Cloudy recollection, from a time long ago...

     Two mages, locked in combat.  Teacher and student, both
fighting for something more than mere power.  Neither gave up
an inch, and the city around them suffered from every spell
that failed to hit its mark.

     Finally the teacher weakened the student, and spoke words
of peace as he recovered.  An unwise decision; he used the
opportunity to unleash the greatest weapon in his arsenal.  As
he faded from sight, the skies parted and a great dragon
descended from above, wings outspread.  Awestruck, the teacher
tried to cast a spell that would protect her from the mighty
creature's power...

     She looked so surprised, there at the end.

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

                   FINAL FANTASY LEGACY
                   Knights of the Round

      Begun (and herein continued) by Brian Stricklin

          Chapter 15: Crossroads and Reflections

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

     The Starsilver Mines, normally a beehive of activity,
were curiously empty and quiet.   Digging equipment lay
unused, workers lounged around idle, and even the carts for
toting ore to the nearby foundries remained unhitched.  There
was a tense air about the place - an indication that people
were waiting for what would happen next, and that they didn't
expect it to be pleasant.

     Totally unnoticed by the miners, three pairs of eyes
watched them from a rocky outcropping not too far away.

     "I wonder why they're not working?"

     "Beats me.  When I went down there, they were all just
standing around.  Not even talking much."

     "Well, maybe when Syeira gets back, she'll have some
answers."

     "You don't think it's got anything to do with us, do
you?"

     "I don't see how.  They wouldn't shut down a mine on our
account, especially since not even *we* knew we were coming
here.  Right, Davin?"

     "Hmm?  Uh, yeah, sure."

     The elementalist's two companions turned to look at him. 
"You okay, big brother?"

     He sighed.  "Yeah, Mika.  I'm fine.  I'm just... tired,
that's all.  Don't worry - I'll be okay."

     Marcine frowned slightly to herself.  Davin hadn't been
himself since they'd left Yahl Russa, and the closer they got
to the Mines, the worse he seemed to get.  So far he'd brushed
off any concerns that his... experience in the Library had
affected him, but she couldn't help but worry.

     She opened her mouth to ask - for about the twentieth
time - if Davin was *really* all right, when a figure emerged
from the surrounding underbrush.  If not for the fact that she
was wearing a low-cut, tight-fitting dress and just the right
amount of makeup, someone might have mistaken her for Syeira.

     "Turn around, Davin," she ordered, hands moving to the
lacings of her clothes.  "I'm getting out of this thing." 
Without a word of complaint, he returned his gaze to the
Mines.

     Marcine had to admit that the thief looked good, even
with just a little preparation.  "Why are you so eager to get
changed?  I'm surprised that you don't dress like this more
often."

     Syeira grinned briefly.  "Thanks, but this is way too
confining for my line of work.  I only keep it around for
disguise purposes."  She finished removing the dress and
folded it carefully.  "But I just had to wade through a bunch
of whistles and macho comments - the sooner I get back into
honest clothes, the better."

     "Weren't you nervous about getting caught?" Mika asked. 
"There were lots of guards down there."

     "Yeah, but they were all just local thugs, not Guardsmen
or anything.  Even if they were, they probably wouldn't have
recognized me, especially since they won't have a good
description of me - unlike you three."  After stowing the
dress away, she began to pull on her usual clothes.  "Besides,
with that dress I had on, *nobody* was looking at my face."

     Marcine blushed slightly and giggled; Mika just looked
blank.  "I don't get it."

     "Skip it.  Anyway, I went to one of the privately owned
mining teams, saying I represented a firm in Tienne who wanted
to invest."  She snickered.   "Couldn't fall over themselves
fast enough to help me.  What they *wouldn't* do, though, is
give me a tour of the mines."

     "Too busy?"

     "Do they look busy to you?  No, they said that a pocket
of natural gas had been uncovered, and they had to wait for it
to disperse before anyone could go in."  Syeira pulled on her
boots, then looked at Mika.  "Okay, kid.  Time to see what you
noticed."

     "Uh, all right."  The young alchemist thought for a
moment.   "Well, I walked along the outer fence and had a look
at all the mine entrances I could find.  They're all set up
pretty much the same way:  they're barricaded, with armed
guards."

     "How many?"

     "Um... usually about three per entrance, though a couple
of the bigger ones had four or five."

     Syeira nodded.  "Yeah, that's what I saw, too.  Now, I
wouldn't think that's standard procedure for gas leaks, would
you?"

     Marcine considered this.  "So... they really want to keep
people out of the mines?"

     "Good guess, except for one thing.  I noticed that the
guards were on the *outside* of the barricades - right, Mika?" 
She nodded.  "And armed soldiers on one side of a firm
barricade means that they're expecting an attack from the
*other* side."

     Mika frowned.  "So, there's something loose in there?"

     "Looks that way."

     Marcine glanced at Davin, who was still focused on the
mines.  "Maybe we shouldn't go in there after all."

     Syeira shook her head.  "We don't have much choice.  We
can't go back to the city anytime soon - the Guards'll have
our descriptions after what happened in the Library, and
they'll probably be able to match us with the 'heretics' that
are running around.  Besides," she added, pointing at the
amber talisman Marcine now wore around her neck, "the more we
find out about *that*, the better."

     "I suppose so.  In that case... how do we get in there?"

     "Good question."

     "Leave it to me," Mika announced, pulling various
alchemical tools from her pockets.  "I've got just the
thing..."

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

     Jil's prediction had proved all too accurate - the waters
around them had become more and more active as the Lucky Star
approached the Channel.  Now, two days since it left port, the
crew and passengers almost came to miss the occasional
shahagin scouting mission; they'd been replaced by things much
worse.

     The most recent evidence of this lay cooling on the deck
of the boat, a thick green fluid oozing from its wounds.  With
a scowl of disgust, Kyle pushed the thing into the water.  "By
the Gods, what was that thing?"

     "Sea ghast," the Captain explained simply as she cleaned
off her weapons.  "Nasty creatures.  Just be glad that there
were only one of the vermin - I've heard tell of ships sinking
with all hands aboard after meeting a group o' them.  And
don't be so quick ta send the bodies overboard, me boy - there
were a couple of me shuriken still deep in its grisly hide."

     "Oh.  Sorry."

     She shrugged.  "No need ta worry.  I'll just add it to
yer bill."

     The dragoon sighed; this trip was getting more expensive
by the day.  

     Cheney approached them, the short blade at his waist
still sheathed.  Jil was still having trouble figuring out the
tracker; he never seemed to fight and never seemed to be in
trouble.  While this would have marked him as a coward, there
were sufficient unusual circumstances - like the shahagin
warrior they'd found after Cheney's watch, its neck neatly
snapped - that the captain was willing to give him the benefit
of the doubt... for now.

     He nodded to her politely.  "How much longer until we get
to the Channel?"

     "We be almost there now," Jil assured him.  "Once we're
in, it'll be a straight drive through - from there, 'twill be
just a day's voyage to Yahl Russa."

     Kyle nodded, then looked up at the darkening sky. 
"Shouldn't we anchor for the night, then?  It's getting late."

     The captain laughed.  "This close to the Channel?  Are ye
daft?  Har, come th' mornin', we'd all wake up dead.  No, th'
only way to get through the Channel is as fast as we can, me
boy.  And if we're lucky, we'll reach th' other end in one
piece and with all hands safe and sound."

     "No offense, but I really hope you know what you're
doing," he replied, sheathing his sword once the last of the
ooze was cleaned from it.  "As you said when I hired you, the
currents in the Channel are dangerous."

     "Aye... but trust ye in the Lucky Star.  There's not a
ship afloat like her, and that not be just a captain's pride,
mark you."

     Kyle raised an eyebrow.  "Another trick up your sleeve,
Captain?"

     Jil just grinned at him, a grin that faded slightly as
she looked past him.  He turned around and, following her
gaze, saw an extremely uninviting pair of cliffs on either
side of a dark, churning strait, which was far too narrow for
the dragoon's peace of mind.  He couldn't help noticing the
shattered planks and other fragments of unlucky ships that
littered the entrance to the canal.

     "There she be," Captain Fallensand said quietly behind
him.  "The Northern Channel."  He was somehow unable to look
away from the foreboding sight, but he heard her take a deep
breath.  "May the Gods have mercy upon our souls."

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

     A small but effective sleep-gas grenade had taken care of
the guards at one of the mine entrances, allowing the group to
slip into the shaft beyond uncontested.  Before long, they
were deep within the Starsilver mines, cautiously venturing
into the inky shadows.

     Though there was ample light in the tunnels, provided by
the occasional lantern, it quickly became obvious that the
mines were far more complex and extensive than they'd
realized.  There was more to the caves than had been carved
out by human hand - wooden props had been installed in the
tunnels already mined out, but as the companions travelled
deeper into the mines, the rock around them seemed more and
more to be in a natural state.  Every so often, a glimmering
band of minerals in the tunnel wall could be seen; starsilver
in its raw form.

     "So, what exactly are we looking for here?" Mika asked. 
"I mean, this place is huge - we could be down here for ages."

     Syeira shrugged.  "I dunno.  Something with the Tri-fan
or that Earth rune on it, I guess.  There has to be *some*
reason this was marked out on that map."

     The young girl carefully stepped over a loose pile of
stones.  "But wouldn't the miners have found something by
now?"

