"You'd better make his death count! Or I'll never forgive you!"

	-- Camille, Liberation Army Lancer, to Commander McDohl, on the eve of
the attack on Scarleticia Castle during the Toran Liberation War.



				---------
		    Sugar High Productions presents
		   A Rocketarian Pictures production
		    in association with Improfanfic

			Suikoden: Distant Shores
	           Created by Illyria and Todd Harper

	     Part Twenty-Eight: The Lightning-Struck Tree
			     by Todd Harper
				---------


	The land inbetween White Cloud and the city of Bristow was not exactly
inhospitable or so harsh they could not be travelled. Werner's trade caravans
managed to wander it on a regular basis, as well as merchants from all over
Heresha who ventured through the regularly travelled mountain passes into
Lierstam.

	That being said, for Tavia and her mount, travel was becoming
increasingly difficult with each passing moment of the ride. The horse, though
one of the finer-bred stock of its owner, Arik Peridon, had already travelled
half a continent to deliver its original rider to White Cloud from Lierstam, and
before it could even have a half moment of rest its current passenger had leapt
upon it and spurred it from the stables, travelling eastward at a full gallop
from minute one.

	Deep in her heart, Tavia knew that the charging horse under her was not
long for this world. She had spent her youth learning how to ride horses, and
had even helped instructors at Heimdall give classes on taking care of mounts.
She knew that this one should have collapsed ages ago, and was stymied as to why
it had not. Her eyes were so intensely focused on the blur of scenery as it flew
by that they didn't register the faint and continual glowing of the Victory
Rune, the slight splash of golden sparks from its hooves.

	She was low to the horse, one hand gripped tightly on the reins, the
other gently stroking the great animal's neck. There was nothing but speed to
Tavia now, nothing but the sense of rushing wind and the world passing by across
her stinging cheeks, only the burning rage and sorrow mixed into a volcanic
cauldron of emotion in her heart.

	It was nothing but trees. Dark trees now, Tavia noted, as it had been
many hours since she'd left White Cloud. There was a full moon, enough to see
by, but only the fact that Tavia knew the Bristow area like the back of her hand
was keeping both her and her horse from being sent flying by a path full of
stray roots.

	Somewhere at the core of Tavia's being, something logical raged against
what was, at the least, a terribly stupid action. Deep down, she was not stupid.
She knew that what she was doing was likely to get her killed, now that the
fiery haze of anger had sunken in below the skin instead of blazing in her mind.
But the passionate rage was still there, and it had control. She was going home,
possibly for the last time. To see what had happened.

	To make someone pay.

				------

	Far away from the rider in the night, a single figure in a fraying
brocade robe leaned against one of White Cloud's tallest balconies, her gaze
sweeping out over the Hereshan sub-continent, watching low, flat patches of
cotton cloud drift across the indigo-blanketed rivers and fields. Pinpricks of
light, like stars, littered the land, making it appear as if the castle drifted
between a pair of skies.

	A teacup came to Nereida's lips and she sipped gently, appreciating the
warmth that spread through her body as she did so. She had casually asked Nalia,
who seemed to know everything about everyone nowadays, where Tavia did most of
her thinking. The dancer, with an almost motherly smile, had provided her with a
teapot and pointed her at the watch tower stairs.

	"It's cold, you understand," Nalia said. "And you look like you could
use something to keep you warm."

	The strategist had smiled faintly. "You have no idea."

	It had been a decently long climb, and it didn't occur to Nereida until
after she had massaged the kinks from her legs just how much she underestimated
the usefulness of Cerus' elevator. The number of things which hadn't occurred to
her lately, she thought ruefully. Tavia's parents... it was a double blow. She
should have known to bring them to White Cloud to safety, and she shouldn't have
told the poor girl in a stable.

	There was a knock on the stones of the balcony's arch, and the
strategist turned around to find the orange and white-clad form of Alouette la
Lanterne standing there, looking inquisitive. "Do you mind some company, Your
Highness?"

