It flew slowly over the land, something that any child knew was impossible. Those who saw it first reported their discovery, but were immediately laughed at by their peers. This ridicule soon turned to dread, however, as word began to spread and more and more people saw this patently impossible thing. With a full score of silver vessels floating in escort around it, the mountain continued on toward Tienne, heedless of anything in its path. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- FINAL FANTASY LEGACY Knights of the Round Begun (and herein continued) by Brian Stricklin Chapter 49: Ruin and Desecration -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- "Look," Mika snapped, getting annoyed. "There's no reason you can't do this. Just take a deep breath and *say* it. Okay?" She held up a small brown circular object. "Now, repeat after me. 'I... want... a cookie.' Go ahead..." "Stine doth want a cookie." She flailed her arms angrily. "NO! What is your *problem*?! Can't you talk like a normal human being for once in your life?" She glanced at one of the other passengers. "No offense." "None taken," Tharlo assured her cheerfully. The Beastmaster looked puzzled. "Stine doth not understand what thou dost find amiss with his speech pattern." As an enraged Mika looked around for something heavy to throw, Stine lapsed into a reflective reverie. "Verily, Stine doth speak with the cultured eloquence of his homeland, the small province of Habarm. It doth be a beautiful valley, rich with culture and history. If not for the herd of fierce carnivorous cattle that ravages the countryside, Habarm would surely have taken its place as a world power, rather than being the Church's strongest ally." Sitting nearby, Marcine took care to control her expression; her knowledge of Habarm didn't exactly match with Stine's description. "Fine. No cookie for you, then." Mika paused, then peered at Stine suspiciously. "Carnivorous cattle?" "Indeed." "So why didn't your people just drive them out or kill 'em?" "We didst try, but they are very dangerous creatures, and the lead male of the herd is a true terror. 'Tis why Stine didst become a Beastmaster; only the truly skilled may hope to defeat the Habarm Bull." Before Mika could express her disbelief, a gentle shaking of the cabin indicated that the spider-walker was slowing down. With another doubtful glare at Stine, she got to her feet and made her way to the front of the vehicle, reaching Davin's side just as it came to a stop. "What's up, Big Brother?" Davin hesitated, never taking his eyes off the landscape before him. "I... I'm not sure." Manipulating the controls, he lowered the cabin to ground level, then stepped outside, Mika in tow. She glanced up at him, puzzled, as he continued to stare at the horizon. "C'mon, Big Brother," she insisted. "We're almost to Tienne; let's get a move on, okay?" When there was no response, her expression clouded up. "Don't make me kick you." "Something's wrong," he said, ignoring her. "I just can't put my finger on what it is..." "What's there to be wrong? There's nothing out there! Just rocks and trees and clouds and mountains and-" "Mountains!" Davin quickly scanned the horizon again, then his eyes grew wide. "That mountain," he said, pointing, "isn't supposed to be there." There was a long, portentous pause. "...right. Y'know, maybe I'd better take over the controls," she decided. "I think driving for so long is starting to mess with your head." Davin blinked, and looked at the mountain again. "Uh... you might you have a point there..." "Nay, thou dost be right," Stine interjected, climbing out of the walker. "That mountain definitely be out of place." Mika glared at him. "And what would you know about it?" she scoffed. Though visibly annoyed for a moment, he reined in his temper. "Why, it doth be simply because Stine hath traveled to and from Tienne many times, much as Davin has." The Beastmaster looked up at the distant mountain. "From its position, Stine wouldst guess that it is perhaps fifty miles northwest of Tienne itself." "That's what I was thinking," Davin agreed. "And there's nothing there except sparse woods and hills." "Precisely." "You've both gone nuts," Mika declared. "Things that big don't just pop up overnight, or even in the time since we left Tienne." She hesitated. "...do they?" Davin shook himself and turned toward the spider-walker. "I hope you're right, but just the same I think we'd better pick up the pace. For some reason I've got a *really* bad feeling about that mountain." -=-=-=-=-=-=- "Don't be so paranoid. It's just a mountain, for crying out loud!" Zarela glared disdainfully at her companion. "A country bumpkin such as yourself can't be expected to recognize the skyline around Tienne. Trust me; there's no mountain anywhere near the city. Until now, that is." The swordswoman returned her attention to the suspicious hunk of geography. "There's something very wrong here." There was an unusually loud yawn behind them, and Lumina stumbled drowsily toward the front of the cave, her two bodyguards in tow. "Mornin', old ladies. What's the commotion?" Zarela's eyebrow twitched. "Old... ladies?" Pearl shrugged and cocked a thumb at the distant mountain. "Zarela seems to think there's something weird about that hunk of rock near Tienne." "Hmm?" The Moon Knight peered blearily past her... ...then almost immediately spun around with a cry of pain and dismay. "Gyah!" She rubbed at her eyes. "Jeez, *warn* a girl first next time, would you?" Pearl blinked. "What's the problem?" "Can't you see it? That thing is absolutely *dripping* with magic." Zarela whirled toward the silver-clad Knight. "Magic?! Are you sure?" "Positive." Lumina blinked once or twice experimentally, then turned back toward the mountain, shielding her eyes against a light nobody else could see. "There's a few smaller sources around it, but the mountain itself has enough magic to... to..." "Destroy a city?" Zarela's voice was tense. "That's one way of putting it." Pearl blanched. "The Manakyr... they're coming back to finish the job." "Not on *my* watch," Zarela snarled. She shot a glance at Lumina. "Can you get us down there?" The Knight shook her head. "I am afraid that, during the day, my powers are sadly limited," she said, lapsing into a more adult mode for a moment. "However, there *is* another way to get there faster, but I should warn you it's not very comfortable." "What difference does that make? Take us to Tienne right *now*!" "If that is what you wish." Lumina suddenly jumped on Sacred's head and took the bull, as it were, by the horns. "You heard her, moo-cows! Let's get a-movin'!" "Right, Boss," they replied in unison. Sacred and Minotaur reached toward the two women... "What are you-?" "Hey, get your hands off me!" ...and within moments were traveling at a breakneck speed down the mountainside, each bearing a squirming, protesting load. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Word of the approaching Manakyr base had long since reached Tienne, and had been verified. Though there had been some surprise that the enemy was returning so soon after the last attack, the Church defenders had been practicing their new tactics and maneuvers for well over a week, and were ready to put their skills to the test. They were eager to come to grips with their foe... though most were less than thrilled with their new allies. This, then, was a scene that would be played out, with inevitable variations, throughout Tienne. "How much longer, Sarge?" Sergeant Gwendolyn Rhimes, a veteran Holy Guardsman, rolled her eyes in annoyance. "How'm I supposed to know, Vicks?" she demanded, returning her attention to the sword she was sharpening. "It'll probably be a while; not even those damn wizards could make a mountain move real fast." The young corporal scowled. "Mountains aren't supposed to move at *all*," he pointed out. "That's real observant, there, kid," drawled the third member of the squad, a man known simply as Hound; he was a long time friend of the sergeant, a comrade in arms, and - she remembered fondly - her partner in more than one nocturnal maneuver. He sat reclining on a windowsill, gazing out at the city below, and continued. "Did someone help you with your homework, or did you work it out all by yourself?" "Shut up!" Vicks snapped hotly. "And I'm not a kid!" "Sure you're not," Hound replied, casting a wink at the sergeant. "Look, the thing about going up against magic users is that, just every so often, they're gonna use magic. You gotta learn to expect it, and not get all worried about it when they do." "Yeah, well... I just don't like it!" He shot a glare at the newest member of the squad, sitting across the room in what the Guardsmen generally agreed to be an overly fancy red uniform. "Anyone who uses magic deserves to die!" The red-garbed figure ignored this. The sergeant narrowed her eyes. "Simmer down, Corporal." When he still looked belligerent, she treated him to a steely stare. "That's an order." As Vicks subsided with bad grace, Hound glanced at the subject under consideration himself. "Kid's got a point, Gwen," he remarked, lowering his voice. "How do we know we can trust this guy? Sure, the Church says these 'Awakened' are okay, but it's *our* necks on the line out there." She shrugged. "I know what you mean, but there's nothin' we can do about it, short of desertion. Best we can do is live with it 'til this is over." "Yeah, but he gets on my nerves somethin' fierce. I mean, he's everything you'd expect a Manakyr to be; he's arrogant, he's snide, he's completely full of himself..." "...And he also has very good hearing," added a new voice. The Guardsmen looked up at the Awakened, who was still going over some scrolls. When he spoke, it was with the voice of a young noble, with mannerisms that were perhaps forty years out of date. "Honestly, if you're so intent to talk about me behind my back, you might at least not do