"I hate this..." Zarela wasn't particularly happy right now. Hardly
surprising really, considering some of the things she had recently
been through.

"Well, perhapsh if you'd jusht lighten up a little! Ya big grouch!"

Zarela groaned as her traveling companion, one Pearl Lassenkirche,
broke into bawdy song after yelling her advice at the top of her
lungs. For the seventeenth time that morning, the Holy Knight cursed
ever suggesting that they accept the Moogles' offers of hospitality
the
day before. Unknown to her, Pearl had this little... problem with
certain Moogle drinks.

Specifically, Pearl couldn't resist them. Unfortunately, the effects
of
those particular Moogle drinks on a human being were very, very much
like a highly advanced state of intoxication. Or, to put it bluntly,
Pearl was drunk. Extremely drunk no less. Kicking a small rock in
frustration, Zarela trudged onwards, her still singing companion
clinging to her like some sort of life belt.

"I really hate this..." she muttered as Pearl launched into the
second verse of her song. Resisting the temptation to knock the other
woman out Zarela ground her teeth in tightly contained anger. After
all, she really didn't want to have to carry an unconscious Pearl
around either.

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

Elsewhere in the world, a momentous, almost miraculous, event was
taking place. Stine, was thinking.

Recently events had come to pass that, frankly, really shook his
beliefs in the world. Heretics had proven to be good, good men had
proven to be Heretics. What could be next? Dogs pretending to be cats
perhaps?

Stine had, after setting of to locate his beloved Pearl, stumbled
across the tracks of some monster unknown to his impressive self. From
the
tracks it had left Stine could deduce that whatever it was had
multiple legs, was heavy and breathed some sort of acrid, steam-like
breath. A variation of a Malboro's breath perhaps? Still, he had
deduced that, if this monster was truly a new or at least unknown
beast, then might he not be able to gain favor in the eyes of Pearl
for capturing it?


Which explained why he was currently in the middle of nowhere. Sort
of. Well, he was there now, and anywhere that he was couldn't be
considered nowhere now could it? Not after being graced with his
person surely. That was beside the point though, he had set up camp,
prepared a small pit to light a fire in and was currently sitting on a
tree-stump, meditating. Well, no, actually he was just thinking but he
had decided long ago that 'meditating' sounded better than 'thinking'.

To be honest his thoughts had been in a mess since, really, he had
witnessed Kyle using the spell that had _devoured_ several men.
Granted, those men
were heretics but still, the thought of that spell had made his blood
run cold. Yet... had he not seen instances of magik being used to
heal people? Was that not a good thing? Granted it was still heresy
but then he himself had a fair knowledge of the medical practices, one
needed it when hunting beasts. He had known that those men were beyond
the help of anything barring a fully trained physician or one of the
more powerful healing concoctions the alchemists delighted in
creating.

And yet they had been saved by Magik. Those men, by rights, should
have died.

"What is 'Magik'?" Stine murmured, idly scratching words into the
dirt at his feet. The beast master sat on a small tree-stump, watched
by a few monsters he had recently been able to capture and control.
Scratching away with a knife, Stine slowly formed the word 'Magik' in
the earth. After a few moments of thought he scratched a line leading
away from `Magik' and wrote the word `Heretic'. "Magik is the mark of
vile Heretics and blasphemers." He whispered, concentrating solely on
his ramblings.

"Yet not all heretics use magik, some merely oppose the mother church.
Magik can causes dea-" He paused. "The lores cause death also. As can
a shining blade, or a swiftly flying arrow."

"Is Magik then but a tool? To be used by Heretics and heroes alike?
So then why wouldst the holy Church claim Magik to be heresy? I have
seen a Dragoon, a knightly champion of the Church itself, use Magik."
Beast master Stine sighed, scratching the words `Dragoon' and `Church'
into the ground. He frowned and grunted in annoyance.

"Bah! Mine pure mind is becoming tainted with these heretical
thoughts! Further proof that magic is corrupting I need not, for if it
can permeate my holy thoughts then it must be near overpowering in its
temptation!" He exclaimed, leaping to his feet and throwing his knife
to the floor, where it landed point first with a meaty sounding
'thunk!'

"Perhaps the world hast gone mad and left mine self as the only sane
man in a world of madmen." He added, grinning at this thought. Pulling
his knife from the ground the fabled (or so he liked to think) beast
master decided that further thought could wait until after he had
satiated his manly and impressive hunger. He was _sure_ he had seen a
wild boar a little ways back into the forest, perhaps the thrill of
the hunt would help ease his mind somewhat.

