What you are about to read is only a story. Some people feel compelled to find meaning in everything, even if there is no inner meaning to be found. It is for those people that I say again that this is only a story, nothing more, nothing less.

Many will read this and the books that follow and conclude that it is about the young knight, Mikaen. They will compare his troubled life on Earth with the struggle of individuals in any society where people are persecuted for being different. They may believe the good things that result from his arrival on Vinta are elements of Karma, or Luck, or perhaps even Fate. As this is not the case, I again say that this is only a story, nothing more, nothing less.

Others may believe this story is about the Dreamers of the Elsewhere Incorporate. Dreamers could in this instance represent the will of the Creator as they move around the mainstream spreading happiness and battling against the forces of darkness. While this is an interesting concept, Dreamers are not angels, nor would we ever want people to think of us as such. The very idea of Narrator Number Two as an angel is alarming, to say the least. This is only a story, nothing more, nothing less.

Some will think this story is about flying bunnies. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I’ve already had environmentalists send me glowing letters of praise for writing about flying bunnies, or ‘fiona’, as they are known on Vinta. There are fiona in this story, but there are also many other animals. This is only a story, nothing more, nothing less.

Perhaps the strangest of all are those who think that this tale is completely true. The events depicted within this book are indeed a part of history; some of the people who read this may even have been involved. Still, to accept the words of any history as pure truth can ultimately lead to trouble. History is only a story after all, and what has already passed is just that: the past. As such, as you read what follows, keep the following statement in mind:

 

This is only a story, nothing more, nothing less.

 

-Alan T. Tryth

Chronicler of the Elsewhere Incorporate

2: Chapter 1 - A Sign from Above

A slight breeze whispered through the trees, brushing against the tall grass of the forest floor and startling a small yellow butterfly from a nearby flower. It fluttered to the shade of the oak tree and came to rest on the tip of the nose of the man who was resting in the shade. The man let out a small snort, causing the winged insect to flutter a foot or two away before coming to rest on a small pink wildflower.

The man smiled as he watched the little butterfly flit among the flowers. In truth, he was no ordinary man; he was a Dreamer. That’s all well and good, but exactly what is a Dreamer anyway? What made this young man different from any other? Certainly it wasn’t his physical appearance; his baggy blue-jean shorts, green-and-gray striped shirt, and unkempt brown hair made him look more like some teenager playing hooky than a being who could bend reality to his will.

His name was One, Narrator Number One. That, of course, was not his true name; rather, it was the name he had chosen for himself, with some aid his best friend, a Dreamer fittingly known as Narrator Number Two.

None of that, however, answers the original question; just what is a Dreamer? In truth, this is no simple question … though perhaps by the end of this tale, you will find your answer.

Oblivious (or perhaps merely unconcerned) about the mystery of his existence, One shifted slightly to make himself more comfortable, so that he might better enjoy the peace and relative quiet.

Unbeknownst to One, a strange distortion had begun to form above the clearing. Had he been watching, it would have appeared to the naked eye as though a whirlpool had inexplicably formed in midair. In a matter of moments, the strange disturbance began to bend and stretch until it was roughly as large as the oblivious Dreamer resting below.

Without warning, something fell from the center of the disturbance and smashed through the upper branches of the oak tree. Hearing the sounds of leaves rustling and twigs snapping, One opened his eyes just in time to see something shiny crashing down through the upper branches of his tree at an alarming rate. With a loud yelp, he flung himself aside just in time to avoid being flattened by the falling object.

The Dreamer pushed himself from the ground, a faint look of annoyance on his youthful countenance. Brushing the grass and leaves from his shorts and his green and gray-striped shirt, he approached the object that shattered the tranquility of the clearing.

As One drew near, his eyes went wide. “Cyber-cripes! It’s a dude!”

Indeed, the object was in fact a young man. He was a strong-looking fellow with light-brown hair even longer than the crop that graced One’s head, and faded to a silvery white at the tips. His skin was deeply tanned and crossed with numerous scars. One had his share of scars as well, but his skin was much fairer.

The Dreamer recognized the metal footwear that practically encompassed the young man’s legs as tek-boots, magically and technologically augmented footwear that let the wearer run faster and jump higher. Most of the rest of the warrior’s armor was traditional metal plating, with the exception of his shirt.

“Selanium threading.” One commented, scratching his chin thoughtfully. “That narrows it down. Question is, how did a kid from Earth end up here?”

His ‘guest’ didn’t respond.

Kneeling by the man’s side, One asked, “Hey, uh … guy! Can you hear me?”

The young man did not reply. One leaned over and pressed his fingers against the young man’s neck to check for a pulse.

Several crowded seconds later, One found himself on his back with the business end of a sword inches from his throat. With only a little more effort than he had spent to discourage the butterfly earlier, One sent the young man flying off him.

“Norms.” One muttered as he stood up.

He had hardly finished straightening his shirt when he found the glimmering tip of the man’s sword in alarmingly close proximity to his face.

Staring cross-eyed at the tip of the sword, One said, “Chill out, dude. I’m unarmed.”

The warrior looked One over before slowly lowering his weapon.

Watching with mild interest as the sword’s blade retracted into the hilt, One slid his hands in his pockets. “That wasn't so hard, was it?”

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” demanded the warrior.

One scowled. “Oh, that's nice! You fall from the sky and nearly crush me into a Dreamer pancake, totally ruining what was up till now a perfect day, and now you want to know what I'm doing here? Who the heck are you?”

“That's no business of yours.” The warrior said tersely.

“Fine. If you don’t want to be nice, get lost.” Without another word, One started to sit back down beneath the tree.

The warrior grabbed One's arm and jerked the Dreamer to his feet. “This is no place for a picnic! Don’t you know the Revs patrol this area?”

With a sudden yelp, the warrior let go of One's arm.

A smirk on his face, One rubbed his arm, transmuting the rigid metal needles back into his natural arm hair. “Don’t like the Revs, huh? Good on you. You don’t look like a Ranger.”

“The Rangers fell.” The warrior’s face showed a moment of sadness. “The Knights of the Star rose in their place.”

“Knights of the Star, huh? I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s been ages since I was on Earth.”

The warrior’s face went pale. “Wait, go back a sec; what do you mean ‘on Earth’?”

“Yeah, I haven’t been there in a while. Too depressing, you know? I've been meaning to stop by again.” One stopped, noting that the warrior’s face had gone pale. “You didn't know this wasn't Earth, did you?”

The warrior stammered, “I just … back on … this isn't Earth?”

“Of course you didn’t know.” muttered One, “That would be way too convenient.”

Quickly recovering himself, the man asked, “If I'm not on Earth then where am I?”

With a sigh, One spread his arms wide. “This is the planet Vinta, the Prylliat Woods in southern Ircandesta to be precise. I'd say we're roughly seven thousand light-years from Earth. Don’t quote me on that though.”