it in front of me." Gwen stood up with a frown. "We just want to know if we can trust you, wizard," she replied. "We're not used to putting our faith in heretics." He lifted his head and directed a cold gaze toward her. She had to admit he was handsome... in a clammy, pompous sort of way. "You have absolutely no comprehension," he informed her. "Trust or not; it makes little difference to me. I am here to defend this city, and defend it I shall." He allowed himself a small smirk. "Indeed, you should be thanking me for agreeing to help after being so cruelly maligned by the Church." "You got what you deserved," Vicks replied stubbornly. "The Church isn't the one who used magic." When the red mage began to chuckle, the soldier's hands balled into fists. "What's so funny?" He shook his head, still laughing. "I've been asked not to tell," he replied. "Suffice to say that there will be some major changes in the Church when this is all done, changes rather more drastic than allowing the use of magic against the Manakyr." "Be that as it may," Hound retorted, "we still have no reason to trust you." The Awakened looked down at his scrolls again. "Before I was interred in the Wall," he said, "the sworn word of a duVahn was all you would have needed. Now, however, all I can say is... you don't have a choice." The tense, angry silence that followed was broken by a siren, a keening wail that echoed across the city. Gwen's gaze snapped toward the window. "They're *here*!" -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- "What the hell is going on here?!" Kyle gripped the mast desperately, the wind whipping past his face. "This one doesn't know!" The young ninja shouted to be heard over the noise of the creaking deck. "There was no wind at all before now!" "This can't be wind; ships can't move faster than whatever's pushing them! And the sails are-" A sudden vibration under his hands made Kyle's blood run cold, and he looked up at the main sail above him; the Northern Cross's unnatural velocity had changed it from a source of propulsion to a crude parachute. It billowed and shook in the onrushing wind, and the mast echoed its movements, ultimately shaking the deck itself in the process. If this continued, there was a good chance the ship would tear itself apart. With a curse, Kyle quickly unlimbered his lance and, running from one end of the sail to the other, severed the ropes binding it in place. When the last one had been cut, the sail immediately pulled free; it was still tied near the top of the mast, and whipped back and forth as the Northern Cross sped through the water. The crew, coming to the same conclusion, quickly followed suit and freed the other two sails. Though the deck still shuddered, it was out of immediate danger... and, due to the reduced drag, the ship moved even faster. "Very well done," Shizuka commented. "Thanks. Now let's go see Jil and find out what's going on." With difficulty, battered by the wind, the two made their way to the bridge of the Northern Cross, where its Captain was struggling with the wheel. "Aye, 'tis no wind that be doin' this," she said without waiting for the question. "'Tis a current of some kind; it picked us up, heaved us ta port, and has been sweepin' us along ever since." Kyle looked blank. "Port? What port?" "Arr, to th' left, ye landlubber! Near as I kin figure, we be headin' toward Tienne." "*Directly* toward it?" "It be impossible ta say for sure, but aye, it seems like it." "But what kind of current would-? Shouts from the deck below interrupted Kyle's question, and he rushed to the nearby railing; Jil held on to the wheel for a moment then, deciding that she wasn't having any effect anyway, released it and joined the Dragoon. One of the crewmen down below noticed her, and called up. "Captain! There's somethin' under the ship! Somethin' HUGE!" She scowled. "Bah! Another sea monster? I'll make bait out o' th' devil!" She reached for her shuriken... but looked at Shizuka in surprise when the girl laid a restraining hand on her arm. "This one does not believe there will be a need for that," the ninja informed her, and pointed at the prow of the ship. "Look there." Kyle and Jil watched for a moment, then the Dragoon shook his head. "I don't-" With a mighty splash, a gigantic shape rose from the water, keeping pace with the speeding vessel. At first Kyle didn't recognize it, though its translucent, liquid surface seemed oddly familiar... then it turned slightly, and as a giant eye came into view, he realized that what he'd been looking at was the back of the creature's head. His eyes widened. "By the Gods..." "Leviathan!" Jil exclaimed with a gasp. "We be ridin' on the back of *Leviathan*!" The Sleeper spoke, its voice vibrating the ship still caught in its watery body. YOU HAVE DONE WELL, BROTHER OF THE LEGACY, it told him. NOW, HOWEVER, YOU ARE NEEDED ELSEWHERE. "Elsewhere... Tienne?" Suddenly his grip on the Ashura Lance tightened. "Darovan! He's back in Tienne?!" Without responding, Leviathan's head dipped back below the waves, and the massive Sleeper continued its rapid journey toward the distant city. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- The flying mountain cast a heavy shadow over Tienne, which had long since been evacuated. Now the empty streets, still damaged from the previous attack, were filled with a tense silence. Guardsmen and Dragoons stared up at the Manakyr base from their concealed positions, waiting in heart-gripping anticipation. Near what might be called the 'front' of the mountain, a large and ornate chamber protruded somewhat, affording an unparalleled view of the city below. In the center of this room sat a robed man, staring at the defenseless symbol of everything he hated in the world. Without a word, he raised one arm before him. All other eyes in the room were fixed on this, and the world seemed to hold its breath. He closed his hand into a fist. The attack began. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- The silver airships descended in pairs, swooping down toward Tienne. Each ship bore rune-engraved plating on its side, runes that already glowed with stored magical energy. The ships spread out into a dispersed formation as they approached the city, each covering a separate neighborhood. When all were in place, the ships began their attack almost in unison, sending massive bolts of fire and lightning into the buildings below. No mage soldiers or Atma beasts were released; it was clear that the intention was not to conquer, but to destroy. As the airships grew closer to the heart of the city, they came within firing range of the city's cannon towers, hastily repaired and refitted after the previous attack. The cannons fired with huge gouts of smoke, but as before, the shots had little effect. Before the cannonballs could strike the Manakyr ships, they exploded against a translucent shield, a magically-created wall that surrounded and protected the vessels. They continued their assault, destroying entire blocks with their attacks. The silver ships flew at an almost lazy pace, confident in their own invincibility... But on a hill on the far side of Tienne, in a makeshift command center, the new Commander of the Church's armed forces watched the ships advance. He hesitated, waiting for the right moment, then nodded sharply at a nearby soldier, who sent out a command over the radio. The Commander held his breath, watching closely... and then, a few moments later, smiled. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- On the bridge of the Manakyr base, the walls were lined with communication and clairmantic crystals, each manned by highly skilled wizard. These clairmancers were Darovan's link to his army, receiving transmissions and relaying new orders. One of the mages turned from his instruments and faced Darovan. "All ships report negligible damage from the cannons, my Lord," he said. "Our defenses are holding." "Excellent," the ancient wizard murmured. He glanced to his right, addressing another clairmancer. "Is my Legacy there?" The woman hesitated, studying the patterns on her crystal, then shook her head. "No, sir. She isn't within Tienne." "Good. I would hate to endanger her needlessly." He looked back at the window before him... A burst of light below caught his eye, a bloom of red and orange. Almost immediately one of the clairmantic displays began to chime a warning note; the wizard manning it quickly scanned the crystal surface, his eyes darting back and forth. "Sir," he said, "the Firaga reports considerable damage to its hull." Darovan stood, staring at the scene below. "Cause?" "Unknown. It did not correspond to any attack from the surface." "Was there-" Another explosion, and another warning bell. "Sir! The Meteo has suffered heavy damage!" The leader of the Manakyr scowled. "What is going on down there?" -=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Landing lightly, Reill and Martin sprinted over to their stockpile, even as the engines on their Boost Armor recharged for the next jump. Pulling one of the oversized devices into the open, each Dragoon took hold of one of its handles, then exchanged nods of readiness. They looked up at their new partner, indistinguishable from other Dragoons in his crimson armor; he looked hesitant for a moment, then nodded. The third Dragoon leapt first, followed shortly by the others. As they sped upwards toward one of the airships, the lead soldier raised his arms against the rushing wind. "Magical defenses, break and sunder! Debarrier!" A glow of magic surrounded him briefly, then leapt toward the airship; it impacted against the surrounding protective wall, which had been created with the assumption that magic wouldn't be used against it. A hole appeared in the barrier; while it wasn't large, and it wouldn't last long, it was enough. While the Awakened dropped back toward the city, Reill and Martin rushed past him, carefully handling the device between them. They passed through the hole, then cut off their engines, allowing their momentum to carry them the final distance. They positioned their package above them, and when it touched the airship's hull, it stuck there. The two Dragoons checked to make sure it was secure, gave each other a thumbs-up signal, then activated the device and let go, dropping through the hole just before it began to close. They used their Boost engines to control their fall; high above them, the device exploded, its effect only increased as the detonation reflected off the magic wall around the ship. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- "The Thundaga has been hit! Reporting heavy casualties on its lower deck-" "The Ultima says-" "SILENCE!" All eyes turned toward Darovan, who moved to stand at the window. "Order the airships to release their ground troops, then ascend beyond the reach of this attack." "Acknowledged, sir." The clairmancers relayed the order through their crystals, and Darovan scowled at the city below. "The first round is yours," he said to his invisible opponent, "but the end game *will* be mine." -=-=-=-=-=-=-=- "Sir!" The Guardsman looked up from his radio with a grin. "It worked; the airships are dropping troops and rising out of spell range. We did it!" The Commander glanced at him in tense amusement. "We're not out of the woods yet, soldier." "Y-yes, sir... I mean..." "Send out the GOLeMs to meet them. Let the Manakyr use up their heavy weapons on those big boys." "Right away." As the Guard turned back to his radio, High Priestess Cecilina glanced at the Commander. "Are you sure that's wise? The GOLeMs were largely ineffective last time." He nodded. "I'm counting on that, actually. We want them overconfident, thinking we're stuck with the same old tactics. Besides, I'm not so sure they'll be able to tell the difference between Manakyr and Awakened." Cecilina nodded with a faint smile. "True enough." She glanced at him, and her smile broadened. "By the way, dear brother, the uniform suits you." "Thanks a lot," Cid replied sourly, tugging uncomfortably at his collar. "You couldn't have picked anyone else for this? Someone with more seniority in the Dragoons, maybe?" "Perhaps... but none of them have any experience in *using* magic, and I needed someone that wouldn't hesitate. And after all, you *are* a Warrior of Light; so far nobody has objected." He made a face. "Wonderful." A flash of light caught his eye, and he turned toward the window; he could see an impressive display of electrical energy over the city, at the center of which floated a small figure, barely visible at this distance. "Ramuh," he decided, then smiled grimly. "That's it, boys; use 'em up against the GOLeMs, so our human fighters won't have to worry about them." Cid remained at the window, waiting and watching... -=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Far to the north of Tienne, another battle was taking place, though this one was of a much different nature... The gloom rats boiled through the caverns, vicious and insane, even going so far as to invade the dwarven mining colony itself. The repellent they had used for so long was useless against so many of the vermin, not least because the dwarves hadn't been expecting them for another twenty years and hadn't made a full supply. "Ach, 'tis unnatural ta see the beasties so soon!" Watts Stonebreaker swung his massive double-bladed axe, clearing the tunnel before him of gloom rats... though only briefly. "'Tis my fault," his companion rumbled, a (relatively) huge dwarf with thickly coiled muscles. "I shouldn't've left for Dwarvenhome when the Test was nigh." "Nae, don't you worry about that, Olaf Fiendsmiter," Watts reassured him as they fought their way through the shadowy creatures. "The girl did a fine job, or so Obren said. Nae, there be somethin' else amiss here." This statement was proven all too true when the dwarves made their way to the marble chamber at the bottom of the mine and pulled the doors open, only to find the chamber beyond in ruins. Though a few rune-engraved slabs remained intact, most lay scattered across the room... and at the center of it all, Diablos stood with on foot out of his pit, completely unfettered by the barrier that had sealed him in. "FREE!" The massive bat-winged demon stretched his arms, exulting in his newfound liberty. "After So Long, I Am Finally Free!" "This cannae be!" Watts gasped. "Th' runes should've-" "Your Pitiful Runes," Diablos informed him, "Were Enough To Hold Me In My Weakened State... But Now, My Power Has Been Restored!" Olaf growled, brandishing a starsilver axe in each hand. "Back to yer hole, demon!" He leapt at Diablos with a feral snarl... Moving with a speed he had never shown before, the demon snatched the dwarf out of the air and hurled him against the wall. Olaf fell to the ground, unmoving. Despite the famous dwarven stoicism, Watts felt real fear as Diablos turned his monstrous attention toward the dwarf. Then the demon chuckled. "Do Not Worry," he said. "I Will Be Back Soon Enough To Destroy Your Pathetic Village. But Right Now..." Diablos lifted his head, staring upwards. "I Have More Important Things On My Mind." His eyes flared with dark energy, and a cone of intense gravity speared forth; a moment later, ignoring the rubble falling around him, Diablos took to the air, leaving his hated prison behind. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=- As the spider-walker grew closer to Tienne, the nature of the mountain became clear, if only because it wasn't simply near the city, but also *over* it. If there was any confusion as to its origin, the silver airships flying around it would have banished all doubt. "Filthy Manakyr scum," Stine snarled, hand gripping the hilt of his rapier. "The cowards doth think to wreak havoc on Tienne while it is still weakened from their first attack! By this blade, Stine doth swear that they will not prevail!" "You won't get any argument from me," Davin said grimly. "But don't forget our passenger back there; we can't go into battle until we put Piette somewhere safe." Marcine suddenly pointed. "Davin! Look over there!" On a hillside some distance from Tienne, a large collection of tents had been erected, enough to house at least a thousand people. The tents, however, were largely unoccupied; instead, there was a large crowd at the edge of the camp, tensely watching the attack on Tienne. "At least they managed to evacuate everyone before the Manakyr arrived," Davin mused. "It'll do." Manipulating the controls, he turned the spider-walker toward the camp. There were a few Guardsmen at the edge of the crowd, standing with their weapons ready on the off chance that the Manakyr would attack the civilians. They clearly would have preferred to be in the battle themselves, and seemed quite agitated. As the spider-walker clanked to a halt behind them, therefore, it was understandable when they raised their swords, eager to attack if necessary... However, they lost their focus somewhat when the small red-haired girl hopped out of the vehicle as it began to lower its cabin. "Don't just stand there," she snapped. "Get over here and help!" They hesitated, then one of them noticed the tri-fan on the walker's door; they nodded to each other, and quickly approached the vehicle. Mika 'supervised' as Piette was carefully borne from the spider-walker and carried over to one of the tents. If the Guards recognized Marcine as they looked in the walker, they either chose not to mention it, or were somewhat more confused by the presence of the dwarf in the back seat. "What will we do when we get to the city, Davin?" Marcine asked as the young man climbed back into the spider-walker and raised the cabin. "Dunno. I guess we'll have to play it by ear. It looks like the Manakyr are going all out this time, though; you might have to use major magic out in the open." "In front of Guardsmen and Dragoons? They might mistake me for one of the enemy." "I know, but we may not have a choice-" "Hey!" Davin and Marcine peered out of the walker as one of the Guards called up to them. "Are you guys going down there to fight?" "That's the plan," Davin informed him. The Guardsman grinned. "Give 'em one for us!" The elementalist returned the grin. "You got it!" He closed the cabin door and, with the hum of rune-assisted mechanisms, sent the spider-walker scuttling down the hill toward the besieged city. -=-=-=-=-=-=- The squad huddled in their place of concealment, listening with hearts racing as the battle between the Manakyr and GOLeMs raged not too far away. They could only guess how the battle was progressing, but each scream likely meant another Manakyr casualty, and each concussive blast of magic spelled another GOLeM's end. Finally a small device strapped to Gwen's waist, little more than a crude receiver, chirped once, twice, three times. She took a slow breath, then stood up. "That's it. The last of the GOLeMs are down." She glanced at duVahn. "It's safe for you to go out now." The Awakened put away his last scroll. "Safe for all of us, you should say," he replied. "I just hope that you three don't panic when the time comes for me to go to work." Her eyes narrowed. "You just do your job, mage," she shot back. "We can take care of ourselves." "Shh!" Hound raised his hand, listening closely to the street outside. "Sounds like some robes are headed this way." The Guardsmen immediately fell silent, weapons at the ready, and duVahn was impressed in spite of himself at their professional bearing. Even young Vicks, the rookie of the group, was eerily motionless as he waited for his chance to kill... Suddenly Hound dropped his hand, and the three fighters rushed out into the street. There were no taunts exchanged, no threats or demands; their only goal was to see their opponents dead. The Manakyr, caught completely by surprise, fell quickly to the Guards' blades, for even with