The Sygnus’ long silver hair swayed with a ghostly quality, blending into the flow of mist that billowed around him.

“Lucci! Lucci, you CAN’T do this!” Kaz’s voice pleaded from behind him. The cry was so desperate. So hoarse and filled with fear. It was so unlike how his friend usually sounded.

Lucci turned, pausing just a moment on the long, broken stairway to look back. The Sygnus’ long silver hair swayed with a ghostly quality, blending into the flow of mist that billowed around him, gleaming along the outline of his tall silver wings. The mist was always there now. They were always there in the mist. There was no getting rid of Them.

No running away from what he was. They had traveled long across the now-barren lands of the Inner Realms, all the way to the darkened heart of Nefol. There was no turning back. He knew what he had to do.

“I have to stop him,” Lucci answered in a boyish way. But his voice was not a child’s voice anymore – he was no longer the boy that Kaz had guided. “There’s only one way. You know that.”

“No… Lucci… look at yourself!” the spirit motioned with both hands. “This sword… these wings… You’re not thinking straight!”

“I’m fine!” the Sygnus snapped back with a tone he had never used with his friend before. Instantly, something deep inside him felt ashamed. And he lowered his voice. “When I get done, it’ll be over with, Kaz. Then no one will have to be afraid anymore.”

Kaz just looked stunned. And older somehow. His eyes were sad, ringed with worry and the inability to stop what he saw unfolding before him. But he tried one last time, “Please, Lucci-boy. Come home with me.”

It was the wrong thing to say. And the spirit realized it with a blanch the moment that the silver light sparked in the Sygnus’ eyes.

“Home?” Lucci flourished the long slender sword in one fist. It gave off a cold and victorious light, feeding into the mists. Into the chill that surrounded the silver-haired young man. “Home? In case you didn’t notice, there is no home to go back to. The Islands have fallen! Wyndor will be next! There will be nowhere to go to! This has got to be stopped!”

Without further words, the Sygnus wheeled around and began to storm up the stairs once more. The structure that loomed before him was tall, tilted to one side and cracked up and down its length. It was what was left of the once-great Spire of Nefol. But now that the Inner Realms had completely fallen under the sway of Zeromus’ taint and darkness, there was little left of the former beauty and light of the land.

If he was nervous about what he knew was coming, Lucci didn’t show it. He simply gripped the long dark blade in one hand. With the other hand he adjusted the shoulder of his light armor… which he had pieced together from plates that belonged to people three sizes smaller than him.

Not as if that matters now. I doubt I’m going to be walking away from this fight.

Zeromus.

He was the cause of every pain, darkness and death that the Sygnus had known. Time after time. Battle after battle. Little by little… the dark, ruthless force had chipped away at the last of the light, held within the people of the Dreigiau. And now, with Ceiswyr gone, hope had plummeted, just like the Islands from the sky.

But now that I have this sword… I can defeat him. Whether or not he really is my…

All of his life, Lucci had been treated as the Bane. The one that would tear the world he loved apart. Because he was a Sygnus — a child of the heavens and the earth. Possessing unknown powers, wrapped in the cold child of death itself. And because his father was said to be Zeromus, the Hatred.

But none of that mattered now. Whether or not the people of Ceiswyr believed in him. Whether or not he had any chance against the shadow that was so much greater than him. He was going to fight it. Just like he promised Lord Zemi he would.

And maybe then… they’ll like me.

The way ahead was blocked at the top of the stairs. But this did not concern Lucci. The huge doors crashed inwards at a flick of his hand. The rock cracked and crumpled into a pile on the other side of the doorway as if it was nothing more than brittled bread. He stepped over it, his tall black boots crushing down on the rubble as if he bore an immense and invisible weight.

Kaz had stopped, frozen on the other side of the doorway. Lucci didn’t say anything, but he could feel the lack of his guide behind him. In response to his thoughts, an answer came, low and sad.

“I am not strong enough to enter Zeromus’ Keep. This is as far as I can go, Lucci-boy,” the spirit intoned with a heavy sound. Unshed tears glittered in his eyes… if such a thing could really exist within one that had passed into the Mists.

“Thank you for everything, Kaz,” the young Sygnus paused. He looked back a last time, wishing he had not. The sight of tears was almost too much for him. Almost enough to make the child he once was want to rush back and embrace his old friend. Steeling his emotions, he pursed his lips instead. “I won’t forget…”

Lucci could hear the sound of Kaz’s weeping as he turned away again, “I won’t forget you… either… Lucci-boy…”

As he walked, the anguished sound was soon swallowed up within the pressing darkness that surrounded him. The only light was the swirling of the silver mists and the dim glow that trickled from his wings. Even that seemed to struggle to remain. Breath also came hard in the depths of the Spire, as the very air there was too tainted and decayed to breathe.

The young Sygnus couldn’t see where his steps were leading him. All he had was the depths of his senses. The overwhelming knowledge of where his enemy, his father, was.

If Zeromus could be called a father at all.

I was nothing to him… nothing but a weapon.

Lucci sucked in a long breath, pausing as a shaft of light appeared somewhere in the distance. The first thing that he had seen since entering the structure.

A low hiss echoed across the darkness of the chamber. In the lone shaft of light, Lucci could see the hunched forms of shadows loping towards him. Only the slightest glimmer of black eyes, then they were gone. The room was filled with the sound of animalistic hisses and half screeches.

The Marked! They weren’t supposed to be here! I thought they’d all be in the Spiral!

The creatures of Zeromus were awake and on the prowl. Though usually the Marked were very little challenge for him – in fact, they were often too scared of Lucci to even attack him – these advanced with a particularly aggressive air.

There’s a lot of them… this could be a problem.

Claws and fangs gleamed sharply as they paced just on the fringe of the shrinking cloud of mist around the Sygnus’ feet. What had once been whole and healthy creatures… people… animals… were now nothing but decayed, mindless husks of their former life.

I should have known Zeromus wouldn’t leave himself unguarded.

Lucci had fought his share of Marked … but now he was on Zeromus’ turf where these creatures were fed directly with the dark power. And Marked were notorious for inhuman strength and speed.

I wonder if they’ll attack. And if they do… can I beat them?

The stench of decay grew too overwhelming for Lucci to bear. He drew his collar up over his nose, backing away slowly, his blade held tightly in his other hand. His silver eyes darted around, looking for anything he could use to his advantage. But there was nothing. Nothing but darkness and the wicked things that grew there.

The Marked began to fret and hiss as he moved. Some lashed at his feet with black dripping claws, reeling back as the silver mists turned away their strikes. They shrieked from it, like a creature scathed. And began to strike more fiercely at the offending mist, advancing closer and closer towards Lucci.

Suddenly, a tremendous, soul-freezing sound shattered the air. A large winged shadow swept out from walls of darkness, alighting deftly in the center of the streaming light. Another shriek erupted from its mouth as it raised a flashing, black-bladed scythe over its head. A weapon that was all too familiar to the young Sygnus.

“M…Master… TsuYa?” Lucci staggered back at the sight. For the first time, real fear began to break through his façade of bravery.

The rest of the Marked scattered at the sound of the great shriek, commanded back to their darkness once again. It was obvious that the winged Champion held a lot of power over the lesser creatures. Once the other Marked were gone, the vicious black eyes focused on Lucci. The young Sygnus recoiled more — this creature was hardly like the Master TsuYa he remembered.

Last time I saw him… he was Marked but…

The winged Marked was far larger than Lucci remembered, wrapped in the drape of cloth that had been torn and shredded where his form had out-grown it in places. His skin was a dead grey color and mottled with seething gashes of ooze where many thick black spikes had erupted through his flesh. His hair was also dark, except for the one shock of white that fell across his brow and partly obscured his face. Wide wings of black spread from his shoulders, dripping in decay.

Lucci’s stomach twisted in revulsion and grief. One of the things he had hoped to do by facing Zeromus was to free his former teacher from the curse of the Marked.

But maybe… I’m too late now.

“Put the sword down, boy,” TsuYa’s lips curled back, a showing of fangs. His clawed hands gripped the scythe in warning.

Lucci suddenly realized that he was holding his own weapon ready, as if to take on the Marked Champion. Just as quickly, he dropped the point, shivering to think what might happen should he go head to head with Master TsuYa’s battle prowess.

“That’s better.”

“You can still… talk?”

Another snarl, “Of course I can.”

“Master TsuYa, I–”

“That’s not my name anymore,” a low growl erupted from behind black eyes.

Lucci took a step back in surprise. His mouth opened, but no sound came out. Afterall, if he wasn’t supposed to call Master TsuYa by his own name, he didn’t know what to call him.

“Nevermind,” the Champion gave a snuff, grounding the butt of his scythe by his boot. “Follow me. Master Zeromus is expecting you.”

“You mean… you’re going to take me to him?” the Sygnus asked.

“Those were my orders.”

“Oh?” Lucci said, feeling the prickle of unease over his skin.

But before he could ask any more questions, Master TsuYa was already on the move, heading towards the single dark outline of an arched doorway ahead. The Sygnus followed quickly, not wanting to be left behind when the other Marked crept out once again.

Unlike the previous chambers, this one was alight with an eerie silver glow. A familiar sort of light – the kind that Lucci always saw in the mists around him. Only, this silver didn’t belong to him. Or the mists. It was something else. And as he stepped inside, he could see that the glow was contained in a large glass-like globe.

But Zeromus was nowhere to be found.

“What is this?” the Sygnus asked, turning towards the Champion.

The way that the silver reflected off of Master TsuYa’s hollow eyes was unnerving. Just as unnerving as the silence. The winged Marked said nothing. He simply back-stepped out of the room. Before Lucci could argue, the arched doorway shut with a thunderous sound, leaving no spot in the wall that showed there had ever been a door before.

“WAIT!” Lucci shouted, fear beginning to bubble up within him. He pounded on the wall with one fist. But it was closed solid. “Master TsuYa! Don’t leave me here!”

There was nothing but silence as his answer.

Maybe there’s another way out…

Lucci peered around the strange chamber cautiously. His limbs felt suspended and his motions, even walking, odd and under-watery. Light seemed to flicker through draping veils of various color from above, casting skittering shadows upon the wall. The floor under his feet, looking to have once been polished to a shine, was far too grimy now to give up his reflection.

The humid stench of death and long-rot draped over the room, seeping into his pores. Death of a very violent nature. Long, stiff figures lay crumpled against the far wall, some seeping dark pools that charted rivers across the grimy floor. Faceless, they were covered in long white squares of cloth, bearing the splattered remembrance of once-living things.

Why does this place feel so familiar…?

In the center of the room was a display of technological wonder. Everything about it was eerily alien — a strange spiral of life tangled within death. The structure emanated a pale, ghostly light as if infused by the lost souls of the pooling figures on the far side of the chamber.

Why do I think that I’ve been here before?

“Because,” a distant voice rose to greet him. A voice that he knew without knowing. “This was the place where you came into existence, LuShi.”

The Sygnus turned quickly, gripping his sword more tightly. “Zeromus.”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Come out and show yourself!” Lucci grounded his teeth, turning around again. There was no sight of the bearer of the voice.

“My son… Are you so ready to take this step without knowing all there is to know?”

He shook his head, “I’ve seen enough. I know enough. And I’m not your son!”

