Many miles behind the Lucky Star and somewhat earlier in the day,
Kyle Cavanaugh leaned against the rail of a ship and stared out
over the waves.  He was entranced by the patterns of light on the
water, which had the welcome benefit of keeping him from thinking.
For the past several days an ever-growing sense of emptiness had
been gnawing at him, whispering accusitive terms at him.
Hypocritical.  Unfilial.  Sinful.  And of course Heretical, which 
had been very popular of late.

It was rather unpleasant, really.

Thus no one could blame him for not wanting to think too hard, or
for jumping when Cheney laid an unexpected hand on his shoulder.

"You okay, lad?  You've be staring at nothing for over an hour.  
Food's almost ready down below."

"I'm okay," Kyle lied.  "I just...oh, never mind.  I just wish
life had some easier answers."

Cheney nodded sagely.  "Who doesn't?" he wondered.  "But if
there's one thing life teaches you, it's that the best answers,
the real answers, can only come from inside your own heart.  It
may be they're the same as the ones you've heard all your life.
Or, perhaps they go against everything you've ever been taught."

"Cheney..."  Kyle gave him a warning look, but his heart wasn't
in it.  After all, he thought, I'm in no condition to be 
repremanding anyone.

"The point is, lad, when life poses you a question, you've got 
to find the answer yourself.  Mayhap someone can help you along
the way, but the ultimate decision has to be yours.  Always hold
on to that."

Kyle leaned over and rested his chin on his arms, watching the 
waves again.  After a moment, he asked, "Cheney, how do you know 
when something is right?  You personally, I mean."

Cheney quirked an eyebrow and though for a long moment.  At last
he opened his mouth, but stopped short of speaking.

"...Do you hear something?" he asked.

Kyle cocked his head and listened.  There *was* something, a sort
of long, held wail, and there was also a growing speck in the sky.
As it drew closer it became apparent that it was human and
flailing madly at the wind.  It was also headed straight for the
ship.  Kyle and Cheney watched, transfixed.

"...aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA*fwumph*"

Slowly, almost gracefully, it slammed into the ship's rigging,
becoming hopelessly ensnared and also causing the whole vessel
to lurch violently. It thrashed around ineffectually for a while,
and then paused to yell for a bit.

"Fools!  Foul heretics!  Think thou not that this will suffice to 
thwart the progress of Beastmaster Stine!  The Citizens' Justice
will prevail!"

After a bit more thrashing, it added, "Could someone possibly
cut me down?"

By this point a crowd of irritated sailors had gathered at the 
foot of the mast.  Several of them climbed up, swearing under 
their breaths, and succeded with some difficulty in untangling
the lines and lowering Stine safely to the ground.

He was a cheerful cherry red in those places that were not covered
in soot; his eyebrows were missing and so, once again, were his
clothes.  Seemingly oblivious of all of this, he raised a
triumphant arm and then collapsed flat on his face.

Watching unheeded from the shadows, Siegvin slowly lowered his 
head and sighed.  "Quite unbelievably mad," he muttered, and
quietly sank back below deck.

Kyle entertained similar thoughts, but the word "heretic" was 
burning in his mind.  There was no other possibility but that he
had been referring to Marcine and her friends.  Looking at the
man's wounds, he shook his head and thought: Did Marcine do this?
My little sister, who couldn't even stand to see chickens killed
in the market?  I've got to catch up with her, bring her back 
before magic tempts her into something even worse.  It'll be for
her own good, ultimately.

He didn't believe a word of it, not for a second, but at least it
was something to aim for.


              ======================================
                       FINAL FANTASY LEGACY
                       Knights of the Round
   
                   Started by Brian Stricklin
              this chapter by Mervyn the Wonder Slug

                    Chapter 21: Sea and Stone
              ======================================

Meanwhile, back in the present...

There were very few circumstances under which Davin would be glad
to find himself in manacles at the end of the day, and this was
not one of them.  The five of them were led aboard the Ryukin ship
with something less than hospitality.  Questions directed to their
new friends elicited little more than grunts and the occasional
monosyllabic reply.