magical defenses the wizards were no match for steel at close range. However, at *long* range... "Down there!" Another group of Manakyr appeared up the street. "Get them!" Gwen swore and charged toward the mages, her partners close at her heels. Even if they ducked back into the deserted building, they were good as dead. But as the Manakyr began to chant, it was all too clear that the Guards wouldn't reach them in time, and the wizards began to grin in mid-spell. Suddenly a voice behind the Sergeant called out. "Trapped in the moment, reverse the course of mana! Reflect!" A translucent curved wall appeared briefly in front of each of the Guardsmen; seeing this, the astonished Manakyr tried to interrupt their spells, but it was too late. Bolts of fire and lightning leapt from their outstretched hands, only to strike the invisible barriers and be sent back to their casters. Those mages that remained standing were no match for the Guards, and soon dropped to the cobblestones, dead or dying. The Guards, completely unhurt after this exchange, turned to look at the rather smug Awakened as he sauntered up to join them. "And that, I believe, proves my utility?" he suggested. Gwen snorted disdainfully; she was, in fact, grateful for his help, but she was damned if she was going to say it in the face of his arrogance. "Don't strain your arm patting yourself on the back," she snapped. "The day's not over yet." She looked up at the still-hovering mountain. "Not by a long shot." -=-=-=-=-=-=-=- A definite sense of deja vu crept over Davin as he guided the spider-walker through Tienne's streets. The battle was still some distance away, but the sight of ruined buildings and smoke rising form the debris were a grim reminder of both Dwarvenhome and his last visit to Tienne. "So what now, Big Brother?" Mika asked. "Just run in and bust some people up?" Behind her, both Tharlo and Stine seemed to approve of this plan. "I've been thinking about that," Davin admitted. "There's got to be something more we can do to make a difference here." The dwarven king gave that some consideration. "Durin' th' attack on Dwarvenhome," he said finally, "th' Manakyr held a separate cache o' magical supplies nearby. They carefully rationed their Sleeper Eggs, y'see, and their spell rods dinnae hold much magic. Bein' as how th' airships have nae approached the surface, I'm thinkin' they be doin' the same here. Claim that cache, and ye'll limit their firepower." Davin glanced at Tharlo in grim amusement; outside, the shouts and explosions were considerably louder. "In other words, try to take over a fortified Manakyr base of operations containing several wizards with access to a large amount of Eggs, who therefore have the means and the motive to blast us to bits?" "Aye." "Might be worth a try." "Aye. I wish ye well, then. 'Scuze me, young man." He squeezed past Stine, nearly cutting off the Beastmaster's nose with the axe strapped to his waist, and made his way to the door. Mika blinked. "Wha... you're leaving us? It was *your* plan, after all!" "Nae, that be not it. But there be many Manakyr out there, and I've waited long enough ta repay them for slayin' so many o' my kinsmen." He opened the cabin door, then nodded politely to Davin. "I'll catch up with ye later; there be some things that cannae be delayed." The elementalist nodded. "I understand. Be careful." Without another word, the dwarf threw himself out of the walker. "Whoah!" Mika quickly leaned out the door, but Tharlo was nowhere to be seen. "Did you see that? And you guys call *me* impulsive!" "Get back in here," Davin ordered. "We have to figure out where the cache is." The alchemist rolled her eyes. "Duh! That's obvious - it's going to be in the middle of their territory. The more Manakyr we see, the closer we are." There was a pause, then Davin shook his head. "You're right. That *is* obvious. Okay, hang on tight, folks - it's gonna get worse before it gets better." -=-=-=-=-=-=- One of the clairmancers manning the communication crystals frowned in puzzlement. That couldn't be right, could it? It just didn't make sense. He checked his instruments again, and the reports from the ground, but reached the same conclusion regardless. If it were true, it was something of a dilemma. While he was sure Darovan would want to know about this immediately, he was also sure that the ancient wizard had a habit of fatally punishing those that displeased him, even indirectly. Not for the first time, and not the first one to do so, the clairmancer wondered if reviving Darovan might not have been the best possible thing to do... As if on cue, Darovan's voice rang out across the bridge, and it was all the mage could do to keep from wincing. "Sorcerer Almais, report. How does the battle progress?" "Yes, sir." With a sinking heart, Almais stood and turned around. "All GOLeMs have been destroyed, with only moderate use of Eggs. We have taken a quarter of the city, and our forces are gathering to take another quarter. The supply cache is fully guarded; there are only five Eggs remaining, but there are enough spell rods to last the whole battle. We have sustained many casualties among our soldiers, but the Atma beasts are still going strong." "Good. And the enemy casualties?" Almais swallowed nervously. There was no help for it. "...minimal, sir." A sudden silence fell across the bridge, and Darovan slowly got to his feet. "What was that?" "M... minimal. I haven't been able to determine the reason, the reports I've been getting are rather confused, but almost all enemy casualties can be attributed to Atma beasts. Our mages have hardly done any damage!" The leader of the Manakyr walked across the room toward the petrified clairmancer, eventually stopping just behind him. "You had better," he whispered in the mage's ear with infinite malevolence, "be able to explain that." "I wish I could, sir," he said with feeling. "The, the reports from the ground just don't make sense. They say that their spells are just bouncing back from the Guardsmen, as if they had Reflect cast upon them. But that's impossible! The only thing I could guess is that they've come up with some kind of Mystic Art that duplicates that effect, but even that wouldn't..." A sound erupted behind him, something far more frightening than Darovan's soft snarl: The ancient mage was laughing. The assembled clairmancers exchanged glances nervously as Darovan chuckled in helpless humor, and Almais decided it was up to him to make the next move. "Um... sir?" Shaking his head, Darovan straightened up. "Don't you see?" he asked with a chuckle. "No, of course not; you all take too much for granted." He turned to face the window, staring at the distant Cathedral. "Oh, how quickly the mighty Church forgoes its vaunted 'morals'..." He whirled around and returned to his chair, still on a capricious high. "Contact our mages. This is what they must do..." -=-=-=-=-=-=- "This... this is horrible!" Marcine gripped the Phoen Staff tightly. "So much destruction..." The spider-walker made its way through the rubble-strewn streets, passing over numerous crumpled bodies and even the occasional dead Atma beast. Ancient buildings, nearly as old as Tienne itself, has been reduced to mere debris by the Manakyr's initial assault, and the running close-combat battles hadn't helped either. "This is what Darovan does," Davin replied in a tight voice. "He destroys everything he touches. It's no wonder the Church took such a hard stance against magic after seeing the way he uses it..." Stine, standing over Davin's shoulder, frowned slightly as he peered outside. "That be odd..." "What?" "In all the carnage and the fallen, Stine hath noticed very few Guardsmen." "Huh?" Davin looked to the street again as the walker lumbered along. Now that he knew what to look for, he found that the Beastmaster was right; the number of Manakyr bodies far outnumbered dead Guards and Dragoons. "But how'd that happen?" he wondered. "Last time the mages definitely had the upper hand. Why is there such a turnaround now?" "I dunno," Mika said, "but whatever it is, I hope it keeps up." "Me too," the elementalist agreed. "We need a-" A heavy metallic thump shook the cabin, and Davin struggled to maintain his grip on the controls. "What the-?" Another thump, causing the spider-walker to stumble briefly. "Darn it, Big Brother, watch out for those potholes!" "It's not me," he protested. "Something's hitting us!" Marcine craned to look out the front window; the street in front of them was empty. "I don't see anything." "Hold on, I'll check out back." Mika got to her feet, opened the cabin's door, and leaned out. A moment later she pulled herself back in and carefully closed the door. "Well?" Davin asked, still maintaining course against the heavy impacts. "What did you see?" The young alchemist took a deep breath. "Trouble." Behind and beneath the spider-walker ran a herd of Atma beasts, at least thirty of the feline creatures. They chased the vehicle closely, snarling and howling; occasionally one would forcefully ram one of the spindly legs, or leap up to slam against the cabin itself. As sturdy as the walker was, it couldn't withstand punishment like that for long. As more Atma beasts joined the pack, the frequency of the impacts increased, and one particularly large creature caused the walker to list to the side as it rounded a corner, scraping the side of a building in the process. The falling masonry did nothing to impede the beasts, and they continued their frenzied chase. "If this keeps up," Davin muttered, "we're going to wind up as pet food." He shot a glance toward the chair next to him. "Marcine?" She shook her head. "There's just too many of them; my spells would have much less effect, and they seem to be resistant to magic in the first place." "I'll take care of 'em!" Scampering to the back of the cabin, Mika rooted through their belongings, finally pulling out the bomb launcher she'd built