	A soft, amused smile thinly spread across Nereida's features. "I am
hardly your type, Alouette."

	Laughing faintly, the swordsman shook his head and stepped out onto the
balcony. "Non, non, mon ami. It is nothing of the sort. I am kept rather
occupied by our resident entertainer as it is; I believe only the arrival of the
rather large woman from her past let me 'off the hook', as it were."

	Shaking her head, the strategist couldn't help but chuckle, especially
at the combined mental image of tall but slight Alouette standing behind
Melusine, a mountain of a woman. "Well, then, by all means." She watched him
approach the balcony and lean over it as she had. "I didn't know you'd returned
already. I thought you were still in the field."

	"I returned last week," Alouette explained with a hint of amusement on
his voice. "But I had the thought that you were busy with other duties and my
trivial report could wait, yes?" The swordsman's voice had a familiar edge, the
emphasis that implied he knew more about what was going on than what he was
actually saying he did.

	"No. I should have known when you got here." Sighing, Nereida put a hand
to her temple. "I did a very foolish thing, Alouette, telling her in the
stables. Lierni, Reid, Alaric... they're enough to protect her from threats, but
what if they don't catch her? And nothing is going to prepare her for what she's
going to see when she gets back. I know how these people operate."

	"Ah, now we get to the heart of the issue," Alouette said with a sigh.
He turned to look at Nereida, who continued to stare forward at the expanse of
the world below. "Mademoiselle Strategist, do you know much about my father?"

	Nereida mmmed lowly. "Your father? Garou la Lanterne, one of the most
famous generals of the Crownbreaker War. He was known as a humanitarian who only
studied the sword to protect, but had the unfortunate duty of performing
Heresha's species cleansing plan. He died shortly after, and the la Lanterne
family fell into partial obscurity."

	She paused. "Alouette, I'm sorry. I am... used to quoting from history
books, from my studies. It can be difficult to separate information from the
context of the moment sometimes."

	"Do not be sorry, Princess," Alouette said. "Everything you said is
true. I was only a child when my father died. Fighting had taken its toll on
him; between facing down my grandfather on the field, then facing the demihumans
once the war was over... my mother left in childbirth, my father from grief."

	"Renard la Lanterne... was not much of a parent at his age," he
continued, looking out over the landscape himself this time. "I was shipped off
to the Hereshan academy city, Port Azure, and raised in my grandmother's home. I
was raised as a noble, but that meant learning to fence and wearing
uncomfortable clothes," he explained with a faint smile, and for the first time
Nereida saw some of the care lines that Alouette's easygoing manner hid.

	She let this sink in for a moment, but before she could say anything,
Alouette was continuing on with his story. "Garou la Lanterne was not talked
about. I learned more about him from history books later in life than I did from
my very own family. So I never thought about him. But in the back of my mind,
mademoiselle, he was always there. I learned only about the ideal and not about
the man. There was no way to deal with his death because no one talked about
it."

	Nereida found herself biting her lip, and sighed. She turned to Alouette
and looked him in the eye, brushing a lock of hair from her face. "I know she
has to do something to deal with it, Alouette. I just wish I had been... *smart*
enough to tell her differently. So she could plan, do it without putting herself
in danger."

	The swordsman nodded. "I understand this. But, Nereida... would it have
mattered?" He turned to the strategist and gingerly put an arm around her
shoulder. "You are a woman of intellect. When your father died, you followed
what your mind told you to do, and that's how you ended up here. That was right
and good for you... but is it the same for Tavia? She is a woman of the heart,
Mademoiselle Strategist. The soldiers here were not swerved to this cause by the
eloquent arguments of logic she makes, though her speeches are rousing. They are
here because she follows her heart of justice and peace. So she must deal with
this with her heart, not her intellect."

	Deep down, she didn't feel anything for Alouette, and in truth she knew
that he felt nothing for her either, not *really*. Nevertheless, Nereida let the
swordsman's arm stay around her shoulder and pulled it close. She remembered her
father doing something very similar when she was a child, and though the slight
frame of Alouette was a far cry from the stout man she remembered, it was
enough.