It was with a resigned thought that his mind decided to point out that
maybe, just maybe, Stine wasn't _quite_ seeing the big picture yet.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
FINAL FANTASY LEGACY
Knights of the Round

Chapter 43: Time and Again
By Niku
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

The tower was a squat little thing, barely cresting the tops of the
trees which surrounded it. Dark gray slabs of rock formed its walls
whilst lighter wooden doors were positioned at regular intervals
around the cylindrical base.

After propping a now-sleeping Pearl up against a wall, Zarela had
walked around the tower, trying every door she came across.
Unfortunately every door seemed to be fake, for when she opened them
she found nothing but rock on the other side. Still... there must be
some way in, or at least she hoped there must be because, to be frank,
all the various time-telling devices around the tower were starting to
unnerve her. Water clocks, sundials, hourglasses that turned
themselves over, clockwork clocks, every kind of clock imaginable.

Things didn't stop there. Surrounding the tower, at a regular distance
opposite each door, was a number etched into the ground. Walking
around the base of the tower revealed that yes, as she had thought,
they were the numbers usually seen on a clock... Not that this really
meant anything, since they were just numbers, nothing more than that.
Inspecting one of the numbers closely, Zarela had discovered that
it was formed from a small hole dug into the correct shape and then
filled with a whitish sand. Curious, the Holy knight had tried to find
out exactly how deep the hole was by plunging a new shiney, Moogle-made 
sword (Which was apparently named `Mog' after the first Moogle, for some 
reason) into the sand.

It surprised her quite a lot that the sword slid in up to the hilt
without any apparent effort. Obviously the hole was deep, and the sand
easy to push through.

"Quite a deep hole thar m'lady!" Something exclaimed in a loud,
obviously old, voice. Falling back in surprise Zarela groped for
her sword and looked at the newcomer. He appeared to be an elderly
man, his body was almost bent double and his skin appeared to be more
wrinkle than face. Short white hair encircled an otherwise bald head
and a pair of old spectacles was perched on his beak-like nose. The
man's clothing was also old-looking; a smock, worn with use and a pair
of leather sandals was about all. He also carried a relatively gnarled
and weathered old walking stick to support himself. "Been thar `s long
as ah c'n remember that thar hole. Always wondered what it w's fer ya
know. Ah think ah used to know, but ah think ah fergot."

Zarela pulled her sword free and held its tip in front of the man's
face. "Who are you!? What do you want and how in the name of the
church did you sneak up on me!?" She yelled, prepared to run the man
through. After all, someone that old shouldn't have been able to sneak
up on a holy knight of the Church... right?

The old man just blinked and peered at the end of the sword.
"A Moogle blade eh? Good craftsmanship too... Made by Moglyn the first
Ah imagine, one of the greatest weapon smiths the world has ever known." The 
old man sighed as if thinking about someone he had witnessed personally. 
"Pity she was born a Moogle, she could have become a great asset in the 
world of men. "

Zarela fumed at the distracting talk and prodded him in the chest with the 
point, not enough to hurt but enough to be felt. After all, this man, if he 
was a man, could be her only clue as to how the Clocktower could be entered.
"Answer me! Who are you!?"

The old man just stared at her blankly for a moment before the
wrinkles that made his face rearranged themselves into a smile.

"Oh! Pardon mah manners miss, but ah am Gaspar. Ah live around here ye
know... Although, yer the first person ah've seen come to the tower in
a long time." Gaspar scratched at his ear and cocked his head to
squint
at Zarela. "In mah opinion, yer one o' them thar church knights ain't
ye? Anyways... what makes ye come to this `ere Tower anyways?"

Still wary, Zarela kept her sword aimed at the man's chest; although
he
seemed harmless he could be a monster. After all, quite a lot of
monsters had shape changing abilities, or at least the ability to
create completely realistic illusions of people.

"I... We search for the Knight of Time. Do you, perhaps, have anything
you could tell us?" She didn't know why exactly, but something kept
telling her to be civil instead of demanding answers. Something about
this man struck her as... wrong somehow. Not bad, but definitely
wrong.