     "As big as this place is?  I doubt it.  The mine's only
been open for thirty years or so, and they've barely scratched
the starsilver deposits near the surface.  They probably won't
have bothered with the deeper levels."

     "Okay, Miss Know-it-all: why wasn't the mine used until
just recently?  It's right next to the city, after all - they
had to have known about it."

     The thief blinked.  "Actually... that's a good question. 
Davin?  This is your area of expertise."

     "Huh?"  He looked up, as if distracted from his
concentration, and replayed the last few lines of conversation
in his head.  "Oh... well, remember that starsilver is just
about indestructible.  That makes it pretty hard to mine, and
impossible to use when you do.  For a long time it was figured
to be basically worthless, and this mine was ignored."  Keep
talking, he told himself - anything was better than thinking
about being down here...  "It wasn't until someone discovered
that elementalists could help with the mining process, and
together with alchemists could forge the metal, that
starsilver actually became a valuable commodity."

     "...I knew that," Syeira announced, just for the look of
the thing.

     "Yeah, right."  Mika stopped and peered at a particularly
iridescent vein of ore.  "Hey, big brother?"

     "Hmm?"

     "Could you get me some starsilver?"

     "Uh..."

     "C'mon, pleeeease?  You still owe me some presents from
back in Tienne, remember?"

     Davin, for once, was at a loss for words.  "Mika, I don't
think we have time for that."  Which wasn't really the
reason...

     She put her hands on her hips.  "How long could it take? 
And it's not like anyone's going to find us all the way down
here."

     "He's right, Mika," Marcine interjected.  "Leave him
alone - we've still got a lot of ground to cover."

     "Hmph!  Fine, whatever."

     As Mika stomped off ahead of the group, Marcine cast
another worried glance at Davin.  He just wasn't himself, and
she could hazard a guess as to why.  She hoped they could get
this over with quickly - there was no telling what would
happen if they stayed down in the tunnels too long...

     "Big brother!"  They both looked up, to see the young
alchemist peering into the darkness.  "Over here!"

     Davin sighed.  "Mika, I told you..."

     She rolled her eyes theatrically.  "Not *that*.  Look!" 
She gestured.  "I didn't know that starsilver came in
different colors.  This one's red!"

     Indeed, there was a line of small red dots gently
wavering in the shadows.  The odd thing about them was that
they seemed to come in pairs.  In fact...

     His heart suddenly racing, Davin carefully drew his
sword.  "Mika... move away from there... slowly."

     She blinked, then turned to look at the lights again...
and an evil hiss rose from the darkness.  With a small shriek
of surprise, she ignored Davin's warning and quickly scrambled
back to his side.  "Big brother, what *are* they?!"

     "I don't know," he told her, watching cautiously as the
hiss was answered by another, then several more.  "But at a
guess, I think we just found out why the entrances were
barricaded..."

     "Let's get a better look, then."  Before anyone could
stop her, Syeira took a lantern from a nearby post and tossed
it into the shadows.

     For a moment, it seemed like the lamp, still intact, was
lying in a pool of blackness.  Then the red dots skittered
aside, and it became clear that this was because the creatures
were *all* black - living shadows, with eyes that gleamed. 
The rat-like beasts, each a foot long, inspected the lamp
briefly before returning their attention to the four
companions.

     Syeira gripped her knives tightly.  "What the hell are
those things?"

     "I think we've been over this," Davin said dryly. 
"Marcine, can you take care of them?"

     "I'll try."  She raised her hands and began the by now
familiar chanting, then spread them before her.  "Dibolt!" 
The powerful electric bolt jumped into the middle of the
swarm, quickly arcing from one to the next...

     ...but when the last sparks faded, the shadowy creatures
seemed to be totally unaffected by the spell.  No, that was
wrong - now they seemed much, much angrier.

     Marcine was flustered.  "What?  I did it right, I know I
did!"

     But there was no time for questions.  The creatures
leapt.

     The next few minutes were full of confusion and panic. 
Though the rats were rather less resistant to conventional
weapon, there were several dozen of them, and the companions
were slowly penned in, forced to stand back to back against
the onslaught.  Davin and Syeira did their best to keep the
monsters at bay, but Marcine could only slap and kick
ineffectually at those that came too close, and Mika wasn't
even able to reach into her supply of ingredients.

     Syeira sliced open one of the creatures - it screeched
horribly and dissolved, but a moment later another one took
its place.  "Davin, I think now would be a good time to use
some of your fancy techniques.  If magic won't hurt 'em..."

     He ignored her, and cut down another rat that had gotten
too close.

     "Davin, are you listening to me?"

     "Just keep fighting!  We'll get through this!"

     She gritted her teeth.  "What's *wrong* with you? 
There's too many of them - you've got to-"

     Mika shrieked.  "Big brother!  It's got me!"

     "Mika!"  He took a deep breath.  He had to try, one last
time.  With a fierce slash, he freed some space around him and
knelt down to touch the tunnel floor.  Reaching out with his
mind, he sought out the earth spirits of the mines, seeking
their help.  They were quite willing to help, and moved closer
to infuse him with...

     ...their cold, dark, enclosed energy, gathered from years
upon years of living within solid rock, no light, no sound,
all alone...

     ...and he gasped, breaking the contact in a panic.  "I...
I can't..." he gasped.  *Mika... I'm so sorry...*

     There was a sudden sound of breaking glass, and a fiery
red light filled the tunnel.  The swarm screeched in unison,
backing away from the flame, and two more spheres flew from
the darkness, blazing to life as they shattered against the
floor.  The fires were accompanied by a pungent, unpleasant
odor that the rats seemed to take quite an exception to - they
streaked back into the darkness, leaving the companions alone.

     Davin quickly got to his feet and rushed over to Mika. 
"Are you okay?"

     She checked herself.  "Yeah, I think so, big brother. 
Just chewed on my shirt a little.  But... who saved us?"

     Her question was answered a moment later, when a trio of
figures stepped out of the shadows.  Each wore sturdy-looking
chainmail armor, thick helmets, and boasted rather long and
impressive beards.

     They were also each about three feet tall.

     "Dwarves!" Syeira gasped.  "They've got to be!  But
nobody's seen them for hundreds of years!"

     "Until now," Mika pointed out, then raised her voice. 
"Uh... thanks.  Thank you for saving us.  Uh...  I hope we're
not trespassing on your territory or... anything..."

     Her sentence trailed off as she realized that the dwarves
weren't paying her any attention.  In fact, all three were
looking at a rather flustered Marcine... and, as far as could
be determined behind their beards, they weren't at all happy.
     
                 -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

     "Laliho!"

     It was a peculiar marching chant, but one that the
companions had learned to obey since the dwarves had taken
them prisoner.  They hadn't been in any shape to resist after
the rat-creatures had attacked, and as they were led through
numerous winding passageways, they were met by several other
dwarves, all of whom had been equally displeased to see
Marcine.

     Now they were being led at axepoint (more or less)
through what could only be called a dwarf village.  It wasn't
at all big, especially to those used to Tienne, but it was
remarkably well-maintained.  All work on the street stopped as
the prisoners were brought through, and even a few dwarf women
(who looked exactly like the men, including beards, except
that their armor was decidedly pink) could be seen, watching
the parade.

     Syeira eyed them suspiciously.  "Davin?"

     "Mmm?"

     "I think I should point out that if any of those women
call your name and act all friendly toward you, you'll have a
bunch of explaining to do."

     "Mmm."

     Annoyed, the thief opened her mouth to snap at him...
then stopped as Marcine laid a hand on her shoulder and shook
her head.  With a surprised blink, Syeira looked at Davin
again, and for the first time really noticed how distracted
and pale the elementalist was.  Almost as if he was sick.

     She looked back at Marcine.  "Rat bite?" she mouthed
silently.

     The blue-clad mage shook her head.  Before she could
respond in kind, though, they were brought to their
destination - a small but solid building, looking like a
terribly unused but nevertheless sturdy jail.

     A few moments later found the companions locked in a
dusty cell.  Without a word, Davin collapsed on the cell's
only cot - Marcine stood close to him, worried but unsure what
to do.  Meanwhile, Mika and Syeira took the opportunity to
pound the bars and yell to be let out, or at least talk to
someone.

     They didn't have long to wait.  Before long, a
white-bearded dwarf with particularly impressive armor
arrived, flanked by two others.  He looked over the prisoners
for a moment, then nodded pleasantly.  "Good evenin'.  I be
Watts 
Stonebreaker, and I be the leader o' this village."

     "Good!" Syeira snapped.  "Then you can let us *out* of
here!"

     The interesting thing about the dwarves, Marcine said
later, was the fact that *nothing* seemed to faze them.  The
rude tone of Syeira's demand was completely ignored by Watts,
who pulled a pipe from a pouch at his belt.  "I'd like to, I'd
like to, but there be a wee problem with that, seein' as how
ye're under arrest for murder and all."

     "Murder?!"

     "Aye."

     "We didn't kill anyone!" Mika protested.  "We'd never
even seen any dwarves until you guys saved us!"

     Watts lit the pipe and took a few puffs.  "Nae, I know ye
didn't kill any o' me friends."

     "Then what the heck are you talking about?"