“You can deny many things about yourself, child. But you cannot deny that,” the voice chuckled softly. It was so calm. Bearing so little ill will.

But Lucci knew it had to be a trick. “I’m here to put an end to this. You’ve taken… you’ve killed… too many people!”

“And you think you have not?” came the ripple of an answer.

The Sygnus grew stiff, a cold feeling bottoming at the pit of his stomach. When he answered, it was with slow words, “No. I’ve never killed anyone.”

“Are you sure, LuShi?”

“Yes! I’m sure! I’ve never hurt anyone! I’ve never killed anyone! Nothing except for your Marked… but they’re already dead,” he replied, becoming a bit more frantic.

“Ahh… but that is where you are unaware.”

“Unware?”

“Unaware of yourself. What you are. And what was done to create you.”

Part of Lucci reeled back in revulsion. Did he want to know? For knowing, once unlocked, could never be taken back. Everything he had ever learned in life had only stolen away the innocence that had brought him happiness.

Yet…

It was too tempting. There were so many questions he had. So many things he wanted to know.

“I have brought you here to give you a gift, my son,” the voice was coaxing. Almost warm. Almost fatherly.

And much to his dismay, something within Lucci responded to that voice. Something that he found he had very little control over.

“You see… you may not have killed anyone by your own hand, child. But hundreds upon hundreds died to bring about your creation,” the words intoned, burning into his mind. “To feed your soul and give it awareness… to bind you to the world of the Mists. Where death is your power… and your one hungry desire.”

Lucci began to shake.

People… died?  He killed people… to create me?

“Yes… I know you’ve felt it, LuShi. You can’t escape what you were born to become. Already, it’s begun. The wings are just the start,” the voice told him gently. “You’ve fought and fought to be like them. And all they will ever do is reject you. Because you are so much more… you are the embodiment of all that the living fear.”

“No…” his voice cracked with pain. The pain of realization. That what Zeromus said was true. As much as he hated it. It was all true.

I wasn’t born. I was made.

His eyes lifted, darkened by the churning shadows that drew nearer and nearer. That crowded his mind. Twisted his thought.

And I was made with this curse. This curse powered by death…

The strange silver light held within the globe in the center of the room churned in time to the darkness outside. And he felt strangely compelled to walk towards it. One hand reached up, towards the calling light.

I was made to become exactly what he wanted me to be — the Bane.

“That’s right… here is your gift, my son,” the voice urged him. “Take it. Receive your real wings.”

Real wings? But I already have…

Lucci withdrew his hand quickly. But it was a moment too late. Cracks had already formed along the side of the globe – the silver light was compelled to move towards Lucci just as much as he was to it. That’s when he realized that locked within were the spirits of all those who had been destroyed in order to create him.

“NO!” he pulled back with a sharp breath.

But the orb shattered, sending a spray of glass across the room. Shards slashed into his flesh, but Lucci did not feel it. The only thing he could see was the churning silver light as it rose up over him like a cresting wave. As it crashed down on him, he could feel an immense power rush through his limbs, lifting him up, even as a cry of despair rang from his lips.

He was losing himself.

Fragments.

He saw hundreds of lives flash before his eyes.

Joy. Sorrow. Discovery. Loss. All of it drew into him.

All of it filled every inch of him, squeezing him from inside until he felt like he would burst. Squeezing him until all that was himself could no longer be told apart from that which was so many others.

Burning.

And when he looked into the last remaining crest of glass, where the round orb once stood, he saw a reflection that he did not recognize. Blood streaks. Long, ragged silver hair. A dark sword in one hand. And the large arcs of silver wings rising from his back.

But, no matter how intently he looked, he could not remember his name.

A soft voice rose up, tickling the back of his mind. He thought he should know it.

He thought that there was something about the voice that was important. Perhaps it was the reason he was standing there in that strange room to begin with?

But none of that mattered as he listened with new delight. For the voice was offering him something he had lost — his name.

“Luccious. My son… you have come back to me.”

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

What is this place?

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

Why is this place familiar?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No… it can’t be…

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

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

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

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

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

Hollowed black eyes burning with a terrible, haunted light.

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

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

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

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

So there really IS something of Master TsuYa left…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She looked like she might start crying at any moment.

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

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

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

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

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

Suzume gave a little hiccup and looked up at him.

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

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

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

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

But they won’t let me…

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

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

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

But no one believed in his strength.

No one trusts a Sygnus.

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

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

“What?” Lucci sat up with a jolt.

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

They can’t see me like this!

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

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

“But–”

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

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

What are they going to think of me?

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

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

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

Then promptly lost all courage to reach for the doorknob.

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

The young Sygnus glanced over.

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

“I’m trying.”

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

“Really?” Lucci’s face spoke uncertainty.

“Why don’t you go and find out.”

Just that quickly, he knew that Kaz had vanished.

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

]]> http://www.dreigiau.com/ch20-3/feed 1 http://www.dreigiau.com/ch12-9 http://www.dreigiau.com/ch12-9#comments Sat, 30 Aug 2008 00:36:42 +0000 Aywren http://sygnus.lunarpages.com/dreigiau/?p=262

“Zemi... Zemi, please! Zemi help him..!”

A dull, pounding numbness filled Zemi’s being. The heaviness of Chaos hung within the back of his mind. His eyes flicked down as a strange pulse rippled from the ground, tremulous through his wavering form. Everything within him responded with a terrible, stricken shock.

The realization of what he had just done.

AsaHi sat cradling SoYa’s limp body in her arms, head thrown back, broken wails shaking her body. Over and over she called the Apprentice’s name. The name of the one that was Promised to her.

The girl’s love seemed to take on a spectral appearance to Zemi’s senses, a shimmering glow that rose and fell with SoYa’s faltering breathing. All of her longing and desire wrapped around her Promised, a desperation and keening loss. A love that was tearing AsaHi’s soul to pieces before his very eyes.

A terrible sorrow placed upon her by his own weakness and short-sightedness.

Zemi could only watch, his breath turning cold in his lungs. It was as if he, too, could feel what death was like. The stillness that was neither joyful nor sorrow, but simply was. A spirit stolen away before its time, leaving a void within the living realms that should have never been.

The Dreigiau’s hands were shaking — something that had never happened to him before. And he knew. He knew exactly what had just happened.

The shock of emotion had pulled Zemi’s awareness from the grips of the Chaos that had nearly taken him. Somehow, the Earthian had known better than he… the Earthian had been more aware than he had… and had acted with the only power he had to keep the Dreigiau from being swept away entirely.

SoYa had been willing to sacrifice his life to save them all. So fearless was the act, it was staggering to the Arweinydd. And looking down upon the still, small form of his Apprentice, he could recognize for the first time just how much the Earthians stood to lose. How priceless life was… and how easily death could come.

“Zemi… Zemi, please! Zemi help him..!” AsaHi’s face turned toward him for the first time. Her hand reached out, grasping his sleeve in desperation. And though he was afraid of what he might find when he met her gaze, Zemi’s glowing eyes turn downward towards the girl, ready to meet her verdict.

There was shock and grief written in her expression… but not accusation. There was not a trace of the blame that he had expected to earn from her. AsaHi’s pleading jerked his thoughts from under the veil of numbness and self-accusation. A sudden pang of overwhelming emotion tightened his throat as his mind turned outward, shifting from blame to concern.

Zemi felt his senses clearing, his connection to the Drei’distau returning as his soul responded to AsaHi’s biting agony. His shock and regret reflected in the tears that streamed down her face, warmness spreading through his chest once more.

“ZEMI!” Zerom’s furious howl shattered the air in the Spire. It rebounded from the walls, ripping to recapture his brother’s attention. To regain the hold that Chaos had nearly won over the Dreigiau.

Zemi’s head turned, taken aback at the sudden change in the other Arweinydd’s tone. For the first time ever, real rage and hatred broke through Zerom’s calm outer visage. That which had always been covered by the unmoving, emotionless mask now began to flake away, the terrible truth unfolding.

He felt AsaHi’s grasp tighten on his sleeve and heard her distant scream. The Spire groaned, a jolt ripping through the foundation as the howling winds of Chaos tore through the darkness of the chamber, a vortex fixed upon the distending figure of his brother.

Zerom’s form began to distort and change, the porcelain perfection cracking, consumed by the gathering of the Chaos that he had absorbed. Swaths of alien blue mutation surged outward to extend beyond the hem of his robes, growing tangled and groping. His face was twisted in hatred, no longer recognizable as anything Earthian or Arweinydd.

Zemi felt revulsion, followed by sorrow for the one that had once been Zerom. The one that he had chosen as his brother. Consumed by the Chaos and lost to the endless hunger of destruction that could never be fully satisfied.

“Zerom..us…” Zemi’s voice cracked as he spoke. But it was too late. Zerom had chosen his path willingly.

“Fight me, Zemi!” the creature hissed as it rose up, looming and monstrous.

“No…” Zemi’s voice came as a hoarse whisper.

“FIGHT ME!!” the Hatred howled in demand. Waves of Chaos snapped forward, trying to cage the Dreigiau within the sway of darkness once more.

Zemi buckled back, attempting to resist. But the pull of Chaos was tantalizing, overwhelmingly desirable. He felt his fangs bare, a vicious snarl once more cross his lips. And he knew he was falling… falling back into the hatred again. Back into the place from which he could not return.

Images of memory flashed through his mind…

…the smile of a young boy… ZenToYa… sitting on the stone floor of the Host Gate… …peering up with trust and love at the vision of the strange white Dragon… the creature whom brought the boy knowledge of power that was far beyond the Earthians’ reach…

…visions of the early days of Nefol… the people who chose to leave their safe Gatherings to learn…. they would become his Apprentices…

…the children of ZenToYa… SoYa and TsuYa… the struggles and heartache that both had to live through due to their heritage… due to their destiny…

..the winged Awakened that awaited upon the floating Island….

…his beloved servants, the Dragons…. KaiShi… Kudako…. Brunswik… Islay…

…his sisters… Zazo… Zeni… so young in the ways of the Earthians, yet… would they follow the path of Chaos or Creation…?

…then the girl… AsaHi…

…the one who had come to him mysteriously… the one that he knew would come… the one that opened the path to his freedom… the one that had begun to teach him the meaning of love…

…so many people… those who trusted him… those who he would hurt, just as he had hurt SoYa… if he fell to the Chaos…

“Zemi!”

A pinprick of light filled the confusion within mind. A gentle touch — it was AsaHi’s hand, touching his own.

The tiny girl sat, reaching out as far as her arm could. Light green eyes met his gaze — pleading, fearful, full of anguish. He felt himself pulled toward the light that he saw there.

And the Chaos scattered from her touch. The darkness bled away from him, the Dreigiau safe and protected by her will… her strength… her understanding… and her love.

A howl of tremendous rage shook the Spire as swaths of blue groped maliciously towards AsaHi. The thing that had obstructed Chaos’ control.  Seething Hatred spat forward, driven by the desire of destruction.

Her eyes turned from the Dreigiau, pale face luminous against the immensity of the shadow. There was no fear there as she watched what was once Zerom bear down upon her. The girl did not flinch. Her grip on his hand did not loosen.

She remained by his side. True. Solid. Unyielding.

Instantly, Zemi responded. A brilliant light bloomed from the midst of the wavering vision as his own form shifted and expanded, taking on the transformation of the Dragon. His white wings rose and spread huge, bursting through the fragile stone walls of the Earthian building. His majestic head reared back, his tremendous roar shaking the heavens.