"The Knight `o Time eh? Well now, I c'n tell ye that legends say he
lives in the top o' the clocktower yonder. They say he can only be
reached upon the hour, but t'me that don't make much sense." Squinting
slightly the man looked at Zarela. "Either way, ah hear he doesn't
like visitors much, not `less they have somethin' good to say."

Zarela just grunted in acknowledgement, she turned to head back
towards where Pearl lay when a thought struck her. "Hey... how do you
know about the Knight of Time anyway?" She asked, turning back to face
the man. "Well?" She blinked, seeing that there was no-one there
anymore. "H-How'd he...?" Zarela continued to stare for a few moments,
wondering how the man had gotten away in such a brief amount of time.

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

"K-Keep running... G-Got to-to keep running..." He had been
stumbling through passageways for... for... well, actually he didn't
know how long he had been running through this maze. Since all the
commotion earlier, whatever that had been, he had been running non-
stop. Ducking away every time he heard what could have been footsteps.

Hardly surprising really, the Manakyr guards had been on hair-trigger
fuses since the events earlier. He had seen one of the other
prisoners blasted to ash due to being seen and, frankly, he didn't
want it to happen to himself. A piece of parchment drew his attention
and, after looking around to make sure no-one would be able to see him
he dove on it, he pulled it free from the rubble. Holding it up his
eyes
scanned over it as his heart prayed for it to be a map of this hellish
place.

But no, things would never be that simple. This, like the other pieces
of parchment he had seen, was a scroll inscribed with Magik. His every
instinct told him to throw it away, to leave it like the many others
he had left beforehand. In the dim light his eyes picked out a small
symbol drawn above the spell... a familiar symbol no less.

There it was, as clear as could be. A Symbol of the churches own Tri-
Fan. Skulking back into some shadows he looked the parchment over more
carefully, making sure not to say it out aloud.

There! At the bottom! Writing, different from the rest! It was... hard
to see but... it was signed by a church leader? Dated too.

His eyes widened in astonishment, if... if this was true then... This
was important!

Footsteps echoed in the distance, and the man dove for cover, hiding
himself behind a pile of rubble which had once been a wall. Reflecting
on words his first tutor had said to him, words about finding hope in
darkness, Piette smiled. Perhaps he would escape after all.


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


"Sho... You shay we c-c-c*hic!*-cannae get in wishout the...
tshingie? Being on tshe right numbersh... yesh?" Slurred Pearl,
staggering towards where Zarela sat on the grass near one of the
numbers in the ground. Between a combination of Zarela's sober
intelligence and Pearl's drunken silliness the two, or rather one of
them, had come up with the solution to the problem of getting inside.

In actuality the solution had been fairly simple. It was just that it
was such an un-obvious solution.

"For the last time yes! Like I said before, this whole tower is one
giant sun-dial! When the shadow hits a number, the correct door opens
to go with it!" Zarela yelled, angrily gesturing to a shadow a short
distance away, a shadow that was slowly creeping towards where she
sat. "All we have to do is wait until _that_ shadow reaches _this_
spot and we should be able to enter!"

To tell the truth Zarela wasn't actually sure if this would work. It
seemed screwy enough to work though. Still, there weren't really any
other ideas to go on anyway, so this was all they could try.

As the minutes went past, and Pearl slowly began sobering up a little,
Zarela thought about why she was actually doing this. Was she waiting
for a chance to get rid of Pearl? No... that couldn't be it because
now would have been a perfect time to do so. Perhaps she was just
playing along until Pearl met up with the other Heretics, all nice and
close to make them easier to dispose of?

No... that didn't seem right either. Still, there had to be some
reason
but, alas, the reason eluded her grasp once more.

Finally giving up on trying to discover why she was actually assisting
a Heretic, Zarela realized that the shadow was almost upon the mark.
Grabbing Pearl she dragged the other woman over to the door opposite
the mark and waited.

Five...

The tower shuddered slightly, not enough to be visible, but enough to
be felt by Zarela as she leant against it's side.

Four...

A faint grinding sound caused her ears to prick up, fearing that it
might be an attack. After a mere moment she calmed, guessing that it
must be the mechanisms preparing to open the tower door.

Three...

Zarela tensed herself, ready to barge through the door. After all, she
had no way of knowing how long it would stay open... if it did open
that is.

Two...

She placed her hand upon the door and started to push...

One...

Ready... and... GO!

