“I’m alright. Don’t worry about me.”

AsaHi’s tiny fingers folded over the back of Zemi’s broad hand as he strained to draw the rifting energy into the Cynosure chamber. He was shaking. Every now and then, a spasm racked his body, nearly causing him to fall. And every time, Kudako or Aur were there to offer him strength to stand.

The loss of Zento was more than just a painful, emotional void for the Arweinydd. He had lost a part of himself, his binding Champion who shared his power and bridged the connection to the planet itself. What had once been so easy and so careless to Zemi now took his full concentration to even attempt. It broke AsaHi’s heart to watch the Dreigiau struggle so hard just to fail… again and again as the rift energies seemed to slip right through his fingers.

All she could do was stay by his side and offer him what little strength she had left. It had been so difficult to keep herself from breaking down at the news of Zento’s death. Even though nothing had been formally finalized, the winged warrior had always treated AsaHi like a daughter. He had brought hope and guidance to everyone who knew him… and to those who even knew of him.

And SoYa…

She almost didn’t want to think of it. She had watched the strained composure on his face as he had reached out to comfort Zemi in the midst of his own grief.

He’s become so much like Zento… But I know he must be hurting so much right now.

She couldn’t imagine what it felt like to be in his shoes… to watch his family be torn away, one by one. It was the reason why AsaHi didn’t have the heart to argue when he had raced away on the back of the She-Wolf in desperate attempt to save his brother, the last true family he had left. If there was anything left there to save at all…

The sound of murmuring from the far side of the chamber caused AsaHi to peer back over one shoulder towards the entrance. Her mouth opened a bit, though no sound escaped as her eyes blinked, trying to figure out what it was she was seeing.

The She-Wolf Zazo padded into the room with a scoffing look, nudging her way past any of the winged people who weren’t quick enough to give her the space she desired. Draped over her back was a dark, slumped figure, streaming black ooze across the Arweinydd’s hind quarters. The moment her eyes locked upon him, AsaHi could feel the prickles of fear racing over her skin.

TsuYa..? They really found him. They managed to capture him! But how?

The answer appeared, only a moment later.

I don’t believe it..!

It was SoYa. His clothes were torn and shredded with the struggle of battle, lines streaked across his body where wounds seemed to have once been inflicted. Somewhere along the way, he had lost his hat and his hair hung about his shoulders in wild wisps of untamed curls. His eyes were deep and penetrating, flickering with an internal light that she had often seen when looking at his father. A pair of vibrant white wings arched from his back, shimmering with a luminosity that few other Awakened seemed to have.

Something awful must have happened…

AsaHi could remember how SoYa had hesitated the first time he had seen her wings. She remembered the look of awe and doubt that spread over his face. How he had stammered with uncertainty, trying to find the things to say.

She felt that way now. Everything she had always known he was deep inside was now so plain for the world to see.

There was also battle-worn exhaustion written on his brow and in the way SoYa leaned against his staff for support. AsaHi felt her concern outweighing her doubt as he stumbled up to the rifting stone, stopping to stand silently next to her. Everyone was watching him, though he seemed too tired to notice.

“SoYa…” her voice seemed tiny to her ears. “Are you hurt?”

He shook his head slowly, “I’m alright. Don’t worry about me.”

AsaHi reached out and gave his arm a gentle squeeze. When he turned to look at her, she forced a weary smile. Quietly, he returned her smile – it was the same SoYa-smile that she had always known, warm and comforting. No words were needed between them. Her fears were put to rest.

“Should we not find shackles for the Marked?” Kudako’s low voice intoned from somewhere behind.

-Shackles? Are you implying that I don’t have this completely under control?- Zazo gave a snuff.

“No, Lady Zazo. It is just the thought of precaution,” the Dragon bobbed his head politely.

-Well, for your information, everything is fine. Or perhaps your little Earthian eyes cannot perceive that,- she continued gruffly.

“He appears to be dripping on your fur,” Aur’s commentary was so smooth that it was impossible to accuse it of being the humor it really was.

-I know that!- Zazo barked. –I gave him permission to!-

“I see,” the Watcher lifted his eyebrow and gazed drolly at Kudako. The Dragon just nodded and crossed his arms.

-Overgrown mountain lion!- the She-Wolf sneered, bringing her burden up to where the Dreigiau stood. -Zemi. What’s the hold up? Haven’t you gotten that rift open yet? Your Sygnus pet is going to be here soon!-

“I’m trying, Zazo,” Zemi muttered.

-Not hard enough!-

“Would you like to do this?” the Arweinydd scowled.

-If I were doing it, it would have already been done,- she retorted.

“Then how about giving me a hand?”

-Fine! Since you can’t do it yourself!- Zazo barked back. Then, before anyone could say another thing, the She-Wolf poked her nose forward, right into the small of the Dreigiau’s back.

AsaHi jumped, yanking her hand away as the Arweinydd’s form burst into a brilliant shaft of white flame. She shouted his name, backing away, but everything that had been Zemi and Zazo were lost within the sudden vortex of light.

The runes along the floor began to pulse as the chamber rumbled. Multicolor tiles spread throughout the room casting up brilliant shafts of energy, bounding and rebounding from the etched glassy walls. Finally, the light merged and centered, feeding into the luminous glow of the rifting platform before them.

AsaHi’s breath caught in her throat as the wild spiral of light and shadow drew inwards for one short, shaky moment. Then with a wind that smelled of salt and sea, the huge spiral rift burst open, streaming sunlight and a vast arch of blue sky above them.

The darkness of the Wyndor caves melted away, the earth shifting under her feet. As she felt herself dangling in a moment of misplacement, her hand reached frantically for something solid and firm. She fell back, only to be caught and righted by SoYa’s strong arms.

What just… happened?

When AsaHi finally caught her breath, her green eyes flicked around in wonderment. She was leaning heavily against SoYa’s chest, her knees quavering more than she wanted them to. SoYa, too, looked a little stunned and disoriented as the cooling sea breezes ruffled through his hair.

Soft dunes of white sand billowed out in all directions around them, the quiet sound of rushes and reeds playing in the wind. The sea forests shown brilliant green, vivid and full of life — so different from the fear and decay of the underground chambers they had just come from. As the seascape stretched out in a quiet majesty before them, it was hard to believe that anything they had just experienced was something more than a bad dream.

“I know this place,” JouKa’s voice was hardly above a whisper. “We’ve been ‘ere before.”

“Yes,” Aur agreed. “We have.”

“Lord Zemi… can you walk?” Kudako inquired, reaching down to gather up the drooping Arweinydd.

Zemi had returned to his normal form now. Only the slight sparks of energy lingering in the air showed that anything had happened at all. Zazo, on the other hand, had taken the appearance of a summer time poof-ball flower. Her fur stood on end in every direction except for where the oily black blood of the Marked continued to drip.

-Sure. Sure. Be concerned over him,- she grumbled. -No thanks to me for getting us here.-

“Thank you, Lady Zazo,” SoYa offered quietly.

-Did I tell you that you could speak to me?- the She-Wolf huffed and stuck her nose up in the air. -We’re wasting time. Let’s go.-

“Go where?” AsaHi asked.

-To that ridiculous Shellab place. Where else?- Zazo began to pad across the sand, flicking her feet and grumbling.

“What’s a Shellab?” AsaHi whispered back over one shoulder to SoYa.

His puzzled look and slight shrug spoke his own confusion on the situation. Instead of answering, SoYa simply walked forward and offered Zemi his shoulder for support from the other side. The Dreigiau gratefully took it.

Then Zemi did a double take, teal eyes opening wide. He exclaimed with just as much surprise as anyone else, “SoYa! You’ve Awakened!?”

The Athrylith gave a calm laugh in reply as they made their way forward over the sands, “Well maybe… just a little bit?”

SoYa’s green gaze turned, focusing on the Marked Champion.

“Can you sense Tsu anywhere?” SoYa asked, holding tight to the scruff of the She-Wolf’s neck.

-No… everything is distorted in here. It must be the Sygnus energy.-

“Then how do you know that he’s even here?” the Athrylith asked.

-Are you doubting me?- she snapped with a sharp tone.

“I didn’t say that!” SoYa’s voice rose an octave in alarm. “I just wondered!”

-Because of the way the Marked act,- Zazo answered. –They’re coordinated and unified whenever TsuYa is controlling them.-

He couldn’t help but shiver, “You think… Tsu can really control those things?”