“Zemi..?!” AsaHi gasped.

She was just a tiny shape on the ground, hovering over SoYa’s motionless form. Staring up at him in wonder and awe. For now the Dragon was far more radiant than white – his power strengthened from within by the bond of understanding between them. The Chaos shed away, melting as the Dreigiau reared up, the light of Creation burning in vast contrast to the dark.

The choice had been made.

Gently, Zemi reached down with one enormous claw, carefully enclosing the two. Protecting them from the onslaught of the Zeromus. Again, the approaching shadows melted away, like paper eaten by flame. Then with one effortless bound, the Dreigiau took to the skies, carrying them away. Though his once-brother’s enraged howl trailed after him, no longer did it have any influence over his being.

The churning clouds folded away at Zemi’s command, the Chaos scattering from the brilliant white light that now consumed him. The tiny form of the Zeni-bird wheeled and capered through the sky-mists nearby. This went unnoticed… for the only thought that now hung within the Dreigiau’s mind was deep concern for the life his Apprentice, SoYa.

AsaHi’s hand gripped his sleeve more tightly, her breath gasping as she, too, responded to the alterations that had begun within the Arweinydd.

AsaHi’s scream was sharp in the air as SoYa felt himself thrown, scattered across the floor. Then he began to slide.  The entire Spire was leaning, groaning as the two Arweinydd locked in upon each other in the throws of silent mind-battle.

Jolts of energy crackled through the structure, the forms of both Zerom and Zemi taking on a strange, wavering-edged appearance. It seemed like they were shifting, changing… transforming under the force of Chaos that now saturated everything around them.

No…. Zemi!

SoYa had cried out, begged, beseeched… But his pleading had gone unnoticed, a tiny voice lost in the tempest of power that tore them all from the grips of reality and threw the chamber into pandemonium.

One glance through the windows told SoYa that the world had altered — as if they had been dropped into some alternate state of existence. The Apprentice could see the black froth of clouds swirling and churning endlessly around the tilted Spire. Streaks of eerie blue flickered and flashed underneath them, a brewing of pulsar energy gathering at the command of the Arweinydd. Somewhere far in the distance, a single point of white light flickered, throbbing like the fragile heartbeat of a world that awaited the final word.

SoYa could feel AsaHi by his side. He could see the terror reflected in her eyes as she gaped at the shifting, irresolute form of Zemi. He could sense the fear that filled her soul, but he could also sense her longing… her desire to rush up to the Dreigiau… to yank him away from the clutches of the Chaos that was bent on consuming him.

To save Zemi.

How…. how…?

He wanted to take her by the shoulders and ask her.

How can anyone stop what’s happening?

Still, SoYa couldn’t shake the sense that AsaHi’s thoughts were resolute. As if she knew something that he didn’t. As if she knew what needed to be done.

The otherworldly glow flickered in the depths of her soft eyes. AsaHi was completely focused upon the two Arweinydd who were still locked within a battle that SoYa’s senses could not comprehend. There had been a long time of silence where will and whim alone had fought. Finally, when the voice of Zerom came again, it was distorted and mangled, nearly beyond understanding.

“Can you feel it now, Zemi?” the dark eyes burned upon his brother, “This is the real power… the real potential… and you will be the one to open the way to it for me.”

“Open the way to what, Zerom? What have you gotten yourself into?” the Dreigiau growled.

With a startle, SoYa realized that Zemi’s voice was also distorted, sounding nothing like it usually did. AsaHi’s hand gripped his sleeve more tightly, her breath gasping as she, too, responded to the alterations that had begun within the Arweinydd.

“The great Dreigiau… choosing his path in such naivety? I can hardly believe it. In fact, I don’t,” Zerom sneered. “You aren’t fooling anyone here… pretending you were some benevolent higher being watching over the Earthians.”

A snarl broke over Zemi’s face, his form wavering threateningly, almost losing all grasp on physicality. “You don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“And sucking them dry… all the while, you became more powerful,” his sneer grew more twisted. “Well, you were too slow, Zemi. I discovered your secrets. I discovered the power that you commanded… and power even beyond that.”

“You’ve discovered nothing… all you’ve done is take what was already here and tear it to pieces,” the Dreigiau argued, lip curling back.

“Exactly,” Zerom’s eyes flashed, a sudden feverish look shifting over his face. His own motion mocked Zemi’s, his hair streaming behind him in strands of white, grey and black. “You’re a fool, Zemi. Spending so much time pouring your energy and essence into these worthless creatures. They only linger shortly, then pass and die. The real power is found in their death… in the release of their connection to this world. In their destruction.”

Zemi hissed sharply, visibly taking a step back.

“In the Chaos.”

A shiver rushed over SoYa’s body as the final word fell heavily over the room, lingering heaviest upon the Dreigiau. Zemi gave a choked sound, his form crackling and sparking, threatening to fall apart.

“And your fall will be the most delicious of all, Brother,” Zerom’s fevered expression became more and more delirious. One slender hand reached out, dark energies gathering, pulling from the very core of his existence. “If I could gain this much power through the destruction of these worthless, pathetic Earthians… I can’t dream of what will come from you.”

A deep, distorted growl shook through Zemi’s body as he fought, his image wavering into near transparency. The impact of the Chaos knocked the breath out of SoYa, even where he crouched watching the struggle, seeped in a crushing weight of hopelessness.

Zemi was now gathering his own strength, readying himself to make a counteracting assault upon the darkness. But the more energy he gathered, the more transparent his form becaome to SoYa’s eyes. As if pulling up a defense only served to cast the Dreigiau deeper into the fray of Chaos.

But why? If Zemi is trying to fight against it… if he’s not giving into the Chaos… if he wants to strike out against Zerom then-

The words of Aur sprang back to him as his thoughts flew back into action again. The creature had said that the power of two Arweinydd opposing each other would cause great destruction. And that the heart of Chaos lay within the power that was released through the act of destroying.

Zemi’s about to do exactly what Zerom wants him to!

All thought froze in SoYa’s mind as the realization fell upon him.

If Zemi’s energy clashes with Zerom’s, then the destruction will not only start a reaction that will feed Zerom’s power… but also possibly take everything with it!

The Apprentice’s eyes fixed upon the flow of light and darkness that gathered within the hands of the two Arweinydd. And though he felt tiny… though he felt like a nothing, an insignificant Earthian in the vastness of the events unfolding before him, SoYa found himself fighting to stand. His face hardened in determination as he fought the tremors of fear that rippled over him. And he knew what had to be done.

“You can’t do this, Zemi!” SoYa’s voice resounded through the twisted chamber, far louder than he had imagined it could ever be. His feet slipped in the shadow-coated floors as he struggled to push forward against the force of Chaos that shook the stone underneath him.

There was no reaction. Neither Arweinydd seemed to even notice his pale, shivering form only yards away.

“ZEMI!” he cried again, a burst of dark energy cutting his shout short. Doubling over, SoYa reeled, catching himself on his palms and knees. The skin on his face stung from the blast, almost singed, though there was no flame.

The Apprentice watched as the Dreigiau lifted his hands, green slitted eyes fixed upon the form of his brother. The gathering of power swept around Zemi, only moments from release. And Zerom loomed over it all, awaiting fruitation, his twisted sneer gleaming from the shadows.

“NO!”

Shoving upwards with all of his strength, SoYa fought to gain his footing again. The stone floor reeled, ever more violently, as if knowing his intentions. His mind swam with the overwhelming pressure of Chaos and conflicting energy. The Apprentice grit his teeth and bit back the pain as every muscle in his body ached to put one foot in front of the other.

“Zemi, don’t let Zerom trick yo–”

Unhearing, Zemi’s hands dropped. A release of power. Pale white energy leapt viciously from the Dreigiau’s open palms towards the shadowy form of his brother.

NO! ZEMI!

There was no time to think. No other way. As the pulse of brilliant energy flew from the Dreigiau’s hands, SoYa launched himself forward with the strength he could find. Both hands outstretched, he cast a pitiful last-moment attempt at mind-protection before the blow.

The Apprentice threw himself before the Dreigiau. His body crumpled like a discarded piece of parchment as Zemi’s pale-white blast struck him.

A gurgled cry of anguish ripped from SoYa’s mouth. The world flashed through a vision of painful white. His weak mind-warding shattered, sending him recoiling as if he had been struck with an arrow to the brain.

Zemi… don’t…

Though he expected instant death, he found that he could still see, though as if from a distance. The world reeled and spiraled in flashes of light and dark. He could hear the grief stricken sound of AsaHi’s cries.

Then her face hovered above him, looking somehow dim. He reached for her hand, grasping it weakly. SoYa managed to force three final words from his throat before darkness overcame him, “AsaHi… help Zemi…”

TsuYa found himself leaning forward, flattened long over the she-wolf’s back, his knees pressed into her sides and fighting to hold his balance.

The voice echoed into the dark recesses of TsuYa’s mind, slicing through the thick curtain that obscured his awareness. His body felt heavy, as if it was no longer his own.

-TsuYa, open your eyes…-

The voice prodded him again, a dull pulse within his internal ear. Every instinct shied away from it, fearing to answer… to move… to be discovered.

Zerom…no! I won’t!

-Oh, come on. Give me a break, here!-

Instantly, something responded in surprise, a jolt strong enough to bring him around.

Zazo..!?

-What are you, gonna do… just lay there and give up? I didn’t think you were that much of a wuss.-

TsuYa’s eyes flipped open as a rousing anger brought him out of the shadows. There was still a dull ache that thrummed in his chest. Lying on his back, he could see the sharp-nosed she-wolf standing over him, her muzzle only inches away from his face.

-That’s better. Get up. We’ve got places to go.-

The Apprentice coughed, choking up something thick in his throat as he attempted to talk. It tasted like rotten meat, but there was little he could do to clear his mouth of the sensation.

-Don’t waste your energy. We’ve got a long road ahead. I managed to pull you out of it… but I can only hold Zerom off for so long.-

What… do you mean…? What happened to me…?

Zazo tilted her head, tongue lolling out. -Let’s just say you owe me big time.-

Owe you? For what?

TsuYa gave her a sharp frown, struggling to gather strength enough to get to his feet. But much to his dismay, he could hardly force himself up to a crouch.

-As I said, don’t waste your energy.- Zazo chided.

Where is Father?

-He’s gone, probably far away from this place. And a lot safer than you are.-

That’s right… he flew away… with LuShi…

-I still think it’s a BAD idea to leave that thing alive. But you do what you will. Things are sticky enough up top without me crossing Zemi, too.-

For the first time, TsuYa realized that the ground under him was still unsteady, shaking and rolling under powerful impressions. Outside the great arch, he could see flashes of lightning in the icy sky. And in his mind he could feel the tumult of Chaos that rippled over the land.

They are fighting…?

-I’m not sure.- Zazo replied. -It’s probably none of our business. The only thing I do know is that you have to get out of here. You don’t have a lot of time before my wardings on you wear off. And then…-

TsuYa nodded in weak comprehension. Again, he struggled to find the strength to push himself to his feet. And again, he was denied.

-Pathetic Earthian. Do I have to do everything for you?- Zazo snuffed, tail flipping back and forth as if she actually was enjoying herself.