A dumbstruck look fell over the knight’s face at this revelation. One held his peace; the poor guy had a lot to think about, after all. Still, if One’s experience had taught him anything, in a matter of moments the knight would say the old ‘I have to go back’ line and start pestering One for help.

“I have to get back.” said the warrior, a look of resolve on his face.

“Of course you do.” One said in a tired voice.

“I don't suppose you could-”

“No.” One said rather bluntly, “I’m a Dreamer, not a taxi. You gotta find your own way back; it's character-building.”

Seeing the warrior's scowl, One let out a sigh. “No offense dude, but Earth's a crap hole. Why do you want to go back so bad?”

After a moment’s hesitation, the knight pulled on the tarnished silver chain that was around his neck, revealing a small data chip encased in a protective plastic sleeve. “This contains a detailed schematic of the Rev HQ in Vegas.”

“I thought the Rev Headquarters was in Topanga.”

The knight gave him an odd look. “The Rev HQ hasn't been in Topanga since the fall of the Ranger’s Collective. Look, it’s important that I get this chip back to Misakren as soon as possible. With any luck, we’ll be able to stop the Revs once and for all!”

Shaking his head, One said, “I really can't help you, though God knows I wouldn't mind being partially responsible the fall of the Revs.”

“Then why? Why won’t you send me home?” The knight demanded. “If you know about the Revs, you must know that they need to be stopped before more innocent lives are lost.”

“Look, I can't just move people from one end of the universe to the other on a whim. It's complicated. Don't ask me to explain; I’m not sure even I understand the specifics of it all. I can't take you to Earth, and that’s that.”

For a long moment, One thought the knight might attack him. Fortunately, it didn’t come to that. The anger in the knight’s face faded in a matter of moments. Looking tired and lost, he sank down against the oak tree.

One didn’t want to get involved, but the expression on the knight’s face made his resolve waver. It wasn’t that One didn’t want to help; he just didn’t want to get involved in what was obviously going to be another drawn out assignment. He wished there was a way to help the guy without having to hand-hold him through the entire process.

A smile crossed One’s face as the perfect solution popped abruptly into his head. “Say, what’s your name, buddy?”

“Mikaen.”

“Well, Mikaen, now that I think about it, there might just be something I can do to help you out.” He pulled a scrap of paper and a marker from his pockets. “I can't teleport you back to Earth, but maybe I can point you in the right direction to find your own way back.”

He scribbled something on the paper before handing it to Mikaen. “This’ll point you to a nearby village called Homestead. The vuestan will be more than willing to help you out.”

Mikaen took the paper uncertainly. “The vuestan?”

“Yeah, local humanoid race. They’re easy to spot: cat ears and tails like monkeys, usually less than five feet tall. Look, just ask around for a boy named Elduran Thistlethorn.”

“Elduran Thistlethorn.” Mikaen repeated, committing the name to memory.

One nodded. “Yeah, Elduran’s an old friend of mine. Brown-headed kid with a bit of white on the tips of his ears. Just say my name, and I’m sure he’ll help you out.”

“What’s your name?” Mikaen’s eyes narrowed as he noticed the only thing on the paper was an elaborately drawn arrow. “Hey, what gives?! Is this some kind of joke?”

After a moment of silence, he looked up to find that he was alone.

3: Chapter 2 - Friends

Mikaen stood in the clearing for a few moments, part of him thinking that perhaps if he waited the strange guy would return. After a few minutes passed without incident, he rolled his eyes and tossed the paper the strange man had given him aside.

Rubbing his eyes, he muttered, "Great. Maybe I'm finally going crazy."

A rustling on the ground caught his ear. Glancing down, Mikaen noticed that the piece of paper was spinning about an inch above the grass. It eventually stopped with the arrow now pointing to one of the trails that led from the clearing.

"That'd be west, if this place is like Earth." Mikaen squinted at the canopy of leaves; he couldn't see much of the sky, but it looked as though there where two suns. "Pretty big if, though."

Mikaen knelt down and picked up the paper. He didn't feel any kind of spell or enchantment emanating from it, and he was normally very perceptive about that kind of thing. He let the paper fall back to the ground. Almost instantly, the paper started spinning again, eventually pointing at the same path as before.

It seemed to Mikaen that he had two choices: follow the path laid out for him by the mysterious stranger, or head off on his own. Glancing up at the treetops so distant that they seemed to brush the clouds, Mikaen knew that if nothing else, the stranger had at least been telling the truth about one thing; the planet he was on was definitely not Earth.

With a sigh, Mikaen started down the trail his 'compass' indicated. There might be trouble if he followed the strange fellow's directions, but there was no telling what he might run into if he headed off on his own on an alien world. It may sound strange, but he'd take certain trouble over uncertain trouble any day.

A rustle caught Mikaen's ears. He glanced back at where he landed, half expecting to see the stranger asleep beneath the tree again. His eyes widened; the oak tree had completely vanished, and the last of the massive chronoan trees was settling itself back in its proper place. He watched as the last few roots slid back into the dirt.

He had seen his share of strange beings back on Earth, usually as a result of the Devastation: the master of light and shadow known as Schrade, the mysterious gunman known only as 'The Stranger', and the explosive but well-intentioned Bombshell were the strangest, if Mikaen had to name names … among the humanoids, anyway. His mysterious benefactor was different, though; He didn't display extraordinary strength or agility, and just as with the 'compass', Mikaen didn't sense any magic from the fellow. Still, there was something about him that seemed off somehow, not in a bad way but still very different. Shaking his head, he glanced back at the paper to get his bearings and started walking.

The forest was pleasant, even if Mikaen wasn't in the mood to enjoy it. These trees were whole and undamaged, much different from the scorched forests and overgrown cities he was accustomed to traversing. Not all the trees were massive; some were even familiar: the white bark of birch trees stood out among the undergrowth.

Mikaen stopped to check his compass every time he came to a crossroad. As he watched the paper spinning for the third time, he thumbed the flash drive around his neck. Did Syrin know he was gone? Would she somehow be able to bring him back if the stranger's lead didn't pan out? What of his best friends, Jyle Crestorm and Jade Siercka? At what point would they give up if they couldn't find him?

It was the gentle calm of the forest that bothered him the most. He was used to patrolling around Misakren, where Revs made frequent patrols in a vain attempt to find the stronghold of the Knights of the Star. If it wasn't the Revs, it was some magical beast such as a chimera or a behemoth roaming around for food. There were plenty of dangers left in what was left of the old United States to keep a knight on his or her toes.

After half an hour of nerve-wrackingly pleasant hiking through the Prylliat Woods, Mikaen broke from the rough trail indicated by the compass into a clearing with three distinct paths leading from it. The paths were made from crushed stone and looked to be at least moderately well maintained. Civilization obviously wasn't too far away, much to Mikaen's relief. He tossed the paper on the ground for guidance. This time, however, the paper spun about three times before abruptly stopping, the arrow stretching and twisting until it formed a question mark.