As they sat slumped on a bench in a very small cabin below deck,
Davin leaned over to Jil and asked, "Are they always this excited
to have visitors?"

Jil sighed.  "T' be sure, they be not especially warm at th' best
o' times, but there be somethin' suspicious afoot.  Still, they'll
know me at the harbor, at least, an' if that fails I happen to
have met the shogun.  He be always interested in technology from
Tienne, so we'll be not entirely wi'out a bargaining chip."

"But we don't have any technology from Tienne with us," Davin
pointed out.

"Aye," said Jil.  "That could be a wee problem."

"What's a shogun?" Mika asked sleepily.

"They be like governors, lass.  Th' emperor still rules in name,
but th' shoguns have most o' th' real power.  Some say it be
almost like th' days before Genji united th' islands."

"Whatever," Syeira said with a yawn.  "I just want to get some
sleep.  Wake me when we dock."  She attempted to settle back in 
the limited space available only to discover Mika had already 
annexed it and was sound asleep.  She started to open her mouth
in protest, but Marcine held a silencing finger to her lips.

Syeira set her jaw, glowered for a moment, and finally pronounced:
"Hmph."

Outside, the Ryukin sailors had raised the Lucky Star's ruined
sails to catch what litle wind they could and lashed the ship
to the back of their own.  The awkward convoy was now beginning
to sail ponderously for Seiryu.

In the time since the Lucky Star had last visited Seiryu, the city
had made a spirited run at becoming the world's worst place to be a
damaged merchant vessel in suspicous circumstances.  It started 
when the old shogun had died.  The people of Seiryu were saddened,
as he had been a wise leader, but not especially surprised.  He had,
after all, been well into his eighties and fond of mountaineering,
so it was really only a matter of time.

When the Lucky Star finally limped into Seiryu Harbor shortly 
after dawn, assisted by a patrol ship and looking as though it 
ought to have had an ancient mariner staggering about the deck 
with a dead albatross affixed to his person, the city had already 
been through all the activities attendant on the demise of a 
high official: the processions, the mourning, the rituals, and of
course the traditional bloody subjugation of rival successors.
The victor in this scenario was the great-nephew of the old 
shogun, a man with more ambition than sense and less tact than 
either.  In the short time since he took office the level of 
official xenophobia had roughly tripled and relations with the 
capital had dropped off precipitously.

Seiryu was a lovely city to live in, but not just at the moment.  

Jil Fallensand was unaware of all of this, at least until she was
led ashore and attempted to extract positive proof of her identity
from the harbormaster, a middle-aged man who really didn't deserve
the tongue-lashing she gave him before the shogun's men dragged 
her back to her charges waiting beside her crippled ship.

"Mates, I'm afraid th' situation does not look good..."

And there was much gloomy resignation.

The samurai captain led them through the streets, where they were
the object of much speculation amongst merchants and little old
ladies.  The central government building was a large and imposing
structure, heavily patrolled by men with "hired goons" written
all over their bodies, and it was into this cheerless edifice that
they were taken.

The shogun hardly looked up when the captain stepped forward and
announced, "Foreigners, sir, brought in on suspicion of piracy."
Jil, however, promptly exploded.

"Piracy!  Be ye daft, man?  Ye didn't see any other ships about,
did ye?  D'ye think we flew out there?  And what fool pirate ruins
the ship he's raidin' and dumps th' cargo, d'ye suppose, and then
sits about like a stunned cuttlefish waitin' t' be harpooned?" 

At this outburst the shogun raised his head slowly and regarded the
lot of them with a subarctic stare.

"Uh, Jil..." said Davin.  "Maybe you shouldn't antagonize them?"

Mika stamped her foot.  "Yeah, we're not pirates!" she said, 
ignoring him.  "We were just trying to get away from Marcine's
brother and those mean Dragoons!"

The shogun raised an eyebrow.  "Fugitives?" he asked.

"Not as such," Davin said nervously.  "We were coming to trade, but
our ship was attacked, and we lost all our cargo."

The shogun exchanged eyebrows.  "Oh?  And may I ask what your cargo
was?"