I didn’t ask you to do anything.

-No. You didn’t. But I’m not giving you a choice.- The huge wolf crouched next to him, eyes flickering as she moved closer.

What do you think you’re doing?

-Carrying you out of here.-

You gotta be kidding me!

-Stop arguing with me! Just grab on!-

Grab on to wha…

Before TsuYa knew what was happening, his fingers had entwined in thick, silvery fur. Something about it felt unreal, as if the true nature of fur itself was not completely known to its maker. Yet it was solid enough for him to grasp… and he found himself lifted up astride the she-wolf’s sleek back.

A strangled sound of shock escaped his lips as he felt Zazo’s first great bounds taking them out into the frozen streets of Nefol. Afterall, he had never actually touched an Arweinydd before this… much less ridden on one. TsuYa found himself leaning forward, flattened long over the she-wolf’s back, his knees pressed into her sides and fighting to hold his balance.

If any of Father’s riding skills ever got passed down to me, please let them show up right about now!

Though no streams of breath came from her mouth as she ran and no paw prints were left in the cold soil behind, Zazo certainly felt just as solid as any real creature would. Still, TsuYa could see flickers of the blurring ground through her shape now and again. It was such an unsettling thought that the Apprentice decided to simply shove it to the back of his mind and not peruse it any further.

-Keeping your mouth shut for once?- Zazo’s voice filled his mind, chiding.

TsuYa gave no answer. He simply grimaced, dark eyes squinting ahead into the streets. All of his concentration was bent on using what strength he had left to cling tightly to the Arweinydd as they sped over cobblestone and past the hollow, empty-shelled buildings of the city.

-Get ready. They’re coming.-

The warning came just a split moment before he heard it. The terrible, inhuman screech of the Marked shattered the air from every direction. Clinging tighter to the scruff of the she-wolf’s neck, TsuYa cast his eyes upwards.

Dripping shadows emerged from the narrow side roads. The Marked were everywhere. Within the buildings. Along the street. And blocking the wide stone exit gate.

What do we do?

Panic flooded through the Apprentice, his breaths coming in frantic gasps. The sky above was growing darker by the minute, casting the streets of Nefol into premature twilight. The clouds split with fierce tongues of violet lightning. One bolt struck a building just a few streets over, sending a spray of stone through the air.

-You got your weapon still?-

TsuYa flicked his eyes back over his shoulder where the weight of his scythe hung.

Yeah….

-Then you better get ready to use it.-

What? You’re kidding… I’ve never fought cavalry style!

-Figure out how… real fast.-

No more words were exchanged. The she-wolf simply flung herself forward in a stiff-legged twist. TsuYa felt the world churn around him. His knees pressed sharply into her sides in a desperate attempt to stay mounted.

The intensity of the screeches shattered the air. His eyes could make out the dim shapes closing in from the darkness. With a quick hiss, TsuYa drew the sickle-blade from its clasp on his back, both hands gripping the haft.

He found himself suddenly moving. Twisting along with the wolf, he was carried forward in great, measured leaps. Somehow, he managed to stay astride, weapon gleaming in the dull light.

With a howling snarl of his own, TsuYa swung into the onslaught. All of his concentration was bent on motion, reaction and pure survival. He could sense more than see the Marked as they came. They filled his mind with the pressing stench and groping decay from every side.

Yet he found himself unafraid. An internal calmness carried him — guiding his swings and holding his balance. The she-wolf continued to bank and bound, never once breaking stride.

The ground gave a vast heave underneath them. The earth groaned and jolted them up through the air. The Marked also felt the impact, scattered across the stones of the street. It was the headway they needed to break away from the groping darkness.

Zazo’s strides were like flight as she dodged past the Marked that were struggling to regain their feet. Her nose pointed straight for the open gate. Leaning down over the she-wolf’s neck for speed, TsuYa held fast.

Come on… come on… come on…

The earth rolled beneath them again. But just as aptly as the first time, Zazo used the jolt as leverage for her own bounding strides. They passed through the gates of Nefol like a silver-tinged arrow, speeding into the unnatural night that had fallen over the land.

One glance over TsuYa’s shoulder filled him with a sudden sense of sorrow. Behind him, steeped in darkness, lay Nefol, his childhood home. The very stones of the city groaned, splitting and buckling in torrents of grey. The shadows of death shrieked, filling the air with wraithlike lament as the Spire began to tilt.  The sky lit in patterns of fury, lightning ripping through the heavens, striking time and again at the earth below.

And then the vision was gone, lost behind the curve of the dark hillside as the she-wolf carried him away.

As he stepped up to the structure, a thrill of shock rushed over him.

“It felt more real in my dreams…” TsuYa murmured as the door to the chamber fell open to Zazo’s command.

There, stretching before him was the room of his nightmares, which was, much to his surprised a place that was locked deep within the lower vaults of the School itself. How TsuYa had known where to find it, he did not know. But a presence had drawn him there. It was the same presence that haunted his dreams.

And now, the room spread before him, no longer a dream. And the strange, humming mechanisms stood in the center of it all, just as it had always did. The same tubes and globes… the switchboard of lights and buttons and readings.

The scent of decay and clinging death struck his senses, seeming more surreal now than they had in the haze of sleep. The floor crunched under his boots, sticky with dried dark liquid. The air was stale and almost too heavy to breathe. A familiar dread and tingling burn itched at the dark patch of skin on his chest.

It was only when Father peered into the room from over his shoulder that Tsu remembered that it wasn’t his dream… and he wasn’t alone this time. A visible revulsion was written on the winged warrior’s face. Father had a very difficult time getting through the streets and chambers of Nefol… especially whenever they were forced to take on a group of the Marked. Watching his father’s reaction had left TsuYa puzzling at how little these things seemed to bother himself.

Maybe it’s just because I’ve seen this dream so many times. The first time I dreamt of it, I probably felt the same way.

Zazo nudged him into the chamber from behind. -What’s the holdup? This is what we’ve been looking for.-

Biting his tongue against the protest that formed in his throat, TsuYa stumbled forward, one slow step at a time. His eyes fixed upon the globe, a tightness gripping his chest in apprehension.

There’s no telling what’s inside that thing…

“Inside?” Father echoed, obviously picking up the apprehension in his thoughts.

“Father…” TsuYa shot him a disapproving look. If there was one thing he didn’t like, it was people prying into his thoughts… even if it was his own father.

The winged man gave a sheepish look and rubbed the back of his head. “Sorry… Couldn’t help but catch that.”

-So the Sygnus-thing is inside the globe?- Zazo snuffed sharply at the strange mechanism in the center of the room.

“I think so,” TsuYa nodded slowly.

-Then we should break it open!- the she-wolf loped forward with an impending step.

“Wait, no…!” Father reached a hand up. “We don’t know if that might set off something. Or even kill whatever is inside!?”

-The point in finding the Sygnus is to kill it, is it not?- her ears perked forward, gaze deep and penetrating.

“Well…” his words were uncertain.

-This creature will bring the destruction of all that you know, ZenToYa. Don’t forget that.-

Father shook his head slowly. “I know you’re probably right, but Zemi hasn’t told us what we should do once we’ve found it. I don’t want to jump into something I don’t know about.”

-Bah!- Zazo shook her head out in disapproval. -You’re no fun.-

“Forgive me, Lady Zazo…” the winged man grimaced, walking closer to the mechanism.

-Yeah, yeah… Whatever.- she shook out the ruff of fur on the nape of her neck.

For a long moment, Father studied the control board with all of its switches and buttons and lights. A perplexed expression rose on his face, growing more and more uncertain the longer he looked. It was obvious that he had never seen anything quite like it.

Father glanced over at Zazo, “Do you know how to get it to open?”

-We could break it?-

“Aside from breaking it?”

-Nope.-

The winged man gave a long suffering sigh with an appealing look to his son.

Some good she is…

The she-wolf turned with a snuff at the Apprentice. -I heard that.-

“Well if you’d keep your nose where it belongs, you wouldn’t have,” TsuYa grimaced at her. Why he suddenly found himself gutsy enough to back-talk an Arweinydd, he didn’t know. It was just as surprising that she retorted right back.

-My nose is right where it belongs; on my face. Where else would it be?- Zazo’s tail swung back and forth, something akin to teasing.

“Nevermind…”

Father glanced over at them with a frown, “So what do you think we should do?”

Zazo paced around a few steps and finally stated, -Hit the red button.-

“Red button?” the winged man squinted at the board, then back at the she-wolf. “Are you sure?”

-Do you want to stand around all day?-

“No?”

-Then hit the red button.-

“Alright…” Father grimaced, moving his finger to carefully hover over the button on the panel. Then with a quick jab, he clicked it, yanking back again as if afraid of being bitten.

A whooshing hiss suddenly rose around them, the silvery mists churning throughout the chamber as a stream of racing bubbles traced down the long tubes that fed into the globe. A cloud of froth began to pour from the surface of the globe and the clear capsule began retract and folding back upon itself, slowly melting away from the top down.

“It’s opening?” TsuYa gaped, taking a step back.

Father glanced over at Zazo, “The red button… how did you know?”

-Easy,- she told him. -It says “release” underneath it.-

“Oh..?” the winged man turned back to the control panel, eyes brushing over the strange runes that were scripted onto its surface. No doubt they didn’t make any more sense to him than they did to TsuYa.

-Be ready. The Sygnus is released.- Zazo’s warning brought their attention back to the globe.

TsuYa’s throat tightened to match the gripping feeling in his chest.

What’s going to happen now? If this really is a Sygnus, are we doomed?  Or do the Arweinydd know something that we don’t?

The silver mists were now pouring out of the center of the globe as it folded away to its furthest extent. Silence filled the room, only the haunting fingers chilling his skin as the mist brushed past him, swirling across his vision in eerie patterns.

Father slowly crept forward, his wings folded back and hand hovering over his sheathed weapon. Carefully, his eyes probed the mists, searching to find what secret peril the globe held. As he stepped up to the structure, a thrill of shock rushed over him.

“Father… what is it?” TsuYa found his voice nothing more than a rasping whisper.

The winged man said nothing. Instead, he reached up and unclasped the cloak that hung around his shoulders. Then stooping down, cloak within his hands, he gave a soft, uncertain murmur. “Tsu…”

TsuYa drew closer, peering around his father’s side into the bottom half of the globe. His eyes widened as his eyes fell upon what looked to be…

A child…?

A young boy, who looked to be no more than four or five years old, lay cupped in the misty crescent of the globe. His skin was pale to the point of near radiance, his hair wispy and long, the color of molten silver. He did not stir even as Father wrapped the soft blue cloak around his thin body.

-This is the big, terrible Sygnus-thing?- Zazo looked somewhat disappointed. -It figures… leave it to Zemi to overreact.-

A shiver still rippled over TsuYa’s body as he peered down upon the child. The flicker of sound rose to him. A name. And he found himself speaking, “LuShi.”

“What?” Father turned with a quizzical look.

“That’s… his… name…” the Apprentice said quietly. Then he added, “I heard it in my dream.”

-”The Bane”? Oh, how pleasant.- Zazo gave a wolfish grimace. -I say do away with it. Save us all the grief that it’s going to cause.-

TsuYa’s eyes instantly flicked up to his father’s face. There was uncertainty there. And reluctance. It was easy to understand why.