Pulling back slightly Zarela threw herself bodily against the door.
Without any real display the door burst inwards, leaving the Church
knight sprawled across the inside floor. After a moment Pearl fell in,
landing atop her no less.

The room was spacious, and apparently made of a dull gray marble-like
rock that had been polished so highly that it reflected other parts of
the room, giving the place an eerie feeling of overwhelming immensity.

"Wow..." Zarela wasn't commenting on the room, instead she was
commenting on the racks upon racks of weapons. Swords, maces, spears,
flails... every weapon she could put a name to and some she didn't
even know the names of!

She felt Pearl roll off of her, giggling like... like... well, someone
who was drunk to be honest. Picking herself up off of the floor the
holy knight peeked between the weapons racks for a while, examining
each blade and mace with a practiced eye. Suddenly she sucked her
breath in sharply and darted forwards, grabbing a strange double-ended
sword and holding it up into the air. The faint tingle of an
enchantment swept up her arm when she made contact with it.

Pulling the blade from it's scabbard she frowned with disappointment,
less than quarter-way up the swords blade had apparently been snapped off 
somehow. Still... testing what remained of the blade with her thumb
she recoiled sharply and glanced at said thumb. A thin trickle of
blood seeped from a perfectly straight slice along the surface of her
skin, eyes wide Zarela looked at the sword remains, that was _sharp_ ,
monstrously so! Still... with only a few inches of blade, and no other 
apparent remains in the sheath it was fairly useless as a weapon.

Sliding the broken blade back into it's sheath she caught sight of a
small row of symbols etched in gold along the weapon's crosspiece.
Squinting to read the tiny writing she examined it and gasped. For
there, written plainly for anyone to see was a series of words she
would have never expected to see in this place.

They were the same words that made up the oath each holy knight swore
to the church before their induction into it's ways, it's histories
and it's legends.

"What the...?"

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


Yet again, Stine, foremost Beast master in all the world, was annoyed.
His hunt had, so far, been a complete mockery. The young boar he
chased had evaded every trap, pitfall and deadfall he could think of.
Which was odd, since boars, even ones as old as this, tended to
usually just charge their attacker, instead this boar had led him a
merry chase towards what appeared to be some ruins.

Stine paused. And looked at the ruins, his great and legendary brows
meeting in a great frown.

"What hath happened to this place?" He asked himself, forgetting about
the boar and creeping towards the ruins instead. "There be naught but
rubble, rocks and blocks tossed asunder! What manner of trickery could
have-" He stopped, dead, as the answer came to him. "Magik! Vile
heresy hath torn this once intact place to mere shreds! Shreds I say!"
His voice echoed around the ruins.

Wait.
That wasn't an echo... Spinning to face the sound Stine drew his
rapier and sliced it through the air, his other hand reaching into a
pouch at his belt for the material component to one of his more
powerful beast lores.

"HALT! Who goes there! Answer my voice knave, or be destroyed by the
mighty might of Stine!" A pathetic whimper was the only response Stine
got, pulling a small root from his pouch the beast master crept around
a pile of rocks, he almost fell down the hole the whimpering was
coming
from, luckily he managed to stop himself in time though.
"Hark, doth this whimpering sound come from the pit I see at mine
feet?" he asked, replacing the root in its pouch and dropping to his
knees. "Is any man down in this vile pit?" He asked after sticking his
head into the hole.

"Huh? W-who's there?" Came the reply, fearful yet possessing the
strength of someone who knows they have nothing to lose. "I-I've been
st-stuck here for ages... C-could you help m-me out?"

Now, it must be noted that, although Stine was a moron at the best of
times, he wasn't really one to let a plea for help go past without
action.

"Indeed mine friend, the mighty Beast master Stine shall hoist you out
with his mighty arms alone!" Lying flat on the ground now, his rapier
by his side, Stine reached down into the pit. "Can thou see mine
mighty arm or doth thou need some light?" He enquired, the sensation
of someone grabbing his arm was the only answer he got however. "What
ho! Thou hath grasped mine arm friend, now hold on tightly and I shalt
pull thee up with mine mighty strength!"

Grimacing at the feeling of someone's entire weight on his arm, Stine
lifted as far as he could manage which, actually, was quite far. He
could just make out the top of someone's head. Good, that meant it was
a human and not a monster skilled in faking human speech. "Young
friend, place they feet against the wall of the pit, assist in thy
extraction by trying to find foot-hold in the rock!" Amazingly, the
person did this as Stine suddenly felt the weight on his arm lessen
considerably. A swift tug and the person was completely out of the pit
and sprawled at its side. Whoever it was he was covered in dirt and
grime, his hair matted with sweat and dust.