"Great." He said, picking up the compass. "Now what?"

Before he had time to try to figure out what it meant, a green-robed boy with blonde hair, long pointed fuzzy brown ears and a long furry tail rushed through the clearing, looking more than a little panicked.

Quickly folding the paper and slipping it into his pocket, Mikaen called out, "Hey there! You all right?"

The lad skidded to a halt. His blue eyes widened at the sight of the knight.

"Oh, thank the Creator! Mister, you've got to help me!"

Mikaen blinked. The boy's lips hadn't moved at all, yet he was sure he heard the boy's voice. He didn't get to consider it for long. A spine-rattling roar erupted through the clearing as what was chasing the boy tore through the brush and landed only three meters from Mikaen. The monstrous reptile's reddish scales, eight legs, and wicked-looking fangs made it look like something that clawed its way out of hell.

The creature was a durien, one of the few unfriendly creatures that lived in the forests of Ircandesta. Fortunately for both Mikaen and the boy, duriens are easily distracted. Confronted with not one but two potential meals, the durien looked from Mikaen to the boy indecisively.

All thoughts of being lost on an alien world vanished as Mikaen's fighting instincts quickly took over. In a way it was a relief; this was the sort of thing Mikaen was accustomed to; this he could deal with.

He didn't bother with his sword; Justice was a good blade, but Mikaen knew from experience he'd need a weapon with a bit more reach. No, this was a job for Truth; he pulled the short hiltless blade from the scabbard on his belt. With a surge of magic, a four-foot long pole shot from the base of the blade. Mikaen quickly spun the pole-arm around and snapped a short cylinder on the butt end. The cylinder quickly reconfigured itself, the blue-green swirl of magic already gathering around the three prongs in response to Mikaen's magical talent.

Mikaen moved with practiced speed, the entire process taking less than three seconds. It was a good thing too; apparently deciding that Mikaen would make a bigger meal, the durien snarled and leapt toward him. The boy scurried away almost instantly, leaping up into the trees and disappearing from sight like a scared monkey.

Moving aside with practiced grace, Mikaen swung his weapon at one of the creature's legs as the creature trampled past him. The beast roared as the blade tore a gash through scale and muscle, leaving a trail of oozing black blood across one of its trunk-like legs. A flash of something metallic caught Mikaen's eye. He leapt aside as the barbed tail flashed toward him, barely missing being skewered. As the creature's tail swung near again, he deftly sidestepped out of its path. With a flick of his blade, he sheared the barbed tail from the creature.

The creature let out screech of pain as black blood rained from the stump of its tail, filling the air with an acrid stench. Some of the blood splattered across Mikaen's selanium mail, giving him a full blast of the foul odor. As Mikaen reeled back from the smell, one of the durien's flailing talons caught him full in the chest. The sharp claws didn't pierce his shirt (selanium cloth was renowned for being extremely strong, if a bit hard to clean), but the force of the blow sent him flying across the clearing. He tumbled roughly across the ground, barely able to maintain his grip on Truth as he skidded to a halt.

As Mikaen struggled to get to his feet, the creature crouched down on all eight legs like a cat about to pounce. He managed to get the amplifier end of his weapon up just as the creature leapt toward him.

Magic came to him easily, far more easily that it should have according to Syrin. There were no wands, no incantations, just his mind bending the raw aether to his will. A gasp left his lips as a surge of energy shot from his hands down the length of Truth, encircling the amplifier for a moment before rocketing toward the durien as a bolt of lightning. The electrical blast hit the durien in midair, knocking it against a tree clear across the clearing with enough force to make the bark crack.

The creature gurgled as it rose to its feet, foul blood spewing from its mouth. With a final cry, it collapsed to the ground and was still. Slightly out of breath, Mikaen quickly rose and approached the creature. With a swift stroke of his weapon, he severed the creature's head.

"Better safe than sorry." He said, sending the ghastly head flying beyond the edges of the clearing with a well-placed kick augmented by his tek-boots. It made a very satisfying thud somewhere in the undergrowth.

Mikaen started to wipe the creature's blood off his weapon when he heard something rustle in the bush behind him. He spun about, the still-bloody blade of Truth at the ready.

Seeing only the eyes of the boy staring back at him in fear, Mikaen let out a sigh of relief and lowered his weapon. "It's okay, kid. Nothing me and Truth couldn't handle."

The kid cautiously approached the dead body of the durien. After a few moments of prodding the creature with the tip of his sandal, he gave it a hard kick.

"Yeah! Serves you right!"

Just as before, the boy's lips didn't move. Mikaen wondered if the boy's entire race had a natural empathic ability. Psionic talents were fairly uncommon on Earth, but Mikaen reminded himself that he wasn't on Earth anymore.

Finished with his assault on the durien's headless body, the boy's eyes fell on the dismembered tail. He glanced up at Mikaen with bright blue eyes. "You mind if I have that?"

Glancing distastefully at the severed tail, Mikaen said, "Help yourself."

With squeal of glee, the boy scampered out over to the tail, his own fuzzy tail wagging behind him. Mikaen continued to stare as the boy rolled the tail up in a large coil.

The boy glanced back at Mikaen as he stuck the coiled tail in one of his side pouches, careful not to touch the barbs. "You've never seen a vuestan before?"

Mikaen shook his head.

The boy grinned at him. "My people don't have tra- … trach- … ugh, we don't have vocal cords. Our … what was it you were thinking … psionic abilities? They're supposed to be some kind of evolutionary trait."

"A race of mind-readers." Mikaen snorted at the thought. "I don't suppose you know someone named Syrin."

The boy glanced around excitedly. "Nope. Is she your friend? Is she here too?"

"No, but I wouldn't put it past her to find a way to send me across the galaxy just to get me to talk to a shrink."

"Galaxy? What do you mean by …" the boy's blue eyes grew even wider. "Whoa! You're from another planet? Cool!"

Mikaen scowl went unnoticed as the boy circled around him, staring as though Mikaen were some bizarre animal.

Feeling a bit uncomfortable under the scrutiny, Mikaen said, "Look, I don't have time to explain this, um …"

"Jeronem." The boy's long furry ears waggled a little, making him look particularly impish.

"Right. Well, I'd like to stay and chat, but I'm looking for a village called Homestead."

Jeronem beamed at him. "Really? I was just headed home myself! Follow me!"

As his new friend headed down the path on his right, Mikaen pulled the paper with the arrow out of his pocket and set it down on the ground. When the paper spun and pointed to the trail Jeronem took, he couldn't help but let out a groan.

"Great." He muttered stuffing the paper in his pocket. "Just great."

As he stood up, Mikaen found himself staring into the upside-down face of Jeronem.

"Whatcha doin'?"

"Aah!" Mikaen stepped back, his reflexively going to the hilt of his sword before he stopped himself. When he realized it was just his new friend he scowled and said, "Don't do that!"

Jeronem swung back and forth, the end of his tail wrapped around a low-hanging branch. "Come on, come on! Let's go!"