All eyes turned to Jil, who looked marginally surprised.  "Well,"
she faltered, "there was some cotton, an' a bit o' pepper from 
La Verde."  The shogun seemed unimpressed.  "There were also a 
couple o' devices fresh from Tienne...," she lied, playing what she
hoped might still be a trump card.  "I know yer predecessor--"

"Had an unhealty interest in barbarian inventions, yes," the shogun
interrupted, juggling eyebrows once more.  "And which one of you is
Marcine?"

Marcine tentatively stepped forward and offered a little bow.

"Tell me...why are you being pursued?"

Marcine hesitated.  Heresy carried no meaning in the Ryukins, but
at the same time she was not eager to confess her magical abilities.

"That is an interesting stone around your neck," the shogun said,
not really changing the subject.  "I wonder if I could examine it
more closely?"

Marcine raised one hand protectively to the piece of amber at her
throat.  "I...no...," she said, nearly in a whisper.

"I am afraid you do not have a choice.  Captain, relieve her of the
stone.  And when you are finished, bring the rest of their
posessions to me for inspection.  Now," he said, turning his 
attention to Jil, "as for you.  We will inspect your ship.  If your
story appears plausible we will allow you basic repairs and send 
you on your way.  Until then, I am afraid you will have to be
detained.  Purely a formality, you understand."

After they had been led away, the shogun sat staring at the piece
of amber in his hands.  He recognized it for the same reason that
Jil had; he'd seen essentially the same thing in Genji's tomb.

There were all sorts of legends about Genji, but the one most on
his mind was the one that claimed he only slept, in a chamber 
beneath the crypt, awaiting the return of his fellow knights.  It
did not take a genius to spy the advantage of being the one to free
him from centuries of sleep.

Unknown to the shogun, the whole proceeding had been watched from
behind a screen by a pair of eyes.  Their owner slunk quietly from
the room, with the utmost stealth, before falling heavily and 
loudly down the stairs.

              ======================================

"Formality, my ass!" Syeira snarled, prowling the cell she was
now sharing with Marcine and Mika.  "This is the kind of place you
use for axe murderers and raving lunatics.  I think our bigshot
knew more about that stone than he was letting on, and I bet he has
no intention of letting us out."  She sighed.  "And I'm far too 
young to waste away in this dump."

"Really?" asked Mika.  "Gosh, how old do you have to be, then?"

"Watch it," Syeira replied warningly.  She leaned casually against
the thick wooden door and inspected her nails.

Marcine leaned against the wall and slid down it, coming to a rest
with her chin on her knees.  "I can't believe it's ending like this.
It would have been simpler if Davin had never rescued me from that
cell in Tienne.  Halfway across the world to end up in the same
place..."

"Now see here!" said Syeira, bolting upright.  "You're not about to
give up, are you?  I thought we broke you of that habit.  Don't you
dare go backsliding now."

Mika nodded earnestly.  "Yeah," she agreed, "I bet a daring thief
like Syeira has been in places like this dozens of times!"

"Hey, it's not like I make a habit of getting caught..."

"No, it's okay," said Marcine.  "I thought about just giving myself
up to Kyle when he arrives--"

"What?!"

"--but that wouldn't help you or solve any of the bigger problems.
But come on, how could we get out of here?  If I tried to blow the 
door out with magic in a room this small, we'd...it'd get...messy.
And there are guards all over the place."

"Hold on, hold on.  Give me a minute."  There was a slot in the 
door for food, so braining the guard when he came to feed them
was out of the question...  "Okay," she said at last, "you know the
Sleep spell, right?"

"Y-yes.  Why?"

"I do too, and there's the guards out of the way.  These people have
no connection to the church or the Manakyr except through this
Genghis--"

"You mean Genji?" Mika interrupted.

"Whatever.  My point is that they probably don't even remember what
magic is.  They won't know what hit 'em."

"But the door..." said Marcine.

"Easy," said Syeira, turning her back and rummaging in her clothes.
She produced a slender leather case with a flourish.  "I usually
carry a spare set of lock picks.  This doesn't look like too 
complicated a mechanism.  We've got the basics right here."

"But what if--"

"No buts!  Trust me, you can't overanalyze this kind of thing, or
else you'll never get the guts to do it."