"Th-thankyou! Thankyou! I-I thought they'd kill me for sure down
there..." the stranger began, rolling over onto his back. Frowning
slightly Stine looked at him. He seemed... he seemed a touch
familiar... no, no matter, he probably just resembled someone Stine
had met on his travels before.

"Kill thou? Who wouldst be wanting to kill thou lad?" He asked, calmly
prodding the boy and checking him over for serious injuries, of which
he found none.

"Th-th-th-th-" Stuttered the boy, obviously terrified of something. A
sinking feeling gripped Stine in the stomach and he turned to see a
group of badly armed Manakyr survivors. Badly armed they may have
been, but each and every one had spells crackling at there fingertips.

"Halt yew!" Screamed what was aparently their leader, "What be yew
doin' 'ere!?" Not bothering to wait for an answer he turned to his
cohorts and pointed at both Stine and Piette. "Captur' 'em in th' name
'o our glorious leader!"

Almost instantly the air was filled with fireballs, lightning bolts
and shards of ice. Stine threw himself forwards, rolling under a
flying icicle and grabbing at his component pouch. Hopping backwards
he avoided a pillar of flame erupting from the ground when suddenly
everything seemed to speed up around him... no... no, things weren't
speeding up, he was slowing down!

"Wwwhhhaaattt vvviiillleee sssooouuurrrccceeerrryyy iiisss
ttthhhiiisss wwwhhhiiiccchhh hhhaaasss aaaffffffeeecccttteeeddd mmmeee
sssooo???" he cried out, his voice slowing to a point where it was
only just recognizable as a voice and not some sort of drawn out
groan.

As the Manakyr laughed at the terror stricken Piette and the slowed
Stine they failed to hear a single, quiet sound. One that would be
very important to them pretty soon.
"Meep."


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

"Heeeeeee..." Pearl Lassenkirche, drunk as a dingbat and only half as
smart right now, poked at one of the wibbly-wobbly walls. She giggled
and glanced over at Zarela who was examining what looked like, to her,
a large fish of some kind. Giggling at this she plodded around the
room, poking various things and giggling at their reactions.

It was like one of those huge toy-stores that her grandfather had
sometimes taken her too when she was a child.

Her grandfather... A tear worked it's way down her cheek as she
thought about the man, Father Onias of the church. He'd been a kindly
man, willing to help out and play with her until he'd actually risen
to the position he had when he had... when he...

Sniffling slightly, Pearl looked at the floor and watched as a tear
fell towards the ground... and splashed where it shouldn't have
splashed. Still feeling bad she watched as the floor flickered between
the wibbly-wobbly material it looked like before and a dark blood
colored stone.

Lifting her head she saw that this was happening to everything, it was
all flickering between being what she thought it was and something
that looked like it had come out of a horror tale of demons and
ghosts.

Glancing towards Zarela she saw that the Holy knight also saw this,
the 'fish' Zarela held blurred until it looked like a sword and
sheath. Then it blurred again and appeared to look like a spiked flail
then a...

Shaking her head to clear it Pearl stumbled and reached out to steady
herself, her hand grabbing hold of something vaguely slimy. Looking up
she saw that her hand had in fact passed through what had appeared to
be a wall and was gripping something behind it. A slight lurch in her
stomach told Pearl that she probably didn't want to know what she was
holding on to.

Pulling her hand away she half walked, half staggered over to Zarela.
"What's h-happening!?" She stammered, feeling rather than seeing the
room tilt and lurch from side to side.

"no! nonononono!!!" Came the panic stricken reply, moments before the
room lurched again, throwing her against something solid. Zarela
appeared to be vainly trying to.. to... to swim? Suddenly the holy
knight fell forwards, completely unconscious. Moments before darkness
overcame her also Pearl remembered what she had been told about the
clock tower.

"Pandemonium..."

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


"Meep."

The Manakyr may not have heard it, but Stine had seen what had made
the sound. his trained eyes picking out the tiny form hidden in a
small patch of high grass.

"Meep?"

Wait! There was another, like the other it was a small green thing not
more than a foot or so high, around it's head was a pale yellow crown-
like ring of blunt spikes.

"Meep."
"Meep!"
"Meepmeep?"