     The dwarf lifted his head and nodded at Marcine.  "Come
here, lass."  She uncertainly complied, and at his gesture
knelt down a bit - he removed the pipe, and tapped the amber
talisman at her neck with the mouthpiece.  "Ye've met
Percival, I see."

     "Uh, who?"  Mika scratched her head theatrically.  "Gee,
I think there's been a mistake.  We got that at a second-hand
store.  Apparently this guy Stine pawned it, and-"

     "That's enough, Mika."  Marcine sighed, and fingered the
talisman.  "Yes, I'm afraid I did meet Percival.  I never
meant for it to... end up this way, but he attacked us... me,
and I had to defend myself."

     Watts took a thoughful puff on his pipe.  "Could be,
could be.  Percival always was a bit quick on the attack, or
so I've heard."

     "But the others had nothing to do with it!  Please, let
them go.  I... I'll take whatever punishment you require."

     Mika gasped.  "Marcine!"

     "Forget it!" Syeira snapped.  "We're not leaving you
here."

     "It's for the best," the mage insisted.  "You have to-"

     A loud clearing of the throat stopped the conversation,
and they turned to look at Watts.  "Yer loyalty to each other
does ye credit, but it not be that simple."  He considered for
a moment.  "'Tis curious, though - we had ye pegged for
followers o' the Church, until ye used magic on the gloom
rats.  That be what decided us to help ye."

     "No, we're not members of the Church."  Marcine looked
down.  "...not anymore."

     "Aye?  Then yer some of Darovan's Manakyr?"  A glint in
the dwarf's eye made it clear that this would be worse than
following the Church.

     Marcine looked confused.  "I don't... *think* so.  I know
who Darovan is, but..."

     Another thoughtful puff of light blue smoke arose. 
"Well, ye sound geniune to me," he admitted, "but sincerity
don't change what ye've done."

     "There's got to be something we can do to make things
right," Syeira protested.

     One of the other dwarves muttered something, and before
long the three were having a discussion in an unknown
language, occasionally glancing at their captives.

     Syeira sidled closer to Marcine.  "Hey," she whispered,
"why don't we just blast our way out of this?"

     She shook her head.  "They haven't done anything wrong -
we can't hurt them just to save ourselves."

     The thief grimaced.  "That would kinda make the
'magic-is-evil' point, wouldn't it?  Okay, I guess you're
right."

     Finally the conversation ended, and Watts stepped forward
again.  "As it happens," he began, "we could use one o' ye to
assist in a wee little problem.  'Twill be a bit dangerous,
but if ye succeed, ye all may go free."

     Marcine hesitated, then nodded.  "All right.  I'll do
it."

     "Nae, not you."  He pointed with one stubby finger.  "Th'
bairn."

     Mika blinked, then looked around.  "What?  Me?"

     "Aye."

     "I should be the one you take," Marcine protested.  "I'm
the one who-"

     "Aye, and that's why I cannae let you leave here.  Ye may
try to escape."  He nodded at Davin, still curled up on the
cot.  "Yer friend seems nae up to much right now, and as for
the other lass... well, no offense, but ye seem more likely to
escape than *she* is."

     Syeira crossed her arms.  "What, doesn't *anyone* trust
me anymore?"

     "The young one, though, calls him 'brother'.  That means
she's nae likely to leave him behind.  Besides," Watts
continued, "she be the only one that can fit through some of
our passages."

     "Okay, okay," Mika groused.  "I'll do what I can."

     "Good.  Obren here will take ye to it.  And don't worry -
yer friends will be safe and comfortable until ye get back."

     "That's good to know."

     "Unless ye take too long," he admitted.  "I cannae make
any promises in that case."

     "Gee, thanks.  I feel *so* much more at ease now."

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

     The sun was no longer visible, having long since been
blocked out by the bends and turns of the Channel, but Kyle
judged that it was well into sunset.  And, amazingly, they
weren't dead yet.

     One reason for this - at least, as far as the navigation
difficulties went - was the Lucky Star herself.  Before the
ship had entered the Channel, its captain commanded her crew
with crisp, direct orders; they struck the sails, stowing them
carefully below-decks... then, to Kyle and Cheney's great
surprise, the Star had gone through an amazing transformation.

     Kyle had watched in astonishment as concealed doors
opened along the aft side of the ship and a large paddlewheel
was heaved into place.  "Steam powered?"

     "Aye, that she is," Jil had responded proudly.  "'Tis no
good for the open seas, o'course, but between the wheel and
the sails, the Lucky Star can go damn near anywhere.  No other
ship can boast of such a claim."

     From that point on, the crew and passengers of the Star
were on full alert.  Nothing was to be taken for granted -
even the slightest ripple out of place could herald a massive
attack.  The captain made it clear that anyone who fell asleep
on watch would be lucky if he lived to regret it.

     All weapons were drawn and tensions were high as the
Lucky Star entered the Channel and carefully made its way
toward the opposite end...

     ...and, against all expectations, nothing happened.

     The currents were certainly treacherous, and Jil had her
hands full keeping the ship from meeting an untimely end on
the rocks, but in contrast to the two previous battle-filled
days, the Channel was eerily silent.  Hours passed, and those
on watch kept their eyes riveted on the water and the cliff
walls surrounding them, but not so much as a stray bird or
unusual fish caught their attention.

     Kyle had never been much good at standing around and
doing nothing; as the skies continued to grow darker, he found
his thoughts wandering toward the subject that had weighed
heavily on his mind for weeks.

     Marcine.

     Even after all this time, he could scarcely believe that
his little sister had... but, of course, she had.  There was
no denying that.  But he could still remember the last time he
saw her, the morning before... the accident.  She'd seemed
normal enough - a bit quiet, though she'd always been a shy
and retiring young girl, so that was nothing knew.  It was
impossible to picture Marcine alongside the heartless villains
he'd encountered in Atlantea.

     He felt his hand clench into a fist.  If ever he needed
proof that magic was evil, he only had to consider how it had
changed a caring, generous young girl with a bright future
into a traitor and an enemy of humanity.

     (And the inner voice he'd tried to ignore since this all
began told him: But you don't really believe that, do you?  If
she were evil, would she have revealed her powers to save a
child?)

     Squelching the voice once again, he leaned on the rail
and stared at the dark water below.  He couldn't let himself
lose his focus - he had to bring Marcine to justice, whatever
the-

     Something small and round bounced off his head; he
turned, hand reaching for his sword... then relaxed.  "Oh. 
It's you."

     Jil's expression was stern.  "Be that th' way ye greet
women in Tienne, me boy?"

     "Sorry.  I had something on my mind."

     "Aye, I can see that.  I called yer name twice, with no
response - if ye ain't gonna pay attention, ye might as well
head below."  She held out a small tray bearing a bowl of stew
and some rolls, one of which was still rolling to a stop on
the deck.  "If ye plan ta stay, on th' other hand, ye might
want some grub."

     He took the tray with a short nod.  "Thanks.  Who's
steering, though?"

     "Me first mate's taken over the helm for now - this be a
tamer section o' the Channel.  Go on, eat."  As he started in
on the simple meal, the captain folded her arms on the rail
next to him.  "If ye don't mind me sayin' so, ye look like a
man with somethin' on his mind.  Care ta talk about it?"

     He paused, then set down his spoon.  "I can't.  It's...
classified."

     "Indeed?"  She glanced at him over her shoulder, then
shrugged.  "Har, 'tis no business of mine, obviously.  Would
likely do ye some good ta get it in the open, though."  

     Silence reigned for a long moment.  "I appreciate the
thought, but... I really can't."

     "Aye?  Well, I understand."

     Kyle ate quietly for a while, then slowly became aware of
a soft muttering.  It would have passed completely unnoticed
amid the background noises of the ship and the Channel, but
Kyle had particularly good hearing, and managed to pick out a
few phrases.  "...heh... just like *he* used to be... always
too proud to confide in me... guess that's why I..."

     "Captain?"

     She started, and turned around quickly.  "Arr, 'tis
nothin', 'tis nothin'. After too many years asea, I be
ramblin' like that from time ta time."

     He shrugged.  "If you say so."  Still, for a moment there
had been something odd about her voice...

     "Ye be quite a fighter there, me boy," she said a bit too
quickly, as if eager to change the subject.  "Better than most
I've seen, and I've crossed blades with quite a few."

     "Thanks.  It's something of a family tradition - all of
the eldest sons are expected to do well in the military."

     There was a sudden muffled snicker, and he looked at her
suspiciously.  "What's so funny?"

     "Har, I not be laughin' at ye, me boy.  Just thinkin'
about me own 'family traditions'.  All the Fallensand boys are
'prenticed to sailors early on."

     Kyle blinked in surprise.  "But you're not... oh.  I get
it."

     The captain nodded.  "Aye.  An only child I be, so me
father decided that a woman sailor be better than none at
all."

     "It must've been rough."

     Jil shrugged.  "At times, aye.  Hated him many a time for
it.  But now I be in charge, and I make the choices - there be
nothin' greater in all the world, me boy.  Nothin' greater."

     She stopped, then stepped a bit closer.  "I could use a
lad like ye on board, Kyle Cavanaugh of Tienne.  Full-time, I
mean.  Would ye be interested?  I can promise ye," she added,
her voice softening, "ye won't regret it."

     He stood up quickly.  "I'm... flattered, Captain, but I
have a duty to the Church."  (Yes, you certainly do.  That's
why you've still got that Egg in your pocket.)  Shut up.