"Right!" said Mika, cheering.  "C'mon, let's go out there and kick
their--"

Syeira laid a restraining hand on her shoulder.  "Hold it!  We can't
just barge out there.  We have to think this through."

Mika's face became a mask of perplexion.  "But you just said..."

Syeira laughed.  "Maybe you'll understand when you're an 'old lady'
like me.  Okay, we'll wait until night.  There'll probably be fewer
guards around.  We probably won't have much time to hunt around
for our things, so we'll have to be prepared to improvise."

Marcine shook her head slightly.  "I don't like the idea of leaving
the Eggs, or Percival's heart.  Or Davin's sword."

"We may have to.  That or stay here."

"I know."  Marcine let her head rest against the wall, then gasped.

"What?"  Syeira followed her gaze to the door at her back, where a
faint, translucent face was staring out of the wood.  "Yaaah!"
she yelled, flinging herself against the back wall.  "Ghosts!
Again!"

"Calm down," said the face, "it's only me, Davin.  The spirits here
are really strong, but I don't know how long I can keep this up."

Mika giggled.  "Syeira's got a plan," she said.  "If she's not too
scared to pull it off, that is."

"Oh, shut up.  Davin, is Jil with you?"

"Yeah."

"Good.  Wait for us, and in the meantime try to get some sleep."

"Is this going to work?"

"Yes.  We'll be on our way to Groucho-whatsisface's tomb in no
time.  Now go to bed."

The face started to fade back into the wood, but Marcine sat up
suddenly.  "Wait," she said.  "Davin, can you find out where our
things are?"

The face was silent for several moments, then said, "Yeah, I think
I have a pretty good idea.  We'll be waiting," it added, and then
it was gone.

Marcine leaned back again, feeling much more satisfied with their
prospects.  Syeira suppressed a shudder, then stretched and yawned.

"Okay, I'm gonna take my own advice," she said, turning to the 
single narrow bench, which was currently full of Mika.  "Aw geez,
again?  How does this kid get to sleep so fast?"

             ======================================

Several cells further down the hall, Davin removed his hands from
the door and sat back on his haunches.  He rubbed his temples,
silently thankful that the door had been wood.  His fears of stone
were beginning to pass, but it still made him feel cold and 
claustrophobic.

"Well?" asked Jil, breaking his reverie.

"Syeira has something planned for tonight, so I guess we should be
ready for anything."

"Aye," Jil said dubiously.  "Well, if we can make it t' Suzaku, I
promise ye a warmer welcome.  I have friends there who be not afraid
t' admit it."  She leaned back and thought for a moment.  "'Course,"
she said, "then the problem'll be *leavin'*.  Methinks I won't be
seein' me Lucky Star again...  I can feel it in me bones."

Davin sighed.  "I hadn't even thought of that," he admitted.  "I'm
sorry you had to be dragged into this."

"Not a word," Jil said sternly.  "A favor I owe Biggs, and damned if
I be one t' let down a friend just 'cause things turn rough.  It 
takes more than foul weather to sway Jil Fallensand.  There be not
many who trade with the Ryukins; I don't want for funds, and I can
get a new ship.  'Sides," she sighed, "she be no use t' me wi'out a
crew.  I'd like a few minutes alone with that Stine..."

"Just not here, I hope," said Davin as he curled up on the floor.

"Aye," Jil laughed.  "We have enough on our plates as 'tis.  Well,
mate, here's to a successful mutiny."

             ======================================

After saying goodbye to her grandfather, Pearl had spent some
time just wandering around Tienne, remembering things and seeing 
how things had changed since last she had been there.  Just seeing
the city brought back childhood memories.

Today, though, she was leaving.  She made one last visit to Father
Onias's tomb, which confirmed two things in her mind.  First, that
there was definitely something about Father Lambert that she didn't
like, and second, that she was being followed.  She wasn't sure 
exactly who was trailing her; whoever she was, she wasn't quite
good enough.  Pearl was an accomplished hunter who knew not only how
to track, but when she was being tracked as well.