Egad! There were more of them! Clustering around the area like some
kind of large green fly. Or not. Well, either way they were clustering
around occasionally shooting looks of anger at the humans, but also
giving confused stares to the human-which-was-moving-slow and the
human-which-looked-scared.

Briefly Stine remembered the words of his first mentor, one of many he
had studied under on the road to becoming a beast master.

      -----------------

"Stine" he had said, "Remember that not all beasts that live in yonder
forests and mountains are evil, some are just plain crazy, some merely
wish to defend their territory and their homes or even their young."
The old man had then pointed out to where a group of squirrel-like
creatures were busy attacking a boar. "Some creature are out for
revenge on those which have caused hurt to them... there are even
those creatures who know not of good and evil, but just do what they
always have done."

Stine had questioned his mentor at length then, each answer he got
brought new questions until, finally, the old man had no answers left
to give on the subject.

"Boy," he had declared, interrupting another question, "I can't answer
everything, neither can the next mentor you seek, or the one after
that even. However, I can give you a piece of advice. Humans, people,
are merely creatures in the world. The great beasts such as the Zuu or
the Hexadragon will see you like they see any other creature." he
gestured to where the squirrel-creatures were now leaving the corpse
of the boar they had been attacking. "Remember Stine, if they kill
another creature for destroying their homes, then they'll try to do
the same to you, know this and respect the creatures... It is unseemly
to fight battles that you need not fight, especially when they have
been brought upon by your own stupidity."

      -------------------

Looking at the green creatures Stine recognized the look in their eyes
as being the same as what the squirrel-creatures looked like before
they took revenge on that boar all those years ago. Deep inside of him
he felt a brief pang of pity for the Manakyr, about to face a fate
they knew nothing about. Then he remembered, it would have been their
own stupidity which would have brought this upon them. They deserved
it.

A creature dashed out of it's hiding place and, apparently, began
singing. One by one the Manakyr noticed the creature and started to
chant their spells, only to stop with puzzled expressions on their
faces as they discovered that their voices made no sound.

A second creature waddled up to Stine and, now that it was closer he
could see it resembled one of those three strange things he had seen
on the Ryukin isle, although these ones appeared to have adapted to
live here rather than there.

"Meep! Meep... meepmeepmeeeeeep!!!" Slowly, or rather to his eyes,
quickly thing began to slow down to his speed. To everyone else
however it was Stine who was speeding up to everyone else's speed.

The Manakyr paled in horror and turned to run.
They were far, far too slow.

Stine fell upon them like a ton of rocks, a few of the mages pulled
daggers and tried to defend themselves to no avail.

In the grass the creatures sniggered as they watched their revenge
play out in front of them...


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

"uhhhh....?" Her head hurt. Lots. After the room had started swimming
and filling with slime she remembered the terror of her worst fear
coming true. She had tried to swim up, to avoid... to avoid...

Zarela blinked a few times. She remembered drowning in the slime...
she _knew_ she had felt the terror as her fear of drowning came to
pass, the awful sensation of her lungs being filled with something
other than air.

So then, if she had drowned, why was she alive? Feeling something in
her grip she glanced at her hand, noting that she still held the
broken sword. Letting her gaze wander the holy knight examined the
room, a throne room of some kind, but not like one she had ever seen
before. The walls were pulsing and moving, like living beings... there
also appeared to be something crawling over them too. With a sudden
gut-wrenching feeling she realized that the pulsing walls were covered
with bugs, millions of them. Millions and millions even.

The floor of the room, where she lay at least, felt soft and warm, a
rather... unsettling feeling indeed. Yet if she moved slightly to the
left it felt cold and smooth like marble instead.

"'s a 'llusion... 's not real..." Came a mumbling from beside her.
Looking over she saw that Pearl too lay on the floor of this room this
room with... with... Pink fluffy walls? No... that wasn't right, they
were bug covered walls a moment ago weren't they? Not dark gray stone
like they were no-

"Hey... wa-wait a mi-minute..." She muttered, her voice being
distorted as she felt the entire floor shake from side to side.

"A minute? I can wait a minute... or an hour even? Perhaps you wish to
wait for a century or so... I can arrange that too..." The voice was
horrible really, changing pitch and tone erratically.
"I... do apologize... Really I do, you said you were looking for me
yes? You told my construct you wanted me didn't you?" The voice
appeared to have settled on a sound now, a high pitched nasal kind of
voice, one that made Zarela's teeth grate slightly.