If this kid really will destroy everything… then maybe Zazo is right… we should stop this before it starts.

LuShi made a quiet little sound, peaceful as he curled up within Father’s blue cloak. The mists alighted around him, giving him an air of illumination, the tiny face full of unknowing innocence.

But he’s just a little… kid…

Even TsuYa felt himself choke as he gazed down at the sleeping child. A pang of struggle rippled through his body, the same uncertainty that was mirrored in his father’s stance. And he knew that there would be no death in that room that day.

Face awash with ambivalence, Father reached down and lifted the little boy from the shifting mists. His eyes were heavy with indecision, a choice that he would be unable to make. But there was one thing that was certain.

“We can’t leave this child here… Sygnus or not. As long as Zerom has this boy in his grasp, he will be used against us,” the winged man spoke as he wrapped the child deeper within his cloak, away from the biting cold that would greet them in the outside world. Then clasping LuShi to his chest, he turned and nodded.

Just as TsuYa began to grimace, a shiver ran over the entire chamber. Something deep under his feet began to moan, shifting the ground where he stood and nearly dragging him to his knees. With a startled exclamation, he found himself knocked against the side of the mechanism.

Zazo’s ears flattened back. -That’s not good.-

“What is it?” Father’s eyes rose, peering up in concern.

-The boys are going at it.- she informed them.

As the whole Spire began to shake, trembles of stone and cloth breaking free from above, TsuYa didn’t need a definition on who “the boys” might be.

Zemi… and Zerom are fighting?

-We must move. We can’t stay here. This place might come down on our heads.-

“Let’s go!” Father was already moving towards the exit, double time. He held the boy tightly to his chest as he ran, eyes sharp on the ground ahead of him.

TsuYa followed, clutching the weight of his scythe over one shoulder. He could feel a heavy weariness falling over his body — the result of the battles earlier in the day. His footsteps seemed leaden as he struggled to keep up with the pace of the winged man ahead. And something in his chest had begun to burn…

“Aurhg…!” the Apprentice suddenly choked, doubling over as pain spiked through every limb.

“Tsu!” Father turned on his heel.

But Zazo would have nothing of it. -Fly, ZenToYa! Fly and do not turn back! You must not remain here!-

“Father!” TsuYa croaked, his voice cracking.

The feeling. He knew it. It was the mind of Zerom closing in on him.

He’s found me!

“I can’t! I’m not leaving Tsu!” the winged man protested sharply.

-I will take care of TsuYa. You have to keep going!- fangs snapped sharply, a no-nonsense snarl rising over the she-wolf’s body.

The pain increased, pulsing over the Apprentice’s entire body. And through the fog that rose in his head, he heard himself saying, “Father… go… you’ve got to go!”

-Trust me, ZenToYa!- Zazo prodded.

With a broken sound, Father staggered back a step. Then he turned on his heel and leapt into the streets. His wings unfurled as he took flight, the last glimmer of white in the dead lands.

Father….

TsuYa’s eyes misted over, the image blurring and fading away. The sound of the crumbling School rained down around him. The torture of Zerom’s Chaos ripped through him, scorching his skin like a cold flame.

As he slumped over in the darkness, his last thoughts questioned if he would ever see his father again.

Though his face was handsome and finely-sculpted, there was a glimmer of eager malice behind the dark eyes that left SoYa chilled with revulsion.

“Hedd-ynad!” SoYa exclaimed for the fifth time in the space of ten minutes.

He clung tightly to AsaHi from behind, head ducked down, eyes clamped shut in the howling face of the wind. Their cloaks snapped around them in the frigid air, made all the more cold by the height of their altitude. The motion of the huge white Dragon underneath them was unsettling despite the fact this was the Apprentice’s second time on Dragon back.

I don’t know how AsaHi does it so well! It must have been all the time she spent with the Dragons back in Wyndor.

Then, again, it didn’t help the case that the Dragon they were riding happened to be Zemi himself. And at this point, it was just the three of them… himself, AsaHi and Zemi… striking out on this branch of the mission, heading to infiltrate the Spire of Nefol.

Something in SoYa was waiting and leery that the Dreigiau would change his mind about the promise he had made. Especially since it was Zemi himself that had surprisingly asked for SoYa to be part of this group. Still, at this point, there was no one else there to stop the situation if things got out of hand.

Not Father… or Aunt SaRa… or anyone. Oh… I’m not going to get back to the Islands alive, am I?

It didn’t help that he could sense it… the strange connection that traced back and forth between AsaHi and Zemi. SoYa wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but it was strong… a bonding of understanding, communication and emotion that even his mind powers were at a lack to define. For the very first time, the Apprentice got the sinking feeling that, just maybe, AsaHi had her own feelings for the Dreigiau as well.

What am I thinking? This isn’t supposed to be about me, Zemi and AsaHi!

SoYa shook out his head, righting his gaze towards the horizon again.

This is supposed to be about what’s going on in Nefol. Concentrate, SoYa.

His hands gripped tighter around AsaHi’s waist, face growing grim. Ahead, he could make out the cloud banks as the dipped and seethed, becoming darker and darker the closer to the Spire that they came. A streak of electric violet shot through the sky, as strange, unnatural lightning slashing through the frozen air. Where it struck, SoYa didn’t know… but the resounding crack rattled his entire body. The great white Dragon flew on, undaunted.

This isn’t going to be easy… There’s no telling what we’re going to find when we get home.

If the place could even be considered “home” anymore. The ground that stretched below them was dead and unmoving. Only bare branched trees remained groping up to the skies with claw-like agony. Everywhere he looked, SoYa could sense the overwhelming pressure of anguish and death.

The Chaos… Is this what it looks like?

The Athrylith found no answer or solace in the world below. As the Dragon began banking downwards, SoYa was forced to duck his head again, sheltering his eyes in the folds of his cloak. Only the motion underneath him spoke of their descent. The pounding of his heart within his ears rushed a jittery feeling through the whole of his body which was accented by his shivering against the bitter winds.

Then, there came a jolt. Anticipated, yet unexpected at the same time. And SoYa knew that Zemi had finally touched down. It was the hardest thing for him to pull his arms away from the warmth of AsaHi’s body as the Dreigiau’s huge wings buffered the winds for their dismount. The stiff jolt of sliding from the Dragon’s back onto the slick ground left SoYa stinging for a moment, both hands still upraised to help AsaHi down.

However, she seemed to have very little trouble getting down on her own – in fact, it seemed far easier a feat for her than it had been for him. It was only after she was already on the ground that AsaHi’s sheepish expression spoke of her realization that he had been offering her his help. Playing it off the best that he could, SoYa wrapped his arms around himself and proceeded to rub his shoulders for warmth.

“This way…” Zemi’s gritty voice rose effortlessly above the din of the wind. Suddenly no longer a Dragon, he was standing in the arched doorway on the top platform of the Spire, waving a hand to beckon them forward.

What? When did he turn back into..?

“Come on, SoYa,” AsaHi grabbed him by the hand, following after the Dreigiau in a quick trot.

With no room to argue the point, and not wanting to stand out in the cold any longer than he had to, the Athrylith jogged along side of the girl, his breath misting out in wide clouds of white. This place was somewhat familiar to him – it was the top platform on the roof of the Spire itself. It wasn’t a place that he chose to go very often, especially after Aunt SaRa’s warnings about the dangers of falling from such a height.

TsuYa liked it up here, though.

Why that thought occurred to him, SoYa didn’t know. It was a sudden rush of memory… the image of his brother as a young teen, leaning out upon the uncertain railing, no fear of falling. But then, TsuYa never seemed to be afraid of anything.

Not until now…

SoYa didn’t know the whole story of what was happening to TsuYa. But he hadn’t forgotten the strange dream-vision that he had seen when crossing the Passage in the Cleft…. the dark skin, dark eyed, black-haired image of one who held his brother’s features, yet was so far removed.

And with that image alone, he knew why TsuYa was afraid.

It’s not going to happen! I won’t let this Zerom-Arweinydd take Tsu…

His thoughts scampered from his mind as they passed through the doorway of the Spire into the inner chambers. What had once been a large, vaulted room of great beauty now dripped before him in dark decay. The walls and ceilings had been built of a transparent material, once affording a vibrant view of the entire city from the top of the Spire. But now, the light that spilled into the room from the windows was dimmed by the dark underside of the churning clouds.

The first thing that struck them was the scent of decay, so powerful that the crunch of AsaHi’s step on stone faltered. Her hand tightened around SoYa’s at the same moment that he felt a gasp rip from his throat. Her voice was weak and tiny in the face of the mounting shadows, “Zemi… What is that?”

The Arweinydd did not answer. His back was to them, attention fixed straight ahead.

Part of the room had caved in on the far end, leaving the chamber wide open to the biting winds that ripped at the shredded banners that had once marked the beauty of their civilization. In the center of the room, there seemed to be some sort of make-shift throne. It was a distorted, twisted structure that looked to have been woven from strands of dark, rotting tissue draped over malformed stone and bone.

Loping around the foot of the throne’s dais were things that might have been alive once, but were now so marred by the touch of death and decay, they were far beyond recognition. Some might have been various animals that had once lived in the nearby forests. Some were once people, now twisted into the grey-skinned forms of the Marked.

SoYa felt his whole body responding in sickened repulsion as the countless black-pit eyes turned to regard their approach. AsaHi’s hands gripped at his arm, her hands shaking as another violet bolt of lightning shattered the air around them, striking not far outside.

Sitting upon the throne was a figure so seeped in darkness that the rest of the room seemed light in comparison. His robes were of a similar make to those that the people of Nefol wore, yet the violet cloth was embellished with strange golden symbols that SoYa did not recognize. Symbols that almost seemed to warn his eyes away, a deep dread stirring up in the pit of his stomach.

Though he looked like a man, there was something about him that screamed of monstrosity. Though his face was handsome and finely-sculpted, there was a glimmer of eager malice behind the dark eyes that left SoYa chilled with revulsion. And though a smile crept to his lips upon the sight of the three of them, its intent held no joy or kindness.

Is… it… Zerom?

The man rose from his place on the throne, feet not seeming to touch the ground as he made his way down the dais towards them. His hands rose, outstretched towards Zemi in a gesture that might have been welcoming… if the feeling of hatred had not clung so tightly to every motion that he made.

“Brother-mine,” the voice was cold and dead, sounding much like the icy winds outside. “Welcome be to you.”

A snarl rose within the Dreigiau’s throat, a sound so fierce and unexpected that SoYa was suddenly glad he could not see Zemi’s face. “Zerom, what are you doing?!”

The smooth voice replied, “Awaiting your arrival, of course.”

“You’ve given yourself an Earthian form?” Zemi accused sharply, obviously shaken by the fact. “After you lectured me about the dangers of it?”

A slow smirk crossed his face, eyes burning under the wisps of light and dark hair. “As brilliant as you are, big Brother, I figured there had to have been some merit in.”

“Don’t try to sweet talk me, Zerom,” the Dreigiau slowly strode closer, everything in his stance spoke of contained violence. A crackle of pale energy had begun to snap from the edge of his form.

“So hostile, Zemi?” the other said, lifting one hand calmly. “And after I have waited so very long for you to decide to return to Nefol, too.”

“These people… these lands… this place… was not yours to do this with!” Zemi grated, fangs bared.

“Oh, I see. So you are saying these people belong to you?”