	"You're obviously right. I just wish I could guarantee she'd be safe and
sound tomorrow, so I wouldn't feel as if I just sent this army's hope to her
death. Because if she dies, the army and the hope for a better future goes with
her."

	Alouette nodded. "Perhaps. But she has stout friends. She needs Reid's
steel and Lierni's..." he fished for a word "...mettle right now. She will need
your guidance and morals, your intellect, when she gets back. And she will be
back."

	Nereida chuckled in spite of herself. "You're right. Come on, let's get
inside." As she turned to walk back inside, she looked over her shoulder at
Alouette, who looked... inordinately pleased. "You almost look like the cat that
swallowed the canary, la Lanterne. Why is that?"

	The swordsman shrugged. "You joined the Crescent Army to help deal with
your father's death and his wishes, correct?" Nereida nodded. "And Tavia is now
rushing to see her parents with her own eyes, for a similar reason..." He left
the sentence hanging.

	There was a pause, and Alouette almost bumped into the strategist as she
stopped walking, then laughed and patted him on the shoulder. "Garou la Lanterne
must have been quite a man."

	A smile quirked at Alouette's lips. "So I've been told."

				------

	The sun was beginning to rise when Tavia came to the outskirts of the
farms surrounding Bristow, and she noted with some dismay that she was going to
be forced to dismount and walk very very soon, as the horse under her was
obviously shuddering with near-lethal levels of fatigue. Whatever blessing had
allowed her to cover two days easy riding in 8 hours was quickly running short.

	Miller's Stream, a pseudo-river of clear water that served as the far
western boundary of Bristow's stretching farmlands, bubbled clear and cold
nearby. Sense had, in the span of an evening, begun to filter back into Tavia's
mind, and she slowly dismounted from the horse, rubbing it's neck soothingly.
"You did good. Just rest here and drink for a while... and I'm sorry."

	The horse whinnied softly in response, and managed to trot to the
water's edge, where is hunkered down on its weary legs and drank, tail swishing
back and forth slowly. Watching the horse start to recover from what struck her
now as an inherently selfish act set Tavia's mind to sudden deep worry... not
only for herself, but for all the people who were undoubtedly looking for her.

	There was no way they could have caught up, though. This she knew.
Nobody knew the Bristow farms and forests as well as she did, and only Kyrina
had the tracking ability to keep up with her.

	"And no one would be so insane as to run their horse like I just did,"
she said to herself as she set off through a neighboring cornfield on foot. "Not
if they wanted to go back."

	Did she want to go back? The thought had been rolling back and forth
through Tavia's mind like an ocean wave for the past hour, possibly longer. She
knew that when she had left, the only thing on her mind had been the deaths of
her parents, the need to get home that burned like a star. Those things she knew
were forgivable trespasses of emotion.

	But, she mused as she progressed through waist-high stalks of already-
harvested corn, as the time wore on, as she strained to get home with all
possible speed and her mind wandered, having nothing more than keeping the horse
under control to occupy it, she began to think. The army had Nereida now, a
brilliant mind. And it had a heart... many of them. The Stars of Destiny.

	The nagging thing on her mind was the nature of her star, "Tenkai". The
First Star in Heaven, the first to rise, but also the first to set. Luc had
mentioned that it was her job to find and unite the 108 Stars of Destiny... and
she had to admit, every week seemed to bring another one in from some strange
corner of the Island Nations.

	But there were days... OH were there days... when all Tavia really
wanted to do was climb to the highest tower of the castle and lock herself in,
like some fairy tale princess. For every moment of wonderful solidarity there
was a moment of confusion and arguing. These were people. Lots of people, living
in one space. And the reality was they were people living in a war.

	The thoughts whirling through her head, concerns about wondering if she
should stay and still continue to lead the Crescent Army, were cut short when
Tavia bluntly walked directly into a tree, falling over backwards and landing on
her backside in the leaves and grass with a *thump*.

