Kyle sighed, his breath crystallising in the crisp air of the morning.
He had risen almost two hours earlier, as he had done religiously since his
training in the Dragoons.  The time had mostly been spent briefing those who
were to garrison Atlantea until the Church could send up more capable
soldiers; he was unhappy with the notion of leaving so many green troops in
charge of a town that was without morale, but there was little choice in the
matter.

     Speaking of which, Atlantea had yet to recover from the mockery of life
that had ended only two days ago and before.  The markets were deserted,
something that had not happened in hundreds of years of recorded history.
The only people on the streets other than the Dragoons were those who had no
other choice but to go about their business, and they did so with a brisk
stride and bowed head, often hooded.  Atlantea felt scared, violated, and
humiliated, and the scars were not going to vanish overnight.

     The young captain's gaze fell upon the small glowing sphere that had
once more unconsciously made it into his hand.  Atlantea had been enslaved
because the Manakyr thought that something was happening to these, the
Guardian Eggs.  The Sleepers, the mage had said, were being unsealed, aroused
by the actions of one they called Darovan's Legacy.

     *Why her?* he thought.  *Why did it have to be my sister?*  Everything
had been so uncomplicated only a week ago, but now....  *Wheels within
wheels.  What are you caught up in, Marcine?*

     The Egg found its way back into a belt bag, as he glanced around at the
others.  Leaving a squad of ten to look after Atlantea, he was left with only
four Dragoons under his command... no, three Dragoons and one ex-Dragoon.
Cheney was... a mystery.  For now, Kyle believed he could trust the old man.
But the thought of what he used to be still disturbed him.  *If I can allow
Cheney to go free... how can I be trusted to bring my own sister to justice?*

     He shook his head, not wanting to think too much about it.  There were
more important things to worry about now.  To his left, Martin was packing
his steed's saddle bags, preparing for the two day ride back to Tienne.
Behind him, Cheney was aiding the greenest recruit of his unit in his own
preparation.  Kyle had had qualms about bringing the novice along, but felt
it better than the alternative of leaving him behind in Atlantea.

     The final member of the party approached from behind, already mounted,
coming to a halt right beside Kyle.  Torrance had proven himself to be at
least somewhat capable of working independently, and like the others, had
acquired his first experience of hostile magic.  Kyle saw no harm in using
him to finish the party's complement.

     "Sir," Torrance spoke up, interrupting his thoughts.  Kyle looked at him
squarely, and nodded for him to continue.  "Sir, I was under the assumption
that we were not to return to Tienne until we had captured the... the
Heretic."  None of Kyle's unit dared refer to her by name; they knew the
connection between her and their captain all too well.

     Kyle shook his head.  "Circumstances have changed.  What happened at
Atlantea is too important for the Church to ignore.  We've also wasted too
much time to catch up with her; by now, she could be anywhere on the western
continent."

     "Could we not send a couple of messengers to bring news to Tienne, and
resume the chase ourselves?"

     "No," Kyle replied tersely, an edge to his voice.  "The last time we
tried that, Rhyl died.  And... I have something to discuss with the Commander
of the Holy Guard."

     He looked over at Torrance once more, who was now avoiding his gaze.  A
little softer, he continued, "In the space of a week I've had half a dozen
men under my command fall in battle.  I refuse to lose any more."  Then,
raising his voice, he announced, "We leave for Tienne in ten minutes!  Be
ready by then."

     Soon, Tienne would learn of the sinister movement that had been
unearthed in this seaside port.  Kyle cast his mind back over the events of
the last nine days.  *A Sleeper awakens, High Priest Onias is murdered, and
Atlantea is enslaved by a cult of Manakyr.  All this so close to home... what
is the world coming to?*

     And to that, he had no answer.







                           FINAL FANTASY LEGACY
                               Knights of the Round

                        Chapter 10 - Earth and Stone

                       FFL Concept by Brian Stricklin
                        FFL #10 by Terence Fergusson


      "But the danger was not yet passed, for the Manakyr sent forth
       their knights, wielding destructive magic power, headed by
       the master of weapons, Gilgamesh.  They sought to destroy the
       symbol of the Church, the holy Tri-fan.  But, following the
       guidance of the Three Gods, the Church separated and contained
       this threat, and hid our sacred sigil away, so that none would
       ever dare defile it...."
                                     The Codex of the Tri-fan, 16:11 IV






     
     Marcine slowly got to her feet, stumbling on the icy slope, eyes
stinging from the suffocating cloud all around her.  Shadows moved in the
distance, but she was unable to focus on them; the smoke distorted the images
and betrayed her eyes.  "Davin?!" she yelled uncertainly, panic creeping into
her voice.

     Syeira's was the one who answered.  "Assassins!  Don't call out!  Stay
there, I'm--"  The reply ended abruptly with a grunt and the sound of blade
upon blade rang across the mountainside.

     Marcine almost cried out in response, but the movement of air whistling
past her ear shocked her into silence.  She turned in confusion, searching
wildly for the source of the attack, but nothing stood out amongst the sea of
gray.

     Terrified, she turned and fled blindly forwards, the fear of hidden
death surrounding her.  The terrain and fog hindered her escape, and twice
she fell forward, grazing her hands and knees.  On her feet for the third
time, she dashed on, straight into the arms of an unknown aggressor.  Letting
out a shriek of surprise, she staggered back, the words of a Fire spell
spilling out of her mouth.

     "Wait!" the man cried, pulling Marcine forward and interrupting her
spell.  His sword thrust forward, deep into flesh.  Marcine gasped, her world
frozen.

     A strangled gurgle came from behind her, and an assassin fell out of the
smoke and onto the snow-covered rocks beside her.

     "It's me, Marcine," Davin quietly said as he carefully withdrew his
blade.  Marcine let out a ragged sigh of relief, and hugged tighter,
relishing in the brief moment of safety.  Davin didn't seem to notice.