Landing deftly on his hands and feet, Jeronem headed toward the path he took a moment before, Mikaen following reluctantly behind.

Teleportation is a tricky thing for a Dreamer. It's a tricky thing for everyone really, but unlike mages who have years and years of research on the various forms of teleportation, Dreamers pretty much have to learn as they go, either from another Dreamer or direct experience. As such, actual skill varies depending on the Dreamer. One was not on the skilled end of the spectrum.

When the world stopped spinning, One found himself in a tree near the shore near a small waterfall that flowed smoothly into the base of a nearby stream. He was also hanging upside down.

"Gah!" With some difficulty, he managed to untangle himself from the branches of the tree and land on the ground with minimal difficulty. Brushing himself off, he took a quick glance around his glanced around. There was no sign of Elduran … or anyone else, for that matter.

"That's strange." He muttered, scratching his head, "I should be in Homestead."

"INFERNIS!"

Years of being a Dreamer made his body instinctively throw itself to the ground independent of his somewhat lagging mind. This was a good thing, seeing as a red-hot torrent shot through the air he had previously been occupying, missing his descending ponytail by mere inches.

Clutching his head, One shouted, "Fire bad, FIRE BAD!"

The inferno died instantly. One glanced up, one eye peeking through his fingers. Through the haze, he saw a figure cautiously approaching through the underbrush, a glowing staff in his hands.

The figure lowered his staff and peered at One through a small set of spectacles. "One? Narrator Number One? By the Creator, it is you!"

The smoke cleared in a matter of moments, revealing a middle-aged vuestan man with blonde hair and blue eyes. The tips of his ears were just beginning to turn white, a sign that he was about fifty years old, middle-aged as far as the vuestan were concerned. Still, there was something in the face that One recognized immediately.

"Elduran?" One let out a laugh when his old friend nodded. "Dude! When did you get so wise and venerable-looking?"

Elduran held out his hand, smiling. "It took years to get it right. Long time no see, old friend. Sorry about the fire, but I thought you were a durien."

"No, still just a Dreamer."

"Just a Dreamer." Elduran shook his head. "You haven't changed at all. I suppose you hear that all the time, though. Here, let me get that for you."

Elduran waved his staff over One. Instantly, all the dirt and leaves vanished from One's clothes. One was impressed; some might scoff at using magic for laundry purposes, but One had long ago learned that practicality was more important than showmanship.

"Hey, thanks!" One sniffed at his shirt, asking, "Is that peppermint?"

"Huh?" Elduran sniffed at One before frowning. "I thought I fixed that. It was supposed to be 'After the Rain' scent."

"Hey, clean is clean, as far as I'm concerned." One raised an eyebrow at his friend's staff. It seemed to be made of blue crystal, but the spikes near the top looked quite familiar. "Say, Elduran," he began, "Your staff … isn't that-"

"Durien's tail, yup." He gazed fondly at his arcane tool. "The cells crystallize over time, which is perfect for storing spells for later use. I can squeeze in hundred of enchantments into this staff; way more than that old chronoan staff I used to have."

One grinned, remembering when a much younger Elduran extolled the superiority of a chronoan staff. Something about the living wood empowering the spells stored within, though One never paid much attention to magical theory; he may have been a Dreamer, but he was no magi.

Elduran gave him a warning glance, obviously picking up One's thoughts. "Don't say it."

"I said nothing. Why would I say something if I said nothing?" One said innocently, holding up his hands.

Shaking his head, Elduran let out a sigh. "I'd love to chat, but I'm afraid my son might be in trouble."

"Your son?" One asked, thinking of Jeronem. "Wait, you're married?"

Elduran nodded. To One's surprise, the vuestan was starting to blush. "Do you remember Kathryn?"

One's jaw dropped in disbelief. "Wait … you married Killer Katy?"

"She's even more beautiful now than she was back then, though I'd suggest not calling her that if you see her."

One remembered the fiery-haired young vuestan woman who nearly fried him on several occasions. As a Dreamer, he couldn't die of course, but being set aflame or blasted by a bolt of lightning wasn't a pleasant experience.

"Jeronem's our boy. He'll be thirteen years old next week." Elduran glanced in the direction of the cave. "I ran into several of his friends about an hour ago. They told me he was poking around here."

"Wait," One interrupted, "Your son … little dude with yellow hair?"

Elduran looked sharply at One. "You've seen him? Is he okay?"

One smiled reassuringly at his old friend. "Yeah, just a few minutes ago, and he had a pissed-off durien close behind. Don't worry though; the durien is gone, and your son will be along soon enough without a scratch on him."

Elduran bowed his head in gratitude, relief visible on his face. "I owe you my thanks."

One shook his head. "Not me, actually. An off-worlder named Mikaen took out the durien, pretty quick too."

"An off-worlder?"

"Yup. Actually, that's why I was looking for you; he wants to go back to his planet. Between you and me, I think he needs a bit of shrink work. I gotta warn you, though; he'll be a tough nut to crack. You know those brooding hero types."

"I've run into my fair share. Well, don't you worry; I'm sure I can help him out. A spell for all occasions, remember?"

One rubbed the right side of his head and said, "I'm trying not to. In any case, I figure you're the best chance the guy has of getting home."

Elduran chuckled. "I'll see what I can do. Is this off-worlder part of an assignment by any chance?"

"Nah, just some guy I ran into. I came to Ircandesta to get away from work." One let out a sigh. "You think the universe could handle itself for a few days without bothering me, y'know?"

Elduran put his hand on One's shoulder. "I know Homestead isn't the Elsewhere, but you're more than welcome to put up your feet. The Trabi festival's only a month away."

One considered it. The Trabi Harvest festival (named for the trabi grain, a colorful variant of maize native to Vinta) was full of singing and drinking and excellent food, followed by a storytelling competition and the crowning of the Trabi King with the ceremonial crown, which would pop from the heat of the wearer and send the colorful popped trabi kernels flying in all directions.

Still, he was eager to get back to his little vacation. "Thanks for the offer, man, but I'm kinda wanting to head back to the Elsewhere before someone else falls out of the sky. I appreciate the offer, though."

Elduran smiled amicably at his old friend as they shook hands once again. "Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me."

"You got it." With that, One vanished.

4: Chapter 3 - Homestead

“What planet are you from?”

“Earth.”

“Why do you have weapons?”

“I'm a Knight of the Star.”

“That's cool. You a magi?”

“Elementalist.”

“Is that like energist?”

“I’m … not sure.”

“I’m a spell-shaper myself. You have heard about spell-shapers, right?”

“No.”

“We store spells in staves, crystals … anything with a proper enchantment matrix. Easier to carry, easier to use, easier to alter later to fit any situation. I'm still in school, but I’m gonna be as good a spell-shaper as my father.”

“Great.”