in Dwarvenhome. "Heh heh... this oughta do the job." Davin risked a look behind him. "Mika, you still haven't tested that thing, have you?" "No time like the present." Selecting a rather large vial, she dropped it into the launcher's holding chamber and returned to the door... ...which was now open, a certain Beastmaster standing within it. "Hey! Get outta my way, you twerp!" He ignored her, raising his hands toward the beasts. "Stine hath the ability to control the beasts," he explained. "Mayhaps he can pacify the horde..." "There's no time for that, you hick!" Mika insisted. "C'mon, let me through! Are you too stupid to understand a simple order like that?" Stine's brow twitched in annoyance. He'd exhibited a heroic amount of patience since they'd left Dwarvenhome, but now... "This shall take naught but a moment. Sit thyself down and shut thyself up, little girl!" "WHAT did you call me?!" "Knock it off, you two!" Davin snapped, eyes fixed on the road ahead. "Someone do *something*!" Though briefly tempted to test her launcher on the thick-headed Beastmaster, Mika chose instead to sulk. "Fine! Have it your way!" She whirled around to stomp back to her chair. Unfortunately, this motion inadvertently swung the launcher as well, smacking the business end against the still-concentrating Stine. It proved to be just enough to send him falling forward, right into the middle of the pack below. Mika quickly returned to the doorway just as the beasts gave up their chase in favor of investigating their new toy. An arm was briefly visible among the mass of bodies, then nothing. "Whoops," she breathed. Thinking quickly, she glanced to the front of the cabin; finding that Davin and Marcine were still focused on the street, she raised her voice. "No, Stine! Don't do it! There's too many of them! Noooooo!" A moment later she closed the door, striving to look as concerned as she could. "What happened?" Davin asked without looking back. "Sorry, Big Brother! I tried to stop him, but Stine just jumped into the middle of 'em!" "What?! Why?" "I dunno; I think he got the idea from Tharlo. You know how big he is on honor and valor and all that junk. Go figure." "Well, that's just great. Now it's down to the three of us again." "At least the monsters stopped following," Marcine offered. Mika nodded solemnly. "We'll never forget his brave sacrifice." -=-=-=-=-=-=- The Manakyr soldier put his communications crystal away and turned to the other members of his group. "Okay, you heard the order. Time to change our tactics a little." "Are you sure it'll work?" one of his subordinates asked nervously. "It sounds good in theory, but I'd hate to find out that-" "Look, this comes from Darovan himself, okay? He's forgotten more spells than you and I put together will ever learn. If he says it'll work, I believe him." "Well then, let's..." He paused, raising his head puzzlement. "Do you hear that?" "What, sort of a crunching noise?" "More like... screams..." Suddenly the wall of the building next to them exploded outward, throwing masonry across the street and sending the group of mages into disarray. Two massive figures rushed through the hole at a slowing trot; the screams were coming from them, or at least from what they were carrying. Before the Manakyr could pick themselves back up, the creatures slammed into the opposite wall... but this one managed to hold rather than break, and they came to a rather abrupt halt. There was a brief moment as everyone caught their breath, then one of the women being carried by the bull-headed monsters pulled herself free and, picking up a hunk of rock, bashed it against the beast's head repeatedly; this seemed to make little difference. "You idiot!" she raged. "Walls mean you STOP! Do you understand? WALLS ARE FOR STOPPING!" "Sorry, miss," it replied contritely between blows. "Hey, so they suck at slowing down," the armor-clad girl riding the other creature's shoulders commented. "I told you it wasn't going to be fun; cut 'em some slack." A groan arose from the third, rather limp woman in the group. "I think I'm gonna be sick..." The rock shattered against Minotaur's head, and Zarela looked around for a bigger one. "You could have killed me, you stupid-" "Don't worry," a new voice said coldly. "We'll finish the job for him." The swordswoman turned around curiously; the mages, having noticed the tri-fan emblazoned on her armor, stood in formation a good distance away. They raised their spell rods threateningly... Her face lit up. "Manakyr!" She rushed forward and grabbed the lead wizard's hand in giddy excitement; he was too stunned to resist. "Oh, I am so very happy to see you!" The mage hesitated. "You... you are?" "Of course! It's been simply *ages* since I killed a heretic; I was afraid I was going to lose my touch." He pulled free in a panic, but it was too late; in one smooth movement she drew her Ashura blade and stabbed him through the chest, then went on to kill two of his compatriots before his body fell to the ground. The battle was over in mere seconds; standing over the motionless bodies, blood staining her blade and armor, Zarela bounced once or twice with a girlish giggle. "That was fun! Oh, but there's more down there, Alexandros! Let's go say hello!" She sprinted down the street, then turned and waved. "Come along, slowpokes! If you don't hurry, I won't save any for you!" And then she was gone. As Lumina and a recovered Pearl stared at where she had been, a new chorus of screams emerged from around the corner. "Just say the word," the Moon Knight offered. "Trust me; I know insanity, and she's one grade A nutcase. Just give me the signal, and I'll wipe her brain again." "I'll think about it," Pearl promised. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Word had apparently gotten around about the 'invincible' groups of Guardsmen walking around, and the Manakyr were resorting to less direct means; twice the squad had been attacked by wizards perched in otherwise inaccessible locations casting long-range spells. Fortunately, duVahn proved he wasn't only limited to defensive spells, and returned fire on the snipers. Thus far, the squad had managed to avoid serious injury, and the red mage's healing spells were enough to take care of any minor ones. They can, therefore, be forgiven for their overconfidence when they saw the group of Manakyr out in the open. "There's some!" Vicks shouted. "C'mon, let's go get 'em!" Hound grinned, riding a wave of adrenalin. "Don't have to tell me twice!" As duVahn's spell wrapped around them, the three Guards rushed the Manakyr; however, though they seemed nervous, they were hardly panicking, and only one of them had begun to cast. Something wasn't right. "Hold on," duVahn called quickly. "They're up to something-" "TRIBOLT!" The blast of lightning erupted from the Manakyr's hands... and arced the short distance to his companions, where it split and bounced off their own magical barriers. The reflected spell lanced through the air and grounded itself in the Guardsmen, who were thrown back by the sheer power of the attack. DuVahn swiftly ran forward, pulling the sergeant out of the way of another reflected blast; Vicks and Hound were not so lucky, and lay twitching in the street. He helped her behind a broken wall, which began to shake a moment later as the Manakyr focused their attention on breaking it down. "What happened, mage?" she snarled. "Where's your perfect defense when we need it?" He looked visibly shaken. "I... I don't know. It should have worked, unless..." He blinked in surprise. "Polarization!" "What?" "If they cast Reflect on themselves and direct their spells in the same way, then the magic would become polarized in accordance with the Third Rule of Transmutative Energies. Thus, rather than creating a continuous feedback loop, the spell would penetrate the second barrier it encounters; it's a rather ingenious-" "Enough talk! Can you do something about it?" He hesitated, then nodded. "I can... but only if you stand up." Seeing the anger build in her eyes, he raised his hands placatingly. "Trust me." Gwen glared at him a moment longer, then stood up. The Manakyr spotted her, and began to cast. "Trust me," duVahn repeated, and held his hands toward her. "Flames of the earth, fires of the sun..." -=-=-=-=-=-=- The sight of the mountain, so definitely above Tienne, confirmed Kyle's fears, and he paced the deck anxiously. Leviathan was carrying the Northern Cross to the city faster than he could possibly have hoped, but even so every second seemed like hours. "Take it easy, boyo." Jil had abandoned all pretense of steering the ship, and was relaxing on a coil of rope. "Ye're wearin' a hole in the wood." "How can you be so calm?" he snapped. "Right now Darovan and his followers are laying waste to Tienne for the second time!" "Aye. But there be nothin' we can do about it, and with any luck we'll be there in time ta do somethin' about it. So there be no sense in workin' yourself up about it." "Mistress Fallensand is correct," Shizuka politely assured him. "This one thinks you would be better served preparing for the battle ahead, both mentally and physically." The Dragoon took a deep breath. "You're right. It's just so hard to wait..." "Ship ahoy!" With a scowl, Jil hopped to her feet and glared at the sailor stationed on the upper deck - nobody was crazy enough to man the crow's nest at the moment. "Are ye daft? I don't think we need worry about some other ship at this speed!" "You better see this, Captain," he said, his eyes fixed on the horizon. "It's not just *one* ship." Frowning, Jil produced a spyglass and extended it, then scanned the starboard horizon. Finally she gasped. "'Tis a fleet! An armada! But... that flag..." She lowered the glass, looking confused. "Them? Here? But why?" Taking the glass from her unresisting hand, Shizuka looked through it, viewing the distant ships. "If this one is correct," she said, "they are here to