"Pande... pande... pandemonium?" Pearls voice was quiet and unsure as
the woman slowly regained consciousness. "You... You're Kirin?" There
was a harsh barking laugh as Pearl spoke the name, a deriding laugh
that must have made her feel less than an inch big. Idly Zarela noted
that the walls appeared to be made of fish now for some reason.

"So you know of my realm hmmm? But I'm not Kirin... well... I don't
think I am... I might have been once." The voice had a slight wistful
tone as it rambled about who it might have been. Suddenly brightly
colored insects flew past Zarela's vision as she finally tried to sit
up. "Look..." Came the voice, now with a dreamy tone. "I made
butterflies... Butterflies... The knight of time made a rhyme all
about butterflies... pretty as can be, they fly and fly I can see...
They flap and flip, flip and flap and... and..." Something dark moved
in front of Zarela's vision, blocking out the light... it was a
vaguely horse-like face, yet at the same time it looked like a man, a
dog and a crow. "Do you know anything that rhymes with flap?" It asked
finally revealing what the voice belonged to.

"You... you're the knight of time?" Pearl asked from where she lay,
instantly the _thing_ moved out of Zarela's vision and into pearls
instead. Just behind it Pearl could make out that the rooms walls
appeared to be made out of cheese now.

"You're the knight of time? Nonononono... You're not the knight of
time... _I_ am."


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

The brawl, for it couldn't be called a 'fight' really, was over in
mere moments. As the last Manakyr corpse fell to the ground Stine
stood up and posed, completely unaware of the green creature he had
just stepped upon.

Frowning the other creatures began singing quietly.

"Ah! Finally I have had a chance to test mine legendary fighting
prowess out on more of these heretical s-Meep!" Stine blinked. That
wasn't right... he tried again. "Meep! Meep Meep Meep Meep mee-...
MEEEP!!!!"

Piette, his fear having calmed down, was now rolling about in laughter
for Stine, once great and almost possibly legendary, was currently in
the form of what many called... An Imp.

Shaking one little fist at Piette, Stine started ranting about this
indignity. Not that Piette understood him of course, since an Imp's
entire vocabulary seemed to consist of the sound 'Meep'.

"MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!!!!"


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

NOTES:
Uhmm... okay. re-write.
Hopefully this is better.

Knight of Time/Kirin/whatever he decides to call himself next time:
He/She/it's demented. If you've ever read any of the Endless comics
(Death, Dream, Desire, etc) Then you can guess that Kirin is kinda
like Dementia. His/it's thoughts flip over, around and under like...
like something that changes very fast.

And his world, Pandemonium changes with it. >.< Think of it as an ever
changing illusion I guess, nothing is what it seems nor what it
doesn't seem like either. it just is.

And Stine the imp. this is what we call 'humor' if you don't understand it 
then why did you read this far anyway? O.o?

*Niku kicks his sarcastic and cynical side to death*

The broken sword i was originally going to write as the 'defender' a magic 
sword from FF3 i think >.< then i decided not to say anything about it. It 
is sharp though...

Oh, and a thankie to my few pre-readers, who really saved my ar-*pauses* 
backside. Yes, thats what i meant to say!

Niku.
He who wants to kill a few innocents now.
Or sleep... one of the two.

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

(A large red curtain rises to reveal a titlecard)

BONUS CHIBI OMAKE:

(This titlecard moves away along with a second curtain revealing a
Chibi-Pearl and a Chibi-Zarela standing in a field, why... we don't
know, they just are.)

Chibi-Pearl: (clutching her head) "Waaaaaah!!! My head hurts!!!"

Chibi-Zarela: (nodding sagely) "You have a hangover, obviously."

Chibi-Pearl: (teary eyed) "... how do I stop it hurting then?"

Chibi-Zarela: "Use my never-fail hangover cure! Just one gold coin per
               cure!"

Chibi-Pearl: (hands Chibi-Zarela a coin) "Okay! hit me!"

Chibi-Zarela: (smirking much) "My, how did you guess that was the
               cure?"

(Chibi-Zarela whacks Chibi-Pearl on the head, knocking her out)

Chibi-Zarela: "Any complaints?" (listens) "No? Well I said it would
               work."

(Chibi Zarela smirks evilly and the curtain closes on this little
scene)