Step one of camoflage, for instance, is not to wear the same thing
everywhere you go.  Step two is never to hold whispered 
conversations with your sword--also a good way to avoid being deemed
a loony, in Pearl's opinion.

Her stalker didn't give up at the gate of Tienne, either.  Pearl
caught several flashes of green cloth in a hand mirror; following
at a discreet distance, but still definitely following.

Pearl pondered her options.  She could head home.  That had been
her original plan, but she didn't especially care for the notion
of some potential psychopath fogging up her window panes in the
night.  On the other hand, she thought, she might as well drop in
and pay a visit to old Cid while she was on the road...  And if
there was any guaranteed way to lose someone, it was to head into
the Great Russa Forest.  The amount of blind luck necessary to just
stumble on Cid's house there was staggering, and that didn't even 
factor in the chances of wandering into Moogle territory uninvited.
This was generally a serious faux pas.

Pearl smiled.

"What the hell," she said, "I need a vacation."

             ======================================

It was nearly dark out when Syeira awoke, feeling stiff and cramped.
She was not pleased that the first thing she heard was, "Is it
night yet?"

Marcine giggled.

"She's been waiting for me to wake up to ask that, right?"

"Don't be silly," said Mika.  "Is it night yet?"

Syeira rolled her eyes as she stretched.  "Can't you see for
yourself?" she asked.  She thought for a moment.  "I guess I may
as well get started while I can still see what I'm doing."

She peered out of the tiny window in the door and then put her ear
to the wood, listening for any signs of movement outside.  Hearing
nothing, she took out a pick and began working on the lock,
muttering under her breath.  Twenty minutes later she was swearing
openly.

"Not complicated, huh?" said Mika.

"Look, I'd like to see you pick a lock you've never seen before
without any--aha!"

With a dull click the door swung open a fraction of an inch.  Syeira
cautiously put her head out and checked the hall.  "That's strange,"
she said.  "I don't see any guards."  She stepped into the hall and
motioned Marcine and Mika to follow.  "You two keep watch," she
said.

Now that she had a feel for the locks, the one on Davin and Jil's
cell was much easier.  She let them out, then peered suspicously
around the hall.

"I don't like this," she said.  "Someone should have been through
here by now.  Either that or they have the worst security I've 
ever seen.  Stay here for a minute, I want to do some scouting."

Syeira glided noiselessly down the hall, keeping to the shadows
where possible.  The cells were arranged in a long rectangle, and
she walked full circle without seeing any sign of life.

"I don't get it," she said, trotting back up to the others.  "The
place is empty."

"Isn't that a good thing?" asked Mika.

"I won't complain," said Davin.  "I think most of our things are in
a room just above the stairs, so--"  He broke off as a door slammed
in the distance.  Now there were rapid footsteps coming down the 
hall, accompanied by a muffled clanking.

"Get back," he said.

"Don't be stupid," said Syeira.  "You're unarmed.  Marcine and I
can handle it."

The source of the noise hove into view, a man with a large sack 
slung over one shoulder.  He was wearing the crecent-moon helmet of
a samurai, although the general effect was uncannily like that of a
small boy with a bucket on his head.  It kept slipping down over 
his eyes.  He slid to a halt not far from them, breathing heavily.

"Oh," he said, sounding dissappointed.  "You're already out."

"...what?" said Davin.

"Oh, I'm sorry.  My name's Hiro, and I came to get you out, you see,
because I saw you in there with the shogun and he's a bad man and
the Emperor doesn't like him, and you had that stone that looks like
the one in Genji's tomb so I thought maybe you could help us.  If 
you want to, that is, but we'd really appreciate it--me and the 
Emperor, I mean.  Well, not that I know him that well or anything,
but my family have always been his retainers and I'm pretty sure
that he'd appreciate it if you'd help--"

"What th' devil be ye yappin' about, man?!" 

"Oh, I'm sorry.  My name's--no, I did that part.  Look, um, maybe
I'd better explain later.  But I got all your things," said Hiro,
holding up the sack.  "At least, they're probably yours--I just 
grabbed everything in the room where they keep the prisoners' 
stuff to be safe.  Okay," he said, looking into the sack, "who had
the frilly underwear?"