help." -=-=-=-=-=-=-=- "Sir!" Sorcerer Almais turned around in his chair with a smile. "It's working; Church casualties have greatly increased, and our own losses have diminished." Darovan simply nodded. "Continue the attack; move the Atma beasts further out while our mages regroup." "Understood." The ancient wizard sat back in his chair, smiling to himself. So typical of the Church; as soon as it suited their needs, they were all too willing to embrace magic as their own. Even after all these years, their hypocrisy ran strong. Well, no matter. If they wished to duel with magics, he could teach them volumes on that score... "Lord Darovan!" Another clairmancer called to him, not looking up from her display. "We've detected the presence of the Legacy within Tienne." He looked at her sharply. "Are you certain?" "Yes, sir. She's currently within our occupied territory." A malicious grin appeared on his face. "Perfect. Send out the order that she is to be captured unharmed; any companions may be disposed of." "Right away." Darovan tapped his chin. "But perhaps a lesson is in order, for her as much as for the Church." He regarded the cityscape laid out below him, then pointed at a certain landmark. "Take us closer to... there." -=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Away from Tienne, in a hidden cavern somewhere in the mountains, Siegvin sat in meditation. The two Ashura blades lay at his sides, and his collected Heartstones dangled from the wall before him, suspended by a complex iron lattice. Time passed silently, Siegvin's slow measured breaths the only sound in the cavern... He lifted his head. Something wasn't right. "I don't take well to uninvited guests," he announced as he stood, taking up his swords. "Particularly those who sneak in unannounced." A low, inhuman chuckle echoed through the cave. "It was never my intention to sneak up on you, Fallen One," the voice said, every syllable dripping with sarcasm. "I merely did not wish to disturb you unduly." Siegvin recognized the voice, though this fact did nothing to reassure him. "How very considerate of you. One would almost think you cared." Without warning, he turned around and swung the red blade in his hand; a crescent of energy shot out toward a dark corner of the cavern, and exploded against an unseen target. The sudden burst of light briefly illuminated a massive creature with oily-black skin and a huge, fanged mouth in the middle of its chest. He lowered his blade a fraction of an inch. "Blight," he said, his voice cold as ice. "Demon of ruin and decay. It has been quite some time since our paths last crossed." Another chuckle. "Hmm... true, but not as long as you think, I suspect." There was a shifting, leathery sound... ...and into the torchlight walked a frail old man, wearing simple robes; someone that Siegvin had last seen in an Ashgar alleyway. "You?" The old man bowed with a smile. "Are you surprised?" he asked, his voice fully human. "Surprised only that one of the most powerful demons would deign to disguise himself as a mere mortal," Siegvin replied, never lowering his sword. Blight merely shrugged. "We have been greatly... reduced since the time of the Sealing, my people and I. Surely you of all people can understand that." The Fallen Sleeper was unmoved. "And now, maddened by the rush of your restored power, you wish to challenge me for the trinkets I've collected. How very predictable." He raised the blades into position. "And how very futile." The disguised demon shook his head. "Do not be so quick to assume, Odin. I am here for neither the swords nor the Stones." "Then speak your peace and begone; I have no time for guessing games." "Such venom," the demon chided. "There is no need for us to be enemies. Would it shock you to learn that our goals are not wholly different from your own?" Suddenly the black Ashura blade was at the demon's throat. "Do you take me for a fool?" Siegvin demanded. "I take you," Blight replied carefully, "for a man of determination. The path you follow will indeed spell the doom for my people... unless you choose to spare us." "And why should I do that?" "Because of the girl." Siegvin hesitated, and the demon smiled. "Yes... even if you succeed in your plans, she can undo it all with but one simple spell." The sword was lowered, and Siegvin stalked away as though Blight were beneath his notice. "I will dispose of the girl when the need arises," he scoffed. "Can you indeed, Odin?" his visitor pressed. "She has eluded you thus far, and continues to gather formidable companions around her." When there was no reply, the demon changed tactics. "Before you decide, however, allow me to give you... this." A steel gauntlet, plain and unadorned, appeared in the air before Siegvin. He stopped in place, motionless, then reached out for the object reverently; it fell into his hand without ceremony. "This is..." "A mere token of our sincerity," Blight interjected smoothly. Siegvin held the gauntlet for a long moment, any emotions well hidden behind the mask he wore. Finally, he spoke, a bit hoarsely. "Very well, demon. Your gift pleases me. Slay the girl, and your future is assured; afterwards, I'm sure I could find a use for my trusted servants." The demon bowed, an obsequious smile on his face. "Consider it done... my Lord." Blight vanished as quickly as he had appeared, leaving the Fallen Sleeper alone in his sanctum once more. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=- The pack of Atma beasts, telepathically 'nudged' by the clairmancers above, raced through the streets of Tienne, a ravenous swarm that spelled instant destruction to anything in its path. But something was wrong. There was a disturbance in the middle of the pack, movement where there should not have been. Even the unintelligent beasts were slowly becoming aware of this... Then, like a mighty whale suddenly rising from the ocean, the largest Atma beast leapt forward from the pack. On its back, battered and scraped but still whole, Beastmaster Stine rode tall and proud. "Forward, noble creatures!" he called. "Forward, for the glory of the Church!" Though such rhetoric was lost on the Atma beasts, a simple instinct lingered in their minds - follow the pack leader. Though it wouldn't last long, this was enough to override the commands of the Manakyr. Stine's newfound companions continued their journey through the city, but under, as it were, new management. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=- The Manakyr had assumed their battle would be a repeat of the one previous - an unqualified success. The use of magic by the Church had temporarily lost them the advantage, but with the instruction of their leader, they managed to reverse the situation and regain the upper hand. Nevertheless, they hadn't been prepared for anything like Tharlo. Extremely tough, immensely strong, and nearly invulnerable to even reflected magic with his runic axe, the dwarven king barely slowed as he hewed his way through the Manakyr ranks. He sang a song of mourning as he went, remembering the dead of his home while avenging their souls. In short (so to speak), he went through the mages like a knife through warm butter. Even Atma beasts gave him little pause; he could defeat any one of them in single combat, though he was seeing them in groups more often the further he got. Of course, the Manakyr could have easily outdistanced him if they chose to run - dwarves weren't built for speed - but rumors of how Darovan punished cowards made them hesitate before taking such drastic action. Having cleared another group of mages, Tharlo mopped his brow and looked around idly. There weren't any Manakyr in sight; perhaps it was time for a little rest... No. There was one. The Manakyr stood partially in hiding behind a broken statue, preparing what seemed to be a powerful spell. He hadn't noticed the dwarf yet, his eyes fixed on the group of Guardsmen he clearly intended to ambush. He raised his arms to complete the spell... "Laliho, Manakyr." He started to turn, saw a flash of metal, and that was all he ever knew. "That be for little Grizelda Axecrafter," he told the corpse grimly. He bowed his head for a moment, then lifted it and nodded pleasantly to the nearby Guard, who had looked around at hearing the mage's death cry. "Top o' th' mornin' to ye, lad." The Guard stared at him uncomprehendingly... "Vicks! Get over here already, would you?" He turned toward Hound instinctively; when he looked back, the dwarf was gone. Trotting back to the others, he briefly considered telling them about what he saw, but decided not to. They wouldn't believe it. For that matter, *he* didn't believe it. When he reached his fellow Guards, the same argument he had left was continuing. "All I'm saying, duVahn," Gwen insisted, "is that you could have at least *warned* me you were going to bounce a spell off my face." The Awakened shrugged. "I would have, but you seemed to think that the time for talking had passed." She glowered at him, and flinched when Hound laid a hand on her shoulder. "Don't sweat it, Gwen," he said. "Everyone's okay, and we know that they've figured out how to get past duVahn's spell, right? Let's just keep going." The sergeant sniffed. "Fine, whatever. I could almost feel my eyebrows singeing, that's all I'm saying..." "Hey, Sarge..." Vicks began in a worried voice. "I think... there's somethin' goin' on up there..." The Guardsmen looked up toward the mountain... -=-=-=-=-=-=-=- "Big Brother! Look down there!" He craned to see. "What? What is it? More Atma beasts?" "Nah, it's a bunch of Guardsmen!" She waved her hands. "Hey, guys! Good luck!" Despite her nervousness, Marcine managed a smile. "I don't think they can hear you, Mika." "Should I shout louder?" She turned back to the window... then suddenly looked around herself. "Where's my launcher?!" "What?" "Where is it? There's a wizard starting to cast a spell on them!" Marcine peered out the window; sure