     The captain watched him a moment, a bit disappointed,
then shrugged.  "Ah, well... if ye change yer mind, ye know
how ta find me.  'Tis time for me ta take the helm again,
anyway.  We'll be through the Channel in a few hours - once
we're safe, we'll all be able ta rest easier."

     As she disappeared up the deck, the young dragoon sighed
and resumed his position, idly kicking the fallen roll into
the water.  It sank gradually, totally undisturbed... until it
bounced off something a good distance above the floor of the
channel.

     The Lucky Star chugged onward; a few moments later,
totally unnoticed by those on watch, something large and
incredibly ancient rose from the murky depths, just enough to
watch its progress.  It had been a while since it fed, and
though it didn't possess anything like conventional
intelligence, it was  dimly aware that here was something it
might like.

     Suffice to say, it wasn't interested in soggy bread.

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

     As Obren led her down yet another twisting, narrow
corridor, Mika found that she was starting to get used to the
smell of the gloom rat repellent.  The noxious stuff billowing
from the lantern the dwarf carried reminded her of a few of
her less successful alchemy experiments, but it certainly kept
the nasty little shadow-creatures away, and that was just fine
with her.

     When they'd first entered the mines originally, Mika had
been thrilled with the prospect of spelunking.  Now, though,
she was totally lost, nervous, and rather bored, and old
habits started to come to the fore.

     "Are we there yet?"

     "Nae."

     "Are we there yet?"

     "Nae."

     "Are we there yet?"

     "Nae."

     This had been going on for the past ten minutes, and to
her annoyance, Obren didn't seem to be bothered by the
repetitive questions in the slightest.  She decided to try a
different approach.

     "Okay, so what exactly are we doing down here?  I think I
need to know."

     "'Tis simple, really.  All ye gots to do is keep a great
big soul-eatin' beastie occupied for a little while."

     There was a long silence, punctuated by their footsteps
on the ancient stone floor.

     "Excuse me, could you say that again?  My brain kinda
went blank when you got to the 'soul-eating' part."

     "Aye, that's right.  'Tis just something we do every
twenty years or so.  You keep him busy, while I reinforce the
runes that keep him entrapped.  O'course, if ye fail, he'll
break free, kill me, then go on to wreak havoc across the
world."

     There was another long pause, then Mika grabbed the dwarf
by the beard and pulled him closer.  Or at least tried - what
with extra body mass and heavy armor, he weighed quite a bit
more than the young girl, and she ended up levering herself
closer to *him*.  "Are you *insane*?!  Doesn't this concept
bother you at all?"

     He returned her gaze impassively.  "'Tis me job. 
Nineteen years o' studyin' and practicin' me craft, one year
of an all-or-nothin' risk.  We usually have another dwarf to
go with me, but he's gone to Dwarvenhome to visit his da, and
won't be back until next week."

     "Swell.  Just don't blame me if it doesn't work."

     "Nae, I won't.  The reason being, I'll be dead."

     They walked in silence a little while longer.  "So, how'd
this thing get down here?"

     "'Twas Percival's doin', many years ago.  He an' the
Church, anyways."

     She blinked.  "Wait a minute, wait a minute.  Percival
worked for the Church?"

     Obren shrugged.  "Used to, before he became a Knight. 
One o' their generals.  Then Clea showed up, he found he had
magic talent, and joined her cause."

     "So... this 'beastie' was trapped before then?"

     "Nae, 'twas Percival the Knight that captured the beast. 
The Church and the Manakyr weren't *always* at odds, ye know,
and this was a big enough threat that they had to work
together... ah, here we be."

     The passage ended abruptly in a pair of marble doors,
flanked on either side by ornamental urns.  There was a
Tri-fan inscribed on each door, made of precious stones - it
was the older version, the same as they'd seen on the map
under the Library.

     Mika ran her hand over it.  "So this is what it meant...
and I guess the Earth symbol meant that this was Percival's
doing.  Or something.  So, where do you guys come in?"

     "Percival was a good friend to th' dwarves," Obren
explained, setting down the lantern.  "He asked for our help,
and we promised we'd keep the beast entrapped for all time. 
And a dwarf promise," he said, "is stronger than steel, and
worth more than gold."

     "Wow."

     "Ye ready?"

     "Uh... I guess."  The dwarf placed his palm against an
unremarkable secton of wall, and the doors began to open. 
"Does the creature have a name?"

     "Aye."  He stepped back from the wall and gripped his axe
cautiously.  "He be called Diablos."

     The doors finally swung completely open, and a pair of
huge gleaming red eyes stared at them from the darkness.

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

     Cloudy recollection, from a time long ago...

     Tienne was in ruins.  Not a building was left standing
within three hundred yards of the duel, and many of those
beyond that radius were heavily damaged by the occasional
stray spell.  The streets had become a morgue, littered with
the bodies of those caught in the initial blasts and, more
recently, the unlucky soldiers sent to stop the duel.

     The elder of the two mages was having trouble holding her
own, though she tried not to show it.  Her former student was
using an array of spells that she'd never dreamed possible,
spells that called upon primal fire and drew stars down from
the heavens themselves.  Fortunately, she hadn't taught him
*everything* she knew, and during the duel had managed to
surprise him on more than one occasion.

     She couldn't let him win.  There was too much at stake.

     With her hand outstretched, she chanted briefly then
conjured a bolt of pure divine energy, gleaming with a
pearl-like luminescence, and hurled it at her enemy. 
Unprepared for such an assault, he staggered under its power,
the unforgiving light searing his flesh.  Finally the spell
lost power and he falteringly cast a healing spell, trying to
recover.

     As he stood before her, at a strong disadvantage, she
insisted that he stop his attack; there was no need for them
to fight.  He paid her no heed, however, and began to chant a
spell of his own.  But it wasn't a spell of any kind that his
opponent had ever heard, and she watched him warily.

     Soon she could feel the raw power of the spell as his
chanting rose to a fevered pitch.  The very earth seemed to
echo to his words, and the skies became dark and turbulent. 
She shouted at him, telling him to stop, and finally summoned
another bolt of energy.  It lanced through the air, streaking
toward its target with unerring skill...

     ...then, without warning, he vanished from sight, and the
bolt impacted against a pile of rubble.

     She cast about.  Had he fled?  No, not after all this -
she was certain that he had something else in mind.

     Then, with a deafening roar, the clouds parting around
it, an impossibly huge creature swooped down and hovered over
the ruined city.  The mighty dragon, its scales gleaming like
black steel in the setting sun, focused its gaze on the mage
below and began to draw in a deep breath.

     Desperately, the mage began a spell of her own.  It was a
difficult spell, and one so physically and mentally draining
that she'd withheld it until now, but it would almost
certainly protect her from the creature's attack.  At least,
that's what she was counting on.

     She spread her arms and chanted the words of the spell,
hoping against hope that she could finish it before the dragon
unleashed its power...

     She looked so surprised, there at the end.

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

     "Aye, we knew Clea," Watts explained as he pulled up a
chair.  "Terrible tragedy, what happened to her.  'Twas all
that lout Darovan's fault, o'course."

     Syeira was skeptical.  "Are you saying you were around
two thousand years ago?"

     "Not me personally, nae.  But I heard the story on me
great-grandpa's knee, I did.  He knew her well.  Helped make
the Heartstones for the Knights, in fact."

     "Who were the Knights?" Marcine asked curiously. 
"There's hardly any information about them in the Church's
records."

     Watts shrugged.  "I'm nae surprised - the Church went
rather to the bad after Darovan was defeated.  Well, ye gotta
understand Clea herself to understand the Knights, and to
understand Clea ye gotta understand the Church..."

     The entities known as the Three Gods, he explained, had
always been the focal point of the Church, but what had been
glossed over by the passage of time was *why* they were
worshipped.  Not even the Dwarves knew precisely why, but at
some point the Gods decided to seal themselves away to protect
the world from a great menace, and thereby sealing the menace
itself as well.

     Marcine nodded.  "And that menace was Darovan, wasn't
it?"

     He peered at her through his pipe smoke.  "Nae.  Who told
ye that?"

     She blinked.  "But... that mural we found, with
Percival...  it looked like the Gods were trapping Darovan."

     Watts shrugged.  "I dinnae know about that, but Darovan
fought against the Church, and it seems to me that ye cannae
have a Church without Gods, aye?"

     And, indeed, the Church had been founded to honor the
Three Gods for their sacrifice, and to protect their interests
in the world.  Then, a generation or two later, Clea was born
and discovered her magical talents.  Raised as a loyal Church
follower, she wanted to do anything she could to aid the Three
Gods.

     "'Twas then, as her followers grew, that she hit upon her
great and noble goals."

     Syeira was on the edge of her seat.  "What?  What goals?"

     Watts paused to take another puff from his pipe, letting
the suspense build for a moment.  "She felt that magic could
be used to free the Three Gods from their seals... while
leaving their prisoner trapped."

     "Is that possible?"

     He shrugged again.  "We'll never know, now, thanks to
Darovan.  She died with her quest left unfinished.  The
Knights tried to complete her work, but when the Church went
to war with Darovan, they made the mistake of siding with him. 
The Priests shunned them for that, would nae even listen to
them when they realized their error, and eventually sealed
them away.  That be the last we heard of them."