“Yeah, I know! I'm the top of my class. No one's really surprised though; dad was head of the class in his day too. My mom thinks I try too hard, but I want to be known for being more than some spoiled twip.”

“Uh-huh.”

This had been going on pretty much from the moment they had started down the path. Mikaen knew that it was only natural for Jeronem to be curious, but the constant questioning was growing more than a little tiresome.

“What’s your planet called again?”

Mikaen suppressed the urge to let out a tired sigh. “Earth.”

“What's Earth like?”

“Don't you ever stop talking?”

“Come on! What's your planet like?”

“It would take too long to explain.”

“That's okay. It's a good half-hour before we reach Homestead.”

Mikaen came to a halt. Jeronem continued on for a few more feet before realizing that his new friend had stopped walking.

“What's wrong?” Jeronem asked.

“Look, kid …”

“Jeronem.”

“Jeronem. There wasn’t much left in my life to care about, and now what little there was is on the other side of the galaxy, maybe even the universe for all I know. There’s a very good chance that I’ll never be able to get back home. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t bother the hell out of me, so I’d appreciate it if you could please just hold off the interrogation.”

Jeronem smacked himself in the side of his head. “Oh! I'm sorry! I'm being a pest! I'll be quiet. Not a peep.” He made a lip-buttoning gesture.

A few moments of relative silence passed as the two continued along the path.

“So what's Earth like?”

Mikaen glared at Jeronem, but the sight of Jeronem’s childish face and curious expression made his annoyance fade. Jeronem was just acting like what he was: a kid who just met an alien.

“Earth's not that different from Vinta, I suppose.” Glancing up at the treetops so high that there were actually clouds floating beneath the leaves, Mikaen said, “Though I’ll admit there are some differences.”

“You said you're a knight. What's that like?”

“It's been better.” Mikaen stared at the ground as he walked.

Jeronem squinted at him. “Huh. There it is again.”

“There’s what again?”

“Some kind of overlaid thought. It's been in your mind since I first asked about Earth.”

“Overlaid thought?”

Jeronem shrugged. “It’s like … y’know, when you’re thinking about something so much that you don’t realize you’re thinking about.”

Mikaen didn’t understand, but he didn’t press the point. They continued down the road in silence for a few minutes.

Jeronem glanced up at Mikaen. “So, what’s the deal with the whole ‘knight’ thing anyway?”

“I'm a Knight of the Star. We were formed to protect non-humans and magi on Earth from being murdered by the Revs.”

Jeronem put a hand to his head as though someone had bopped him on the head. “Ow! Whoa, slow down! Who are the Revs?”

“It’s slang; Revs are what we call the members of the Restored Earth Alliance. They used to help people adapt to life after the Devastation, but now it’s just a bunch of so-called ‘pure’ humans who think that anyone different from themselves should be destroyed in the interests of maintaining the purity of the human race.” Mikaen snorted derisively. “Apparently they forgot that ‘pure’ humans nearly wiped out the planet.”

Jeronem gulped. “Humans must be evil creatures.”

Mikaen raised an eyebrow. “Hey now, I'm human too. I'm just not considered a pure human because of my magical abilities.”

“Oh, you mean … I see! Yeah, there are humans on Vinta! We call ‘em Galden though. Actually, something kinda like that happened on here centuries ago.” Jeronem paused a moment to hop over an exposed tree root. “A Galden king called Lucaius Calliban got it in his head that the Galden were superior to the other races. He built up an army and went on a crusade to conquer the planet. He didn’t do so well, though; the idestan moved their homes to the treetops, my people began living inside the trees, the Rimstakken raised their whole continent off the ocean … heck, in the end, the only country they were able to even attempt to invade was Longshore, and they were beaten so badly there that Calliban’s army turned on him.”

Shaking his head, Jeronem glanced up at Mikaen. “So you're a knight, and you fight the Revs. How about dragons? Have you ever fought a dragon, like the old-fashioned knights in fairy-tales?”

“No, but I have tea with one on occasion.”

Jeronem gave him a skeptical look.

Mikaen cracked a rare smile at his young friend. “It's a long story.”

He stopped as they rounded the last few trees of the forest and passed beneath two smaller trees that formed an arc over the stone-paved road at the entrance to Homestead.

Mikaen wasn’t sure what he had expected to see when he arrived, but he had formed a general image: a few huts surrounding some ancient temple, a small village by the seaside, or a farming community. In short, he thought it would be a something quaint and small. He was wrong.

Homestead wasn’t a town or a village; it was a city, filled with thousands of vuestan who walked around, shopped in surprisingly modern stores, chatted amicably with their friends and neighbors (telepathically, of course), and essentially went about their lives in relative peace. In short, it was a thriving community, larger by far than any settlement Mikaen had encountered during his time with the Knights of the Star.

“Jeronem,” Mikaen asked as he stared, “Just how many people live here?”

“Oh, around sixty or seventy thousand I think. I don’t know the exact number. It’s the biggest vuestan city.” He shrugged before starting forward, an awestruck Mikaen following moments later.

The trees in the city were of a different type than the rest of the forest; smaller than the massive chronoan trees, but still impressively large. The homes were built into and around the trees with little to no conventional woodwork.

“Noktal trees.” Jeronem grinned at Mikaen. “A full-grown tree can house a family of ten.”

“How do you build the house inside the tree without killing it?”

“It’s called shaping, and it’s not really that hard. Anyone with a talent for magic can learn it. Heck, I could show you how to do it later, if you want.”

The stone-paved streets were lined with a healthy growth of ivies covered with pale blue blooms and white fruit roughly the size of oranges.

Jeronem plucked a fruit from the ivy and tossed it to Mikaen. “Hungry? Have a mevos.”

Mikaen removed the fruit’s rough outer peel and took a bite. The flesh was similar in texture to that of an orange, but tasted more like that of an apple with a strange, mint-like aftertaste.

As they walked through the city, many people smiled and waved at Jeronem. Mikaen couldn’t help but notice that the vuestan were all a bit on the short side, the tallest still a good head shorter than Mikaen.

Mikaen was the object of much curiosity, especially among the children. While the adults would only smile at him politely, some quickly looking away, the children actually started following at distance. When Mikaen turned around, the children would scatter, some swinging up through the trees and others simply scampering away. Some of the older ones just disappeared altogether.

“Kids.” Jeronem, who wasn’t much older than some of them, shook his head. As the kids regrouped behind them, he glanced at Mikaen. “Just ignore them. We don’t get a lot of visitors, and you do stick out a bit.”

As twilight fell over the city, the children scampered away. The sounds of their mothers calling for them were like whispers in the back of Mikaen’s head. Once the twin suns had set, the mevos buds bloomed, radiating a soothing bluish-white aura bright enough to illuminate the streets.

Stopping on a bridge over a small stream, Jeronem pointed to an ancient tree whose rough, moss-covered boughs stretched higher than any of the other homes. Light shone from a few windows in the upper levels of the home, through which a pacing silhouette was faintly visible.