	"Ow..." she murmured, rubbing her thigh and sitting up. Looking, she saw
she'd wandered into one of the forest areas between farms while she was
thinking. She glanced around the tree that had knocked her down, and when she
found it her breath stuck in her throat.

	Although most of the forests around Bristow were sturdy pine and spruce,
scattered here and there were birch trees that sprung up almost randomly from
Bristow's fields all the way northwest to the mountains around White Cloud. What
was particular about this tree was that it had grown, despite all odds,
completely split in half by lightning.

	Tavia simply sat there, staring, nostalgia playing across her mind's
eye...

	"Momma! My feet hurt, Momma!"

	Tavia's mother, a short and robust woman typical of farms in the
northeast of Heresha, chuckled and picked her daughter up, putting Tavia on her
shoulders. "Alright, my girl. Although your feet are going to hurt a lot more
come harvest."

	The pair was trudging through the fields that surrounded their farm, an
impressively expansive (to Tavia) place backed by dark and forbidding faerie
forests, populated by gypsies that old crones would cacklingly note stole bad
children away and sold them far to the northern continent in Toran.

	"Moooooooommaaaaaaaaaaaa..." Tavia whined, rolling her eyes. "The boys
are enough! Why do I have to help out?"

	"Because, dear heart," her mother said soothingly, rubbing her
daughter's leg, "you live on a farm. And a farm is more than just dirt and a
house, Tavia. It's a whole being, and you've got to be a part of it." She
suddenly came to a stop on the edge of the forest, and smiled broadly. "Ah, here
we go..."

	Tavia shrugged off her mother's shoulders as she leaned over and looked
around. The trees which seemed a dark, forbidding wall against the rest of the
world at night were now a bright green and brown sea spreading out before her,
punctuated by the occasional white of a birch. Before her, however, was the most
stunning tree of all, bisected long ago by a lightning bolt.

	"That's so great!" the girl exclaimed, running forward and poking around
the tree. Her mother laughed, then pulled her back by the shoulder and knelt
before the tree, eyes closed. Blinking in confusion, Tavia did the same until
she caught her mother standing up and dusting off her dark brown dress, and then
she stood up.

	"This is a very special tree, my girl," her mother said gently. "It's
been on Reinschild land since before even I was born. And it'll be here long
after you've died, Tavia. It's tied to us. You know that little charm I gave
you?"

	Tavia smiled brightly. "The pretty crown ball!" It was her favorite toy.
Holding it made her feel better.

	"That's right. It was found right here, under this tree, when your
ancestors built this farm. And your father's mother gave it to me, and I gave it
to you. Our good luck charm... because it survived whatever split this tree. And
the tree lived too! A miracle. So that's why we'll never cut it down, and why
we'll always have good luck. Because whatever separates us, my dove, even if we
grow in two different directions, we'll always keep growing."

	The tears ran hot and fast down Tavia's face, obscuring her view, but
she knew across the dawn-kissed fields that the house, a blob of color in the
distance, was hers. This farm, this land were hers now. And though she'd been
split apart, she was going to grow.

	Before she left, her right hand, bearing the golden crown of the Victory
Rune, brushed across the bark of the tree, which shone almost unnaturally white
even after many years out in the harsh wilderness.

				-----

	For the past few hours, Ilena had remained in the courtyard.  She sat on
a stack of crates in one of the corners, disregarding both the odd glances of
people passing by and the gradual chill of nightfall.  She was determined to
remain there until Reid returned, and then have a good long talk with him.

	She was looking up at the stars when she heard a voice call her name.
"Uhhh... excuse me, Miss Fehron?"

	Glancing down, she noticed a young man in what looked like some sort of
uniform.  His face was flushed, and he was breathing heavily, as if he'd run a
long distance.

	She quirked an eyebrow at him.  "Yes?"

	"Ah, good.  I'm Daniel Hightien, and I've been looking all over for you.
Miss Nereida wants to see you."