“Yes!” the Dreigiau barked, answering on emotion-torn impulse.

AsaHi took a sharp intake of breath, her hand clutching ever tighter to SoYa’s shoulder. As if the sound was magnified a hundred fold, Zemi’s focus broke, his gaze shooting over to take in the horrified expression on the girl’s face.

“Really?” Zerom’s voice was a sly reminder, prodding the Dreigiau to recognize the meaning of what he had just said.

“Wait… It’s not like that!” Zemi blinked, shaking out his head as if to clear it, “I meant, these people…”

“They are your little pets, aren’t they?”

“No!”

“You just said they belong to you?”

“I said no!” frustration flooded through the words as Zemi bit them off sharply.

As the Dreigiau’s anger grew more pronounced, SoYa felt himself shrinking back. A pressure filled his mind — a power so vast, so terrifyingly overwhelming. He could almost see the pale energy shifting to a looming darkness around Zemi’s outline, a force that felt not too different to that which clung to Zerom.

No! He’s trying to pull Zemi into the Chaos!

Zerom’s dark eyes flickered over to the Apprentice-SoYa’s breath whooshed raggedly from his lungs as he nearly crumpled under the power of the gaze-then returned his focus back upon the Dreigiau.

“Zemi… Zemi… dearest Brother-mine,” the voice was soft, chiding and affectionate as it turned the tide of the conversation away from his own transgressions. Casting the weight fully on the Dreigiau. “Isn’t it time you stop playing these games? We all know very well what it is you have come to this world to seek. We all know that you gather your power from these pitiful Earthian creatures… and that is the only reason you pretend to care about them. Everything you have given to them only turns to benefit you in the end.”

“That’s not the only reason!” Zemi’s voice was strangled in pain and outrage. His balled fists quivered with the flood of emotion, shadows sweeping around him in a wild caper.

“But you cannot deny that what I say is true.”

SoYa felt himself shivering as the presence of darkness grew stronger with each word that Zerom spoke. It seemed to feed on Zemi’s emotion and doubt, for each defense the Dreigiau cast up, Zerom overshadowed the room more and more.

“I…. I’m not…” As if the Chaos itself was contagious, Zemi stumbled back, struggling to come to grips with his own self. Struggling and visibly losing… his fangs seeming more pronounced, face sharpening as it was consumed with vicious rage, his eyes alternating between fiery-brilliant and deathly-dark.

AsaHi’s voice was a quavering sound in SoYa’s ears, “What’s happening to Zemi?!”

“The Chaos…” was all he was able to choke out, eyes wide in terror as the vast power and darkness unfolded before him.

-Whatever you do, don’t stop running...!-

“What are we supposed to be waiting here for again?” TsuYa asked, shivering into the depths of his robes against the bite in the air. His breath clouded out in great puffs of white as he spoke.

Everywhere Zento looked, the land drooped under unnatural freeze. The trees, once lush in the summer light now bore the darkened branches of deepest winter. All signs of animal life were hidden from the winds. And the sky had grown dark and grey in lament of a season taken before its time.

No doubt, this could have only been from Zerom’s influence. For the land had shifted, growing more and more devoid the closer they came to the gates of Nefol.

“Zemi just told us to watch for the wolf,” Zento finally replied, eyes squinting across the dark, frozen hillsides. Though the plan he was given seemed to be lacking on details, once again, the winged man had chosen to keep the thought to himself and trust Zemi’s instructions.

TsuYa, however, didn’t have the patience for such a thing and spoke his concerns straight aloud, “Was it such a good idea for us to separate like this?”

“This is the plan, Tsu.”

“I know it’s the plan. But I’m wondering if it’s a good plan.”

“It’s what Zemi told us to do,” Zento added, glancing over at the scowling face of his youngest son.

TsuYa was scratching idly at the bandaged area on his cheek, absentmindedly. “Yeah, well, from the looks of it, even Zemi can be wrong sometimes.”

“That’s true,” Zento fiddled with his bhinod, making sure it was secure within its sheath. If everything went as he thought it would, there would be little doubt that they would be seeing battle before the day was over. “But this is a very serious situation and I doubt that Zemi would tell us to do something that might put the mission in jeopardy.”

TsuYa grumbled quietly to himself, still looking doubtful.

“Besides,” the winged man added, “I doubt we’re heading into this without some sort of guide…”

“Fine… so where is he?” the Apprentice crossed his arms with a discontent huff.

-She…-

“What?” TsuYa peered over at his father with a puzzled look.

“Hrrmm?” Zento looked back.

“What did you say?”

“I didn’t say anything,” the winged man spread his hands.

“I swear I heard…” TsuYa wrinkled his nose.

-You did hear.-

“Wha…?”

Both father and son turned on their heels, peering at the source of the strange voice. As one, they startled back as a huge looming shape took form upon the rock outcropping only feet away.

A silver-white wolf, much larger than any wolf had a right to be, stood there crowned upon the hill. Calculating, intelligent eyes watched them with a disdainful blink. A strange pattern of light seemed to flow from the creature’s form, marking it as something far more than ordinary.

A canine grin crossed the wolf’s face as the words flowed into their minds, clearly as any person might speak. -Perhaps Zeni is right… Earthians are cute. Just a little.-

Finally, Zento found his voice and managed to try to formulate some sort of greeting to the creature, “Hello… you must be the wolf that Zemi spoke of..?”

-Zemi spoke of me?-

“Yes…?”

-He better have said nice things or he’s in trouble next time I see him.-

“Actually,” the winged man gave the wolf a puzzled look, “He just said to watch for you.”

-That’s all?-

“That’s all…?”

-Well, now isn’t he just Mr. Elegant? He can’t even do his own sister proper introductions.-

The wolf gave a cynical flip to her tail as she began to make her way easily down the steep face of the hill. What would have been impossible for a normal creature to make, she traversed without a second thought.

“Si…ster..?” TsuYa’s eyes boggled.

Landing lightly on the ground before them, the large she-wolf glanced at the Apprentice disdainfully. -Oh, that’s right. You and your little Earthian pre-school tends to forget that the rest of us even exist outside of Zemi.-

TsuYa wisely took a step back.

“Please,” Zento offered, a soothing voice attempting to appease. After all, if this creature was really the sister of Zemi as well as their guide, there was no way that they should allow themselves to fall on her bad side, “Forgive our ignorance, Lady… uh…”

-Zazo,- she informed them with a self-important air.

“Lady Zazo…” the winged man bowed genteelly.

-That’s more like it,- the wolfish grin crossed her face again. -Now. As for business. We’ve got some Sygnus hunting to do.-

“Sygnus hunting?” the Apprenticed echoed.

-Correct. I am here to guide the two of you into Nefol to seek out the presence of the Sygnus. –

“I see,” Zento gave a grim face, rubbing his chin.

“What are we supposed to do once we find it?” TsuYa asked pensively.

-That’s not my business,- the she-wolf flipped her tail again. -I’m just supposed to help get you to it.-

“Well…we probably shouldn’t be putting this off too much longer, then,” Zento took in a deep, biting breath then nodded. “Are you ready to go, Tsu?”

His son nodded, somewhat reluctantly. Zento understood why – after seeing the transformation that had overcome the forested lands of their home, it was hard to look forward to what may have become of the city itself.

Unsheathing his blade, Zento peered over at Zazo, “Alright. Let’s do this.”

-Now you’re talking.- She began to lope down the hillside with a casual pace that was enough to make a man run to keep up with her.

But none of that mattered to ZenToYa. His mind was already phasing the unnecessary out, readying itself for whatever was to come.

His gait became fleet. His age was temporarily no longer a factor as he started out after the she-wolf. Zento could sense the presence of his son not too far behind.

TsuYa’s chilled breath grew panting as he strove to keep step with their rapid pace. The black-bladed scythe was slung over one shoulder, balanced with a practiced hand. An assurance that the Apprentice had spent time on the islands keeping his fighting skills honed.

Nefol… the kingdom that was once my home. The city that I established for Zemi…

The landscape blurred by them like a dreamscape. The land that he had once known was now unfamiliar and inert. When the first glimpse of the Spire appeared upon the horizon over the twiggy brush, Zento was surprised at how much ground they had covered.

How long has it been since I entered the city? I haven’t been back since my exile…

The expanse between the forest edge and the city gates was wide open with only a few dipping hills for shelter. Though silence veiled the desolate path ahead, Zento could feel it. There were a number of creatures moving, as if on patrol. From the lack of self-awareness and the overwhelming sense of taint, Zento could tell these beings were not people.

It’s almost as if they’re being fed information… controlled by something else…

Zazo pulled up to a stop upon the crest of a hill. Her tone was disdainful as she glanced down at the city gates, -Zerom’s little pets.-

“The Marked?” Zento asked.

As soon as the words crossed the warrior’s lips, he watched the color drain out of his son’s face. Though TsuYa did not say a word, it was obvious he was thinking the worst. Thinking that he was only a hair’s breadth away from becoming like the dark servants of the Arweinydd.

Not yet, Tsu. He doesn’t have you yet.

The winged man reached one hand out, placing it on his son’s shoulder for comfort. For once, TsuYa did not shrug him away, the dark eyes gazing across the clearing with a silent dourness.

We’re going to beat this. You and I… I refuse to let him have you.

-Well..?- Zazo turned to peer back at them over one shoulder.

Zento nodded, tightening his grip on his weapon. Grounding his heel into the rocky soil, the winged man crouched, ready.

“Okay…” TsuYa breathed, taking a hold on his scythe.

The three of them sprang out of the crevice, the spectral light of the she-wolf pulsing around them in silvery-white wisps. With all the speed they could muster, they dove across the sloping ground towards the darkened gates of the city.

Instantly, the air shattered with countless shrill cries. The sound was so horrific that it nearly froze Zento’s blood in mid-stride. Seeped in the depths of Chaos, the vicious, animalistic screeches shot at them from every side.

His limbs were heavier for some reason. The weight of induced fear tried to drag him to the ground. His breath caught like gritty lumps in his throat as the shadows churned in a dizzying dance.

-Whatever you do, don’t stop running…!- the words of the she-wolf reached his ears through the terrible wail.

As if the voice alone held the power to snap him from the mesmerizing hold, Zento found himself lurching forward again. It felt like the world had just unfolded from underwater slow motion.

The Marked!

Sickly shapes skittered over the ground in formless packs of malice. Everywhere he looked, Zento’s vision was filled with darkness. His mind reeled back from the rot that festered behind the black, soulless eyes.

The thick taste of disease filled his mouth as Zento choked on the putrid air. With eyes watering, it became difficult to make out the path. Only instinct led him to follow the protective light of the she-wolf.

Somewhere behind him he could hear the sound of TsuYa’s screams. He couldn’t tell if they were of pain, terror or battle. Just as he was compelled to turn to his son, he was intercepted.

-Move, ZenToYa! Move!-

One glance over his shoulder was all he was afforded. It was all that it took to confirm…

TsuYa was in the midst of battle. A viciousness that was terrible to behold had transformed his face, as his scythe left trails of long, black residue through the air.

His eyes were darker, almost as dark as the creatures that leapt at him. The penetrating sound of the Marked screeches had no effect upon the Apprentice. He phased through the darkness, a smooth liquid motion of man, weapon and death.

TsuYa!?