-I don’t know what else you would call it… but he does something to the Marked. Something that is obviously valuable to Zeromus,- the She-Wolf growled under her breath. -We’ve got to take him back.-

SoYa knew that she was partially right. The longer that Zeromus held control over his brother, the harder it would be to try to reverse what had been done. While others may have given TsuYa up for lost to the shadow, SoYa had not.

And if we’re going to evacuate, I’m going to make sure TsuYa is with us… no matter what that takes.

-Hold tight,- Zazo warned him suddenly. -We’re going to break through my barrier.-

“Your wha–?”

Before he could ponder the meaning of the Arweinydd’s words, the She-Wolf gathered herself up in a powerful leap. Light and shimmers burst around them as they met with what appeared to be a web of silvery-blue light strung across the hall, something he could identify as a shield of sorts.

SoYa shivered as the energy passed around him. The moment they broke through the barrier, the world suddenly changed. Death and decay slammed his senses, almost knocking him from the She-Wolf’s back. He could feel it everywhere — the Marked and their haunted aura, the violence and bloodshed, the faint echoing screams still lingering of those who had been cut down in a desperate flight.

If Zazo was affected, she didn’t show it. Her long, ground-eating strides were unbroken as she continued forward. And though her rider wavered, she instinctually moved to balance him, keeping SoYa from losing his grip.

-Can you keep your head?-

The sound of her voice between his ears shook him from his stupor.

“I…” SoYa stammered, choking on the thick death in the air. “I can.”

-Good. Then act like it,- she snuffed, rounding a corner. -I will take care of the Marked. You must find TsuYa… He has not recognized me, but he might recognize you.-

“Why… do you say that?” SoYa grit his teeth.

-Because he’s had the chance to kill you once already and has not,- Zazo informed him gravely. -You might be able to bring him to his senses long enough for us to capture him. Unless Zeromus has strengthened his grip on TsuYa’s mind.-

The Athrylith swallowed, “How am I supposed to fight him… what if he attacks me?”

-Is it worth the risk to try to save him?-

“Of course it is!”

-Then just don’t think about it!- Zazo spun in a sudden turn, sending SoYa stumbling from her back. -I will make the diversion. He will come.-

Before he could argue, the Arweinydd leapt at full speed down the far hall, lifting her head back in a wild challenging howl. It was answered by the feral screeches of Marked somewhere deep in the heart of the mountain passages. SoYa jumped at the sound, gripping his staff tightly between both of his hands. With the She-Wolf gone, the only light within the hall was the dim pulse of the stone on his staff.

This is not exactly what I had in mind!

It was only moments before the low rumbling growl rumbled against the glassy stone walls. SoYa turned around quickly, holding his staff higher, trying to get a better look at what was approaching.

“Tsu?” his voice quavered.

The staff’s light reflected off the dead black eyes of the prowling Marked — none of them were Tsu.

“Oh no! ZAZO!” his shout was cut short as the creatures sprang for him.

It was impossible to tell how many there were — the darkness folded and reeled and lashed out at him from every side. SoYa screamed as he felt the rake of claws and the piercing pain of the screeches slam through his mind. He swung his staff with all of his strength, only to find the weapon torn out of his hand as he was slammed against the wall.

The swell of shadows leapt on him. In desperation, he lifted his hands and lashed out with raw power alone. Driving his full will forward, he felt them lifted and flung back. He heard the sound of cracking bone and bursting flesh as they crunched against the far wall. The screes and struggle of the dying dead.

Then silence.

Breathing heavily, SoYa opened his eyes. His staff lay not too far away, covered in grit and grime. The walls and floor were painted black, misshapen mounds that had once been Marked slumped on the other side of the hall.

The Athrylith choked, grabbed his staff and started to back away. He felt the bile rising in his throat, stomach churning from the sight and stench.

I’ve got to find Zazo!

Just as SoYa turned to make his way back down the hall, a voice rang through his mind, jerking him to a stop.

-Why do you run, SoYa? The thing that you are looking for is right here.-

With a blink, the Athrylith stopped, peering around for the source of the sound. The shadows began to part, almost reluctant as a huge dark figure shambled forward.

“TsuYa…?”

It was just like the terrible vision he had, once long ago. A creature that was his brother… but not… twisted by chaos and hatred into a mangled shape of rage and terror. Huge black wings spread, tipped with shadow and dripping darkness. Grey, mottled skin bore open wounds that wept black blood from battle and the many wicked spikes that had erupted from within his body. Dead black eyes focused on him as his lips curled back in a fanged hiss.

For the first time, SoYa found himself doubting the possibility of his brother’s restoration.

-Yes… you are powerful… aren’t you, SoYa?-

As the voice rose again in his mind, SoYa realized it was not coming from the Marked Champion, but rather an awareness that hung in the shadows. It was a pressure in his mind that he had felt once long ago. A feeling that he had denied.

-You would have made the better choice of Champions. Could you imagine a Marked who bore the power of an Athrylith such as yourself?-

“No…” SoYa whispered, gripping his staff more tightly.

-No… of course not. Maybe it was because you were Athrylith that it didn’t happen. You denied me. And so your brother will take your place.-

“Zeromus…”

-He suffers like this because of you, SoYa. Because you denied me… and he could not.-

The shadowed form of his brother groaned as the skin around one of the spikes cracked even more, freely oozing thick and black. Something had kept Tsu from decaying and falling apart like the other Marked… but his body was still bearing the brunt of the chaotic power.

“You tricked him!” SoYa’s hands began to shake.

-Did I? Or was the power something he wanted? Was his desire for your position enough to push him to reach for what I offered him? Perhaps he wanted you out of the way so that he could take the robes of Nefol for his own.-

“I’ll never believe that,” the Athrylith grounded his teeth together.

-Really? Well, I’ll let him tell you that for himself.-

There was a long moment of silence. The only motion was the tendrils of darkness that spun in silent patterns in the air between the two brothers. When the voice came again, the command was absolute.

-Kill him.-

The Marked Champion rose up to his full, tremendous height, brandishing the familiar black bladed scythe between both hands. The animalistic screech was deafening, leaving SoYa’s entire body weak with piercing pain. Before he could get his bearing, the creature lunged, moving faster than his eyes could follow, the weight bearing down upon the Athrylith’s chest, pinning him to the floor.

“TSU! TSU STOP!” SoYa cried out. The only thing holding off the point of the scythe was the length of his staff. His arms trembled as he felt the force of a strength that far outmatched his own bearing down upon him. “IT’S ME! IT’S YOUR BROTHER! PLEASE!”

There was nothing there. No recognition in the black glassy eyes. No thought or free will. Nothing but the savage and feral drive to follow the command of the Chaotic Arweinydd.

SoYa screamed as the huge claws slashed, raking across his chest, leaving boiling red streaks across his flesh. The wounds began to spread outward, ripping across his body unnaturally. Crimson blood fountained across the floor as he felt the air crushed out of his lungs. His voice was choked to a gurgling cry as his arms collapsed.

Faintly he heard the sound of metal hitting the floor as the staff dropped from his hands.

The world was growing dark.

Coldness gripped his body.

He could hear the struggling thrum of his heart within his ears. A pressure within his mind began to pulse in time with the sound.

Suddenly, a sharp awareness gripped him. Then, began to expand.

Tingling spread through his body. He could feel it rush through him — a strength and light and sense of knowing.

The pain retreated. The darkness reeled away. His shoulders ached and burned as the pounding in his mind became almost unbearable.

With a howling cry, SoYa threw his hands forward. He felt the weight lifted from his chest. The sticky wetness along his body vanished as the pain dimmed. A brilliant light filled his vision.

When the light faded, he found himself standing in the hall once more. His staff was gripped between both hands as if he had never dropped it. TsuYa was splayed against the wall, hissing and snarling, fighting to rearm himself with the scythe that had been knocked from his grip.

-You’ve Awakened? I see… Very good, SoYa. This will be interesting, indeed.-

Breathing heavily, SoYa peered down at himself. His vest and shirt were still in tatters from where the Marked claws had torn at him. But the wounds were nothing but scarred lines across his body.

What… how…?

That’s when he noticed the new strange sensation and shimmering light that gathered and pulsed around him. With a choked sound, SoYa dared to peer behind him. The Awakened wings were there, arched from his shoulders — just as he had seen on so many others before. Everyone but himself.

I’m–

The Marked screech pulled his mind back from wonderment. TsuYa swung the scythe back, already in mid-lunge. A pang of fear leapt through SoYa’s body as he threw up his staff in defense.