	"But..." Ilena shook her head in protest.  "I need to wait here.  For
Reid, you understand."

	"Miss Nereida said it was very important," Daniel insisted.  "I can tell
one of the stablehands to send word the moment he gets back, if you'd like."

	"Please do that, then," Ilena replied with a sigh.

	"All right."  Daniel walked over to the main stabling area while Ilena
slowly climbed down from the crates.  A minute later, he returned.  "Shall we
go?"

	Ilena nodded.

	It took a few minutes for them to make their way through the maze of
corridors to the war room.  Once there, Ilena immediately rushed through the
door, to find Nereida seated behind the main table, an empty teacup in front of
her.  "Have you heard anything from Reid?" she asked.

	"No," Nereida answered.  "I don't expect them to return for a while."

	"I... see..." Ilena said slowly, clasping her hands behind her back.
"Then, why did you call me here?"

	"To put it simply, Miss Fehron, we are going to need your assistance."

	"Please, just call me Ilena.  And... is this that thing about the
Dwarves that you mentioned earlier?"

	Nereida looked slightly bemused.  "Yes, this is 'that thing about the
Dwarves.'  While we have been able to get by with what we have been receiving
from Bristow so far, we are now in need of a weaponsmith and an armorer for
White Cloud."

	Realization dawned on Ilena.  "So you want to ask the Dwarves for help.
But how did you know that I would know about them?"

	"Reid informed us that your father had dealings with them," Nereida said
calmly.

	Ilena's hands fell to her sides, and she clenched her fists.  "Yes.  Yes
he did.  His connections to the Dwarves are what gave him the edge over all his
competitors, allowing him to eventually drive them all out of business.  But...
what can I do?"

	"We need someone to talk to them.  Someone who is familiar with the way
they operate.  Judging from your reactions, you seem to have studied quite a bit
about your father's business dealings."

	"Well, yes."  Ilena looked slightly embarrassed.  "Even if I didn't
agree with most of his practices, I won't deny that I found them rather
interesting.  But won't Reid do just as well as I would?  Perhaps even better?"

	Nereida shook her head.  "Time is of the essence.  You will need to
leave before Reid returns."

	"But I have to wait for him!" Ilena cried.  "I've just found him after
all this time, and-"

	The strategist held up one hand to forestall her.  "Reid will be here
when you get back.  This I can assure you.  You will have all the time in the
world to speak with him after that.  However, a great majority of the army will
be counting on new weapons and armor.  The sooner they can receive them, the
better.  This is of the utmost importance."

	Stung, Ilena touched a hand to her lips.  "I understand.  I am sorry,
and I will do this for you and for... everyone."

	"Thank you."  Nereida smiled.  "I know it must be hard for you, and I
honestly appreciate this."  She turned to Daniel, who had been standing in the
doorway the entire time.  "Please find Kaleen, Kelsea, and Cerus, and send them
here."

	With a nod, Daniel hurried off.

	A short while later, the three in question arrived.  Ilena's eyes
widened as she got a good look at them.  "A kobold... and an al'Kezzin!  Surely,
I must be seeing things!"

	Kaleen smiled, showing a small amount of his fangs.  "Your eyes do not
deceive you, O Flower of Charming Delicacy.  I am surprised, however, that you
have heard of my people."

	"Oh," Ilena answered nervously.  "I've... studied a bit."  She made a
quick curtsy.  "It is an honor to meet you... ahhh..."

	"Kaleen ibn'Ashra."  The al'Kezzin warrior nodded to her.

	"Private Kelsea reporting for duty, ma'am!"  The young kobold saluted.

	Ilena awkwardly returned the salute.  "A pleasure to meet you as well."
She turned to Cerus.  "And you, sir?"

	"Cerus Cole, Master Engineer.  And this is-"  He turned.  "Blast it all,
did she get lost again?  Marionette!  Marionette!"

	A second later, the clockwork girl walked in and bowed stiffly to the
stunned noble.