"Give me that!" said Syeira, snatching the bag.  She gently tipped 
it out onto the floor, retrieved her possessions (and several other
people's as well), and allowed the others to do the same.  Marcine
was relieved to see the Guardian Eggs were there and undamaged.

"But what about the stone?" she asked.

"Here," said Hiro, retrieving it from under his helmet.  "I had to
wrestle this from the shogun himself in mighty combat!  Or at least
I would have, if he hadn't been asleep."

"Oh my," said Marcine, and meant it.

"Now onward!" cried Hiro.  "I swear on my grandfather's blade that
I shall restore honor to the Emperor!"  He drew his sword, somehow
managing to nick himself in the process.  He yelped and sucked his
finger.

"Are ye sure ye be a samurai?" asked Jil.

"Yes.  Why?"

"Oh, no reason..."

"Um.  I think we should probably leave now.  They'll probably come
looking for me in a minute.  You see, I kind of almost accidentally
set the barracks on fire.  I mean, I did set them on fire, but it 
was almost an accident--I was aiming for the gatehouse.  As a 
distraction, you know.  Uh, why are you all staring at me like
that?"

It was hardly the way Syeira's plan was supposed to go, but to his
credit Hiro did finally manage, after a brief unintentional detour
into a storage closet, to lead them out of the building through 
the kitchen.  Outside the sky glowed orange behind them.

It's not easy to look casual, walking down the streets of a foreign
city after a jailbreak with an inept arsonist, but fortunately the
northern part of Seiryu was quietly residential and few people saw
them.  They avoided main streets until they came to the well-
traveled highway that ran north around the coast to Suzaku.  

They slowed their pace once out of the immediate scrutiny of the
city, and Syeira demanded the rest of the explanation.

"Well," said Hiro, "for hundreds of years the Emperors were able to
enter the heart of Genji's tomb and seek his wisdom.  But one day
someone, ah, accidentally left the key inside.  The only other way
to open the door is if one of his fellow knights is there to wake
him, so I was hoping..."

"...That Genji's heartstone would react to Percival's?" finished
Marcine.  "Well, it's worth a shot, right?  And we wanted to see
Genji's tomb anyway."

"REALLY?" said Hiro, with an expression of almost alarming
gratitude.  "Oh, thank you!  I'm sure the Emperor will help you
out however he can."

"Could he get Captain Fallensand a new ship?" asked Davin.

"Of course!  Simplicity itself!  ...I think so, yeah."

"By any chance," said Jil, "this fella who left th' key inside...
would he happen t' be a relative o' yers?"

"My grandfather," said Hiro, hanging his head in shame.

"...I be not surprised," she sighed.

They were probably not more than five miles outside Seiryu when the
terrain started to be come severely mountainous.  Some of the 
mountains looked as though they had grown tired of all that tedious
rise and run business and opted for the straight vertical approach
instead.  To Davin's alarm, Hiro seemed to be leading them into
rather than away from the steepest areas.

"Wouldn't it be easier to stick to the main road?" he asked.  He 
wasn't really in the mood to climb, and he knew it was only a matter
of time before he ended up carrying Mika.  She was already starting
to look tired.

"Hmm?  Oh, but this way's shorter," said Hiro.  "Straight through
rather than around.  There's a pass up ahead.  Also, I can
absolutely guarantee that no soldiers will chase us up here."

"Why's that?" Davin asked.

"Oh, everyone's afraid of the dragons," Hiro said casually.

"DRAGONS?!" chorused the rest of them.

"Yes, but no one's seen any in ages.  Well, nearly ages.  Weeks,
at any rate.  Shall we stop here for the night?"

             ======================================

It was nearly midnight when the four Dragoons arrived in Seiryu.
They disembarked as quietly as possible, lest they wake Beastmaster
Stine and run the very real risk of having him accompany them.

The docks were all but deserted; only a soundly sleeping deputy
harbormaster and a few guards were present.  As Cheney had 
predicted, none of them looked particularly pleased to see armored
representatives of a foreign nation arriving on their shores.

Two armed men approached hurriedly.  "Purpose of visit?" one of 
them demanded coldly.