enough, a red-garbed man was standing on the roof of a small house, overlooking the street. He was gesturing, and the Guards hadn't noticed him yet. But... Mika lifted her weapon and started to open the cabin door. "Wait, Mika!" Marcine said quickly. "Whaaaaaat?! C'mon, I wanna shoot *something*!" "The mage isn't casting a harmful spell! In fact-" As they watched, green threads of light spilled down from the mage's fingers and wrapped around the bedraggled Guards; when the light faded, they looked much less the worse for wear, and cheered up at him. Davin blinked in surprise. "He healed them? Is he a Manakyr traitor?" "He wasn't wearing Manakyr robes," Marcine reminded him. "There's another of them!" Mika called, and pointed out a red mage alongside a squad of Guardsmen, making their way through the rubble. The elementalist looked startled, then a slow grin spread across his face. "I'll be damned. The Church is actually working with mages!" Marcine, too, was stunned. "That's unbelievable! Do you know what this means?" Mika caught her up in a quick hug. "It means you don't have to be afraid any more!" she said cheerfully. She then paused, considering. "Well, except for about Darovan and Siegvin and everything." Suddenly the spider-walker shook as a nearby mage - a distinctly unfriendly one - decided to target the vehicle with a spell as it rushed past. "It looks like we're getting closer," Davin decided. "There's definitely more Manakyr in this area." "Yeah, and they've started taking potshots at us, too," Mika added; as if on cue, a bolt of fire struck the spider-walker's hull. "Maybe we should ditch the walker and go the rest of the way on foot?" "Good call. Help me look for a place to park..." Then the rumbling started. It was mostly just a noise, with little physical vibration, but nevertheless it was all encompassing. "What the heck is that?" Davin wondered. "I *told* you to be careful of potholes." He ignored this, guiding the walker to a halt. "Open the door so we can see where it's coming from." "Got it." Mika scampered over to the cabin door and pulled it open... then immediately covered her ears. "Too loud!" she shouted, as the noise filled the vehicle. "Can you tell what's causing it?" Davin called back. "I don't know! It sounds like it's coming from... above...!" -=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Causing the very air to shudder as it floated along, buoyed by a fantastic amount of magic, the mountain crept toward its target... -=-=-=-=-=-=-=- They had become separated from Zarela as the swordswoman pranced down the street in search of more victims; Pearl regarded this as a mixed blessing. On the one hand, Zarela attracted far more attention than she would have liked, and she just wasn't at home with that kind of wholesale slaughter. On the other hand, the presence of the kill-crazy warrior would certainly have prevented the situation they were currently in. Pearl and Lumina crouched behind a ruined wall as a squad of Manakyr tried, with increasing success, to blast it down. The Moon Knight's powers would normally have been enough to handle them, but as she informed Pearl, the presence of the intensely magical mountain overhead interfered with her abilities in all kinds of ways. Some distance away, Minotaur and Sacred had vanished under a pile of about a dozen Atma beasts. Considering the occasional shouts of "Quit it!" emerging from within, they were probably okay... but they were definitely unavailable. "You're sure you can't do anything?" Pearl shouted over the sound of the blasts. Lumina nodded, idly brushing fragments of mortar off her shoulder. "It's not just the magic. Anything that big floating nearby has enough mass to overshadow the moon's influence, which destabilizes my powers. If I tried something, literally *anything* could happen." Another explosion shook the rapidly crumbling wall. "It might be worth a try!" "Pearl, 'anything' also includes turning all humans on the planet into warm oatmeal. With raisins." "...oh." "How about your Beastlores? Any good?" She shook her head. "Nothing that would help much here, I'm afraid. I've never gone in for the high-powered attacks." The Knight nodded. "Well, it was fun while it lasted, but it would take a miracle to get us out of this one..." A sudden rumbling down the street caught the Manakyr's attention, and they paused in their attack just long enough to see the source; a pack of Atma beasts, charging directly toward them. Confident that the beasts would pass them by, they returned their attention to the wall... then, as one, stopped and looked back at the creatures in frank confusion. The beasts trotted to a halt then, from the back of the lead creature, Beastmaster Stine ceremoniously drew his starsilver rapier, which gleamed in the light. He took a deep breath, and the world seemed to pause... "Finally," he began, "Stine... hath come *back*... to Tienne!" Stine! Pearl's heart immediately began to race. As the stunned Manakyr had failed to respond to his appearance, the Beastmaster continued. "Stine hath faced many hardships in his travels. Stine hath journeyed to distant lands, and Stine hath seen wonders without number. When the citizens of the Church didst cry for help, the Citizen's Champion didst heed the call. Heretics large and small didst fear his name, and he did much good in the Church's name." He paused, and lowered his rapier slightly. "Yet... Stine hath also grown, and hath learned the value of mercy and tolerance, where once only duty and hatred held sway. In time, Stine doth hope to unlearn his old habits, and no longer see heresy where, in fact, there is none." Then he scowled, and leveled his sword at the mages. "But know this: those that wouldst side with the fiend Darovan against the Holy Church be heretics true, and shall find no quarter here. Thou dost be foul purveyors of Injustice, whist Stine is a harbinger of Justice! And as the Injust seek to flee their fate..." He raised his blade high. "...so shall the Just... BRING IT!" The Manakyr recognized this threat for what it was, and immediately began to chant... but Stine lowered his sword in a sharp motion, and with a wordless command the Atma beasts lunged toward the defenseless mages. It was over so quickly that the pack was forced to keep running, else the lead creatures would have been trampled by the ones behind. For his part, Stine seemed more than willing to continue his Atma-back journey through the city... Pearl quickly stood up from behind the wall. "Stine!" His head snapped around. "Frau Lassenkirche!" The Beastmaster quickly got to his feet and, jumping from one creature to another, made his way to the edge of the pack and leapt down to the ground. Stumbling, he regained his balance just as Pearl raced over and leapt into his arms. They embraced for what seemed like years, though it was actually more like seconds; just long enough for Minotaur and Sacred, freed after the Atma beasts attacking them had joined the pack, to get to their feet. Finally Stine and Pearl pulled away from the embrace and regarded each other fondly. "What art thou doing here, beloved?" She shook her head with a laugh. "It's a long, long story, Stine dear." She paused, then looked at him closely. "Stine... did you really mean what you said about heretics?" He hesitated, then looked down. "Stine doth still be trying to understand it himself, but... he hath followed the code of the Church all his life. If, however, that code was... misguided, then Stine must be more flexible than he was before." Pearl smiled. "Stine..." "Boy, you sure can pick the weird ones, can't you?" Lumina dusted herself off as she came out from behind the wall, Minotaur and Sacred moving to stand behind her protectively. "You're one to talk," Pearl replied with a grin. Stine peered at the girl. "Who might this be?" With a bright smile, she bowed to him. "I am the Knight of the Moon, and my name is Lumina." "Thou'rt a Knight of the Round?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "I am indeed. And-" Suddenly she stopped, her eyes growing wide, and whirled around to stare up at the Manakyr base. "No..." she whispered. "Not that! Not THAT!" -=-=-=-=-=-=-=- "Land ho! Tienne dead ahead!" "Finally!" Kyle leapt to his feet, quickly taking up the Ashura Lance. Jil noted his anxiousness, but chose not to comment this time; he hadn't been able to protect Tienne in the first attack, so it was only natural that he'd want to come to grips with the enemy as soon as possible. As they and Shizuka prepared to disembark, they felt a lurch as the Lucky Star began to slow down. Leviathan lifted his head from the water, and swivelled it around to look at Kyle. YOU STILL HAVE THE EGG? The Dragoon patted the pouch at his belt; the Sleeper's gift was secure. "Right here." GOOD. IT IS VERY IMPORTANT THAT YOU GIVE IT TO THE LEGACY, AND THAT SHE TAKE IT TO THE NORTHERN CHANNEL. THE EGG WILL GUIDE HER WAY. "I understand." GOOD LUCK TO YOU, THEN. With that, the Sleeper sank back beneath the waves... and a moment later the ship was released from Leviathan's grip, and shook as the unnatural speed gradually faded. They were near the Tienne harbor now... but not near enough. Jil judged the distance to the port. "Har, 'twill be a full ten minutes afore we can dock. 'Tis a bit difficult when yer sails be untied and tangled as they are..." Kyle shook his head. "We can't wait that long. I'll ferry us over with my Boost Armor-" "No, ye won't," Jil informed him firmly. "Ye'll not be doin' anyone any good if ye end up at the bottom of the bay." "But-!" "I know ye want to help," she interrupted, not unkindly. "But the battle won't end in the next few minutes; just be a bit more patient, lad." "Captain!" The lookout called down to them. "There's trouble happenin' with that big rock!" The three companions looked up, and saw the light. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Zarela was a bit troubled. Everywhere around her, there were fallen Manakyr, dead Guards, blood, ashes, and dismembered bits as far as the eye could see. It was a sight to turn the stomach of a strong man... So why wasn't she having that much *fun*? Oh, it was enjoyable, but the rush she used to feel was gone. There was warm satisfaction, even exhilaration. She just didn't feel that wave of giddy pleasure she'd grown accustomed to. It must have been something that little brat did to her. Ever since she left Kirin's tower, Zarela had been thinking... differently. More clearly, for one thing. It was getting harder to remember how she used to be... and maybe that was for the best. A blast of ice impacted near her feet, and she looked up in annoyance. A group of Manakyr had found her... though word had spread fast, and they were justifiably keeping their distance. She sighed. "I can't believe I'm going to say this, but I'm getting tired of killing you people. All right, then - who's first?" The wizards looked at each other, then one stepped forward. "I'll take care of this - I've been dying to try this one out." Zarela smirked. "Could be." As the mage raised his hands, she barreled toward him, Ashura blade raised to kill. "Abate, flow of time, and trap my enemy in thy eternal hourglass! Stop!" Almost immediately, Zarela went from a dead run to a complete and motionless halt. The Manakyr, most of whom had been cringing in panic, straightened up and grinned at each other, slapping their companion on the back. "Nice job!" He wiped his brow on the sleeve of his robe. "It was nothing," he replied modestly. One of the Manakyr, a rather surly-looking individual, bravely approached the frozen swordswoman and waved his hand in front of her face. "She's helpless!" He tilted his head and looked at Zarela in a different light. "Not too hard on the eyes, neither..." "That's not what we're here for," one of the others reminded him. "Aw, c'mon. There's nothin' that says we can't have a little fun..." A new voice, at about waist height, interjected. "Ye boys don't know how ta treat a lady, do ye?" When the spell wore off, Zarela resumed her forward sprint, only to stumble over the body of one of the Manakyr. She fell, her armor scraping against the cobblestones and striking up sparks. After a moment she started to pick herself up, muttering curses. A hand took hold of her arm with a gentle tug. "Let me help ye up there, lass." She turned around, then blinked in puzzlement at the short, muscular, bearded and armored figure before her, with his metal hand and wizened features. Zarela stared at him for a long moment, then said the first thing that came to mind. "Nice axe." "Thank ye. 'Twas crafted by my great-grandfather, D'hrain Stormblade, for use in th' Third Goblin Wars. It has been passed down in my family for twenty five hundred years, and has been spoke of in song and saga." Zarela presented the azure Ashura blade for inspection. "This is Alexandros. I found him somewhere. He likes walks on the beach, rainy afternoons, and drinking the blood of heretics." Tharlo nodded pleasantly. "'Tis a good blade." The swordswoman beamed at him. "I like you!" Then the light began. It was an eerie, crimson light, and it came from above. Zarela lifted her head, trying to find the source. "What is that? Some kind of magic?" Having seen a great deal over his long life, and in fact being quite familiar with this particular light, Tharlo's blood ran cold. "Aye," he breathed. "Oh, aye, that it is." -=-=-=-=-=-=-=- "We're in position, sir." Darovan slowly got to his feet, his burning eyes fixed on the target he had chosen. "Give it to me." Standing beside him, an Evoker held out a small red sphere, offering it as if it were a holy relic... which, in a very real sense, it was. Darovan took it, smirked as he regarded his reflection in its surface, then turned and walked toward a raised platform near the vast window. "The Church clings so tightly to their precious Gods," he announced; as he stepped onto the platform, metal rings, each engraved with potent runes, began to rise around him. "Let them see exactly what they are worshiping." He held out the sphere, which hovered in place before him, and raised his arms. "From thy eternal slumber, I call to thee..." The rings slowly began to spin around him, glowing softy with magic. "...Blaze Tyrant, Harbinger of Ruin, I summon thee..." All activity on the bridge had stopped to watch this epic event. The rings continued to twirl, amplifying his power, multiplying it, tapping into the energy holding the mountain aloft... "Obey me, Ifrit! Obey me, Avatar of the Inferno! In the name of the Manakyr, I command thee!" A crimson light gathered around him and quickly intensified, glowing brightly enough to illuminate the streets below... "Gather the heart of the True Fire and bring devastation upon my hated enemies!" The power rushed around him, building to the inevitable climax... And Darovan pointed, with a fierce grin of triumph, at the Grand Cathedral of the Three Gods, far below. "HELLFIRE!" -=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Halfway between the mountain and the Cathedral, a pinprick of light flared to life. It quickly expanded, faltered, then raged outward into a roiling fireball, floating in the air. Within the blaze, barely visible behind the flames, a massive turned gently, curled into a ball. The eyes in its wickedly horned head began to glow even brighter than the fires, it tensed its muscles... And then, in one mighty burst, Ifrit broke free. All legends of demons seemed to point to this one figure; a gigantic, cloven- footed beast wreathed in flames. He roared defiantly, and began to turn toward the mountain above... but the magic of the Calling stayed his hand, forcing him to focus his attention on the chosen target. The mighty fire demon raised his claws over his head, gathering in them a huge fireball. He tossed it down toward the Cathedral, quickly following it with two more. Fueled as he was by the magic amplifier, Ifrit's attacks easily smashed through the ancient building's walls, destroying in an instant what had lasted for a thousand years. Again and again he battered the Cathedral, his face twisted into a mask of rage and frustration as he tried to break free of Darovan's control. Finally, as the Cathedral lay burning, Ifrit moved his hands apart and down to his sides... then sharply gestured upwards. At this, a titanic column of flame, wider than the Cathedral itself, speared up from the ground. The horrific blaze, clearly visible to those taking refuge on the hills around Tienne, climbed up through the clouds and seemed to go on for hours. When the fire at last abated, and Ifrit had disappeared from whence he came, there was nothing on that ancient hilltop but ashes and charred stones. Within a few brief seconds, the very symbol of the Church had been completely and utterly annihilated. And Darovan smiled. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=- In his sanctum, Siegvin still stood, clutching the gauntlet given to him by the demon, Blight. Any onlooker would have had no insight as to the memories, the emotions that surged through him at the return of this artifact... The Fallen Sleeper began to chuckle. 'Trusted servant', indeed! As if he would be fool enough to trust a demon. Siegvin wasn't sure exactly what game the demons were playing, but they obviously thought they could manipulate him. He highly doubted they would approach him out of simple fear. Well, perhaps it would be best to play along for the moment. Let them think he'd fallen for their little display of play-acting. If they did manage to kill the girl, so much the better. He would be far better situated to deal with them after she was gone. In the meantime, their 'gift'... He had been a different man the last time he'd worn the gauntlet, but it still fit him perfectly. He flexed his fingers, and noted for the first time how easily it moved with him, with no sense of awkwardness or bulk. Finally he raised his hand and said simply, "Here." There were no pyrotechnics, no crass light displays. There was simply a brief clatter of hooves, then the massive horse gently faded into view. It trotted toward him and stopped, pressing its nose against him familiarly. It was a beautiful creature, milky white in color, with a smattering of dark spots on its back and flanks giving it an Appaloosa-like appearance. It wore heavy plate barding, unique in its design; it had to be, to accommodate the steed's six legs. Siegvin rubbed the horse's neck fondly; as he did so, he could feel a trace of his old power return to him. It was only the merest taste of what he used to be, but he could still feel it filling his mortal shell, renewing him. "Yes, old friend," he said to the horse. "We're together again, after all these years." Sleipnir whinnied softly, taking comfort in its master's voice. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=- AUTHOR'S NOTES Wow. It feels good to write a chapter in which something actually *happens*. Unfortunately I couldn't get it in last week, since my Muse apparently gave me the finger and ran off to Rio. Actually, I was originally planning to also end the attack on Tienne in this chapter, but as I got closer to the Calling I realized that I was overreaching myself (again), and that this was the best place to stop. Also unfortunately, my usual sources of FFL fact-checking have more or less dried up at this point. Which is a real shame; the story is really coming together right now. At any rate, there might be a few inconsistencies; if so, I wouldn't mind an e-mail to let me know. Minor, non-plot-affecting changes can be patched in later. ^_^; And minor note: the 'squad' is hardly intended to be continuing characters. We shouldn't see them after the battle. Anyway, that's it for now. Time to turn this in... and sign up for another round. I'm getting eager to see this through to the end. - Brian Stricklin