	"Amazing..." Ilena breathed.  She turned back to Nereida.  "So where are
we going to be heading?"

	Nereida unrolled one of the maps on the table in front of her and
pointed at a spot near the coastline.  "You'll need to travel to Maire first and
find a captain willing to sail you to the Dwarves' islands."

	"Hmmm... I believe I know someone we might ask," Ilena realized.  "Well,
then, if we are to leave tomorrow, I suppose I should get some rest.  You will
notify me if there is any word from Reid?  Please?"

	"Of course," Nereida answered.  "Thank you again."

	"I shall do my best," Ilena replied.  "After all, I don't want Reid to
be disappointed in me!"

	Kaleen stifled a laugh, while Nereida sighed softly.

				-----

	The Reinschild farmhouse was quiet, almost a portrait tableau as Tavia
walked inside. It was quiet, though this was not an uncommon state for the home
since Tavia had left for Heimdall and her older brothers had long since left to
find their fortunes elsewhere in Heresha. Still, between the shadows in the
house and the silence, Tavia was uncomfortable.

	It didn't take her long to find her parents' bodies. She was surprised
that the bodies were well-preserved and bloodless, as if someone had been taking
care of them. After so much reflection, she didn't even need to take the time to
cry over their bodies, sitting upright in favorite chairs in the common room.

	It took most of the day, but she managed to get them to the fields and
bury them, just as had been done with her grandparents. She did cry, because she
couldn't help it, but she was otherwise silent. The more she thought about it,
the more she realized she had come home to bury her parents, and her past. She
hadn't wanted them to die... but now that they had, it was time to move on and
embrace her future. It was time to grow in another direction.

	She went into the farmhouse once she was done filling in the graves and
smoothing over the rough earth and dirt from which her parents had sprung, and
sat down in the kitchen with a pitcher of cold, clean water from the well. She
drank it all, slowly, letting the orange light of afternoon wash over the entire
farm. She was quiet the whole day, but Tavia realized she had nothing to say.

	When she'd drunk the entire pitcher, the young woman stood up and
tightened the belt holding her sai in place, and stepped out her front door.

	"Thank you for letting me bury them," Tavia said tightly, standing in
front of her door.

	"I am not a complete barbarian," Adele replied crisply. "It's
unfortunate that it had to happen, but even peasants deserve a decent burial. It
is a shame that in the afterlife they must watch their traitorous daughter fight
against everything they believed in."

	There was no real reaction from Tavia. Her emotion, her anger, had been
spent and wrung out... by the ride, the burial, seeing the tree. All that was
left was the core around which the emotions had been whirling, and it was pure
iron.

	"We were friends once, Adele, so I'm going to let you leave. You can
walk away, and we will never bother each other again. Because if you stay, I'm
going to kill you." She didn't look up. She didn't have to.

	Adele laughed, and Tavia looked up with a hint of anger starting to tint
her features despite the calm she'd finally reached. The auburn-haired woman,
dressed in Hereshan military regalia, was not alone: behind her stood three
figures in similar uniforms, two women and a man, flanking Adele as if she were
their commander, and it occurred to Tavia, as she remembered Aisha's claims,
that she might well be.

	"I don't think you're in any position to be making threats, peasant,"
Adele snapped with a smirk. "You are outnumbered, for one. And for two, someone
who would fall for such an obvious trap is not even worthy to be my adversary."
She turned to leave, waving a hand at Tavia. "Kill her, then return to the
castle."

	"You're not leaving!" Tavia snarled, and leapt at Adele, sai drawn, only
to find one of the three figures behind her old classmate leaping forward, a
longsword blocking Tavia's attack as her rage started to peak again.

	"I am the Blade Knight, Jellyn!" the owner of the sword said, a tanned
and lithe woman with flame red hair whose eyes burned with rage. "And by my
sword and my honor, you won't touch the Captain!"

	"I'm counting on you, Jellyn," Adele said. "Do not disappoint me.
Zalura! Sebastian! We're leaving."