     "I can't find Syeira," he continued, "but I think she's okay.  I think
Mika's with her; there were some explosions over the rise.  We should join up
with them soon... I don't know how many assassins are left.  Are you
alright?"

     Marcine nodded, looking up at Davin.  "Yes.  And Davin?"

     "Hmmm?"

     "Thank you."

     Davin scratched the back of his head, slightly embarrassed.  "No
problem.  Come on, let's--"

     "Let's just stay right there," came a low voice.  Marcine gasped,
scanning for the source, but the smoke once more hid anyone who might have
spoken.

     Davin grimaced.  "I can't see you, assassin.  I could see the others,
but I can't find you.  You're a Geomancer, aren't you."

     "And so are you," came the reply.  "The spirits here are confused...
conflicting requests and all that.  But they won't tell you where I am, will
they."

     Davin shook his head.  "Keep talking....  KAMAITACHI!"

     Rapid gusts of winds speared forward from Davin's outstretched hand,
dispersing some of the smoke around them.  But the spell spluttered and died
as it approached a certain point, vanishing as if it had never been.

     "Good call," came the voice.  "Yet bad form.  You're strong... but not
strong enough to overpower my control.  BLIZZARD!"

     Almost immediately, the air around Davin and Marcine began to
crystalise, forming hailstones that began to swirl around them.  Davin
concentrated hard, sweat appearing on his brow... and a moment later, the
impromptu minature storm had vanished.

     The disruption of the storm was met by a dark chuckle.  "Good, good.  I
had suspected this was why we were being paid so much to take your lives.
Come.  Let's finish this."  A dagger whistling through the air was the only
further warning that was given.  Davin batted it out of the air with the face
of his blade, and then ran forward to engage.

     Marcine was ill-positioned to watch most of the ensuing fight.  The air
and earth screamed with fury as the two men concentrated in their battle for
spirit dominance.  The sound of metal clashing and the shadows dancing in
front of her vision spoke of the struggle for victory in the physical world.
Every now and then, the clouds would part long enough for her to catch a
glimpse of Davin, before he became enshrouded in smoke once more.

     This was one of those times... except instead of Davin, it was the
assassin that met her gaze.  The hooded man with the scarred face grinned at
her, and for a moment, a brief moment, she felt... colder....

     ...until Davin darted forward, bashing the prepared throwing knife out
of the assassin's hand, and disrupting the Geomancy that was forming around
her.  Yet the brief shift of focus was enough for the assassin to slash
through his defense, opening a shallow but ragged cut in the swordsman's
chest.  Davin fell back slightly, grunting in pain, before going back on the
offensive.

     It took mere seconds for Marcine to understand the significance of that.
Davin was likely easily the assassin's match, but... because *she* was
here, Davin had to defend them both.  And the assassin was taking advantage
of that.

     She was a liability.

     They were after *her*.  They didn't really care about Davin.  *She* was
the heretic.

     She was helpless.  There was nothing she could do but....

     *The bundle!  Where is it?!*  The bundle was nowhere to be found, and
seemed to have been lost when she had fallen from her mount.  But she opened
her right fist, and gazed upon the Guardian Egg, wondering when she had taken
it into her hand.

     It would be so easy to just summon the Guardian, and end this fight
immediately.  So easy.  She held it up, and began to chant the words when....

  <"Don't thank me," Pearl said, staring into her eyes intensely.
    "You might not be that grateful later.">

     ...Pearl's words came back to her.  Why was waking the Guardians, the
Sleepers, such a terrible sin?

     Did she really need the Guardians' help here?  Was that the only thing
she could do to save Davin?

     *No.*

     "Fury of mother earth....

       "...tremble and explode....

         "Quake."

     She brought her hand up, aiming at the assassin through another break in
the mist, which was slowly beginning to disperse.  He glanced her way, and
saw the glow about her body.  And his concentration wavered for one brief
instant....

     "PITFALL!" yelled Davin, and the spirits, unfettered of conflicting
orders, rushed to comply.

     And the ground, already weakened through the spiritual battle, was now
being commanded by both magic and elements to move in completely opposite
directions.  In retaliation, it moved in the path of least resistance; it
exploded up from under the assassin, shards of stone shredding him and
blasting him high into the air.

     Davin and Marcine were hardly at liberty to notice this, as the ground
opened up beneath them instead, plunging them into freefall darkness.

                         -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

          "Gusts of Wind, come to me!  Swirl and Gather gracefully....
                 Aero!"

     Through the use of Syeira's magic, the last of the artificial mist was
swept up and away, no longer a hazard.  She sighed restlessly, before gazing
upon the battlefield.  "That's all of them I think," she announced.  "Except
for the two that went after Davin and Marcine.  You finished checking them
over, Mika?  ...  Mika?"

     Syeira walked over to where Mika was, wondering why she wasn't
answering.  "Hey, Mika?" she said again.

     Mika looked up, meeting her gaze again.  "Syeira?  Why... did they have
to die?"

     Syeira blinked, not expecting the question.  "Well... they were going to
kill us, weren't they?  Us or them, simple as that."

     "But... why did they want to kill *us*?"

     The thief shook her head, uncomprehending.  "I guess they were paid to
do it.  Probably the Church... I mean Marcine is a heretic and--"

     "NO!"

     Syeira looked startled at the outburst.  "What do you mean, 'no'?"

     "This is wrong!  It doesn't happen this way!  It shouldn't!"

     Syeira thought she understood now.  "It's because they're human, right?"

     Mika nodded, slightly.  "I... don't understand how they could... how
they could live to hurt people.  This... isn't adventuring."

     "Yes it is," snapped Syeira.  "You thought adventuring was all about
running around and killing monsters, didn't you?"  She didn't wait for Mika
to answer.  "Well, some of it is.  But the thing is, you see... some of those
monsters don't *look* like monsters.  They look like you and me.  They talk
like you and me.  But deep inside, they're monsters, for sure."