Never before had Zento seen his youngest son fight or move in such a way. At that moment, he realized that the Marked were far more of a threat to himself than they were to the Apprentice.

-Move! Move! MOVE!- Zazo’s silver-white blur shot past him. -The boy can take care of himself here. You can not!-

Zento pivoted on his heel and began to follow the lead of the she-wolf. His heart swelled with fear and longing for his son. But, he couldn’t sense anything of the battle beyond the taint and evil.

As they drew closer to the gates of the city, a wall of darkness rose to greet them. What it had once been, Zento could not tell. There was nothing indefinable but bits and pieces of things that looked to have once been alive, churned together in a swelling mass of shadows.

What in the name of the Seven Universes is…

Zento opened his mouth to scream. But the stench of death was so strong upon that he nearly fell to his knees. His throat tightened, an illness sweeping over him.

His stomach churned and heaved against his will. A round of gagging shook his frame. His watering eyes once again obscuring his vision.

The streak of wolf leapt ahead, undaunted by the forces of death. With fangs that were not fangs, Zazo tore straight into the sickly mass.

A spray of black exploded from the center of the gash. An unearthly gurgle rose up in response, the creature flailing and lashing in desperation. All at once, it was overwhelmed by the brutal jaws of the Arweinydd.

Almost… inside… just a little further…

Holding his breath, Zento leapt through the shower of decayed remains to slip over the slick black-tinged stone. His hands groped in front of him, catching the rough-hewn wall of the gate’s threshold. Skidding sharply around the corner, he pressed his shoulder to the wall. His breath finally wheezed through his open mouth.

What’s wrong with me… why couldn’t I take those things?

It was a rare day that found ZenToYa running away from his adversary. But something in the way that Zazo had demanded him to run… something in the fear that had prickled over his entire body at the simple shrieks that the Marked had made… told him that had he remained out on the field, he would not have lasted very long.

And yet Tsu could…

A wave of concern rushed over him. Against his better will, the winged man found himself moving back towards the arch of the front gates. His mind was fully bent on apprehension for the son he had been forced to leave behind in battle.

As Zento poked his head around the corner, a gentle pressure touched the back of his mind.

-Stayherestayherestayherestayhere…-

His eyes flicked upwards, focusing on a strange white bird that perched on a nearby wall. Tiny wings fluttered as the bright eyes watched him, with a churrup that seemed like a warning.

Zento found himself so enthralled by the creature that it was only the bounding form of the she-wolf that shook him from the daze. Zazo was totally unscathed from her own battle in front of the gates and not the least tired from her run. Though she didn’t so much as touch him, the winged man felt himself pressured backwards, away from the open door.

-Don’t give yourself away. It looks like many of them were patrolling outside.-

“But… Tsu..?” he startled with a ragged breath, glancing away from the tiny bird.

-You gotta do something about that wheeze… it’s not becoming of Zemi’s Rhyswyr.- Zazo noted.

With a grimace, he took a step forward, only to find himself riveted in place.

-Wait.-

“But..”

-Trust me. He will come.-

Though anxiety demanded action, Zento stood fast at the Arweinydd’s command, shifting his weight from one foot to the other in agitation. After a short passage of time, the sound of struggle outside of the gate had vanished. All was silent again. Even the little bird had vanished.

And a shadow paced through the arched gateway, the dark outline of a scythe slung over one shoulder.

“Tsu!” Zento rushed forward at the sight. Part of him was reluctant, unsure of what he would find. The other part was balanced on the bursting point of a terrified father.

TsuYa turned his head at the sound of his name, a slow and calculated look in his face. His eyes were still darkened and there was a strange flowing motion to his gait. Despite the battle that he had just fought, he hardly seemed winded at all. His voice came calm and distant, “Father…”

-Told you he’d come.-

Yes… but… what’s wrong with him..?

Zazo snuffed at the ground for a moment before perking her ears at the Apprentice. -Well, I got you in the gate. Now it’s your turn… lead us to the place that you saw in your dreams. Show us where the Sygnus sleeps.-

How is he supposed to do that… didn’t Tsu say he didn’t recognize the place he saw in his dreams?

Much to Zento’s surprise, TsuYa nodded. It was a distant nod, as if he was listening to something far away that only he could hear.

“We’re close,” with a wave of one hand he turned down the nearby street, leading them into the depths of Nefol, “Follow me.”

Then JouKa snorted down at him through her nose, “In fact, I bet yer one ‘o those Neffies, aren’t ya?”

‘When people are bored, a little something of their true nature comes out.’ That’s what Father had once said, long ago. Maybe that’s why TsuYa rarely allowed himself to become bored if he could help it.

He sat on the lower slope of the hill, as far away from JouKa as he could. Every now and then he would catch himself subconsciously scratching at the spot of his shirt-front that lay right above the darkened area on his chest. Time and again TsuYa would find himself caught in a suspended moment of dark memory… and most of all, dread. Dread that someone would take notice. But no one ever did.

In fact, JouKa seemed to be totally ignoring him. She had found a random stick and was entertaining herself by poking at the ground in a vicious manner. Though the two of them were forced to be together most of the day, nearly every day, little in the way of words ever passed between them. It was the only way to keep the peace, which more often than not, tottered on the edge of nonexistence.

Somewhere in between the two, Suzume sat in the grass, trying to braid her own hair. It was something that Aunt SaRa had attempted to show the girl, now that her hair was growing out again. And it only managed to win the child a headful of knots and snarls by the end of the day.

“Suzume,” TsuYa lifted his voice. Not gruff, but letting her know who was boss. “Stop that.”

The child dropped her hair instantly. Veiled face turned to regard him. It was hard to tell if there was fear there or not. So far, she had not spoken to anyone again.

“Suzume,” JouKa countered. “There’s nothin’ wrong with braidin’ yer ‘air. Go on ahead, missy.”

The child paused, face turning towards the winged girl. Then Suzume turned back to TsuYa, as if confused.

“Stop undermining me,” he grumbled back over one shoulder with a deep frown.

“And why don’t ya leave the little girl alone?” JouKa retorted with a few more sharp jabs of her stick to the ground. “She can braid ‘er ‘air if she fancy well pleases!”

“What a waste of time,” TsuYa hunched his shoulders with a quiet huff. “Tell me what good in the Seven Universes is teaching a kid to make knots in her own hair?”

“Braiding is plenty useful!”

“Coming from you and your no-hair?” he gibed, his frown slipping into a self-amused expression. She was the only girl that he had ever seen who had a guy’s haircut by choice.

“What did you say?” JouKa was suddenly on her feet, the stick discarded in the grass.

Suzume sat there, watching with an expression of curiosity.

“You heard me,” TsuYa pretended to be engrossed with observing the toe of his boot. Still, he was watching the girl out of the corner of his eye for the next undercut that she might try to pull.

“Well the men of my Gathering wouldn’t be caught dead wearing girl’s ‘air like yours,” her fists were clenched tightly at her sides, retort echoing sharp in the air. Then JouKa snorted down at him through her nose, “In fact, I bet yer one ‘o those Neffies, aren’t ya?”

“Neffies?” his eyes narrowed as he turned, for the first time focusing sharply on her face. One thing he didn’t abide by was being insulted with a word when he had no idea what it meant.

“Seein’ that you don’t even know what I’m talkin’ about, I assume so,” with a slightly smug look, the winged girl leaned back, arms crossed.

“Assume so?” he held his voice level, the best attempt at keeping his irritation from showing. But he had turned around now, facing her with his full attention. And she knew it. “You don’t know your finger from you heel when it comes to assuming things about me.”

“And you don’t have a clue about what a Neffie is,” she taunted.

Suzume was staring back and forth between them in wonder. Or amusement.

“Neffie,” TsuYa muttered, “Sounds like something you’d name a dog.”

“Then it’d be quite fitting for you, wouldn’t it?” she smirked, flipping one stray lock of short hair over her shoulder. It was one of those annoying habits that she had. But only when she was irritated.

“And just what is your problem?” TsuYa’s brows drew down sharply, lips pursed. Instantly he knew what the answer would be.

“You are!” she retorted without hesitation, faithful to predictability.

“Listen, I don’t have to take this crap from you,” he jabbed a finger forward. Seeing no ground being won in this matter, he decided it was time to pull rank. “I bet you don’t have any idea of who you’re talking to.”

“A lout with an over-inflated ego?”

He ignored that, rising to his feet to give his statement extra prominence. “I am TsuYa, son of ZenToYa who was the founder of this city. As well as the founder of the School in Nefol.”

Apparently, no one had informed the girl of his position. For the first time, JouKa hesitated as an expression of surprise and dismay flooded her face. After a moment of self-collection she said, “You are not.”

“Don’t believe me if you don’t want to,” reassuming his dignity, he turned his gaze the other way, both hands planted on his hips. “You’re only fooling yourself.”

“If you’re the son of ZenToYa,” the girl’s face contorted, as if struggling with what she could not deny. “Then why the ‘ell ain’t ya got any wings?”

“And how did you ever manage to swipe yours?” TsuYa sneered. “I would have thought Lord Zemi would have better taste. Guess even he gets a little desperate sometimes.”

“That’s not any of yer business!” JouKa’s voice had grown absolutely solid.

“Then, likewise,” he told her.

“I shoulda known. You really are a Neffie — in the worst way possible! To think, yer infernal father founded that awful ‘eap of a School!” she suddenly blurted, as if trying to find any way to move the topic beyond that of wings.

“Don’t talk about my father like that!” TsuYa hissed through bared teeth, his eyes growing momentarily darker.

By his will or by his words, a shadow fell over the hillside as a sweep of grey clouds drew over the sun. JouKa shivered in the sudden dimness of the day, weighing her words far more carefully than before. Even Suzume stopped plucking at the tall-stemmed weeds to peer at him.

TsuYa froze, caught in the grips of a panicked silence. Every ounce of his will bent towards reclaiming control as something dark and terrifying writhed inside. The spot on his chest had begun to burn.

Seemingly unaware, JouKa remained fighting to hold her ground. She lifted her chin up, forcing her gaze to meet his. “And what are you goin’ to do to me if I do? Bring the fires rainin’ on my ‘ead? Make the ground swallow me up?”

“Don’t be stupid,” TsuYa found his voice quiet to his own ears. Anger drained quickly from his limbs at the suggestion that he would stoop to such abominable actions.

“That’s what yer kinda people do,” she insisted, still a bit shaken. Her eyes flicked over his face rapidly, as if trying to decide how true the statement was.

“My kind of people?” he echoed, voice hinging on incredulous. “I told you… you know nothing about me. I don’t belong to any people. Not up here. Not down there.”

Suddenly she had nothing to say. Her green eyes simply remained fixed on the stern lines of his face. As she turned her head to peer away, the silent, almost imperceptible statement of ‘me neither’ was there. Just for a second, despite the fact she had not said anything.

“I find that ‘ard to believe,” JouKa said. There was a grudging sound to her voice. It was the first time she had spoken in a calm, non-aggressive manner towards him.

“Why?”

“If you are ‘oo you say you are… the son of ZenToYa. ‘Ow can you not belong to yer own School?”

“Because, the School’s changed a lot since Father… disappeared,” TsuYa told her. “And I hate what it’s become — run by some lousy Council of know-it-alls. All the stupid new rules they’ve been slapping on people. And how the Searchers have been instructed to go out and forcefully recruit people that have Talent.”