Much to his surprise, he caught the strike of the scythe. And his defense held. With wide eyes, he realized that what would have driven him to his knees before… he suddenly found the strength to deflect.

SoYa’s green gaze turned, focusing on the Marked Champion. Snarling in frustration, TsuYa lashed out again.

Again, the Athrylith saw the motion of the strike and met the blade with his staff.

I can… do this?

Furious, the Marked broke the air with a mind-rending screech. There was still pain… but it was pain that SoYa could bear. Shoving the sensation to the corner of his mind, it was his turn to strike.

“TSUYA!”

The stone crowning his staff burst in full flame, a blinding white light that blasted away the shadows in the hall. The screech turned into a sound of pain and surprise as SoYa swung forward, slamming the staff and full mind’s will straight into his brother’s dark form.

“THIS WILL STOP!”

The Marked Champion reeled back with the smell of singed flesh and hair. Then he crumpled to the ground and collapsed, twitching on the floor. With a howl of frustration, the presence of Zeromus that had hung tauntingly within the shadows was also driven back, fragmented by the light.

Breathing heavily, SoYa stared down at the dark shape sprawled across the stone. His hands were shaking, a new fear rising in his chest, worry that he had caused more damage than he had intended. “TsuYa!? Are you alright!”

Before he could reach forward to check, the sound of Zazo’s frantic voice reverberated in his mind.

-TSU! Tsu, I’m here!-

The She-Wolf leapt into the hall, nosing down at the Marked Champion in what could only be a motion of concern. Then her green eyes narrowed on SoYa in disgust.

-What happened to YOU? And what did you do to him?!-

“I…” SoYa stammered.

But she didn’t allow him to explain. Zazo was already gathering TsuYa on her back.

-We’ve got to hurry. The Sygnus draws close.-

“Uh…” he tried again.

-Or do you want to wait here for him to come?-

“No…” he shook his head.

-Then hurry up!- Zazo commanded. She promptly turned her tail and began padding towards the Cynosure chamber, the unmoving form of TsuYa draped over her back.

Take every man and Dragon that you find to the Cynosure chamber for a full evacuation!

“Fall back! Fall ba–” the winged soldier’s words were sliced off in mid-sentence in a bubbling froth of blood and devouring silver mists.

Zento watched with wide horrified eyes as the man crumpled, then collapsed in a spray of red. Screaming and writhing, the mists surrounded him, ripping at the very fabric of his life energies and tearing the unwilling spirit from the once-living flesh. With a last jerky convulsion, they body lay still and slowly began to sink down, spreading into an oily dark patch of decay across the stone floor.

Within moments, there was nothing left.

Before Zento could gather his wits to shout a warning, the mists spread, a billowing cloud of death sweeping down over the rest of his men. The chamber was filled with the sound of unearthly shrieks of the dying, mingled with the screech of the Marked. The winged man staggered back, holding his head as the sound traced piercing pain between his ears.

Dragon flame lit the room as the majestic creatures swung about, releasing blasts of fire over the surging shadows. The heat cut through the mists, which only seethed and boiled back, spreading through the room.

“We must retreat!” Zento cried, finding his voice and making a dash for the flaming Dragons.

“We’re holding the lines, Master Zento!” one of the Dragons responded.

“There’s something else here! Something more than the Marked!” the winged man shouted, grabbing on to the great beast’s foreleg.

“Lord Zemi ordered us to remain!”

“Lord Zemi wouldn’t want you to follow his orders to death!” Zento shouted back.

But it was no use – the Dragons would not budge. They continued to blast at the swelling ranks of the Marked that now flooded the floor with dark ooze and decay. A pang caught in Zento’s throat as he took one look behind him, then rushed on ahead, searching for anyone who would heed his warning.

We have to evacuate!

Before he rounded the corner, he could hear the terrible bellowing and thrashing of the Dragons from behind.

Those mists… This place is a death trap!

Rushing into the far corridor, Zento was greeted by the Captain of the internal troops, “Master? Have the Marked broken through? Are we to engage?”

The Champion reached out and grabbed the soldier with a wild look in his eyes, “Orders have changed. We’re to make a full out retreat to the west wing. Take every man and Dragon that you find to the Cynosure chamber for a full evacuation!”

“Master!?” the captain’s face was grey and shaken. “I don’t understa–”

“Just do it!” Zento commanded, releasing the shaken soldier and drawing his weapon. He turned to face the dark corridors behind him, bracing himself for whatever evil would try to follow. Already, the silvery lines of mist were creeping at the edge of the cavern doorway.

The men gave a dubious look between themselves, questioning their leader’s unusual behavior. But not a one dared to challenge ZenToYa once his blade was in his hand.

“You heard the orders! Fall back!” the Captain echoed the command, lifting his own weapon. But time was working against them.

The Marked had moved fast with no Dragons to defend the passages and keep them at bay. The shadowy forms sprang in through the doorway, carrying the overpowering feel of dread and smell of decay. Claws and fangs and screeches filled Zento’s senses. Somewhere distantly as his blade began to whistle and slice, he could hear himself shouting for the men to keep moving, to press on to the evacuation.

The young winged Captain sprang up beside him, sword gleaming in one hand.

“What are you doing?!” Zento demanded.

“I’m not leaving you here to fight this alone, Master!” he shouted.

“Follow my orders, soldier!” the winged warrior was already feeling winded, as he spun and slashed one hand over another to drive the Marked back. Just long enough to let the others get away.

The Captain’s brows lowered, “I’m sorry, sir, I can’t do tha–”

He reeled with a choke, back arched in a painful snapping motion as Zento watched a long, slick black blade burst up through the man’s chest. With a flip of the sword, the man was flung with terrible strength and splattered against the far wall. The moment the broken body hit the ground, the silver mists rushed over it, devouring, ripping, leaving nothing behind.

Zento stumbled back against the wall, the chains of his Bhinod rattling as his hands shook. Two cold silver eyes slitted, peering at him from within the heart of the seething mists, tearing into his mind, the pressure paralyzing even his strength of will.

I can’t… move…!

The Marked sprang for him, sensing an easy target, their screeches pound and tearing pain through his mind. Zento struggled to pull up a defense, to force his arms to move, to raise his weapon… but nothing responded to his command, even as the shadows loomed over him.

The long black blade lashed again, this time shattering the leaping Marked into a spray of dust and decay. Black streaks splattered the walls as their dying screeches choked into a gurgling hiss.

What!?

A scene of madness unfolded before him. Both winged soldiers and Marked alike were ripped to pieces before Zento’s eyes. The mists claimed it all, destroying without prejudice. And in the middle of the massacre was a form twisted, yet too familiar.

LuShi..!?

Long silver hair hung ragged and wild, streaming down his back, into his face and haunted silver eyes. Blood, both red and black was splattered over his face, hands and body as the long black blade shown coldly in its unending thirst for death. His expression was contorted, caught between pleasure and disgust, his motions fluid and flawless as he tore through man after Marked without a hint of emotion. Huge, ghostly silver wings spread, half arched from his shoulders, giving him the appearance of being so much larger as the boy that Zento had once known.

There’s nothing left to him…

Nothing but the fevered and delusional light in his eyes as LuShi seemed to draw more and more power from the death that surrounded him. He had truly become the Bane… the weapon of terrible destruction, crafted through Zeromus’ Hatred.

SaRa died because of you, you monster! You took her from us! I won’t let this killing continue!

With the Dark Sygnus’ attention pulled from him, Zento found himself able to move again. Teeth gritted, the Champion lifted his weapon, a challenging shout ringing from his throat, “LUSHI! FACE ME!”

The black blade lowered as the Bane stopped to turn. The cold silver eyes focused on him, tracing Zento’s face as if searching for recognition. But like the Marked, there seemed so little there that had once been before. It was much to Zento’s surprise when the Dark Sygnus began to speak.

“Master ZenToYa…” the name was uttered as if a sudden revelation.

“I can’t let you do this, LuShi,” the Champion leveled his blade, posing in a strong, defensive stance.

“Do you really think you can stop me?” LuShi asked, so casually. So offhand. As if nothing at all was wrong in the world.

The first blow took Zento off-guard. Like a snake striking, the black blade blurred forward, slamming him back against the wall with a terrible, bone rending strength. He could feel something snap as he struck, a sharp pain piercing his side and ripping away his breath. Zento fought to keep his feet as his knees buckled… he could see the mists slowly surround him, lapping at his feet.