     "But... they have mothers and fathers and families..." Mika weakly
replied.

     "Yes!  They do.  But so do those snakes we fought just north of Achal.
Do you think they were trying to kill us for money?  They were probably
just hungry, or thought we were going to destroy their nest.  Do you feel
remorse for helping kill some of them as well?"

     "N-no... but...."

     "But nothing," cut off Syeira.  "You're going to have to learn, girl,
that not everyone out there deserves life.  And while killing just because
you got paid to do so is wrong, completely, if you have to kill in self
defense, no one will blame you for that.  *That's* the difference between a
monster and us."

     Mika slumped to the ground, depressed.  "Maybe I'm just not cut out for
adventuring after all."

     Syeira's face softened at that.  "No, Mika.  I think otherwise.  You've
got it in you to be a great adventuress.  I mean, *I* used to flinch at the
thought of killing another person as well... made me want to cry at times."

     Mika looked up, surprised.  "Huh?!  You were a crybaby?"

     "WHAT?!" Syeira shrieked.

     Mika got up quickly, eyes sparkling with self-contained laughter once
more.  "I heard you.  You said you were a crybaby!"

     "I did not!" the thief protested.

     "Did too!"

     "Did n--wait.  Where's Davin?"

     "Did....  Uh, I dunno.  I thought he'd be finished by now.  Big brother
wouldn't let a couple of bad men keep him back."

     Syeira frowned.  "He should have finished long before now.  Get the
chocobos, Mika.  I'm going to go look for them."

     Ten minutes afterwards, Mika and Syeira had gathered all four chocobos,
and located the bodies of the last two assassins; one of them had been
stabbed through the chest, while the other who had been torn apart from
rubble, and lay in the centre of a collapsed crater.  But of Davin and
Marcine, they saw no sign.

                         -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

     They were falling, air whipping past as they plunged into darkness.
In the few seconds since the conflicting earth spells had been cast, Davin
had ran towards Marcine in the hopes to drag her to safety... but fate had
intervened.  He flailed wildly for Marcine's hand, thoughts racing as he
frantically searched for a way to save them both.  And then, as he finally
latched on to her arm, he realised he didn't have to, as Marcine's unsteady
voice came to him:

          "Air currents, cushion the path I tread....
                 Float!"

     Their descent slowed almost immediately, the magic rolling them right
side up in one smooth motion, preventing their hopes being dashed on the
rocks below.  They floated down in silence for a good minute, before a soft
resistance beneath them signalled that they were now hovering just a few
inches off the ground.

     Davin blinked in the darkness, and then gazed up, searching in vain
for the pinhole of light where they had made entry.  He could find no
trace of it.

     "Where... where are we?" asked Marcine tentatively.

     Davin sighed, shaking his head.  "In trouble, I'm guessing.  Seriously
though, we've likely just found ourselves a natural cavern beneath the
mountains.  If we're lucky, we can probably find our way out if we explore a
little."  He paused for a short moment.  "I don't feel any movement of air
here though.  Yet."

     He unsteadily got to his feet, hampered slightly by the darkness, before
helping up Marcine.  "We're not going to get anywhere just sitting here.  Do
you remember any kind of light spell?"

     He didn't see her shake her head, but the silence told him all he needed
to know.  He let out another sigh, then rifled through his belongings,
identifying by touch.

     A few moments later, a spark flared, and Davin held the torch up and
away from his face.  "It's not much, but it's better than nothing."  He
slowly moved the torch from side to side, shifting the shadows, examining the
way forward.  And he heard Marcine gasp in surprise.

     Rubble made up most of the floor, but here and there... the tiling of
man-made brick walls... sharp right-angled corners... faded paint stripped
away... collapsed archways that used to span the ceiling....

     "Well, this is certainly a surprise," remarked Davin, half-smiling.  "I
didn't know there were any ruins around these parts... did you?"  Marcine
shook her head again in reply.

     "Ah, well.  This place will almost certainly have some kind of exit,
even if we have to bust our way through it."  He took a few steps forward,
then looked back at Marcine, who was still gazing around the cavern in shock.
"Coming?" he asked, not unkindly.

     Coming out of her daze, her mouth set in a firm line of determination,
she nodded, once.  "Yes."  And as she got up, she looked once more at the
sphere still resting in her hand.  *Only when necessary... until I know more
about these, I'll use it only when I must.*  With that thought, the Egg
disappeared into a fold of her hat.

                         -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

     "Where are they?"

     Syeira sighed, expecting the obvious question.  They had opted to rest
by the crater a little while they decided what to do.  "I'm not sure.  Both
assassins are accounted for... but whatever caused this crater had to have
been big.  But it wouldn't have been anywhere *near* big enough to blow them
completely off the mountain."

     Mika winced at that suggestion.

     "Even if they didn't get knocked out of here," Syeira continued, "they
couldn't have walked far, especially without the chocobos.  Yet there's no
sign of them at all!  Where could they have gotten to?"

     Mika prodded the rocks in the crater listlessly, not wanting to
entertain depressing thoughts.  As she did so, the rocks gave way slightly,
sinking deeper into the ground.  She paused, wondering.

     "I mean," said Syeira, "do we go back to Voden and see if they've got
back there somehow?  Or do we wait here for them to find us?  Or do we take
the chocobos and go searching the entire mountain for them?  Or do we even
go off to Yahl Russa and wait for them there?  Damn it, I don't like *any* of
those options...."

     "Syeira?" Mika asked, slowly.  "This crater seems strange... explosions
usually compress the surrounding earth, but this one... it's weak, like it's
been collapsed."

     Syeira shrugged, not really paying attention.  "Yeah, whatever.  It's
like they grew wings and flew away at the moment."

     "Well," said Mika, "if they didn't go up... couldn't they have gone
down?"