“That’s my house. My family’s lived there for centuries.” Jeronem’s face had a touch of pride. “The oldest tree in the forest.”

Mikaen stared at the tree in silence. After everything else, the sight of the Thistlethorn home made him wonder if he had fallen into some bizarre fairy-tale.

“It's amazing.” he said.

Jeronem blushed to the tips of his furry ears. “Well, it’s home. Come on! You gotta meet dad!”

Oddly enough, the door had no handle. Jeronem held his hand over a groove in the door. Moments later, it slid open, allowing them entry.

Stooping his head as he walked through the door, Mikaen was surprised to see a perfectly normal looking parlor room, complete with armchairs and a couch. A silver sphere was floating above a circular wooden table in the center of the room and soft blue carpet covered the floor. A winding staircase led to the upper levels of the home, all of which appeared surprisingly normal to Mikaen’s eyes. Aside from the occasional branch or cluster of leaves, there was no indication that the house had been built inside a giant tree.

Jeronem kicked his shoes off and hung them on a rack by the door. “Mom! Dad! I'm back!”

Mikaen undid the clasps on his tek-boots and pulled them off with some difficulty. He had only just set them beneath the rack when a mind-splitting shriek shot through his mind, rattling every nerve in his body.

“Uh oh.” Jeronem paled visibly.

“What the hell was that?!” said Mikaen, his hand on the hilt of his sword.

Looking rather pale, Jeronem shook his head. “It's … it’s my …”

At that moment, a vuestan woman with strikingly red hair appeared in one of the doorways of the upper floor. Mikaen would have described her as pretty if he had seen her on a normal day; she had a nicely proportioned body and a pleasant face that reminded him strongly of Syrin. At the moment, however, the expression on her face brought to mind the snarling jaws of the durien.

Jeronem cringed as she practically flew downstairs, her mental voice so loud that it made Mikaen's head throb. “JERONEM ONUJITS THISTLETHORN!”

Brushing by Mikaen, she rushed up to Jeronem and seized him by one long furry ear. “WHAT WHERE YOU THINKING?! ATTACKING A DURIEN? YOU COULD HAVE BEEN RIPPED TO SHREDS AND FED TO HER HATCHLINGS!”

Jeronem winced with obvious pain. “I wasn't trying to attack it! I was just practicing magic at the river, and-”

Kathryn gave Jeronem's ear a vicious twist. “DON'T LIE TO ME, YOUNG MAN!”

“Aaaah! All right! I thought I could drown the durien and get its tail for my casting staff! I tried to block the entrance with an energy wall, but the durien must've had another entrance to its lair behind the waterfall! That's the truth, I swear!”

Kathryn gave the ear another squeeze before letting go and putting her hand on her hips. “Sometimes I just don't know about you; your teachers all say you're the brightest student they've had since your father, but I know he never did anything so remarkably stupid!”

Rubbing his now scarlet ear, Jeronem was smart enough to look apologetic. “I’m sorry, mom.”

“And as for you!”

Mikaen tensed as the diminutive vuestan woman rounded on him.

Her expression softened. “Thank you for saving my foolish son's life.”

Relieved, Mikaen bowed his head respectfully. “I'm glad I could be of assistance, ma’am.”

“Kathryn Thistlethorn. Kathryn will be fine.”

“I’m Mikaen.” He extended his hand.

She took his hand in both of hers and shook it, smiling warmly. “Well, is there anything we can do to repay you for the rescue of my idiot boy?” She shot a glare at Jeronem, as if daring him to argue.

“I was told to find a boy by the name of Elduran.” Mikaen replied, “Do you happen to know where he lives?”

“He lives here, sir knight.”

Mikaen turned to see Elduran closing the front door behind him. He had brown hair and little patches of white fur on the tips of his ears, but he was certainly not a child; by the look of his face, he was at least ten years Mikaen’s senior. His eyes were the same bright blue as Jeronem’s, and just as full of mischief.

Smoothing the front of his dark green robes, Elduran smiled at him. “You're Mikaen, right? I’ve been expecting you. I’m Elduran Thistlethorn, Elder of Homestead.”

His gaze turned to Jeronem, who quickly looked away. “Well, did you at least get the tail?

Jeronem brightened. “Oh yeah! I got it right-”

Kathryn frowned at him. She didn’t have to say anything; the look was apparently enough.

Turning to Elduran, Mikaen said, “The person who told me to look for you said to mention his name, but he never told me who he was.”

Elduran chuckled. “That would be Narrator Number One. He’s a decent fellow. A bit strange, but I’ve yet to meet a Dreamer who isn’t a bit on the eccentric side.”

“Dreamer?” Something about the way Elduran pronounced the word with a capital ‘D’ told Mikaen that the normal definition of ‘dreamer’ did not necessarily apply to the stranger he had met earlier.

Elduran chuckled. “We can talk all about One and the Elsewhere Incorporate after dinner. Seeing as you’re from another planet, I think I’ll make something special today.”

He started to a door on the right side of the room (presumably the kitchen), but Kathryn caught him first.

“Oh, no! Last time you tried to cook something ‘special’, it took a month to get the smell out of the house. I’ll start dinner. Jeronem's going to help me, aren't you, Jeronem?” Kathryn smiled at her son a little too widely, a dangerous glint in her eyes.

“Yes, Mom.” Waving despondently, Jeronem followed his mother out of the room, leaving Elduran and Mikaen alone.

5: Chapter 4 - Old Wounds

Once Mikaen and Elduran were comfortable (or in Mikaen's case, as comfortable as he could be on a couch made for a significantly smaller person), Mikaen took a deep breath and began to talk.

"I'll have to start with the Devastation, the war that nearly destroyed my world. No one's sure who started it anymore; all that we do know is that it left the world in ruins. The United States, the Russian Federation, the People's Republic of China … every superpower was decimated. The nuclear exchange would've killed everyone, if not for the Rebirth."

Mikaen let his gaze fall as he continued, "Huge rifts opened across the globe, spewing this strange energy out into the air. People who were directly exposed were left changed; remnants of genetic code long forgotten or something like that. I'm no scientist. Those who weren't changed or protected gained magical abilities. More importantly, the energy seemed to nullify the radiation. How, I don't know, but the Rebirth negated the nuclear winter."

"Still, the world was destroyed. Three-quarters of the population were dead, all major governments were gone, and what cities managed to avoid the nuclear missiles were torn apart by the formation of the Rips. There were a few groups that formed to help the survivors; in the old United States, the biggest were the Ranger's Collective and The Restored Earth Alliance. The Rangers helped rebuild settlements and utilities, and the Restored Earth Alliance was the government and military. The two groups seemed to be cooperating right up until the Restored Earth Alliance turned on the Rangers, pretty much destroying the entire organization. Soon after, they released the Doctrine of Humanity, calling for the segregation of the non-humans and magi from the so-called pure humans. They abandoned the hybrid magic engines in favor of traditional fossil fuel engines, which is why we call them 'Revs'."