The Dark Sygnus took a slow step forward, voice low and dangerous, “How does it feel to have been right about me, Master ZenToYa?”

The blade crashed down on him again. This time, the Champion scrambled to throw his own weapon up, sparks flying from the chain of his Bhinod as metal struck metal. Sweat sprung out on his brow, his muscles aching with the tremendous effort it took to fend off the glittering edge of the Dark Sygnus’ sword.

“All I ever wanted was to earn… your… approval!” LuShi hissed, bringing the sword down on him again and again to accent the last three words. The final strike snapped the chain of the Bhinod, like a knife cutting through twine. “I never could… but maybe now, I’ve exceeded your expectations for me. Yes?”

Zento flattened his back against the stone, breathing heavy as the pieces of his weapon shivered in both of his hands. His green eyes narrowed, fighting the fear that threatened to drive him to his knees. Facing the Dark Sygnus alone and with the last of his honor.

“Could it have been different? Could this have been prevented?” LuShi asked with a somber tilt of his head. “Can even you can answer that?”

Then LuShi lifted his sword and drove it straight into the Champion’s chest.

Not a flicker of remorse. The pale boyish face stared down as the winged man choked, struggling for breath and staring at the blade in disbelief. Then with a flick of his wrist, the Dark Sygnus withdrew the sword, seeming to marvel at the sight of Zento’s blood on its tip.

A coldness crept over Zento’s body, numbing, washing away the pulses of pain. His face was heated by the sensation of tears. The pang of hopelessness… knowing that this time, he would be leaving his sons behind him for good. The frustration of loss… of not having the power to avenge the death of his sister. Of not being able to stop the Bane and protect the people of Nefol, the nation that he built and nourished from the ground up.

My family… my people… Zemi… I wasn’t strong enough…

The haunted silver eyes simply watched from above. Eyes that could see the world of living and dead. A creature who commanded the power to enslave the spirits and force them to do his deeds of death, violence and destruction.

“You will… take me…” Zento gasped hoarsely, wincing at the pain of trying to speak. “Just like… you took… SaRa…”

The Dark Sygnus did not make a move. The mists hovered over the floor, but did not reach to devour him, even as the pool of blood began to spread and coldness took the feeling from Zento’s body.

Finally, LuShi spoke, “I didn’t take Aunt Sara.”

“I don’t… believe you…”

“I know you don’t,” the Sygnus nodded his head slowly. “But, I didn’t take her. And I will not take you.”

The mists drew away, receding from the room as the Dark Sygnus leaned down over the Champion’s crumpled form. Carefully, somberly, LuShi placed the grips of the Bhinod in each of Zento’s numbed hands, arranging them in a way proper to honor a fallen warrior.

When he stood again, the silver eyes met green. LuShi’s voice was thick and struggling for sound. Again, he asked, “Could it have been different?”

Then, without another word, the Dark Sygnus lifted his blade and stepped over the fallen Champion’s body, heading deeper into the cave. In the direction that the escaping soldiers had fled, resuming his hunt.

“LuShi…!” Zento choked, face contorting. But his voice was too weak to carry. And soon he found himself alone in the growing darkness, the only sound his struggling, gasping breath.

The great maw snapped open with a gleam of fangs. A stream of pure energy shot across the room as the Marked shadows began to boil at the foot of the cave door.

The sound of dragon-alarm echoed through the depths of the Wyndor chambers, startling AsaHi from her restless sleep. She didn’t know how long she had been sleeping or how much time had passed since they had arrived in the Dragon city, but she could feel that it had not been enough time to get things as situated as Zemi would have liked for the defense against the Marked siege.

Next to her, SoYa was stumbling to his feet with a groggy look. He, too, must have attempted to get what little sleep as was offered. His hair bushed out in all directions as he jammed the square-topped cap down over it. In better times, this would have made AsaHi laugh… but for now, laughter was dimmed as the sound of battle began to flood the hallways.

“AsaHi!” was all her Promised said before he took her wrist, urging her up and moving.

Getting her feet under her, she rushed to keep up with his longer stride.

They had hardly gone half the length of the room when a looming shadow burst through the doorway ahead of them. AsaHi stumbled back with a yelp of surprise as SoYa’s staff leveled forward, lighting the room with a brilliant golden glow.

“SoYa! Put that out!” Zemi’s gritty voice groaned from where the Dreigiau was squinting away from the light. “You’re going to alert every goo-dripper around that we’re here!”

“Oh!” the Athrylith sounded abashed as he lowered the staff. “I was just–”

“Yes, I know. Very courageous, kiddo. Now come quickly — follow me,” Zemi beckoned.

“Where are we going?” AsaHi rushed after the Dreigiau without a moment’s hesitation. SoYa was a little less eager to move forward, peering down the length of the shadowy stone halls before following.

“We need to secure the last of the children in the west wing before the Marked get this deep into the caverns,” the Arweinydd answered shortly. “We tried to gather everyone earlier, but we just haven’t had enough time!”

AsaHi peered ahead in the shadows to see the huddling forms and frightened eyes of a dozen young winged children. Among them, she could make out a few familiar faces, children she had seen and spent time with on the Islands before the Migration. Then, a dark haired girl rushed forward, waving a tiny hand in worry and calling her name.

“Suzume!” AsaHi answered back, coming to meet her.

“We’re under attack?” the little girl asked taking AsaHi’s hand with shaky fingers.

“It’ll be alright,” she attempted to sound reassuring. But it was difficult to keep the fear out of her voice.

-Yes. All will be well, but we must make haste,- a quiet voice echoed softly within AsaHi’s ears. Speech that was not speech.

A small white bird alighted down upon Suzume’s head, wings and tail flicking with what seemed to be agitation. Instantly, the girl recognized the shimmering sparrow form of the Arweinydd Zeni.  If Suzume had any surprise about acquiring the sudden feathered hairpiece, she didn’t show it — AsaHi couldn’t help but wonder at the casual demeanor between child and bird. Afterall, it wasn’t every day that an Arweinydd landed to perch on one’s head.

The roar of battle Dragons suddenly shook the walls, leaving AsaHi’s knees weak from the impact. Great voices and sounds of alarm came from the adjacent chambers.

“We’ve been blasting them down off the east wall, but they just keep coming!”

“How many are there!? The lower chamber is nothing but black and stench!”

“Those things are tearing the wings off of people! I saw it myself!”

“Hold your ground! Ready the flames. Torch anything that comes from the below!”

SoYa’s hand clamped around her wrist again, a frightened light to his wide eyes. He managed to squeak a few quavering words, “We better go!”

AsaHi nodded mutely, gathering Suzume with her free hand and rushing towards the group of shivering children, who stood frozen by the seeping aura of fear that hung heavily in the air. The side halls burst into red flame as the screeches of the invaders met with the molten fire, claws and fangs of the defending Dragons. The girl felt her breath whistling between her lips as she broke into a sprint. However, the frightened children before her only stared at the inferno glow with horrified faces, unable to move.

“Come, children! Come with me! Follow me!” AsaHi’s voice was strained with fear. She motioned with both hands, like a person trying to herd a flock of chickens away from danger. But still, they did not move.

Suddenly a pillar of white light burst up through the chamber. She only had a moment to turn and see the form of Zemi’s great white Dragon taking form – wings unfurling over them protectively, deep teal eyes glowing with a brilliant internal flame under the stream of shaggy Dragon mane. The great maw snapped open with a gleam of fangs. A stream of pure energy shot across the room as the Marked shadows began to boil at the foot of the cave door.

If the children had been frightened before, they were terrified now. But it was enough to get them moving, running as fast as tiny feet could manage. It was all AsaHi and SoYa could do to keep up and try to direct them to the same place. There were no signs of Marked ahead, only the screeches of battle and agony ringing out behind. The large, shimmering white form of Zemi followed distantly, driving the attackers off of their trail.

SoYa clutched his head now and then, squinting in pain as he ran. The sound of the Marked screeches were blood-freezing to everyone, AsaHi remembered, but were extremely painful to the Athryliths in particular.

She reached one worried hand over to grip his shoulder. Though she was too winded to manage words, he understood the motion.

“I’m fine… keep going,” SoYa replied through gritted teeth.

Before long, the winding halls forked off in many different directions. AsaHi pulled up to a stop – though she had spent much time in Wyndor before, she had never explored so deep within the mountain core. And she certainly wasn’t sure of picking her way to the west wing, as the Dragons had called it.