     Syeira paused, then sighed, shaking her head.  "If they're buried under
all that lot, we won't be able to free them in time.  There's nothing down
there but... wait... they couldn't have...."

     "Couldn't have what?" asked Mika, eyes wide.

     "Dammit, it's not fair!  They can't have gone there!  Ooh... Mika?!  Tie
the chocobos together!  We're leaving *right* now!"

     Mika blinked.  "Huh?  But why...."

     "We're just going to some place I know about, okay?  Let's get going."

     The young alchemist shrugged.  "Okay... boy, Syeira's sure acting
weird."

     "I heard that!"

     "Hmph... crybaby."

     "Don't start, Mika!"

                         -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

     "Davin?"

     The elementalist paused, glancing back.  He had led them through the
ruins thus far, always staying about ten to fifteen feet ahead of his
companion.  The progress had been difficult; the ground was more treacherous
than had first appeared, and the guttering shadows produced by the torch did
more to hinder than help in certain circumstances.

     He'd given up on trying to establish how old the chambers he now walked
through were.  What made a thousand years different from a hundred years of
decaying?  At best, some of the corridors were puddle-strewn and pock marked
from age.  And at worst... at worst, all signs of civilisation had been
erased.  Where once was perhaps a guard room, only a damp tunnel remained.
Whatever this place had been, it was slowly succumbing to the elements.

     He held the torch up higher, allowing the circle of light to illuminate
Marcine a little better.  "What is it?"

     Marcine looked down at her feet.  "I'm sorry... I'm keeping you back.
Forget it."

     Davin shook his head.  Of course; when was the last time they'd taken a
rest break?  Probably about an hour ago, when they'd paused to pay some
attention to his wounds.  But even that wouldn't have been enough to recover
from everything that had happened today.  "No," he replied, "you're right.  I
think there's a larger chamber up ahead... we can rest there."

     She nodded slowly, and followed as Davin started forward again.

     "You know... I wonder who these ruins belonged to," Marcine thought out
loud, running her hand gently along brick as she walked.

     "I'm not sure.  Likely an old Church building perhaps; the style seems
to match some of the older temples I've seen."  He looked back over his
shoulder at Marcine, continuing.  "However, there's something... dissimilar
about it.  I'm not sure but--"

     His brief exposition ended there.  A shadow yawned in his path, seen too
late, and he stumbled forward and down.  Marcine gasped and ran forward,
grabbing hold of his outstretched arm as the rest of him began to slide.
However, it was not enough, and they both pitched forward into the darkness.

     Their descent down the apparent rockfall was quick yet painless, though
Marcine's still functioning Float spell gave them no purchase nor method of
preventing their descent.  As such, the final landing was more of a bounce
than a crash, and they sat there dazed for a few moments, as gravel continued
to follow in their wake.

     Davin held a hand to his head, and cursed under his breath.  "That's
what I get for not paying attention."  The torch had left his hand after the
first roll, and was now seemingly lost, having guttered out.  He cursed
again, and then once more removed something from his pack.  "Shade your
eyes," he said aloud.  "I was hoping I wouldn't have to use this until
later... but now's not the time for regrets."  He gave her a few moments,
before he did the same, holding his left arm in front of his face, and then
hurling the object in his hand to the floor.

     It was light... like broad daylight.  It was like staring into the sun
for too long, as dots flicker before the eyes.  Flesh turns almost
translucent as it attempts to block the glare, so much so that even the veins
in the eyelid are visible for that one brief moment--

     And then it was gone, and all that remained was a hovering mote of
energy, casting a strong and steady glow across the chamber.

     Davin slowly lowered his arm, blinking in the 'daylight'.  Even prepared
for it, he was not immune to its effects.  As his vision returned, he looked
around and found Marcine close by, in a similar state.

     "What was that?" she asked, as she slowly regained her senses.

     "A Light Globe," he replied, a sigh mixed in his words.  "They bind an
elemental spirit to a glass sphere; usually a fire one, since they give off
better light.  It'll follow us for the rest of the day, but after that, I'll
have to set it free.  That... was my only one."

     Marcine oh'ed, looking apologetic.  Davin shook his head.  When would
she learn that she was not to blame for everything?  She'd been in this mood
since they fell into this place, and he hated to see her beat herself up over
a simple accident.  He was about to say as much, when a gasp of wonder made
itself heard.  He glanced at her, and then followed her gaze.  And blinked.

     It was, as Davin had suspected, a large chamber, likely once a great
hall or something.  However, while the architecture had surely decayed in
time, the long broad walls of the hall were miraculously well-preserved in
the bright glare of the fire spirit, right down to the impressive mural that
had now caught the mage's eye.

     A three-pointed star, with coloured spikes, red, yellow and blue.

     The Tri-fan.

     "So I was right," he whispered to himself.  "It's a church building
after all."

     Marcine slowly tore her gaze away from the closest mural, back to Davin.
"Davin?  Can we... I want to see the rest of this."

     He smiled in response.  "Sure.  Let's do it."

     They circled the room slowly, clockwise, both starting and ending at the
rock slide that had brought them here.  And, they saw....



         ...a single man, a wanderer, exploring an uncharted land,
       seeking a great treasure....

         ...the same man, returning to his homeland, but with an
       immense aura of power surrounding him, carrying a small bag
       in one hand, and gazing at a small marble-sized sphere in
       another....

         ...a battle, an empire forged, the man becoming a lord of
       the land, wielding his terrible new power....

         ...and yet, three brave heroes dared face him.  A red-
       haired young man, who wielded two blades in his deadly dance,
       fire whirling in his wake.  A woman with flowing white hair,
       globes of ice spinning about her, serenity etched into her
       features.  An old man garbed in a faded yellow robe,
       electricity crackling around him, watching and waiting, staff
       in hand, neither crutch nor walking aid....

         ...but they could not fully defeat him.  Thus, a way of
       imprisoning was devised.  The three souls now stood apart,
       energy flowing away from them into separate octahedric
       crystals, each becoming imbued with a unique colour, forging
       their power....