	"Yes, commander!" the two figures behind Adele -- a tall, slim man with
faintly green hair in a severely short cut and a short, cheerful-looking girl
with long black hair -- chorused, the trio walking away.

	"COME BACK HERE!" Tavia shrieked, and pushed forward with such a
vicious, ragged thrust that she overpowered Jellyn's hasty defense like a tiger,
but it was clumsy and the tip of the redhead's sword made an ugly gash across
Tavia's arm as she pushed past, only to be tripped and throwing her sai up to
block again, pain coursing through her arm.

	"You're a fool!" Jellyn snarled, pushing Tavia to the ground, her eyes
still burning with unquenchable rage, rage that, despite the situation, gave
Tavia reason to doubt the wisdom of her own actions under its influence. "And
now you're going to be a dead fool and I will be a hero!"

	Gritting her teeth, Tavia pushed back, but the woman was like a
berserker, lost in fury but gaining immeasurable strength and speed as a result.
Her type were known in Heresha, but rare and feared because of their violent,
brutish personalities and bloodlust. Still, these were qualities serving the
redhead well as she bore Tavia to the ground.

	Striking out with a wild but highly effective kick to the back of
Jellyn's knee, Tavia managed to roll out of the way as the berserker's balance
was cut and she stumbled away, coming up in a ready position. "You can't keep
this up, not after digging those graves," the redhead growled, shifting her
stance. "And now I'm going to put you in the ground next to them!"

	There were only moments to react, as Jellyn's charge was fueled by the
berserker's adrenaline rush and rage. There was only time for one string of
thoughts...

	...But for Tavia, it was enough. The string of thoughts that started
was: I am going to die. Then the army will fail. The injustice will continue.
And the children of many, many people will come back to their parents' homes and
put them in graves, like the ones she'd dug that afternoon.

	Tavia let out a yell that startled even the approaching berserker, a
yell that was of an emotion that she was sure Jellyn and even Adele didn't
understand. The scream of righteous anger, the feeling beyond simple rage when
you knew that your death would mean the death of thousands. The reality behind
emotion.

	The Victory Rune glowed golden in the haze of sunlight and amidst the
cornfields of her family's farm. When her left sai impacted with Jellyn's blade,
a shower of golden sparks erupted into the air, and the impact rang out an echo
that was heard for almost a mile. The force alone shoved the redhead back, her
eyes flashing surprise and frustration. Before she could mount a counterattack,
Tavia's right sai slashed past her opponent's side in a spray of red and the
sound of tearing cloth.

	In moments, Jellyn was flat on her back, side bleeding profusely, and
found the point of Tavia's sai directed at her throat, the golden crown of
laurels on her right hand still shining. "I am giving you a chance to live. What
you do with it from now if your decision. I'm not a killer like Adele."

	"But know this," Tavia said, breathing heavily. "If you continue to
follow Adele, you're going to face me again. And I'm not going to lose. Because
I am the First Star in Heaven and I *will not fail the sky*."

	No words were exchanged. Struggling to get up, the berserker, knocked
out of her rage by the ferocity of Tavia's counterstrike, stepped backwards
carefully, then ran off as fast as she could, holding her side with one hand as
blood seeped between her fingers.

	Tavia watched her go, then dropped to her knees, exhausted. She noticed
that the fight had drawn her close to her parents' graves, and she looked down
at the ground, blood from the wound on her arm seeping into the dirt.

	"We grew in different paths..." she said quietly. "But we're from the
same tree."

	And then, darkness.

					-----

Author's Notes:

It's 10pm! And I'm panicked getting this done! It's not exactly what I planned,
but the timing of the part was just BAD. But now Tavia's learned some important
lessons and the story can move on. So the gist of this is: this chapter sucks,
I'm SORRY, hopefully in the future things will be better.

Thanks to Illyria for prereading and ideas and Kate Malloy for the scene with
Ilena and Nereida, even though she's gone to bed and had no author's notes.
Sorry, Kate!

Night. z.z
>Todd Harper