A few of the children were sniffling, on the verge of tears as SoYa turned around in a circle. His brow was furrowed, too, “Which way?”

-Come with me!- chirruped the answer. A streak of white zipped over their heads and down the path to the left as the tiny white Zeni-bird pointed the way through the shivering halls and chambers.

AsaHi opened her mouth with surprise. But Suzume was already tugging on her hand, pulling her forward.

“Zeni knows!” the little girl told them without a hint of doubt.

AsaHi peered at SoYa. The Athrylith only nodded.

The halls grew darker the deeper they traveled, making it more and more difficult to coax the children forward. Eventually, SoYa was forced to use his staff to light the way.

-Almost there. Don’t stop now.- The soft-spoken words brushed past her ear, somehow soothing. Renewing her determination.

“Zemi?” AsaHi turned with a questioning look. There was nothing there, no sign of the Dreigiau. But she could feel his presence, sense his awareness. She knew that the Arweinydd was there. Watching and protecting his people with the dedication and concern that of a true Patron.

She could sense it in him – the pain and fear and struggle that Zemi shared now with his people. A growing understanding of what it meant to live and die. To lose and mourn. And to fight to protect those that did not have the power to protect themselves.

In the midst of the darkness, battle and invasion, this came as a comfort. AsaHi knew that whatever happened, Zemi had found his way. He could hold his own against the threat of Chaos, now.

The Dreigiau would stand against the darkness and protect his people, no matter the odds.

“AsaHi! SoYa!” a familiar voice called their name from the end of the hall.

The girl had to squint before she could finally make out the beckoning form of JouKa, fully armed and looking ready to do battle. Without another word, the short-haired girl turned and pushed on the side of the rock face. There was a deep, startling rumble as what appeared to be a dead end in the hall began to shift and open. A brilliant, multi-faceted light burst from the widening cracks in the wall, revealing a huge chamber of shimmering wonder.

Despite the ripples of fear that still gripped her, AsaHi couldn’t help but give a long breath of amazement. Multi-colored tiles glittered and pulsed along the floors, some emitting tall shafts of rainbowed light towards the vaulted roof. Tiny, pin-pricked runes and patterns were traced along every inch of the rock, all focusing inward on one large, upraised panel of translucent stone. It was huge – big enough for even the Zemi Dragon to perch on. Staring into its swirling depths felt as if one had come face to face with heart of the universe itself.

“What is it…?” AsaHi whispered.

“A major rifting point of the Cynosure system,” Zemi’s voice answered from behind her. This time she felt his hand on her shoulder as he walked past her into the room.

“A what?” SoYa echoed with a furrowed brow.

“It be our ticket outta ‘ere,” JouKa told them with a somber look. “That’s why we’ve been bringin’ all the kids and women.”

“Go ahead. You’re safe now,” Zemi motioned the newest arrivals forward.

For the first time, AsaHi’s gaze slipped past the brilliant glow of the Cynosure stone to see a much, much larger group of people huddled in the safety of the far end of the room.

Released from their guidance, the children scampered across the chamber, hopping over the runes and shimmering tiles to join the others.

“So what exactly does it do?” AsaHi asked, carefully stepping through the doors.

“It’s a transportation system of sorts,” Zemi answered.

“Then, we’re going to evacuate?” SoYa inquired.

“If things start to turn against us, yes,” the Dreigiau nodded. “I promised your Father…”

“Then you had better call the troops in now and get these people out of here,” a ragged and broken voice intoned from behind them.

AsaHi turned with a worried frown, taking a moment to make out the shape that emerged from the shadows of the hall. She knew the man, though they had only met once before the attack on the Spiral, and she could not remember his name.

“You’re… that spirit… the one that was Lucci’s friend?” she stammered slightly.

He looked too real to be merely a spirit now. In fact, he looked just as real as anyone else there. He bore the grim and tatters of someone who had traveled a long and exhausting journey. His face was lined with a deep grief, the tips of his long ears quivering as they drooped.

“I am…” he answered hoarsely, leaning against the wall as if to catch his breath.

“How did you get here?” Zemi asked, lowering his brows.

“Are you alright?” SoYa asked at nearly the same moment.

“I’m fine,” the spirit nodded. “And how I got here is irrelevant.”

The Dreigiau crossed his arms with a frown, “Not to me.”

“Zem,” the man breathed out with a tired, pained look. “I’m here to warn you. You have to get your people out of here! You have to go to the Vision Stone… it can tap into the Ways… and it might be the only thing that’s going to save you.”

“Save me? From what?” Zemi’s eyes narrowed. For some strange reason, the Arweinydd appeared to be taking the message of warning seriously.

“It’s Lucci… I tried to stop him,” the spirit’s voice wavered, almost to the point of weeping.

“Lucci! Did they find him?” SoYa’s eyes widened. “We sent a Spiral search party for him after the battle… but no one had seen him.”

“He w-went… to face Zeromus…” the spirit choked.

“What?” Zemi moved forward, quickly gripping the other man’s shoulders. “Why?! Why did he do that without telling anyone?”

“He thought he could stop the battle… he wanted to defeat Zeromus… he wanted to protect people. But it turned out all wrong. The sword… the wings… Lucci didn’t even recognize me… I couldn’t stop him!”

“Wings?” SoYa breathed.

“Sygnus…” the spirit slumped forward. “Zeromus has Awakened the Dark Sygnus.  Luccious is coming… he’s almost here.”

“What more do we have to lose before you realize this is not working, Zemi?” Zento choked, forcing the words between his teeth.

The Marked army of Zeromus was on the move across the Outterlands. And they were moving fast, with renewed purpose. Zemi didn’t question. He knew there was only one place Zeromus would strike next – the mountain city of Wyndor.

With Ceiswyr in ruins, Wyndor was the last bastion of safety afforded to those who made the migration out of the Islands. It was the place where the women and children had gone to take refuge. And it was just like Zeromus to strike out at the weak and defenseless in order to tear at the hearts of those who had the will and power to fight the darkness.

Looking back over his shoulder, Zemi only had to get a glimpse of the haggard, lined face of Zento to know that to be true. Zeromus’ tactics had struck home with the death of SaRa, leaving the winged Champion in shambles.

Zemi didn’t pause to wonder how much fighting will was left in Zento. There was no time.

The moment the Dragons and scouts from the Spiral reported a mass motion of the Marked army away from the Spiral proper, Zemi knew what it meant. He had gathered what Dragons and men that remained able to fight and ordered a direct high-speed flight after the shadowy forces in attempt to intercept the attack on Wyndor.

The Spiral warriors, without wings to fly, had opted to stay behind, working to clean up their city and hunt down any straggler Marked that might still remain. There was also the strange report of one smaller band of Marked that had turned back and re-entered the Inner Realms by way of the Passage. Whether the report was true or not didn’t concern Zemi, though. The fewer Marked laying siege to Wyndor, the better.

Zemi’s whole being was focused forward, the great white war Dragon’s wings stretched, bending the wind around him as he flew with unearthly speed. His mind was locked on the movement of Zeromus’ armies. The heat of anger and vengeance coursed through his form, leaving light-flecked shimmers in the sky behind.

SaRa had been one of his own, like a child that he had raised. He had known her since she had been very small. Though he did not teach her as much as he had taught Zento, he had still watched her grow up to become a leader at her brother’s side. The thought that he would never hear her warm, chiding voice or feel her kindly hugs again… left a hollow sensation in the depths of Zemi’s being. Something that he could only define as the Earthian feeling of grief.

Someone would pay for this loss. Someone would feel the same grief that he did. And that someone would be Zeromus.

“Zemi,” Zento’s voice struggled to be heard above the wind. His fingers gripped the thick white Dragon mane where he lay against the Dreigiau’s neck. When Zemi didn’t respond, the Champion called louder, “Zemi!”

-I hear you, Zento.-

“Zemi, this is crazy!” Zento tugged back on the mane to accent his words. “The men are exhausted. We’ve just come through one battle and have had no rest. No sleep! You’re flying them too hard!”

-There is no time. Wyndor will be under attack and the Marked move quickly. They will not rest, and neither should we.-

“The Marked are nothing but soulless beasts! Of course they need no rest!” Zento half snarled.

-Soulless beasts? Is that what you would call your son? -

A deep silence fell from behind. Instantly, Zemi regretted his thoughtless words. But it was the truth, unspoken or not. Zento should know that – he should be realistic about the situation.

Finally, when the Champion spoke again, his tone was broken and somber, “Our men are not Marked. We can’t keep this pace, Zemi. Maybe you can go without resting, but the Earthians can not.”