         ...and the final mural: the wanderer encased in stone, yet
       still trembling in rage, his cage enlaced with the power of
       the crystals.  Of the three souls who created it, no sign
       can be seen.  Yet the wanderer bellows and rages against his
       trappings, ever seeking his escape....



     They stared at the final mural for some time, neither one breaking the
spell of silence.  Davin was the first to speak.

     "That... this... where do they teach this?"

     Marcine looked at Davin in surprise.  "What do you mean?"

     "That's the Tri-fan.  It has to be.  But... it's the creation.  That was
never in the Codex."

     "No..." she replied, gazing back up to the last mural again, "it isn't.
At least... not in this form.  I mean, the symbol... it's supposed to be a
symbol.  It's not... supposed to *be* anything."

     She took a few steps towards it, examining it carefully.  Then, she
frowned.  "It's not the Tri-fan."

     Davin blinked at her.  "What?"

     Marcine closed her eyes, and spoke as if by rote: "'The Tri-fan consists
of three shards of precious stones, weighted towards the centre, and arranged
so that all three shards are touching.  Ruby, for the God of Courage;
sapphire, for the Goddess of Purity; topaz, for the God of Wisdom.'"
Glancing back at Davin, she continued.  "'They are joined together in the
centre by a small globe of purest gold.'  That's the true description of the
Tri-fan.  Variants do appear, since the materials required to make a perfect
replica are generally too expensive... but the basic shape is always the
same."  Then she turned and pointed back at the mural.  "Now look closely at
the centre."

     Davin looked, then seemed astonished.  "There's a fourth crystal."
Marcine merely nodded.  At first glance, the final image could indeed be
mistaken for the Tri-fan, which the two companions had indeed done.  But upon
closer inspection, it now became apparent that a crystal, green in colour,
had been placed within the convergence of the three others.  Or perhaps above
the convergence.  Or below.  It was difficult to tell.

     Davin smiled, thoughtful.  "Without that crystal, it would be the
Tri-fan, wouldn't it.  But even then... you notice how the crystals aren't
*quite* touching?  They're not one piece - no 'globe of purest gold'.  Still,
you can tell where the Church seems to have gotten their inspiration, can't
you...."

     After a few moments pause, he continued.  "You know what's wrong about
this last mural?"

     Marcine just shook her head.

     "If what I gather is correct, those crystals are responsible for this...
cell.  The Sinners' Wall.  Could it be that this is how they created it?  But
what is it that they created?"

     Marcine shrugged bonelessly.  "I don't know."

     Silence passed uneasily between them, before Davin just sighed, and
stretched his legs.  "Let's get going.  I'd rather get out of here before we
run out of light."

     With a final glance back at the murals, eyes lingering on the final one,
Marcine followed, her world in confusion.

                         -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

     At high noon, a young messenger with the Tri-fan emblazened on his
chest interrupted the daily routine of Voden.  In the town centre, standing
directly in front of the statue of Ivan Tsarevich, he announced that seven
days ago, High Priest Onias of the Church died at the age of 75.  The
Mourning was to start in Voden this very day, and, like all previous
Mournings of the High Priests, would last exactly one week.  During that
period, the inhabitants of Voden would be allowed to pay their respects for
Onias at the local church.  At the end of the Mourning, a new High Priest
would be raised in Tienne, and his identity made known across the land.

     The crowd that had gathered to hear the proclaimation was quite large
and for the most part, sombre.  The messenger had their rapt attention as the
details of the Mourning were described.  However, one of the observers had
stopped listening after almost the first sentence.

     Pearl Lassenkirche wiped away a tear from her face.  This went entirely
beyond her previous expectations... she'd always thought she'd have lots of
time to visit the old man.  Bowing her head, she left the congregation before
the messenger had finished, and disappeared into her shop.

     It looked as if she was going to be visiting her grandfather earlier
than she had thought.

                         -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

     Armand Cavanaugh, Commander of the Holy Guard, knocked on the door.
After a few moments of waiting, he heard the faint "Come in" from the other
side, and so, he entered.

     High Priest Lambert's room in the east tower of the church was rather
ornate, as befitting someone of Lambert's rank.  Paintings, tapestries, and
in one unique case, a large fresco, adorned the western walls of the circular
room.  The eastern section was devoted entirely to Lambert's desk, lavish
chair, a few shelves of books, and a long slit-like window that allowed the
observation of most of Tienne.  Lambert stood at the window at that very
moment, resting a golden chalice in the palm of his hand as he gazed upon the
city.

     "Yes, Son Armand?" came the thin reedy voice of the priest.

     "Father Lambert," Armand acknowledged, going down on one knee.  After
the silence had drawn on for a few seconds, Armand got to his feet, gazing at
the High Priest's back.  "Father Lambert, the Mourning of High Priest Onias
ends today in Tienne."

     "Yes... I had forgotten it has been a week already since his unfortunate
death.  Have you any news regarding the capture of the murderer?"

     Armand shook his head, a gesture lost on the old priest.  "No, Father.
As I stated in my report, we believe the murder has some connection with the
young girl... a Mika Gilchrist, I believe.  Evidence seems to point at her
and the heretic travelling together.  We also gained a report back yesterday
from Church agents in Achal; they report that a group meeting the description
we posted out travelled through there three days ago."

     "Any word from Captain Cavanaugh?"

     "No."  The answer was terse and clipped; Kyle was a topic that Armand
preferred to avoid these days.

     "I see.  Very well... you may lea--"

     "Father Lambert.  Forgive me, but I have one last question."

     At this, the priest finally turned from the window, glancing at Armand
quizzically.  "Continue."

     "Since the Mourning has now officially ended here, should not a new High
Priest be appointed?"

     Neither spoke for a while.  But it was Lambert who next broke the
silence.