     Marcine lifted the amber pendant at her neck - rather
than mar the stone, she'd tied a bit of firm wire around it,
which she then attached to a length of gold chain.  "So...
what exactly is this... Heartstone?"

     Watts allowed a small grin of pride to pass across his
features.  "Ah, that be a triumph of dwarven runecraft.  Each
stone was linked to one of the Knights, extendin' their life
and amplifyin' their powers.  And, as our work never wears
out, I wouldn't be surprised if th' remainin' Knights weren't
up and about to this very day."

     "Huh."  Syeira thought about this.  "So, there's twelve
more sets of living armor running around out there?"

     "Nae, not all the Knights chose such a form.  Some did,
but others kept their human bodies, and one or two chose
even... odder forms."

     "Odder than a walking suit of armor?"

     "Let's just say that... if ye meet Gawain, ye really
won't want to shake his hand."  Watts stood up and
conscientiously emptied his pipe into a nearby bowl.  "Well,
it's been enjoyable talkin' with ye, but I has duties to take
care of.  There be little to do until the gloom rats are gone,
but there still be decisions to be made."

     Marcine looked up.  "Is that what Mika's doing?  Getting
rid of the gloom rats?"

     The dwarf hesitated.  "Ye-es," he said finally.  "Ye
could say that.  That'll be one result of her mission, aye. 
You just get some rest until she gets back - I'm sure she'll
be all right.  Probably."

     After he left, Syeira leaned against the bars.  "You
know, something about that guy just totally fails to fill me
with confidence."

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

     "You've changed, Kyle."

     The young dragoon was lifted - again - from his private
reverie.  "Wh... Cheney?"

     The older man took up a position next to him, leaning on
the rail.  "Word's already gotten around the crew that you
turned down the Captain's... generous offer.  I remember a
time when you would have cheerfully chopped your leg off
rather than insult an attractive lady like that."

     Kyle glanced at his companion in annoyance.  "Are you
saying that, while I'm hunting my own sister down for heresy,
I should act the way I used to, chasing anything in a skirt?"

     "As I recall, it was usually the girls who chased *you*,
but... no, that's not what I'm saying at all."

     "What *are* you saying, then?"

     Cheney shrugged.  "Just that you're acting in ways that
you may not be used to.  That could be a dangerous habit."

     The dragoon stared at the water again.  "I can take care
of myself."

     "Really?"  The skeptical tone in the other man's voice
made Kyle turn around.  "Tell me the truth, Kyle - if you'd
discovered a soldier under your command had in his possession
a forbidden substance, what would you do?  Would you turn him
in, or just keep quiet?"

     "Turn him in," was the prompt reply.

     "And if another soldier was harboring an outlaw, what
would you do?"

     "Turn..."  Kyle's sentence trailed off as he looked at
Cheney.  "It... would... depend on the circumstances."

     "Would it?  What is your *duty*?"

     "Okay, okay!"  Kyle thrust himself away from the rail and
began to pace.  "Do you *want* me to turn you in?  Is that
it?"

     "Of course not," Cheney replied mildly.  "What I *want*
is for you to stop hiding from yourself.  Don't try to deny it
- you've been torn between two opposite choices ever since
this whole thing started.  That's understandable, but it's
gone on so *long* that you may not realize how it's affecting
your judgement."  He put a comforting hand on the younger
man's shoulder.  "You need to just sit down and give this
whole thing a lot of thought, before you find out that you
can't take care of yourself as much as you think you can."

     Kyle took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. 
"Thanks.  I'll try to do that.  It's just-"

     Both men were suddenly thrown from their feet as the
Lucky Star came to an abrupt halt.  "What the hell?"  Kyle
grabbed the rail and pulled himself up.  "Did we hit the
side?"

     "It's a straight passage here," Cheney replied, casting
about.  "We wouldn't have drifted that far to the side until
the Captain's been drinking too much."

     "Then what..."  Something caught the dragoon's eye, and
he took a few steps toward the rear of the ship.  "The
paddlewheel's stopped!  It looks like something's caught
between the spokes!"

     "What?  That wouldn't have caused such a jolt, unless..."

     Kyle bolted for the bridge.  "I'll get the Captain," he
called over his shoulder.  "You gather the men!"  Cheney
simply nodded.

     At the helm of the Star, its captain was as perplexed as
its passengers.  She was currently engaged in shouting into a
speaking tube.  "Ye'd better have a good reason fer this,
matey!"

     "It's not me," the steam motor's engineer complained from
the other end.  "Everything's running fine, but the wheel's
just not moving!"

     "Then give it power!  More power, matey!"

     "I can't *do* it, Captain!  If I give it any more, it's
going to blow!"

     Kyle burst into the bridge.  "Shut off the wheel! 
There's something wedged in it!"

     Jil glanced at him, then nodded.  "Ye heard the man -
shut it off!"

     "Captain, if I do that it can't be restarted for half an
hour!"

     Kyle grabbed the tube.  "Dammit, if we don't shut off the
engine, there won't *be* a wheel left to turn!  Shut the
godsdamned thing OFF!"

     There was a brief pause, then the sound of the steam
motor's operation slowly ground to a halt.  The ship bobbed in
the water uncertainly, its crew helpless to control it.

     As Kyle returned to the deck, the Captain shortly behind
him, Cheney had collected the Guards and gotten them ready. 
"What's going on, sir?" one of them asked.

     Kyle turned towards Jil.  "That's a good question.  Any
idea what might be happening?"

     With a scowl, the Captain gestured to her crew.  "Break
out th' Light Globes!  I'll be keelhauled if I'll fight in th'
dark!"  As the sailors scrambled to obey, she turned to watch
the water with a tense expression.  "I've heard o' but one
creature in the Channel that can stop a ship dead in th'
water.  Pray to yer Gods, me lad - pray that this ain't it."

     As if in answer to her comment, a piercing screech filled
the air - a primal, ancient sound, one that froze Kyle's blood
in his veins.  "Somehow I don't think we're that lucky."

     At Jil's command, dozens of Light Globes were broken
open, the elemental spirits inside shedding a bright
luminescence.  The creature thus revealed seemed to be part
squid and part plant, and was easily the largest living thing
Kyle had ever seen.  Its single yellow eye glimmered with
reflected light, and its innumerable tentacles surrounded the
ship on all sides.

     Kyle drew his sword.  "And that is...?" he asked with a
bravado he didn't feel.

     "Kraken," Jil replied, almost too calmly.  "It's
supposedly been here since Leviathan carved the Channel,
feeding on ships and any monsters too stupid to escape.  And
we've found it just as it was getting hungry.  What luck."

     "This may seem like a dumb question, but... can we do
anything about it?"

     To his surprise, she nodded.  "We're going to do two
things.  First, we fight."

     He waited.  "...and then?"

     She turned to look at him, with an expression of utter
resignation.  "We die."

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

     The nearly pitch-black humanoid form stared at the two
small figures as they cautiously advanced through the doorway. 
"Ah.  Obren Runesmith.  It's Been A Long Time, Hasn't It?" 
The creature's voice was one of malice and power, filled with
echoes of an eternal night.

     Mika's heart skipped a beat as she beheld Diablos.  It
was something out of a nightmare - a sinister creature with
bat-like wings, serrated claws, and an ancient malevolence
that struck to her core.  The beast was standing in a pit in
the middle of the circular room; the rest of the floor was
naked rock, except for a walkway along the wall, made of
marble.  There was a large rune engraved in each marble slab,
inlaid with pure starsilver.

     The dwarf next to her was utterly unaffected by the
monster's frightening visage.  "Evenin', Diablos.  Time to
reinforce the runes again, I see."

     "As Always.  How Is Your Son?"

     "Passing well, passing well.  He's nearly forty seven -
he'll be ready to start studyin' the family trade within a few
years."

     "That's Good To Hear.  I'll Look Forward To Feeding On
His Rotting Corpse."

     "Could be," Obren replied diplomatically.

     Mika shook herself out of her confusion.  "What *IS*
this?!  Is this supposed to be a battle or a social
gathering?"

     Diablos glanced at her again.  "Who's This?"

     "Ah.  Diablos, I'd like ye to meet Mika Gilchrist. 
She'll be our Champion this time around."

     "Are You Truly That Desperate?  What Happened To Olaf?"

     "Visiting his father."

     "Ah."  The massive head turned to Mika.  "Do You
Understand What You Need To Do, Little Girl?"

     "Um... sort of."

     "Then Let Me Elucidate.  Thanks To The Church And That
Wretched Knight, I Am Stuck In This Room For All Eternity...
Or At Least Until The Runes Fade.  They Must Be Tended To
Every Twenty Years, Or Else I Shall Reclaim My Place On The
Surface.  Now, Obviously, I Don't Want Him To Reinforce Them,
Do I?"

     "I guess not."

     "That's why we need a Champion," Obren explained as he
removed a few tools from a belt pouch.  "By the rules o' the
imprisonment, he cannae touch me until he deals with ye."

     "And I *Will* Deal With You, Child.  Be Sure Of That."

     Mika scowled.  "Big talk, Mister Tall-Dark-and-Ominous. 
Let's get this over with."

     "Very Well.  Step Off The Walkway, Little Girl, And We
Shall Begin."

     Obren nodded to her.  "Once you're in, I can start
workin' on the runes."  He patted her shoulder.  "Good luck to
ye, Mika."