Mikaen snorted. "They called us phreacs. I'm not sure if it's short for anything; I always thought they were stupid enough to think we wouldn't notice they spelled 'freak' wrong. Communities finally getting back on their feet were culled without warning, the non-humans taken from their homes, sometimes even from their families. That's about the time I woke up in the remains of a city we now call Bridges."

"I woke up alone, my clothes in tatters beside the rift that pretty much bisects what's left of the town. I had no memory of who I was, or how I got there. I wasn't a complete blank slate; I could read, do basic math, drive a car … but information on who I was before the Devastation, how I came to be there, or how I managed to survive literally three feet from the Rip … nothing."

"I ended up living in the local supermarket. There were still some supplies left, so I scavenged for a while. Didn't see a living soul until Jyle stumbled into my store, Revs hot on his trail. He's an elf, an illusionist, and a former Ranger, so he was pretty much a massive target for them. We managed to elude the Revs and escaped to the west. We ran into Jade, a Rev deserter who could bend the light around her so she and anything close to her was invisible to the naked eye."

"We continued running, the Revs close behind us until we reached what we now call Misakren. It was an old redwood forest before the Devastation, but close proximity to a Rip mutated the trees, making them even bigger, with foliage that blocked out the sun. Surrounded, we finally made what we thought would be our last stand. We did well, but there were hundreds against us at that point, with more on the way. That's when Syrin saved us."

"She's a dryad. Don't know if you have those here; basically, she's a living avatar of the woods. We were scared out of our minds when the trees started swatting away the Revs, but we managed to press our advantage and send the Revs running."

Mikaen allowed himself a chuckle before continuing, "After the fight, we spoke at length and decided that something had to be done. That was when the Knights of the Star were born."

"We started small; a family here, a small town there. We saved everyone we could from the Revs and brought them back to Misakren, where we began to build a sanctuary high in the trees, free from the prying eyes of the Revs. It didn't take long for others to join us; other former Rangers, Revs who were secretly hiding their magical talents or just didn't feel right about what their organization was doing, men and women looking to protect their families … even orphans barely in their teens looking for payback. It didn't take long before we were a match for the military might of the Revs; city by city, we pushed out their occupying forces until all that was left was the Fort, the Revs main stronghold. We are no idiots, though; we've been collecting data for the coming attack. That's why it's so important that I get back; this chip contains detailed schematics of the Fort; traps, security fields, troop rotations … the works. I picked it up from our agent inside, and was on the way back to Misakren when the ground opened beneath my feet. Next thing I knew, I was here on Vinta, that One guy checking my pulse."

After waiting a good minute for some kind or response from his host, Mikaen asked, "Elduran? Are you okay?"

Elduran shook his head. "My apologies. Something in your thoughts distracted me."

"Oh … right." Mikaen shifted slightly in his chair.

To his surprise, Elduran laughed. "You aren't comfortable with having your mind read. It's okay; most non-vuestan find it a bit discomfiting."

"It's not …" Mikaen sighed, not sure how to say it. "I don't care much for the idea of someone prying into my memories."

"Don't worry; I can only read what you are thinking at a given moment. Sometimes I get a glimpse of something else, but I never trained as a Seeker. I can't go any further than you let me. Would you care for a drink?"

Mikaen glanced up and shook his head. Shrugging, Elduran held his hand out. Almost instantly, a wisp of energy ran along his arm and concentrated in his palm, becoming a small fluted glass of glowing blue liquid.

"The juice of mevos fruit creates a very sweet wine. A bit too sweet for some, but it has always been to my liking." Elduran set the glass on the table. "Now, as for these Revs …"

A flash of anger passed through Mikaen, so intense that Elduran fell silent; no doubt sensing it.

Mikaen quelled the emotion quickly and said, "I'm sorry."

"No need to apologize. From what little I've seen, your anger is more than justified." Elduran took another sip of wine. "I can see why part of you wants to go back to Earth so badly."

"Excuse me?"

"You've seen much suffering at the hands of these Revs. No doubt you wish to end the threat they represent to protect the survivors of this … Desecration was it?"

"Devastation. What did you mean by 'part of me'?"

Elduran leaned toward Mikaen. "Tell me something first, my friend; are you happy with your life?"

Mikaen was taken aback by the strange question. "Well, I keep innocent people safe from the Revs. I'd say that it's as good cause as any."

"That's not what I asked." Elduran leaned forward even more. "Are you happy with your life?"

Mikaen thought about his last conversations with Syrin, Jade, and Jyle. He had been rather rough with them, but he knew they were just worried about him, afraid that if he kept throwing himself at the most dangerous assignments, he'd end up dead … just like her.

He bowed his head. "As long as the people I protect are safe, it doesn't matter if I'm happy."

Elduran sat back, a satisfied smile on his face. "Why don't you tell me about Maria Soleil?"

Mikaen's head jerked back up. "What?!"

"When I first asked you about Earth, the first thing you thought about wasn't the Knights or the Revs; it was her. She hangs in your thoughts, overlaying everything else."

"Jeronem told me he sensed something." Mikaen said, "I thought it was just my anxiety."

"Yes, he's sensitive to that kind of thing, far more than I am." Elduran smiled briefly before shaking his head and returning his gaze to Mikaen. "You didn't mention her earlier. Tell me about her."

Mikaen didn't really want to talk about Maria. Just thinking about her brought a dull ache to his chest. Nevertheless, he found himself saying, "We met in the ruins of Bridges, a few months before Jyle showed up. She wasn't human; the Devastation changed her physically, making her look like she was part cat or something."

Elduran nodded. "She must've been tigreth, or something similar. They're one of a dozen Shoran tribes. Sorry for the interruption; Please, go on."

"She had soft white fur and long blonde hair, and her eyes were this deep shade of purple." He bowed his head; the ache in his chest was getting stronger. "I've seen a lot of non-humans. Heck, one of my best friends is an elf. Still, I never met anyone like her."

"What was she like?"

"She was beautiful and kind, but she also had a real tomboy-streak. She always told me I was too serious, that I needed to lighten up. She used to say 'Just 'cause the world's gone to crap is no reason to be so gloomy all the time'."

Elduran chuckled. "Wise woman. I can tell you cared a great deal for her."

"More than anything … but now she's gone." Anger, fierce, burning anger not at his enemies but at himself began building up in his chest. He added bitterly, "All my power and strength weren't able to help me protect her."

Elduran looked sympathetic. "I'm sure it wasn't your fault, Mikaen."

"I knew her better than anyone!" Mikaen said, unable to keep the anger out of his voice. Part of him knew he was being irrational, but he just couldn't keep it in check anymore. "I should have been able to stop her!"

"It was out of your hands. Even if you had been there, nothing may have changed-"

The anger building in his chest suddenly burst. Mikaen was on his feet in an instant, glaring at Elduran, "What the hell do you know? You weren't there! She wasn't just my fiancée; she was my best friend, better than Jyle or Jade, or even Syrin, and now she's dead! If I hadn't been so careless, she'd still be alive!"