     "No."  He turned back to the window.  "The Church has too much to deal
with at this time to be able to spare the effort with raising up a new High
Priest.  Unless the proper ceremonies were performed, they would be a High
Priest in name only."

     Armand just stood there, unsure of what to say.

     "You are dismissed, Son Armand."

     "Yes, Father," he replied, and tried hard not to storm out while he was
leaving.

                         -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

     Davin knocked on the door.  It didn't open.

     This was of no surprise.  Two pillars had collapsed in front of it,
forming a remarkably secure barricade.  Also, who knew how many tons of rock
lay on the other side of it.

     Marcine looked up from where she was resting.  "We're trapped, aren't
we," she said tonelessly.

     Davin smiled, shaking his head.  "Not necessarily.  I'm pretty sure this
is the church's entrance.  The layout is very similar to the older churches;
foyer, hall, altar room.  If enough force were applied, we might be able to
blow the door right off its hinges."  He coughed into his hand.  "Of course,
that might also be enough to cause the roof to fall on our heads."

     Marcine sighed.  "So, instead of the Wall, my fate is to end up entombed
in a forgotten ruin.  I'm beginning to hate this place."  She glanced around
furtively.  "It... I don't feel comfortable here."

     Davin considered this, then nodded once.  "I know what you mean.  Still,
sooner we get out of here, sooner we can get to Yahl Russa.  And the sooner
we can find out about magic... and the Church."

  <...and in the darkness, two red slits opened....>

     Marcine blinked at that.  "Find out more... about the Church?  What do
you mean?"

     Davin sat down, across from her.  "You saw the murals.  There's history
here.  The creation of the Tri-fan.  Or at least, the *image* of it.  In
addition, a fourth crystal, something that even the other murals in there
don't seem to hint at.  And on top of all that, for all their no magic laws,
their Three Gods don't seem to have any problems breaking them."

     Her expression turned to shocked outrage.  "No!  That's wrong!  They
weren't... they weren't Gods... I mean... it's not... not magic!  It can't
be!"

     Davin sighed.  "I grew up under the Church as well, Marcine.  But in
the Academy, I learnt to evaluate everything presented to me.  And I don't
think those mural figures were running on steam.  Maybe that friend of mine
in Yahl Russa knows something about it."

     Marcine sagged slightly, looking back down at her feet.  "Magic isn't
evil.  It has nothing to do with the Church."

  <...metal scraped against metal, as pebbles fell, dislodged from
    centuries of rest....>

     Davin nodded agreement.  "I know--" he started, before freezing, holding
up a hand to command silence.  "Wait.  Did you hear that?"

     The ground to the right of them exploded upwards, as *something*
emerged.  Davin was on his feet running within seconds, grabbing Marcine and
almost stumbling in the confusion, pulling her behind a still-standing pillar
as debris rained down.  Once the dust had settled, he glanced around his
cover, intent on discovering what the threat was.

     It was easily twice their size, piercing Davin with the glare of its two
red slits of light, the only feature visible of its face.  It hefted a huge
warhammer, held with the ease of a practiced warrior.  Davin examined the
intruder as carefully as he dared... but... something was wrong about this
adversary.  And then, he realised.  "Living armour," he said, half in awe.

     It was similar to a GOLeM, but the gaps in the armour hinted at magic.
There was no skeletal base to it, no mechanical whirring, no outlet for steam
from an engine.  It moved too easily for something its size.  The movements
were too human-like.

     And it occurred to him... why would the Church use a magical construct
to guard this place?

     Thought turned to motion as the warhammer came down, crushing the
pillar.  Davin was away, sword drawn, Marcine dragged behind him.  "Dammit,"
he cursed.  "If we're not careful, that thing could bring the whole roof down
on top of us!"

     "What is it?" Marcine asked hurriedly, watching with horror as the
warhammer was slowly removed, and the armour returned to an offensive stance.

     "Living armour.  You know how those GOLeM things work?  These things are
almost exactly the same, except powered by magic.  *Very* similar to how
Light Globes are created, for instance... except this level is beyond simple
elementalism."

     The time for explanation was cut short as the warhammer came down again,
narrowly missing them both, but the shockwave separating them easily.
Marcine went tumbling back into a corner, while Davin scrambled back to his
feet.  Taking advantage of the armour's brief inability to defend itself, he
rushed forward, leaping and slashing in a single technique.

     Blade grated against plate, slipping into a seam and continuing, meeting
no resistance.  Davin landed, turning to stare wide-eyed at the monster.
*...There's nothing inside... no flesh to cut, just pure steel.  It doesn't
wear armour to protect anything... it *is* armour....*  He grimaced slightly.
This was going to take more than swordsmanship.

     As the armour brought its weapon up, ready to strike once more, he
gestured to Marcine to hold back.  The spirits here were old, ancient even,
but even now they would still allow themselves to do his bidding....

          "Powers of earth and darkness, consume what time has wrought....
                 Cave In!"

     Leaping back as the geomancy took effect, he shielded himself as best he
could as large chunks of the ceiling collapsed instantly, burying the
monstrosity under tons of rubble.

     Breathing a sigh of relief, he turned to Marcine, who was just now
getting to her feet.  "That aught to hold it for a little while.  Come on,
let's--"

     He got no further as the rubble his elementalism had just called down
was scattered to the corners of the room.  He got his arms up just in time to
protect himself, as a stray piece of shrapnel opened a bloody gash in his
forearm.  The living armour emerged from the debris, gazing at them both.
And then, it began to speak, its voice booming around the chamber.

     "Think you that your mere cantrips can bring me low?  I *embody* Earth!
Allow me to show those of the Church, *True* Magik!"  Warning bells went off
in Davin's head as it raised the warhammer high above its visored helm, where
the weapon began to glow with a vibrant green light.  He barely had time to
shout a warning to Marcine before it brought the hammer down, shouting a
single word as it did so:
                "MONOLITH!"