     "Thanks."  Summoning up her courage, she took a deep
breath and stepped onto the rocky floor.  "So, how do we
start-"

     Diablos gestured, and a sphere of black and purple energy
coalesced around her.  The young alchemist suddenly felt as if
a giant fist was being squeezed around her, and her bones
scraped together under the force of the spell.  She tried to
scream, but all the air had already been forced from her
lungs.

     Behind her, Obren had calmly begin to work on the first
rune.

     "See?"  Diablos' expression was smug.  "Isn't This
*Fun*?"

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

     Marcine had drifted to sleep with a certain amount of
difficulty - even after so many nights of camping in the
wilderness, she couldn't get used to sleeping on cold, hard
stone.  As often happened when she was sleeping poorly, she
quickly lapsed into a dream...

     This was rather more vivid than her usual dreams, though. 
She was flying over the landscape - not swooping or spinning,
but rather being pulled as if by a fishing line.  Trees and
mountains blurred past beneath her, and without warning a
mountainside rose up before her...

     ...and, without slowing, she passed into it, zipping
through open cavern and solid rock alike until she came
upon...

     ...a room.  More like a temple, actually - it reminded
her of the Church building they'd found under Voden, but even
older than that.  If anything, it was even more ornate than
the High Cathedral of Tienne itself.

     There was a crystal in the center of the room.  A large
red crystal, floating above a Tri-fan symbol and spinning
gently.  About once a second it pulsed, glowing with a crimson
light, with a rhythym that reminded Marcine of a heartbeat.

     As soon as she came to this conclusion, she was dragged
off again, pulled through the rock and out into the air. 
Shortly, she found herself passing through a forest, until she
came upon...

     ...another room.  Identical to the first, except that the
crystal was yellow.  And again, the crystal pulsed in a steady
rhythym...

     ...and she was off again.  This time her journey plunged
her into the ocean, zipping past fish and coral...

     ...and, once again, arrived in a temple room.  The
crystal here was blue, and...

     ...but it wasn't right.  The pulses were... weak,
somehow.  Out of sequence.  And it didn't glow as brightly as
the others had...

     "Marcine.  Marcine, wake up!"

     She slowly arose from the dream and blinked in the dim
light.  "Is Mika back already?"

     "No, it's Davin," Syeira explained, glancing at where the
elementalist was tossing and turning on the cot.  "He just
started thrashing like that, and he won't wake up.  What do
you think we should do?"

     Marcine sighed.  "Just... cast Sleep on him.  Maybe it'll
calm him down."

     "Good idea."  The thief's mumbled chanting filled the
room, and as the power of the spell wrapped around Davin, he
did indeed fall into a deeper, more restful sleep.

     *I wish I could help you, Davin,* Marcine thought.  *But
I think this is something you'll have to work through
yourself...*

     Syeira peered at her.  "You know something, don't you?"

     Marcine hesitated.  "Well, keep it quiet, but... I think
that being petrified really... hurt him.  Mentally."

     The thief glanced at Davin again.  "He said he was okay."

     "I think that has to do with being the only man in a
group with three women."

     "Heh.  Good point.  I guess not even Davin is immune to
macho posturing."  She frowned.  "That explains a lot, though. 
Can we help him?"

     "I don't think so... the best thing we can try to do is
get him up to the surface as soon as we can."

     "I'm all for that.  We've gotten some good information,
but I want to go back to the forests again."

     They sat in silence for a few minutes, and soon Davin
began a gentle snore that filled the room.

     Finally, Syeira looked up.  "That mural you saw... you're
sure it involved Darovan?"

     Marcine shrugged.  "It didn't have any names written down
or anything, but... I think so."

     "But if Watts' story is true, the Three Gods couldn't
have imprisoned him.  Right?"

     "It does pretty much contradict the mural.  Maybe...
maybe the method used to capture Darovan was patterned after
the way the Gods sealed up their own prisoner?"

     "Yeah, maybe..."  Syeira tried to work herself into a
more comfortable position on the floor.  "But I get the
feeling that this whole thing is a lot more complicated than
anyone realizes."

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

     Kraken was unstoppable.  The Guards and sailors fought
valiantly, but this was no ordinary monster they faced.  This
was something out of legend.

     Already it had consumed five of those on board, plucking
them off the deck and delivering them to its huge beak.  After
seeing that, the remaining fighters stopped trying to injure
the beast directly and instead concentrated on keeping it from
claiming another victim.

     A scream to Kyle's left brought him running, and his
sword sliced cleanly through the outstretched tentacle,
forcing it to drop its prey.  The soldier smiled gratefully at
him, and together they freed a Guardsman before he was pulled
from the ship.

     He made his way to the Captain, who was helping up the
crewman she'd just rescued.  "Don't you have any weaponry on
this ship?"

     "The Church outlawed weapons for private vessels years
ago!"

     "That's not what I asked!"

     She grinned briefly.  "Aye, we do - but they be on the
sides, and the Kraken be to the aft.  And since we can't
maneuver..."

     "Great.  How can we-"

     A Guardsman yelled out to him.  "Sir!  It's got Cheney!"

     Leaving Jil behind him, Kyle rushed toward the shout to
see the tracker wrapped in one massive tentacle, which was
slowly tightening around him.  The Kraken had apparently
realized that its prey was resisting, and was attempting to
soften them up before eating...

     Filled with desperation and rage, Kyle felt the same
power enter him as he'd felt when facing the wizard back in
Atlantea.  He launched himself into the air, then dived down
onto the tentacle's writhing mass.  "GROUND ZERO!"

     The impact itself was less than if he'd used his
naginata, but the energy generated by the maneuver was just as
strong as before, and the slimy flesh was literally torn apart
by the blast.  Severed, the tentacle holding Cheney gradually
loosened, and he fell to the deck.  Kyle ran over to him; the
tracker smiled up at him weakly.  "No... good," he said
quietly, in response to the unasked question.  "Too weak... to
heal myself."  He nodded slightly.  "It's up to... *you* now."

     Cheney lapsed into unconsciousness, and Kyle got to his
feet and faced the invincible creature before him.  He'd used
the most powerful weapon in his arsenal, and barely managed a
flesh would - it seemed that Jil's statement had been right,
that they would fight and then die.

     But he was *damned* if he'd let it end like this.

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

     Mika's battle with Diablos had been going on for what
seemed like hours. Very *painful* hours, as well - his gravity
attacks had battered her weary body in ways she hadn't thought
possible.  Only Siegvin's attack from so long ago even came
close to this amount of punishment, and this time there was no
way to stop it.  Again and again he summoned the dark energy
to crush the young girl, laughing cheerfully all the while.

     Not that this was totally a one-sided fight.  For one
thing, Diablos obviously wasn't used to fighting someone like
Mika.  After centuries of battles with dwarven warriors
swinging huge axes around, he was having some difficulty with
the idea of his opponent standing back and throwing explosive
potions at him.  It was getting annoying.

     What was also irritating was the fact that Mika had a
large selection of potions to select from, and by the time his
spell began to fade, she was already tipping back a healing
tonic or some such, and was ready for more.  It was
unfortunate, he decided, that his spells only worked on
*living* matter...

     "You Are Trying My Patience, Little Girl," he growled,
gesturing fiercely.  "Stand Still And Die, Or You'll Be Sent
To Your Room!"

     Mika ducked and rolled, leaving the dark energy sphere to
appear around empty air.  She felt she was really starting to
get the hang of this.  "Hah!  You're not so tough, are you?" 
She tossed another flask, which shattered and detonated
against his jaw.

     Diablos roared in pain, shaking his head to extinguish
the flames.  "By Ashura's Blades, You'll Pay For That, You
Little Urchin!"  He spread his arms, and particles of purple
light began to coalesce in his palms.  "It Is Time To End This
Once And For All."  Suddenly a line of darkness, sparkling
like the depths of space, stretched between his hands.  "Grand
Train!"

     A ribbon of black material slid out from the line, and
before Mika could react it enveloped her, tearing into her
body with impossibly cold waves of energy.  This was even
worse than his previous attacks - this energy was almost
alive, with an infinite malevolence behind it.

     When the ribbon finally faded away, Mika dropped to the
floor, curled up into a ball and trying to recover from the
fierce attack.  The only thing her fatigued mind could sense
was the overwhelming pain and Diablos' slow, heavy laughter.

     "Well, This Has Been Enjoyable," he gloated, "But Now,
I'm Afraid, I Must Be Going."  He snapped his fingers. 
"Goodbye."

     She tried to move, tried to avoid the attack that would
surely finish her off...

     And suddenly a strong hand grabbed her arm and pulled her
to the safety of the walkway.  She looked up in confusion, and
Obren nodded while making one final correction to a rune. 
"Good job, Mika.  I'm done now."

     "What?!  NOOOO!"  Diablos reached for the dwarf, but was
blocked by a shimmering energy field that had appeared,
forming a cylinder around the pit.  "Damn You, Obren!  Some
Day I *WILL* Defeat Your Champion!  Do You Hear Me?"

     "Aye, I hear ye."  Obren helped Mika drink a healing
potion, then collected his tools.  "Well, let's get going."

     "Wha... what?  You mean, that's it?"

     "Aye.  He'll nae be botherin' anyone for twenty years."