Kyle opened his mouth, but Cheney laid a hand on his shoulder.
"Let me handle this, lad," he said.  Before Kyle could protest,
Cheney stepped in front of him, bowed, and began speaking fluidly
in the Ryukin language.  When he had finished, the two guards
still looked stern, but less forbiddingly so.  They also bowed,
and stepped aside.

"Shall we go?" asked Cheney, leading the way out into the city
proper.

"Cheney," said Kyle, raising an inquisitive eyebrow, "would you mind
telling me what just happened back there?"

"Oh, I just told them I was an old pupil of Kiyomori of the Heaven's
Cloud, bringing you three to him for further training."

Kyle was silent.

"Well," said Cheney, a trifle sheepishly but with a twinkle in his
eye, "you have to admit, lad, you never thought to ask me *how* I
know what I know about the Ryukins."

"Wow," said Reill.

"Kickass, sir," agreed Martin.  "Is that true?  About Kiyomori, I
mean?  Er, who's Kiyomori?"

"A samurai and a leading teacher.  Or at least, he was when I was
here last.  I was a good deal younger then.  Come to think of it,"
he mused, "perhaps it would be a good idea if we got a move on 
before those two realize Kiyomori would have to be about 104 right
now."

"Cheney!" Kyle barked in exasperation.  "Is there anything *else*
you'd like to tell me?  Any scholarly works you've written?  Any
official awards or decorations? Any royal lineage, perhaps?"

"I'm only an old man," said Cheney.  "I've just lived more than 
most people my age."

             ======================================

The guards were no longer in a position to worry about elderly
samurai, since a dark, hooded figure had knocked them senseless 
upon its arrival and deposited them in an open crate.  This minor
task achieved, Siegvin strode to the end of a pier and looked out
over the waters to a far-off point, where only the erratic nature
of the current hinted at the great mass of stone beneath the 
surface.

"It's been a long time since we've been this close," he sneered.  "I
wonder, how much longer will you hold out?  How much longer before
you submit?  How much longer until your brethren follow suit and
render Clea's dreams an impossiblility?" 

After several minutes he said, without turning, "Well, boy, are you
planning on lurking there all night?  There's no point hiding in
the shadows; the blind see light and darkness alike."

The young mage from Ashgar hesitantly rose from behind a barrel.

"We will win," he said.  "You are one, but we are many."

"Bah."

"The Master's will shall prevail."

"Foolishness."

"We serve one greater than all your kind."

"A cipher.  A puppet."

"He shall rise again!"

"And a fat lot of good he shall do you.  Let me tell you a story,
boy.  Long, long ago a fatuous whelp named Darovan came crawling 
to Ashgar, seeking wisdom and craving power.  I gave him both.  I
showed him the extent of our might.  I sharpened his mind.  I fueled
his natural capacity for treachery--in retrospect, I should perhaps
have taught that subject less well.  Were it not for me you would 
not even stand here, boy, so speak with humility and seek not to
threaten me."

"'And he did bind unto him a Sleeper, and such was his power and 
might that no command of his could go unheeded, though the Sleeper
did cry out against it...'"

"Ah?  Heard about Hades, have you?" said Siegvin, with disturbing
cheerfulness.  "He's utterly insane now, you know.  Frothing mad.
As a matter of fact, he's quite nearby...I do hope young Miss
Cavanaugh has the sense not to unseal him, or else he may finish
my job for me."

The mage shifted uneasily on his feet.

"Oh yes," said Siegvin, "by all means rush to her aid.  Fear not,
I shall catch up in time.  But before you go, let me ask one thing
of you, *boy*."  At last he turned and demanded, "You are the one 
who cast that Flare in Ashgar, are you not?  Well, I must pay you
back.  Let me teach you one of your precious master's own..." 

Siegvin extended one hand and declamed, "Aurora, exhale bloody 
air..."

In spite of his choice of cult, the young mage was not a complete
idiot.  Siegvin's cloak billowed in the breeze of his retreat.
Siegvin continued regardless.