     Davin snapped his head downwards, staring at the ground he still hovered
a few inches above.  It had begun to shake violently, but surely the Float
spell would protect him from this kind of magic, wouldn't it?

     His thoughts were answered as a sharp spear of stone shot from the
ground, nearly impaling him on it.  As it was, the jagged spike struck his
sword hand, and the blade clattered to the floor as he staggered back,
clenching his fist.

     Another glance back at Marcine allowed him to breathe easier.  Even
though she was still struggling to regain her senses and her footing, her
position seemed to have protected her from the brunt of the attacks.
Examining the armour once more, it occurred to him that not even with
geomancy could he win this battle alone.  He needed magic.  And, he had an
idea of how to use it.

     "Marcine?"  He waited for her to look up in his direction before
continuing.  "Get one of your lightning attacks ready....  I have an idea.
Attack when I give the signal."  He didn't wait for her to respond, as out of
the corner of his eye, he could see the living armour gearing up for another
swing.  Instead, he dashed forward, towards his discarded blade.

     Seeing this, the enemy smashed the hammer down once again, intoning a
different spell this time....
                "EARTH WAVE!"

     As the hammer struck, the ground... rippled.  Waves of stone rushed
towards Davin as he ran, trying to reach his sword.

     Thinking quickly, he leapt up, almost moving vertically up the first
wave.  However, the active Float spell caused him to misjudge his landing,
and he stumbled directly into the path of the second wave.

     'Liquid' earth passed under and over him, tearing at his clothes and
skin.  Marcine's cry sounded much louder, all around him, yet he was in no
state to notice.  He held his mouth shut, but it was no use... he could
literally taste the gravel, and it was suffocating, dragging him down.  In
desperation, he rolled into the path of the wave, but his movements were
lethargic, as if he were in treacle, and--

     The wave passed over him and died, as the magic dissipated.  Exhausted
and covered in bruises, Davin slammed his hand down on the hilt of his
family's blade, getting steadily to his feet.  "And now," he notified the
armour, which seemed to be watching him with interest, "it's my turn."  And
with that, he ran forward again, and leapt towards the being's chest, blade
thrust forward.

     It sank deep, punching through the metal plate with an unnatural ease.
But the living armour seemed merely amused by this.  Davin turned, hanging
by the hilt of the weapon, screaming at the shell-shocked Marcine.  "Now!
Call your lightning now!"

     Marcine didn't understand.  Davin would get hit as well!  "But, but
you're...?!"

     "Aim for the sword!  For the love of the Three Gods, do it now, Marcine
Cavanaugh!"  As Marcine continued to hesitate, the armour brought a mailed
gauntlet down upon the vulnerable young man, knocking him away.

     "DAVIN!!" Marcine shouted.  To her relief, Davin got slowly back up from
where he had been thrown, but it was clear that he wouldn't last much longer
without aid.  That was enough motivation for the reluctant mage.  She turned
and faced the metal giant, hints of anger showing in her expression.  And
then she brought her hands up, and directed them at Davin's blade, chanting
the all too familiar spell....

          "Untamed ferocity, drawn from the limitless skies above....
                 DiBolt!"

     From nowhere, from above, the thick shaft of electricity split the air,
vanishing into the man-made lightning conductor.  And for a brief split
second, that was it.  And then, it was as if the ground had exploded from
under it.

     The armour spasmed wildly, stray arcs of lightning leaping from it to
the adjoinging walls and rubble.  Nothing it had was safe from the azure
energy, which sparked and crackled across every surface of the giant, before
slowly fading away, leaving just the aura of static.

     Electricity continued to arc up and down the armour, and it sank to its
knees, warhammer clattering heavily to the floor.  Flakes of metal started
falling away, as the magic that held the armour together slowly began to
weaken.

     "M--MAGIK?!" it cried, in its deep booming voice.  It turned its head
slightly, spearing the terrified Marcine with its ruby gaze.

     At first, Marcine thought it was choking.  A few seconds later, she
understood, as the armour began to laugh uproarously.  A croak ended it
almost as soon as it started though, and she looked at the magical construct
in alarm.

     Fading slowly yet inexorably away, the armour shook its head.  "The
irony of this is not lost on one such as I.  An enemy of the Church, defeated
by those of True Magik.  I did not think that the Art was still taught."

     Marcine stammered, unable to speak.  Davin, wiping his mouth on his
sleeve, coughed slightly, before speaking up instead.  "It isn't.  The Church
still bans all magic."

     "PAH!" came the voice once more.  "Still clinging to their vain belief.
They would not help us when we sought them out, and their actions proved them
no better than that fool we once served."  It then gazed long and hard at the
elementalist.  "Tell me one thing before I move on.  Did we succeed?"

     Davin narrowed his eyes.  "Succeed?  Succeed at what?"

     The armour, as much as it could do so, sighed.  "I assume then that we
did not.  They are still out there though.  I have not felt them for decades,
but I have no doubt.  But soon, we will be only twelve."

     Davin saw that movement was getting difficult for the living armour, as
more and more steel flaked away into ashes.  "Tell me... what were you trying
to do?"

     The gaze was directed back at Davin, and he got the vague impression
that it was smiling.  "Remember me.  My name is Percival, and I answer only
to Gilgamesh.  And one day... we will free the Three Gods."

     Davin stepped forward, intent on another question, yet recoiled as the
armour began to erupt with light.  Shielding his eyes, he could only stand
there as the Knight Percival vanished from reality, released at long last.

     Marcine walked slowly over to the place where Percival had last been,
and lightly fingered the ash; all that remained of him.  She started in
surprise as Davin's hand landed on her shoulder, squeezing in shared
sympathy.  "Let's go," he said quietly.

     "But...?" she replied, confused by the turn of events.

     Davin indicated the once steadfast doors.  "See that?  That's daylight.
We squeeze through that crack, and we're back in the open.  But we'd better
do it soon... this place isn't safe."  He reached down and pulled the almost
glowing sword out from the ash, careful not to touch the blade itself,
before carefully reattaching it to the sash at his waist.