     Mika looked at the demon, who was still roaring in
frustration, and bounced the empty flask in her hand.  "Huh. 
Just count yourself lucky, Ugly Boy."  She turned to the exit,
tossing the flask over her shoulder.  "Let's get out of-"

     There was a brittle tinkling noise.  "Ow."

     She stopped, and turned around slowly.  "Was that you?"

     "Er.  No."

     "Yes, it was."  She looked at the dwarf.  "I thought he
was sealed in there."

     "Aye, he is.  'Tis only a one-way seal, though."

     "Oh."  An evil grin started to spread across her face. 
"*IS* it, now?"

     Obren scratched his head.  "Aye, but so what?  Even if ye
kill him, he'll come back in a few days.  That be why he's
trapped in there."

     "Really?  Well, you're probably right..."  Diablos
started looking a bit relieved.  "...but I bet he won't enjoy
it."

     While the puzzled dwarf watched, Mika dashed back out of
the temple.  "Uhn!  Kinda heavy, but it'll do."  She returned,
staggering slightly under the weight of one of the ornamental
urns.  "Do you have any water or anything?"

     He blinked.  "I got beer."

     "That'll do.  C'mon, hand it over - it's for a good
cause."

     "Really?"

     "Well, *I'll* like it."

     As Mika poured the beer into the urn and began adding a
selection of ingredients from her pockets, Diablos looked
suddenly quite nervous.  "Ah.  Ahem.  Young Lady, I Feel I May
Have Inadvertently Insulted You With That 'Urchin' Comment."

     "Uh-huh."  A dash of this, a dash of that, a whole BUNCH
of this one over here...

     "I... Hope That You Can Understand My Position In All Of
This."

     "Yeah.  Sure."  Only a few drops of this... but then
again, why not go all the way?  Use the whole bottle.

     "I Certainly Did Not Mean To Cause Any Long-Term Strife
Between Us."

     "Whatever.  Obren, get that other side for me, would ya?"

     Diablos was really getting desperate.  "You, Uh, Aren't
Holding A Grudge, Are You?"

     "One... two... THREE!"  The urn sailed through the air in
an unsteady but accurate arc and landed at Diablos' feet.  He
cringed, then realized that the urn's contents, while sticky
and foul-smelling, weren't actively dangerous.

     As he started to relax, Mika smiled at him, then pulled a
small red pellet from one pocket of her overalls.  "Who, me? 
Hold a grudge?"  She casually flicked the pellet toward the
demon; he tried to grab it, missed, and watched as it landed
in the fluid and started to fizzle warningly.

     Mika turned and walked to the door, just seconds before a
blindlingly bright light flared up from the pit.  "Not
anymore."

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

     Uncoiling like a snake, the massive tentacle lunged out
and smashed into the last remaining Guardsman.  With a scream
of terror and pain, he was tossed through the air to land in
an unconscious heap amidst a pile of barrels.

     And then there were two.

     Kyle and Jil stood back to back, slashing at any
tentacles that got too close.  The captain had long since used
up all of the shuriken that she'd had on her person, and was
forced to make do with a cutless she'd taken from the still
form of one of her crewmembers.

     As the Kraken paused briefly in its attack, Kyle glanced
over his shoulder.  "Sorry I got you into this, Captain."

     She shook her head.  "Were I to say that it be all right,
'twould be a lie.  Still, 'tis a fine way for any sea dog ta
go."

     "Is that another lie?"

     "Aye."

     Without warning, another tentacle speared toward them and
slammed into Jili, knocking her back into the Lucky Star's
mast.  She fell to the deck, groaning in pain.

     "Captain!"  Kyle hurried to her side, even as she tried
to stand - this proved to be an unwise decision, and she
coughed up blood before falling prone once more.

     "Damn," she muttered.  "This... hurts a lot more than
I... *thought* it would..."

     "Don't move," he insisted, checking his pockets for a
potion though knowing full well they'd been used up long
before.  "Just hang on..."

     "Thanks, but... we're all dead anyway."  She reached up
painfully and stroked his cheek.  "It's been... fun, kid." 
With that, she slumped to the deck, unconscious.

     Behind Kyle, the Kraken had apparently decided that all
resistance had been eliminated, and had returned to the task
of feeding.  As it pulled a luckless sailor from the deck and
carried him to its waiting jaws, the dragoon stood up slowly. 
If he was going to die, he decided, then he'd go out *his*
way.

     The Kraken's huge eye flickered slightly as it noticed
the shouting figure rushing toward it.  Ah.  There was *one*
left...

     The eye glowed brightly for a moment, then a thick
coruscating beam of energy lanced from it and struck Kyle full
in the chest.  He was propelled backwards, fetching up heavily
against a cabin wall.

     He gritted his teeth in pain.  Several ribs had cracked
from the impact, but if he didn't keep moving he was as good
as dead. He slowly got to his knees and tried to stand...

     A small glass sphere, its surface a fiery red, fell from
his pocket and rolled a few inches away.

     He stared at it unseeing, too numb with pain to make any
connections.  That was his, or at least his responsibility -
he needed it back.  Without thinking any further about it, he
reached down and grasped it...

     ...and it was there.  A warm, comforting presence in his
mind.  It had been with him ever since Atlantea but now... now
it was revealing itself in full, rather than manipulating him
from the shadows.

     Words poured into his mind - not forcing their way in,
but simply slipping into his thoughts, prepared to lie dormant
until the time he saw fit to use them.

     If you speak these words, the presence seemed to
indicate, I will aid you.  If you do not, I will remain
Asleep.  The choice is yours.  The choice is *always* yours.

     He shook his head as the presence faded.  If it had
intended to deceive him, he hadn't been able to detect it. 
And... what had someone said to him, not very long ago?  "...I
make the choices - there be nothin' greater in all the
world..."

     Kyle climbed to his feet, the Egg held tightly in his
hand, his mind still swimming with pain and fatigue.

     Choices... well, hell, right now the only choice was
between life and death.  And whichever choice he made, he'd be
making it for everyone onboard.

     It was time to do the right thing.

     He turned to face the Kraken, still intent on sating its
hunger.  Lifting his arm, he held the Guardian Egg before him. 
"From thy eternal slumber, I call to thee.  Avatar of the
elements, I summon thee..."

     The Egg's surface began to spin and swirl; tiny arcs of
lightning became interspersed with the fiery streaks.

     Kyle's voice rose as a phantom wind swept about him. 
"Awaken, Tritoch!  Awaken, Herald of the Three!"  Now shards
of blue ice had appeared within the Egg, seeming to dance in
the light.  "In the name of the Manakyr, I conjure thee!"

     *Manakyr?!*  Kyle's thoughts suddenly snapped into focus. 
*No!  I never meant to...*  Desperately, he tried to stop
himself, to bite his own tongue if need be, but it was too
late - the power of the spell had him in its grip, and he
could no more stop the casting than he could stop his heart
from beating with a thought.

     "By storm, by flame, and by frost, let all behold your
infinite power!"  The Egg lifted from his palm, then flashed
once with a multicolored light before shattering. 
"Tri-Dazer!"

     The power of the Calling whisked away everyone on the
Lucky Star, protecting them in some unknowable space.  Kyle
stared in horror as his hands faded before him.  *By the
Gods... what have I done?*

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

     The channel was silent for a moment, then a brilliant
bolt of lightning flashed down from above,  not fading but
continuing to dance on the water.  Where it touched down, a
cyclone of pure fire began to arise, surrounding the lightning
with a crimson whirlwind and following its every movement. 
Then, from within the cyclone, a blue light was sparked and
began to expand, quickly surrounding the entire display in
crystal clear ice.

     Which then shattered.

     The creature that stood in place of the crystal was both
terrible and beautiful to behold.  It had the body and head of
a dragon, with shimmering scales and sapphire eyes, yet also
sported a huge pair of birdlike wings, and its feathers shone
as if carved from purest opal.  It was surrounded by
multicolored sparks, remnants of the shattered ice, that
swirled around it lovingly.

     Stretching its wings out as if grateful for its release,
Tritoch tilted back its head and roared, an almost musical
sound that rose to the heavens.

     For its part, the Kraken was unable to appreciate this
display, and reached out for the intruder only to have its
tentacles seared by the Sleeper's glittering aura.

     Tritoch looked down at the Kraken, and seemed to smile -
it knew of this creature, and was glad that its release was to
face such a worthy foe.  But there was little time to waste.

     As the Sleeper began a slow intake of breath, its aura
was drawn in toward its mouth, the particles aligning and
swirling in a three-colored pattern... then the energy was
released in a single titanic blast, fire and ice and lightning
merging together to form a cone of unstoppable power.  The
Kraken was caught in the full center of the attack, and within
moments was utterly destroyed by the elemental onslaught.

     ...or perhaps not.  Though intensely damaged, the Kraken
was obviously still alive.  It was also, however, barely
intelligent enough to know when to quit - releasing the Lucky
Star, it quickly slid into the water, returning to its
underwater lair.

     Tritoch nodded to its opponent - a worthy foe, indeed -
then took to the air and soon vanished from sight.

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

     "So... let me get this straight," an outraged Mika
demanded.  "There was absolutely *no* danger of Diablos
breaking free?"

     Obren shook his head.  "Nae.  Those be dwarven runes -
they need to be reinforced to send him back to sleep for
another twenty years, but they'll not weaken enough to free
him for, oh, ten thousand years?  Maybe more."