"...call forth your tainted light!  Shadow Flare--"

All sound vanished for a moment, and then a column of black light
erupted from the sea, impaling the Lucky Star.  Splintered fragments
of deck and mast rained down over the docks.  Siegvin stood
unflinching in the hail of debris, as the ship quickly foundered
and sank.

"Nowhere to run, Miss Cavanaugh.  Nowhere to run."

             ======================================

What was midnight in the Ryukins was still late afternoon in Tienne,
where people in the halls of the city's most sacred institution
hurried to get out of the way of a peeved clergywoman.

As she swept out of the Church headquarters, attended by two young
Priestesses, Mother Cecilina chided herself for trying to discuss
anything important with Father Lambert.  Had it not been for her
formidable will she likely would have told him exactly what she
thought of him years ago.  Meanwhile, she had an unprecedented 
anomaly taking place in the main sanctuary of her very own convent
and the pompous toad wouldn't even condescend to examine it in 
person.  It made her blood seethe that a man like Father Onias
could be struck dead while someone like Lambert--oh, but these 
were not proper thoughts for a Priestess, she told herself.

She rounded a corner and soon glided through the gates of the
convent.  It was a cheerfully severe building, made of rough-cut
and milky white stone, surrounded by a wall of the same material.
There was a courtyard on either side of the main entrance, with 
benches and fountains.  Mother Cecilina never passed them without
thinking of all the young novices out here, studying or talking 
during their breaks.

Like young Marcine, she thought.  She was such a sweet girl, and so
promising...  What could the world be coming to?

She drew up sharply, causing the Priestesses following her on 
either side to teeter precariously on tiptoe lest they cannon
into her.  She'd had Marcine in the back of her mind for days
now.  Granted, the whole affair was a terrible tragedy, but...

"Is something wrong, Mother?" one of the girls asked.

"No.  No, I just...thought I saw something odd."

Get a grip on yourself, woman, she scolded herself mentally.
This is no time to start mooning around with odd notions in your 
head.  You have more important things to worry about.

She climbed the shallow stairs to the entrance hall and passed
though the door to the main sanctuary, Priestesses in tow, intent
on preparing for the evening service.  Imediately she shielded her
eyes.  The flame was indescribably bright now; even with her eyes
shut and her hands over them she could see her veins as crimson 
lines in a field of red.  

As the light began to fade, she heard a voice, sweet, crystaline,
and pure.  It said: Fear Not The Light Of Clea.

Then the light was gone, and the hall echoed like a lightly tapped
bell.  Even through the sea of swimming afterimages, Mother 
Cecilina could see from the faces of the other two Priestesses 
that they had heard the voice, too.  When her vision cleared she
could see that the flame was reduced to a tiny pinprick of pale
blue light.  If the room had been in total darkness it would 
likely not even have reflected off the Tri-fan window behind it.

Mother Cecilina and her companions stood locked in silent and
fervent prayer for some time, until a novice burst in, wringing
her hands.

"Mother!" she called.  "People from temples and shrines all over
the city are outside!  They say the Goddess's lights in the 
triple flames have gone out and can't be relit!  What should
I tell them?"

"Tell them nothing," said Mother Cecilina.  "The will of the 
Goddess will surely become clear in time.  Until then we must
simply wait."

She turned to her companions as the novice scurried out.  "Go to
the headquarters again," she said.  "Tell them what has happened.
Do not leave until you are allowed to speak to the senior priests.
Now please leave me...

"Well, Lambert," she muttered, once they were gone, "perhaps now
you'll listen."

She checked to make sure she was alone, and then Mother Cecilina
sank to her knees and trembled.

             ======================================

Author's Notes

See?  I can be serious.  Just not for very long.  I don't know how
you people manage it ^_^

I'd like to thank Lurker and Brian Stricklin for bravely agreeing
to preread, and Kate Malloy for giving me ideas about the 
problematic Egg.  I'll take all the blame for Hiro.

My intention was for Hiro to fade out after Genji's tomb, like
Piette did after Yahl Russa, but that's out of my hands now.  I
don't think he'd last many chapters before someone strangled him
anyway ^_^

If it wasn't clear, "Light of Clea" referred to Marcine.  After all,
Darovan's followers can't be the only ones who need her...