The Dreigiau gave a rumble of impatience and slight frustration. Taking a break would put the Marked armies even further ahead of them than they were already. Soon, there would be no interception… and allowing the Marked into the halls of Wyndor was not permissible.

Receiving no reply, Zento pressed further, “What do you expect our men to be able to do, even if we do reach Wyndor in this condition? An evacuation takes planning, time and energy. That’s another long trip, likely with the Marked nipping at our heels.”

-Evacuation?- Zemi couldn’t hide his tone of surprise.

“Right… evacuation. That… is… what we’re going to do, right Zemi?”

-And just give up Wyndor to Zeromus the same way we lost the Islands?-

“You certainly don’t mean to fight! Not after all of this!” Zento answered incredulously.

-What other options do you think that we have?-

“That is not what you were instructed to do, Zemi. Fighting Zeromus has done nothing but lead us to loss and destruction! We’re just not strong enough!”

-I will make that decision for myself! No one instructs Zemi Dreigiau to do anything!-

A roar of frustration bellowed from Zemi’s throat, breaking the clouds in front of them. He could feel Zento’s hands shake just a bit where they still held fast to the white mane. Then the grip grew solid and resolved again — there was about to be an argument.

“What more do we have to lose before you realize this is not working, Zemi?” Zento choked, forcing the words between his teeth. “We’ve lost a lot of men… we’ve lost SaRa…”

-Are you blaming that on me, now?-

“No! I’m blaming that on that Bane Child Sygnus that you protected all this time. And now it’s just as I said it would be!” the Champion snapped with a grating voice. “This is just the beginning – he’s going to destroy us! He’s going to destroy you! And you’re going to walk straight into it… taking all of our people with you because you can’t see that–”

-ENOUGH!-

“Don’t you tell me enough, Zemi Dreigiau!”

-YOU ARE MY CHAMPION AND YOU WILL DO AS I TELL YOU!-

“I am your Champion because you don’t understand enough about your own people to know what’s good for them!” Zento retorted. “Well, I say enough! I am a Champion… and I champion my people! I refuse to watch you lead them into destruction because you’re too stubborn and proud to accept good advice when you are given it!”

Zemi gave a grudging growl, scolded and annoyed. But he gave ground knowing that the winged warrior spoke parts of truth. Zento had sacrificed much to follow the Dreigiau’s visions… and he had always acted as a bridge between Earthian and Arweinydd kind. It had not been an easy road for the Champion and his family. And it was rare that Zento’s advice regarding Earthians was wrong – he had an exceptional judge of character.

-Zento…- the Dreigiau approached with a quieter tone, -This has been difficult for us all. You are responding and talking out of your grief.-

However, trying to sympathize only earned the opposite reaction to what he had hoped.

“Zemi Dreigiau!” the Champion fumed, tone growing angry. “Don’t you dare tell me that I’m talking out of my head due to grief! I’m the only one making sense here!”

-And I don’t make sense just because I want to defend what is ours?-

“There’s a time to fight and a time to cut your losses,” Zento muttered. “We tried this with Ceiswyr. And honestly, we had a better chance at defending the Islands than we do fighting in a giant hole in the ground. But we still lost. We’re going to lose again, Zemi. This isn’t going to work.”

-You don’t know that.-

“Do you have some miracle up your sleeve that I don’t know about?”

Zemi fell silent. The truth was… he didn’t. He had nothing but the rage of justice within him. And the loyalty of his people to back him on his rampage.

For just a moment, a trickle of doubt traced through Zemi’s mind.

“You don’t, do you?” Zento’s voice was grim.

-I’ll think of something.-

“The time for thinking is over,” the Champion intoned brokenly. “Zeromus has taken most of my family from me. I will protect the one I have left… no matter what I have to do.”

-I see.-

There was no arguing with that, not once Zento got something into his head. Still, times were much too dangerous for Arweinydd and Champion to be divided in heart.

After a time, Zento spoke again, “I’m sorry if I’ve disappointed you.”

-You’ve never disappointed me, Zento.-

“I know what you’re thinking right now. You can’t fool me, Zemi.”

-I can’t fool you,- the Dreigiau admitted. -But I’m not disappointed in you. I chose you as my Champion because of your fearless spirit and potential. I knew that you would always do what you felt was right.-

“I try, Zemi…” the Champion sighed. “I know you try, too.”

That sounded positive. At the least, that Zento wasn’t still angry. He was never the kind to stay angry long. So it was a good time to pursue things.

-If you don’t think we should defend Wyndor, what do you think we should be doing?-

“Evacuating,” Zento answered.

-Evacuate to where? Zeromus will hunt us and find us. You know that.-

“We should try the Vision Stone. Like the voice in the Lion’s Keep suggested.”

-And how do you know about that?- Zemi asked quizzically. He hadn’t talked a lot about his experience in the Stone Keep and the voices that spoke to him who claimed to be Arweinydd kind from the Time Before.

“Let’s just say I pick up on more than you give me credit for, Zemi,” the Champion’s voice had a slight smirk to it.

Zemi sighed. -So you trust in what some unknown voice instructs me to do?-

Zento was quiet for a moment, “I don’t know. But there might be something to it. I saw the images on the wall, Zemi. Someone knew about us before we even existed.”

-How do we know that “someone” means us well?-

“I suppose we don’t. But sometimes you have to have a little faith in the unknown,” the winged warrior answered softly. “I don’t see how it would mean us ill if it was suggesting a way to escape from Zeromus.”

-Perhaps… but even if we did make the journey to the Vision Stone, there is no promise that we will find any help there. We’d be in the same situation as before… with no strategic ground to defend,- Zemi reasoned.

“I suppose that’s true, too. I just have a hunch… call it warrior’s Earthian intuition.”

-Aren’t you the one telling me not to rely on feelings, Zento?-

The Champion sighed and did not answer.

They flew on for a short while, the Dreigiau’s speed significantly slower than before. Something within Zemi yearned to find peace and unity with the winged warrior – Zento had been by his side through so many things. And it very well could be that this was their final stand together.

-Why don’t we give defense of Wyndor a shot? Then, if things start to look bad, we’ll head towards the Vision Stone,- the Dreigiau reconciled.

“Is that possible? Once we get in those caves, aren’t we going to be trapped?” Zento asked with a worried frown.

-Do you really think I’d hold my ground in a place that I couldn’t escape?- Zemi responded with a sly tone.

“Hmmm?”

-So what do you say?-

Zento paused before answering, “The men need rest if you want them to go into battle. Even if the Marked get there before us, it’ll still take them time to figure out how to breach the mountain fortress, right?”

Zemi was silent. Zento was silent.

Then with a short backwing, the Dreigiau turned about face towards the army behind him. His voice filled the sky, rolling off the clouds, seemingly effortlessly.

-We will stop to rest here for a time. Tend those who need tending. Eat if you need to. Sleep for a short time. Then we move on to defend Wyndor!-

A grateful sound from men and Dragons both came in response. Wings of feather and scale began an exhausted spiral down towards the ground for a much-needed rest. Zento offered a tired but thankful smile as Zemi’s wings folded, carrying them down for a short landing.

“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.

“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.

“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.

He struggled and howled, face streaked with black tears as he fought.

Lucci didn’t realize that he had drawn his sword until he saw the quivering tip of the blade pointed at TsuYa. His hands were shaking. Tears stung his eyes. The whimper of Suzume rose to his ears from where the little girl hid behind his legs. JouKa sat, collapsed against a crate, her head covered with both arms, sobbing and hysterical.

KoGuRai had stood no chance against the Marked form of TsuYa. Already his remains were decaying, sinking into the puddle of black oozing blood. It flaked away into dark dust… nothing left but the sheen of silver helm that sat pinned under TsuYa’s heavy boot.

What do I do? What do I do? I can’t fight Master TsuYa! But… he’s become…

One Marked Champion had fallen… only for another to take its place.

Maybe that has been Zeromus’ plan all along? Maybe he never wanted KoGuRai as his Champion at all. He was just using him… like bait… to push Master TsuYa into turning Marked.

A low growl rose from TsuYa’s throat as pure black eyes focused on them. He reached down and picked the helm up, shaking it free from the clinging darkness.

And it worked…

Lucci readjusted his grip on the blade, keeping himself between the girls and the newly Marked Champion of Zeromus. Something in his chest ached terrible. He knew if he had only been a little faster… if he had gotten the sword to the Inner Realms sooner… that maybe TsuYa would have been spared this horrible fate.