JouKa’s eyes flicked up, meeting his gaze.

“It’s all a big mess… it’s all straight out wrong! And it would have never happened if Father had been there,” he buried one fist into the palm of his other hand.

“Then why didn’t you do somethin’ about it?” the expression on JouKa’s face hardened again. Her blame was very clearly spoken and certainly aimed at him. For what, he did not know.

“It wasn’t my place,” he frowned, spreading his hands.

“What, yer ZenToYa’s son, right?” one hand planted on her hip as her feet dug in firmly in the ground. She was up and ready for the next round.

“The youngest son,” TsuYa said ruefully. “My brother, SoYa, was the one next in line to inherit the position of command in the School.”

“Then ‘ow come ‘e didn’t do anythin’?” she was starting to sound like a broken record. Trying to ferret out any point of fault that she could.

“Neither of us was old enough to be taken seriously by the Council,” he gave a grouchy look. It was really none of her business, but for the sake of his brother’s good name, TsuYa explained, “Personally, I don’t think they had ever planned on giving SoYa his rightful position. But there would have been some serious issues coming from my direction if they ever tried to rip his rank.”

The winged girl fell silent, now, looking as if she was mulling over what he had just told her. Picking it apart. Trying to see how well it stood up against her own precooked perceptions of the world.

TsuYa leaned against a nearby tree stump and waited for her response, determined to let her make the next move. But JouKa did not speak again — except to intercept Suzume in the act of resuming the braid in her hair. “Don’t do that, missy. Yer goin’ to tie it up in knots.”

He leaned in closer. And they shared a simple kiss.

SoYa and AsaHi had been sitting in silence ever since Father and Kudako had left. The forest around them dripped with twilight mists brought on by strange heat that rose from the mossy floor. The fading sunlight streamed down in small pin-prick patches, dappling the ground around them.

His head was growing clearer as the day passed. Still, he found himself dozing in and out of awareness from time to time, dreaming along with the haze of passing light. And his body still seemed too watery to obey any command to move.

During all that time, AsaHi had remained next to him. She seemed unflinching at the thought that the warriors were now far away and they were left to their own devices. AsaHi always seemed to have better ways of dealing with her fears than he did.

Which was why SoYa had always been drawn to her. She had a sense of strength that he, in all his Mind Magery, could never seem to capture for himself. Even when she had come to live in the city of Nefol, a city filled with magic and far away from her home, AsaHi had made her stand. Simply to come be with him.

“You know… I thought it was really wonderful of you,” AsaHi said, straight out of nowhere. Her voice rippled through the flow of streaming light, sending his daydreams scattering off among the leaves.

SoYa peered up from under the folds of his blanket, taken aback. The words had been an echo from the past.

“Talking to Zento like that. It really made me happy… you should have seen how relieved he was,” she continued, as if to clarify herself.

But he was still intent on discovering the mystery behind the strange familiarity he felt from her first statement. It took him a minute or two of floundering through his thoughts before he could pin-point when he had heard those words before. When it came, it was a rush of blurred memory, sparking a slurred reply, “Do you remember the first time?”

AsaHi wrinkled her brow in confusion, as if trying to piece together what she had said to bring about the unusual question. “First time? First time for what?”

“When we first met…” SoYa’s voice was wispy with memory.

She smiled. A bright smile that touched the light behind her eyes. Obviously, she did remember. And it was fond. “Yes… you were traveling or something, weren’t you?”

“Yes… I was Searching…”

It had been nearly eight years ago. SoYa had set out from Nefol as a Searcher, one who traveled the lands in order to find others who were magic-sensitive. Searching for new students to bring to Nefol. That had been one thing SoYa was good at. Knowing who was gifted with magic and who was not. No one had known the real reason for his “intuition” stemmed from his Athrylith powers.

“And I was living in the Gathering near the lake… with my family,” AsaHi pursed her lips, thoughts of long ago flickering over her face.

It was during this journey that SoYa had run across the little Gathering – nothing more than a tented circle set up at the side of a lake. At that time, Gatherings were becoming less and less common. The idea of settling in a city had made a profound change on the way of life of the Inner Realms. But there were still clans that had not given up the way of the Gatherings.

AsaHi’s family had been one.

“That’s right. I remember I was surprised to see a Gathering there. It had been so long since I last visited one…” SoYa scratched idly at his cheek. “I think that’s why I decided to stop there.”

“We were forever grateful that you did…” AsaHi’s voice quavered a bit. A gloomy expression had fallen across her face – darker memories coming to mind.

The first thing SoYa had noticed upon approaching the Gathering was the lack of movement. Though Gatherings didn’t have the sheer number of people a city had, there was rarely a time that life didn’t bustle within the circle of tents. Children playing and sporting through the dust. Women keeping the wash, fixing food for the meals or mending clothes for the family. Young men in practice or out to hunt. Older men fishing along the lake.

There was none of this. And the silence had been unnerving as SoYa approached, calling his hallos.

A sallow-faced woman had come out to meet him, holding a young child close to her breast. SoYa had approached to bring his greeting, stopping when his eyes fell upon the face of the little boy. Instantly he knew the reason for the silence.

“What else was I supposed to do?” he peered at AsaHi, eyes searching her face. “Your people had been infected by Crugo. And I was supposed to be a Healer…”

Crugo was a fast-acting and highly contagious disease. In the older times, it often decimated string of Gatherings as it spread through the countryside, carried on the backs of the Wanders. The survival rate after catching such a disease was very low. The mages had managed to contain such things by magical means after years of research in Nefol. And though it wasn’t SoYa’s area of expertise, he had enough knowledge in the ways of a Healer to identify the illness.

“You knew what it was… and that you would almost certainly catch it,” AsaHi said softly, her eyes locking with his. Looking deep into his gaze.

“Yes, but…”

But the sorrow in the eyes of the mother. The child, dying in her arms, never experiencing so many of the joys that the world had to offer. And the thoughts of others that may be contained in the grim, silent tents…

“I just couldn’t leave,” SoYa shook his head slowly. The motion made him dizzy. “Not when there was a possibility of Healing them.”

He remembered there had been a much smaller number of survivors in the Gathering than he had expected. One of his greatest fears had been that he would not be able to tend them all. SoYa had never dared to ask how many had already passed due to infection. He had simply begun to make his rounds, Healing those that still had enough will of life in them. Instructing the others on what herbs to cook, how to make the droughts to bring strength and to ease pain. And comforting those in loss until the early hours of the morning.

“And then you did fall sick, too,” she frowned deeply. Concern at how close they had all come to a terrible end.

“But we were close enough to Nefol to make the ride back before the first real symptoms hit me,” SoYa reminded her. As if to point out that he had had everything under control.

The ones that were strong enough to make the journey helped to bring him back to Nefol for treatment. The Healers had rushed to his aid and to contain any of the disease that might have come with the travelers from the Gathering. They were kept under watch in the School, though treated kindly as guests.

“I remember wanting so much to see Nefol for the first time,” she gave him a meek face. “I guess it seems awful of me… after everyone being so sick… But I really wanted to go. And I think Father wanted us to go, too.”

Seeing their people Healed from certain death had sparked something within AsaHi’s father. He became determined to seek out training for any of his children should they have a magic talent. And it just so came to pass that all of them did show some sign of ability.

All save the youngest. The girl called AsaHi.

“But it was because you came to Nefol that we got to talk for the first time,” he gave a quiet grin.

SoYa remembered that day. Sitting in his bed, after having finally begun to recover from Crugo. People would come to visit him from time to time. There were dangles of flowers and books brought to keep him entertained.

Then, a knock came at his door. He acknowledged it quietly and the door opened.

Her first look had been shy. A young girl, about 15 passes, peering through the dim crack between the wall and door. She was poorly dressed and a little thin from a life hard-lived in the Gathering. But she had strength, too, due to the very same thing. Her green eyes reflected the sunlight that streamed through his windows with gentle warmth.

SoYa had recognized her as one of the people from the Gathering and encouraged her to come in. She did, staring at his room with a sense of awe. He had never considered his possessions to be fine… not until the moment he could see them through the reflection of her wonder.

She stammered quiet words, looking for something to say.

He hadn’t been much better. There was something about the girl that drew his fascination. Something that his senses felt from the very start.

“The first thing you said to me…” SoYa tilted his head slowly, “Was ‘I thought it was really wonderful of you’.”

“Really? It was?” AsaHi couldn’t hide the surprise in her voice.

“Yeah. It was,” he smiled.

“You remember that?” she laughed. A musical sound of pleasure. “I don’t even remember that!”

“How could I forget?” SoYa wrinkled his nose. “I had just met the love of my life.”

“A scraggly little girl from the woods, you mean…” AsaHi teased.

He shook his head, “That didn’t matter to me.”

“And here I was, puzzled for years… trying to figure out how a mere commoner girl captured the eye of the eldest son of ZenToYa,” she teased him more, scooting closer. Her eyes shimmered in mirth. “SoYa, next in line to be High Guide of Nefol…”

“Well… you were the only one that never thought of me like that,” he replied, dolefully.

That’s when AsaHi laid her head against his shoulder, snuggling close and peering into the deepening sky. For a moment, SoYa was surprised. Quickly, the surprise melted into pleasure, his arm finding its way around her shoulder.

“It’s because you couldn’t tell anybody,” the girl said finally.

SoYa drew in a quick breath. There was little doubt what she was talking about.

She must have sensed she was on the right track because she pressed on, “No one ever said it out loud. But everyone expected you to be some great mage like Zento. And when you weren’t…”

“I was a failure in the eyes of the School,” he added with a long, labored breath.

“But it wasn’t true,” AsaHi murmured softly, as if musing the ideas for the first time. “Here it was, all along… you were a great mage. Athrylith are powerful and you’re strong with that talent… Zento has said so himself.”

“Well… I…” SoYa’s face began to flush.

It was hard for him to hear the word Athrylith, the one thing he had spent years of his life covering up. Yet, she talked about it so easily. As if it was nothing more than an ordinary occupation.

“It must have been awful,” she whispered.

Something in his chest wrenched and tightened, his breath sharp in something akin to a gasp. A reaction to the impossibility of sympathy, the one thing he did not expect to find in anyone. Not even AsaHi. Not after he had lied to her the way he had.

“How can you say that?” his voice was thin.

“SoYa, how long have I known you?” AsaHi gave him an impish grin.

“And in all that time you knew nothing about the Athrylith,” he pointed out, playing devil’s advocate against himself.

“Maybe not,” she admitted. “But it’s one false thing measured against a thousand things about you that I know are true.”

“But…”

“I’ve thought a lot about it, SoYa,” AsaHi leaned back, tapping his nose playfully to interrupt his words. And it worked. “Things make a lot of sense now that I know what you are. Things that you did. Things that you sometimes felt that I couldn’t understand.  I know you’ve lived with this hidden truth that has caused you a lot of pain.”

SoYa was stunned to silence.

“And I’m not going to be the one to hurt you more because of it,” she looked him in the eyes.

As the young moon broke away from the horizon, SoYa leaned towards her. His voice was thick with emotion that threatened to spill over, “AsaHi…”

Plain, some people called AsaHi. Unremarkable, the mages of Nefol would ‘tsk’. But SoYa knew better. He had always known better.

“I love you.”

He leaned in closer. And they shared a simple kiss.