     "But he was so sure he needed to kill me!"

     "Aye.  We let him think that, y'see.  Keeps his hopes up,
so he don't try thinking of another way to escape.  Between
you and me, he's none too bright."

     Mika stomped her foot in exasperation.  "Then I did all
that for NOTHING?!"

     "I wouldn't say that.  The gloom rats only show up when
Diablos is awake, y'see, so ye got rid o' them.  And if ye'd
known about our little secret... well, ye may not have fought
as hard, would ye?"

     The alchemist rubbed her forehead.  "You, my friend, are
just lucky I'm fresh out of ingredients.  Well, let's get
back."

     The return trip seemed to go a lot more quickly, and soon
the companions were reunited once more.  "Mika!"  Despite
their continuous arguements, Syeira was the first to greet her
as they emerged from the jail.  "How'd it go?"

     She shrugged.  "No sweat."

     "Heh.  When we heard that big blast - actually, we felt
it more than heard it - I knew it was you."

     "Hey, it's what I..."  She stopped and stared as Marcine
led a pale and unsteady Davin out of the prison.  "Big
brother!  What's wrong with him?!"

     Syeira put a hand on her shoulder.  "It's okay, Mika,"
the thief said, quietly.  "He just... didn't sleep very well. 
He'll be okay."

     Mika frowned uncertainly, then turned to look at Watts,
just now arriving.  "So, can we go now?"

     "Aye.  Ye've done well.  I'll have someone lead ye back
to the entrance."

     "Actually," Syeira interrupted, "is there any chance you
could lead us out somewhere *away* from the mining shafts?"

     Watts nodded.  "There be passages all over these
mountains.  It's a bit roundabout, but we'll get ye there."

     "Thanks."

     "And one last thing..."  The ancient dwarf reached into a
pocket and produced a small amulet, forged of starsilver and
depicting a pair of crossed mining picks, which he handed to
Mika.

     She looked it over in fascination.  "What is it?"

     "It be the Champion's Seal.  We award it to all those who
do a service for dwarfkind.  If ye ever find our capital city,
Dwarvenhome, show them that and they'll be honorbound to let
ye in."

     "So, where is Dwarvenhome?"

     He shook his head.  "I cannae tell ye.  No human's been
there for three hundred years."  He suddenly smiled at her. 
"Yet if anyone can get there, it be you four."

     Farewells were said, and before long the companions were
trudging up a long spiralling passageway to the surface.  For
once, they'd gotten more answers than questions... but things
were still far from clear.

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

     A warm feeling flowed into Jil's body, slowly rousing her
from unconsciousness.  She sat up carefully.  "Damn... feels
like a behemoth stepped on me.  What the hell...?"

     "Glad you're feeling better, Captain," said a quiet voice
next to her.

     She turned her head.  "Kyle?  What in the name o' the
seven seas happened?  Why ain't we dead?"

     For some reason, he wouldn't meet her gaze.  "I... guess
we must have hurt it enough to drive it off.  I've... lost
four of my men.  I don't know who's missing from your crew. 
But the rest of us are alive.  That's the important thing." 
He looked at his hands.  "That's the important thing."

     The Captain was too tired to notice his tone.  "Aye, so
it is."

     He handed her the satchel of potions he'd liberated from
the ship's stores.  "Would you mind helping the others?  Right
now, I... just need to lie down.  In my cabin."

     She nodded.  "Be my guest, lad.  Ye've earned it."

     After Kyle had retired to his room and Jil had revived
the remaining wounded, she stood on the bridge and addressed
her crew.  "All right, ye scurvy dogs!  We ain't safe yet!  If
that engine ain't running within ten minutes, someone's goin'
over th' side and it ain't gonna be me!"  The was a faint
groan and various comments concerning a 'slavedriver'.  "But
when we get ta port, lads, 'tis ale all 'round and a tale ye
can tell yer grandkids!  Ye've faced down the Kraken, so ye
have!"

     *This* time the comments were much more cheerful, and as
the sailors set about getting the Lucky Star on its way again,
Jil wandered the deck, applying advice or a swift kick where
needed.

     She spotted Cheney, leaning on one of the aft rails. 
Filled with an infectious good mood, she pounded the tracker
on the back.  "Well, what d'ya say, eh?  'Tis more of an
adventure than I ever planned, but by the Gods, we pulled
through!  Guess it's lucky to have Church folks on board after
all."

     Cheney just nodded, not moving his gaze from the shards
of ice and seared rubbery chunks floating in the water. 
"Yes," he murmured.  "Very lucky."

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

     Cloudy recollection, from a time long ago...

     "Darovan, let's end this now!  There's no reason for us
to fight!"

     He chuckled, a dark and sinister sound.  "You just can't
appreciate the big picture, teacher dear.  I have plans for
this pathetic country and, quite frankly, you're in the way."

     She closed her eyes, a gesture of both frustration and
fatigue.  "I don't want to fight you... but I can't let you
just kill me.  I have to finish my research, find out how to
free-"

     "You know, Clea," her former student interrupted, "that's
always been your problem: you talk too damn much."  He raised
his arms, and when he spoke again his voice was full of
thunder and fire.  "Beyond the crimson skies I call to thee. 
Beyond the eternal storm I summon thee..."

     Clea took an involuntary step backwards.  She'd never
felt such power - it was as if Darovan was drawing upon an
infinite supply of magical energy.  She lifted her own hands,
watching her student cautiously.

     "Arise, Bahamut!  Arise, Father of Dragons!  I shatter
the eight seals and conjure thee!"

     "Darovan, stop this!  *Darovan!*"  It was no use - she
had to finish this once and for all.  "Untainted light," she
chanted, "enter my hand and grant me your all-embracing
purity!"  Another shaft of glowing energy appeared in her
hand, pulsing with restrained power.

     Her opponent's casting was rising to a peak, and the very
earth itself seemed to vibrate in time with his words.  "Let
the fury of a thousand suns annihilate all those who would
dare to oppose you!"

     "Holy!"  The bolt of divine energy leapt from Clea's
outstretched hand and flew through the air toward Darovan...

     ...who simply smiled and completed his spell. 
"Megaflare!"  He faded from sight just in time to avoid the
power of Holy.

     Clea gasped, then spun around.  He couldn't possibly have
left, not after casting such a potent spell.  But where did
he...

     A terrifying roar thundered down from the dark, churning
skies, and her head snapped up to pinpoint its source.  As if
moved by a giant invisible hand, the clouds abruptly parted,
revealing the sun in its last few moments of light.  There was
something else, though, visible as a black dot against the
setting sun and getting closer...

     The wind from Bahamut's arrival nearly knocked her down,
and Clea stared in fear and astonishment as the dragon began
to hover above the ruined city.  Faint trickles of flame
escaped from its mouth as it turned its head this way and
that, until finally it focused on its prey.

     With some difficulty, Clea managed to regain her senses. 
This was no time to be standing around like a frightened
rabbit - she had to act fast, or perish.

     Even as Bahamut began a slow intake of breath, seeming to
draw all the light from around it, the mage began her own
spell.  "Guardian light," she intoned, "defender of all that
is..."

     The dragon had finished drawing its breath, and a
blinding ball of light was held just within its jaws.

     "...envelop me in your all-protecting aura!"  She took a
breath of her own, preparing to finish the spell.  "Runic Ba-"

     Pain!  Excruciating pain in her chest, like nothing she'd
ever felt before!  The effects of the spell?  No... though
still caught up in the energies of her spell, she looked down
in disbelief at the spear point protruding from her body, its
tip red with her blood.

     She turned her head with difficulty, and her eyes widened
as she beheld her murderer.  The one that had been able to
move in behind her unnoticed.  The one who had been Darovan's
second teacher, and who had goaded the power-hungry young man
into challenging her.  The one that she'd never seen before,
but would be the last person she'd ever see.

     The one who, many years later, would be known as Siegvin.

     She'd looked so surprised, there at the end.

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

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

     Whew.

     Not *quite* what I had in mind when I first thought up
FFL Way Back When, but I have to say that, overall, I'm pretty
satisfied with the way things have gone.  (Of course, I still
pity the next author in line - I'll be watching the story like
a hawk again, scanning for any contradictions to my chapter. 
I'll try to tone it down, though.)

     A few notes I'd like to make:

     - Neither Diablos nor Kraken were sleepers.  Kraken was
just a Big Ugly Monster, while Diablos... well, I added a hint
on that one...

     - I'd planned to add a couple of Stine and Siegvin bits,
but those were low priority, and right now I'm too fried to
worry about them.  I think I've advanced Siegvin's plotline a
little anyway, though not as elaborately as I'd wanted to.

     - This chapter is quite a bit larger than the starter. 
This frightens me.

     - Oooo.  Kyle is now the Designated Angster.  Hey, every
FF game needs one.  I had Marcine pegged for the position, but
what the heck, Kyle works just as well.

     - Many thanks to Lurker and Terence for pre-reading this,
even though it wasn't done.  If Kyle's plotline sucks at all,
it's my fault, not theirs.  (*considers*) Actually, if any of
it sucks it'll be my fault.  Oh, well.

     - Oh, and don't make too big of a deal about Bahamut's
summoning, please.  The 'eight seals' is *not* intended as a
major plot point. ^_^

     I think that should just about do it.