But something else was there. Something that Lucci could sense still boiling, battling, struggling under the mask of shadows that had encased the warrior. Perhaps it was because TsuYa had become Awakened before Zeromus managed to take him. Or perhaps it was because his will and desire for freedom was simply that strong. No matter the reason, Lucci could feel it still, something of TsuYa was there. Aware.

And he was not attacking them.

Even, physically, TsuYa’s body fought to preserve itself. Though his hair and wings had grown dark, Lucci could see that there was still one light streak running through his bangs, a shock of white that fell down into his eyes. Something left from before.

Zeromus chose a difficult spirit to try to capture…

Somewhere in the distance he could sense it… the feeling of the Arweinydd Zazo and the Watcher Aur. They were coming, no doubt, called there by the release of energy, both Awakened and Marked. The smallest inkling of hope rose in Lucci’s chest. The thought that if there was something still left of TsuYa… that maybe he could still be saved. That he could be returned to his rightful form. That the Marked might be contained.

If I can just keep him here, peaceful, long enough for them to reach us.

“Master TsuYa?” Lucci’s voice quavered as he took the chance to lower his blade just a little. “Master TsuYa… do you remember me? Do you know who you are?”

Dark eyes watched the young Sygnus, a low growl the only answer.

Please Lady Zazo… come quickly…

Lucci took another chance, slowly moving forward. His breath came in frightened gasps, eyes never leaving the dark, Marked Champion. He froze as the growl grew into a fierce snarl. Then the snarl somehow managed to form words.

“LuShi… stay back! Stay away from me!” TsuYa grated through bared fangs.

“Master TsuYa?! Please… just stay calm… we can help you!”

“Nooo…” he moaned. His voice was very much like his voice always was. Just more frightened. More strained. “Nooo…. It’s over. I’m… one of them. I’m…”

“Not yet! You can’t give into him,” Lucci encouraged, taking another step forward. “As long as there’s part of you still aware, we might be able to–”

Suddenly, TsuYa broke out in a terrible yowl, clutching his head between clawed hands. He buckled over, screeching in pain. “Get him out of my head! Get him out of my heaaaaad!”

Lucci jumped back in shock as the warrior began to stagger around, slamming himself against the stone walls. Suzume gave a cry, huddling next to the glassy-eyed JouKa, covering her face with her hands. The young Sygnus reached forward, trying to intercept, only to be shoved away.

“AHHHHHHHHHH!!!” the half-scream, half-screech was chilling. The sound of a soul being consumed. “GET HIM OUT OF MY HEAD!!”

-TsuYaaaaaa!!-

The glowing form of the white wolf sprung over the pile of crates at the far end of the passageway. Running all out, her green eyes held a look of worry that Lucci had never seen before. With one great lunge she leapt up, landing square on TsuYa’s back. It took all of her force to wrestle him down and keep him pinned, even as large as she was.

He struggled and howled, face streaked with black tears as he fought. Choking and gasping, the words became less words as the darkness began to twist and taint his mind.

-TsuYa! No! Hold on to me! I can fix this! I can fix this! I promise! Just don’t go!- Frantic, the she-wolf shoved her muzzle down into his face. As if her will and words alone would be enough to save him.

“Nooo! Noooo!!” He responded with terrified hisses and raking claws. If she had been a physical being, he would have shredded her face in his struggle. “Stay away from me! Stay away from meeee! Arweinydd! Stay away from meeeeeeeee!”

-TsuYa! Please! It’s me! It’s Zazo!-

But her words could not comfort his panic as his body began to convulse again. More spikes began to shred through his skin… the transformation slowly growing worse.

Aur and Oren arrived, not far on the heels of the she wolf. The Watcher stood for a long moment, observing the pleading Arweinydd and the struggling Marked. And for the first time, something like true emotion washed over his face. Pity. Sorrow. Sympathy. He seemed to be having trouble breathing as he gathered up Suzume in his strong arms, covering her crying face protectively.

Oren had also come quickly, his ruddy face horrified as he recognized the Marked creature before him. Without so much as a word, he retrieved JouKa’s limp form and carried her away. He murmured quiet words of concern under his breath as he gently brushed the hair out of the winged girl’s face.

-He’s not calming down!!- Zazo was frantic as she fought to keep the Marked pinned under her paws.

“LET ME GO!” TsuYa’s voice cracked, half shrieking as his back arched in pain. With a gurgling sound, he turned the dark claws on himself, leaving long trails of dark gashes along his face and chest.

The Arweinydd gave a defeated cry, watching as he maimed himself, shoving her nose between his head and his claws. Doing everything she could to stop the unstoppable. Finally, with a great heave, TsuYa cast her off. The moment he was free, he leapt to his feet, wings spread wide. One hand clamped around the grip of the scythe that had been left, lying in the street.

-Tsu!!!-

“Sta..aay… baack…” he hissed, holding the scythe in front of him as he crouched, ready to fight.

-Please don’t do this. Please… come back with me. Zem and I… we can fix this! You have to believe me, Tsu!-

But the Marked Champion could only reel back, face lined with pain. The howl escaped his lips again, as he was driven to mindlessness, “He’s in my head! Get him out of my head!”

“Lady Zazo! Be careful!” Lucci gave a warning call. It was hard to tell if TsuYa was going to actually use the weapon – of his own free will or not.

Before either of them could say a word, the black wings spread wide into the air. With an agile leap, the Marked warrior launched into the sky, dark scythe held between his fists. One bound had him on top of the nearby roof. The next cast him up towards the dimming clouds.

“Waaait!” Lucci called.

But it was no good. The Marked instinct was driving him. With nothing to lose. Nothing left to hold him, TsuYa fled, leaving nothing but a stream of black along the stone wall.

For a moment, it seemed as if Zazo might follow. But as the winged figure grew smaller and more distant over the lilac trees, she did nothing but stand and watch. With a startling sound, the she wolf threw her head back, shattering the air with a long, mournful howl.

Lucci, too, could only stand and watch as shock numbed his body. Realization began to flood over him. Realization followed by a deep, rending sadness.

They had lost Ceiswyr. They had lost TsuYa. But they had not yet lost the war.

I still have the sword.

Lucci looked down at the flat of the blade. The silver steel reflected his image coldly. Suggestively. And he knew exactly what he needed to do.

No matter what. I’m going to pay him back for all the people he’s hurt.

The young Sygnus’ hand tightened on the blade’s grip.

I’m going to destroy Zeromus.

The little winged girl was safe, cradled against his chest.

“TsuuuuYaaaa!” KoGuRai’s face contorted in an animalistic snarl. His dark eyes focused sharply on the warrior, full of hate and fury.

“Did you forget about me?” TsuYa smirked. He coolly wiping his blade off on the edge of his coat only to find, to his dismay, that the black ooze ate right through the cloth.

“Turn around and walk away. This is between me… and LuShi,” the Champion sneered.

“Oh? Then why are you dragging little girls into this? Are you trying to break your record for hostage taking… the coward that you are,” he sneered back.

This time… this is it. This time… you’re not walking away alive, KoGuRai. We already know your tricks. It’s time for this to stop.

TsuYa ground his heel against the stone, poised and ready to strike. KoGuRai took a step back, nursing his wounded shoulder, both fists clamped tightly around the haft of his naginata. But before any blows could be exchanged, a shout rang out across path.

“TsuYa! TsuYa, wait!!”

The warrior gave a quiet curse under his breath. Things were about to get even more complicated.

“JouKa..?” KoGuRai paused, turning at the sound. It was strange how the Marked Champion could throw out scathing threats with the same voice that could sound so concerned.

The winged girl rushed out into the center of the fray, eyes wide as she stared between them. Then she stopped, peering straight at KoGuRai for a long, long time. For once, she seemed completely lost for words.

KoGuRai also stared at her, lowering his weapon just a bit. The silence between them was awkward and heavy. Finally, he took a step towards her. “JouKa… I’ve finally found you. Have you come to me at last?”

TsuYa made a blech face.

“KoGu… what… what… ‘ave you done?” she shook her head, taking a step back.

“Wait. Wait, JouKa. I can explain everything… just listen…” he approached, with hands wide in a gesture that spoke of harmlessness.

“Explain? Explain… what? The village ya razed? All of the people ya killed?” her voice was quiet, nothing more but a shaken whisper. “‘Ow can you possibly explain somethin’ like that?”