     Marcine sighed and nodded slowly in agreement.  She looked back at the
ashes, letting out a depressed sigh... when an object half hidden in the
remains of the armour caught her eye.  She removed it carefully from the
pile, glancing it over.  It was a smooth yet irregular palm-sized piece of
amber, and etched upon it... no, *within* it, was a single character.  The
Manakyr symbol for Earth.  Perhaps it had been Percival's 'heart'?  She
secreted it into one of her shoulder pack; there would be time to think on it
later.

     And as Davin and Marcine tasted sunlight once more, they stopped and
listened as the final crashes closed off the ruins, sealing in its secrets
once more.

                         -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
 
     They stood there in silence for a few seconds, before someone behind
them cleared their throat.  "Ahem!  Got any treasure for me?"

     Davin spun around in surprise.  "Syeira?!  What are you doing here?!"

     Any further questions were cut off slightly as he was tackled by a large
bundle of energy.  "Big brother!  You're alright!"  That lasted about as long
as it took Mika to notice the various bruises and cuts Davin had picked up.
"Davin, you're hurt!  Big brother!" she scolded, before starting to get out
her healing aides.

     Marcine shook her head, then looked up at Syeira.  "How'd you know we'd
be here?" she asked.

     Syeira waved her hand in a sign of dismissal.  "Oh, it was nothing,
really.  I mean, I've been around, and I knew there were some ruins around
here.  Never actually been inside them, but figures you two would fall into
them.  So... what'd you get me?"

     Davin glanced up from where Mika was now tending his wounds.  "Huh?  Oh,
nothing.  We were concentrating on getting out, not treasure hunting.  Ah, I
see you brought the chocobos... that's good."

     Syeira chuckled slightly.  "Yeah, well it would look kinda funny to have
two of us to a chocobo; I don't think they'd like it much.  Anyway... about
that treas--"

     "All set!" interrupted Mika.  She got to her feet, having applied enough
first aid to satisfy her.  "How'd you get all those bruises anyway?"

     "Oh," Davin replied, "just this big knight we found in there.  Nothing
to worry about; I'll tell you all about it later."

     "Y'know... that big knight you mentioned was probably guarding some nice
hidden treasure...."

     "Have we lost much time, Davin?" Marcine asked, anxious to be away.

     "No, not really.  We've been heading in the right direction actually,
so we should be roughly on schedule."

     "HEY!"

     Everyone, including the chocobos, turned and stared at Syeira.  The
thief stamped her foot, patience waning.  "Look, did you get any lost
treasure or not?!" she cried.

     Davin shook his head.  "None whatsoever."

     Syeira closed her eyes, a weird smile appearing on her face.  "Okay...
so if *you* didn't get any treasure... and since you've gone and defeated
whatever was guarding the place... I suppose you won't mind if I do a little
search for myself, huh?"

     "But, Syeira," chimed Mika, "didn't you see all the rock that fell
across the entrance?  It's all blocked in now!"

     A vein throbbed on Syeira's forehead.  "Okay... that's fine... we'll
just get a pickaxe and then...."

     "I'm guessing the entire foyer collapsed," Davin said.  "That's probably
about forty to fifty feet worth of rock to get through; it'd take a couple of
days to dig through that."

     They started to mount the chocobos, getting ready to depart.  Davin
squeezed Syeira's shoulder as he passed.  "Not to worry... we'll find some
treasure in the next set of ancient ruins we happen to find, okay?"

     Syeira was silent, standing rock still.

     "Hey, Syeira... are you alright?" asked Davin, slightly worried.

     Syeira was taking deep breaths.  "You... went into an ancient ruin...
one I've never had a chance to get into... and you didn't get any treasure...
and now the entrance is blocked in by rock... and I can't get in... and....
NO!  I must get the treasure!  I want it I want it I want it I want it--hey,
lemme go!  No, we can't leave yet... there's still treasure to be found...
I don't wanna go!  Mika, help meeeee!"

     Mika, already mounted, laughed.  "Ha ha ha, Syeira's a crybaby!"

     And so, the argument went on....

                         -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

     That evening, in a closed, locked room in a general store of Voden....

     "Frau Lassenkirche?"

     "Wherefore hast thou departed to, Frau Lassenkirche?  It is most
inconvenient that the great Beastmaster Stine be detained for much longer
from his divine quest in this manner."

     The sounds of struggling could be heard from behind the locked door.

     "Ahah!  It is a challenge thou hast set before me!  I understand
clearly now, noble Lassenkirche.  But I, Beastmaster Stine, shalt prevail!"

     There was a distinct snap, as of rope breaking, followed by a loud rip,
like cloth tearing.  Then, for a while, there was silence.  And then,
finally, the same voice, slightly subdued now, spoke once more.

     "Beastmaster Stine shalt... regret this."



                         -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Author's Notes:
     Lots and lots of credit must go to my prereaders, who helped me refine
this over and over.  Even with the Glossary out in front of me, I *still*
made mistakes, and *still* had to go back and get research from almost every
single FFL chapter that's up there.

     Prereader roll call!  Illyria!  The Eternal Lost Lurker!  Signus
Megido!  Kate Malloy!  And last but not least: Brian Stricklin!  If there's
something wrong with my chapter, don't blame them; it's all *my* fault.

     With any luck, the FFL Glossary should also be updated with all
information up to and including stuff in this chapter.  I've got this feeling
that I forgot to put a few spell appearances and unresolved plot points in
there, but I think I got the majority of them and all the new ones.  Or at
least, I hope I did.

     In any case, I hope you enjoyed my part, and I hope I've made you want
to continue reading.  And with that, I leave the helm in your hands, Kate.

     Thanks.
                                         Terence Fergusson
                                      -- Student of Advanced Murphodynamics