“Village…?” his face grew as pale as a Marked complexion could. “No… that wasn’t me, JouKa! I swear!”

“Then who was it, KoGu? Someone that looked like you and yer pet Esgyll?” she retorted hotly.

“If you’d just let me talk, I could tell you.”

“Then tell me about Mister NaDo. And about takin’ him ‘ostage. Splittin’ his back straight open. Tell me that wasn’t something that ya did, KoGuRai?” JouKa gave him a sick, pained look.

“JouKa…”

“You didn’t ‘ave to ‘eal those people — I did!” she snapped, not allowing him a moment of explanation. “I saw what came of it all… and I just can’t believe…”

KoGuRai fell silent, looking down at his fists, gripping the haft of his naginata. His hands were shaking as if fighting back some kind of internal violence.

“What’s ‘appened to you?” tears shown in her eyes. “I wanted to believe in you. But after what I’ve seen, all I can think is… you really ‘ave become a monster!”

The Marked Champion’s head snapped up with a bitter glare. The expression that had been concerned and shocked had turned cold and distant.

“I see what’s going on here,” KoGuRai’s voice grew low and gravely. His dark eyes shifted from JouKa to TsuYa and back again. “TsuYa’s turned you against me, hasn’t he? You’ve fallen for him while I was gone. You’ve fallen for him and you’ve betrayed me to him, haven’t you?”

“What? KoGu… what in the name of the Light are you talkin’ about?” she shook her head with a frustrated and confused look.

“You know what I’m talking about!” before she could pull back, his hand shot out, grabbing her roughly around the wrist. The air crackled red, furious Chaos. KoGuRai was losing himself. “All this time I was trying to find you again. I was promised that he would give you to me and we would take Nefol together! But you’ve ruined it all! You’ve run off with TsuYa!”

“KoGu!!” JouKa’s voice raised an octave, for the first time, real fear shown in her eyes as he loomed huge above her. “It’s not like that at all!”

“Are you Promised to him!?” KoGuRai almost roared, fangs gleaming as he pulled her closer.

“NO! KOGU! Yer ‘urtin’ me!!” the winged girl yanked back in pain. TsuYa could see the strength of the Marked Champion’s fist closing tighter around the girl’s arm. And he knew exactly how strong a Marked could be.

“STOPPIT!!” TsuYa leapt forward with a snarl of his own, slamming between JouKa and KoGuRai. “LET HER GO!”

The winged girl stumbled back, knocked free from the terrible grip… just at the same moment the Marked claw slashed out, leaving long, bloody gashes straight through TsuYa’s shoulder. He gave a choking gasp at the unexpected pain, dodging just as the claw came for him again.

Somewhere in the distance he heard JouKa’s scream and the choked cry of Suzume. The world wavered and shifted around him as his senses tunneled. Fury began to burn within. Everything focused on the dark winged figure of the Marked Champion before him. His rival. His enemy. One who would kill and destroy in order to steal everything that his family had sacrificed everything for – Nefol… his people… his friends…

I won’t let you hurt them!

KoGuRai bore down on him with blade in hand, a dark maelstrom of hate. His wings stretched wide, the twisted taint of Chaos choked the air. Animalistic insanity and bloodlust had transformed the Marked Champion’s face – if there was anything left of the son of JinRai, it was impossible to see it.

TsuYa floundered back, barely deflecting the blows that came again. And again. And again. His shoulder was in shreds, wounds open and burning with the acidic nature of the Marked attacks. His chest grew tight, breath rasping in his lungs as he fought to keep his feet under him.

I… can’t. I can’t hold up under this! He’s so strong!

Pain exploded along his left side. TsuYa watched, to his horror, as dark crimson fountained from KoGuRai’s blade as it tore into his body. His cry was wretched… so unlike the warrior he had fought to be. For years and years and years. All the training and hardship. Everything that he had strove to be… to be like his father. His brother. The ones that people respected.

And I will die like this… on the end of this monster’s blade…?

Eyes darkening, TsuYa’s face broke into a snarl of his own.

I refuse!

With an agonized groan, he pulled himself off of the point of the naginata. KoGuRai loomed over him, a smug look of triumph stretched over his face. The battle was won in his mind. He was merely toying with TsuYa now… doing everything he could to make the warrior’s death as shamed and futile as possible.

That will be your biggest mistake!

Distantly, he heard the sound of voices. JouKa and LuShi calling frantically. TsuYa could only watch with horrified, blurry eyes as Suzume rushed out between, little wings unfolded. She darted in, face angry and determined, yelling at KoGuRai as loud as her child-voice allowed.

Kid! What are you doing!?

Something grew deathly cold within his chest as he saw the glint of KoGuRai’s blade flash. The naginata lifted into the air, poised above the child’s head. So deliberate. The Marked Champion’s expression did not change… as if it was nothing more to him than swatting away a meaningless irritation.

Suzume!!

Fingers digging into the ground, TsuYa drove himself back up on his feet. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t speak. His body wasn’t responding. Everything felt so cold, as if all the heat had rushed out of his body.

I WON’T LET YOU!

A dazzling white light suddenly flooded the world. In the brilliance of the flash, he could make out KoGuRai reeling back, wincing against the blinding radiance. Suzume gave a shout, falling back in surprise, but unharmed.

His arms were around her. Just that sudden. TsuYa hadn’t realized he had the strength to move. But he was there. The little winged girl was safe, cradled against his chest.

Suzume stared up at him with awe. TsuYa could see his reflection in her dark eyes… he realized that the light was coming from him. Her voice was hardly a whisper when she spoke, “Wings…”

What…?

Stretching wide around him were wings of luminous white. Wings that belonged to him.

No way…! I’m…

Wings that looked exactly like Father’s. So much like Father’s, in fact, that TsuYa almost gave a shout for joy. For once, he could feel it… the endless possibilities. The potentials within himself. That he could be exactly what he had always dreamed of being. What he had worked so hard to become.

I’m Awakened!! I’m-

The sharp sound of a crack shattered his world. Pain. Terrible burning pain suddenly rushed through every inch of his body. The look of delight and awe on Suzume’s face shifted instantly to fear. With a strangled sound, he released the winged girl, stumbling away from her.

“TsuYa!! TsuYa!! Are you alright!?” she called to him.

He tried to answer, but no words would come. Nothing in his throat but a low, terrible growl. It bubbled and frothed its way out of his mouth, then shattered the air with an animalistic shriek. He clutched frantically at the source of the sudden pain, at his throat, just under his shirt. His fingers came away bloody. Blood that slowly turned black. Black like Marked blood.

NOO! NOOO!

Where Aur’s protective medallion had once hung around his neck, there was nothing left but a warped piece of blackened metal. And he realized, in horror, that under the pressure of his Awakening, the amulet had broken. It was destroyed.

PLEASE NO!!

And with it, his protection against the darkness had fled. Not even the power of Awakening seemed to be enough to protect him.

Please… please help me…

It felt like something was tearing him from inside out. His blood at once burned and froze. His body trembling as he convulsed, dropping him to his knees. He tried to cry out in agony, but nothing came except hisses and growls.

-No one can help you now, TsuYa… You are MINE.-

TsuYa’s flesh had darkened to grey, spotting black. His skin began to split as dark spikes of black burst through. A sharp rip as his coat gave way — his form growing and expanding far beyond his normal size. Black blood streamed from the bubbling wounds… from his eyes… his mouth… his nose… the Mark along his cheek. The darkness bled into his hair. Along the lines of his wings… until black feathers dripped with thick ooze.

And the terrible voice sounded in his mind.

-My Champion… greatness waits for you. Now come to me. Come to me…-

He fought it with every last bit of strength in him. Snarling and shrieking against the voice that invaded his thoughts. Everything was a blur. The world spun dizzy around him as the pressure of Chaos closed in on him. The sound of metal clashing, shrieks and battle were so distant and far away.

When he finally found breath again, it was rasping hisses. He stared down at his hands – now nothing more than beastly claws. And the thick black blood that ran over them. He realized the blood was not his own. Looking down at the ground, he saw the mangled and motionless form of KoGuRai’s body, the silver helm bent under the heel of his boot.

Is he… is KoGuRai… dead..?

Sickness welled up in the pit of his stomach. Sickness as he saw the blurred and twisted reflection of his face in the smudged sheen of the metal helm. KoGuRai was not rising. A pool of black spread around him where he lay in the dust.

TsuYa had won, he realized. He had taken the life of his enemy. But he had lost himself in return.