Elduran regarded Mikaen silently, his calm demeanor making Mikaen's anger fade almost instantly. Realizing what he had just said, Mikaen suddenly felt ashamed. He slowly sat back down and put a hand to his head.

"I-I'm sorry." He told Elduran. "I don't know what came over me."

Elduran raised a hand to stop Mikaen's apology. "No, young one, I am sorry. I was prodding. I must admit, I sometimes let my curiosity get the better of me. Tell me, Mikaen: would you be willing to do me a favor?"

Regaining his composure, Mikaen said, "Of course."

"It's going to take a while to compile information about possible causes of teleportation and possible ways back, and in that time, you are more than welcome to stay in Homestead. During your stay, I'd like to hear more about you and Earth for later publication."

"I can't see how information about Earth would be of much interest." said Mikaen, thinking if what little he had seen of Vinta, "I mean, it's not as nice as what I've seen of this world."

"I'm not thinking historical accounts. I'm thinking science-fiction novels."

Mikaen stared at Elduran incredulously for a moment before bursting into laughter that was more from relief than amusement.

Elduran chuckled along with him. "If you can laugh, then you're not all gone yet."

Still laughing, Mikaen said, "I don't know what's come over me today."

"Buried feelings are a lot like stream energy, my young friend; if you keep them inside, they burst out when you least expect it." Elduran rose to his feet. "On that note, let's go see how Kathryn and Jeronem are doing. I don't know about you, but all this talking has made me hungry."

As they walked to the kitchen, Mikaen commented, "You know, I've spoken more to you and Jeronem today than I've said to anyone in the past three months, even my closest friends."

"Do you feel better for it?"

After a brief contemplative pause, Mikaen nodded. "Yeah, I think I do. I just don't know why it all poured out of me like that."

"Must be my magical influence." Elduran stopped and snapped his fingers. "That reminds me. Go on ahead, Mikaen; there's something I need to check before dinner."

As Mikaen headed to the kitchen, Elduran climbed the stairs to the second floor landing, where Narrator Number One was leaning against the railing.

One smirked at the elder vuestan as he approached. "What, no flying spells?"

"None that wouldn't send me through the ceiling." He put a hand on One's shoulder. "You did a good thing here, One. That boy definitely needs some guidance."

"Yeah, well, like I said … if anyone can do it, it's you." One tapped Elduran's right pocket, adding "Nice trick with the psionic amplifier, by the way."

Grinning, Elduran pulled the small purple crystal out of his pocket. "Did you see how much it took to bring those thoughts out of him? Your friend's got some serious mental strength. It's a shame all his pain and suffering is keeping it in check."

"Yeah, well … I was around when the Revs were running amok. It wasn't pleasant, not by a long shot."

"Honey?"

The kitchen door below opened, revealing Kathryn's curious face. "Honey? Dinner's ready!"

"Be right there!" Elduran looked back at One. "You're more than welcome to join us, of course."

One thought about it; Kathryn had been an excellent cook the last time he graced Homestead with his presence, the vuestan woman displaying just as much skill with a knife in the kitchen as she did in more dangerous situations. Still, there would be some awkwardness, what with Mikaen being down there and all.

"Next time." One told him. "I promise."

Elduran smiled as he shook One's hand. "Your word is good enough for me."

One watched as Elduran descended the stairs and disappeared behind the kitchen door.

"Elduran and Killer Katy. Go figure." Shaking his head and chuckling, One walked through the door that appeared behind him, the words 'Please Use Other Door' visible on a faded sign on the lower half of the door. As he closed the door, it vanished from the wall without a trace.

6: Chapter 5 - The Elsewhere Incorporate

The Elsewhere is a place beyond the constraints of space and time. Some believe it to be removed from both; others believe that it encompasses all of reality at every point in time. Which of these is the truth is ultimately not important, at least not to the Dreamers who live there.

The Elsewhere consists of three main parts; the floating island upon which everything is situated, the forest surrounding the Elsewhere Mansion, and of course the Elsewhere Mansion itself, a towering pile of wood, metal, stone, and synthetics that has somehow come together in a mishmash of building styles to form a structure that is far more stable than it appears.

The mansion is divided internally into floors, each floor belonging to a particular Dreamer. Each floor has a social area that all of the Dreamers can access and a private area accessible only to those who the master of the floor allows. Floors are connected via a large number of 'gray rooms', which range from direct floor-to-floor passageways (stairways and the like), to needlessly complex (such as The Hedge Maze), to downright strange (such as The Tea Room, which is empty save for a snooty-looking butler type who always carries a glass of ice tea on a silver tray. I am told the tea is quite tasty).

While teleportation is possible within the Elsewhere, teleporting to the Elsewhere itself is impossible for all but the most skilled of Dreamers. Fortunately, we have an alternative: The CPD. The CPD (short for Conveniently Placed Door) isn't always convenient, isn't necessarily placed, and often isn't actually a door. It is, however, an opening that can be summoned by a Dreamer needing to transit between the Elsewhere and the realm we refer to as 'the mainstream'. While the creator of the CPD is considered another Elsewhere mystery, the residents of Elsewhere are certainly glad of its presence.

The door itself seems to be triggered by thought, usually a Dreamer wishing to transition between the Elsewhere and the mainstream. It normally opens to wherever the Dreamer in question wanted to go, but some of the stronger-willed Dreamers can 'lock' the Elsewhere side of the door in place, essentially making all incoming Dreamers arrive in the same place. This is why One arrived not on his own floor, but on the floor known as 'The Library'.

Looking around and seeing shelves of tomes both ancient and new instead of his collection of movies and games, One let out a snort. "Huh. Either my floor's been redecorated, or someone's a bastard."

"I heard that, One." Came the reply from somewhere beyond the stacks.

The books, always a bit on the skittish side, rustled slightly on the shelves. One eyed them warily, but the tomes quickly settled back into their places without incident. He navigated his way through the maze of books until he found himself in the main foyer of the Library. A large wooden table with a fine dark polish occupied the center of the foyer, surrounded by a wild array of chairs, each modeled after a certain Dreamer's idea of comfort. A large fireplace occupied the back of the foyer, a few brave books laying on top of the stonework to enjoy the warmth. They weren't the only ones; a man in a rocking chair sat at a comfortable distance from the fire, a book in his hands. Without looking up, the man motioned One to approach.

Eyeing the plush armchair at the main table longingly, One headed toward the distant fireplace. The lighting grew dim as he approached until the only light came from the crackling fire, the flickering flames sending shadows scurrying across the dark bookshelves.

Much like One, the Dreamer sitting in the rocking chair didn't look particularly noteworthy. There's something benign about khakis and denim button-down shirts that belies the idea that a person might be one of the more powerful beings in the known universe. Still, this man (known to the other Dreamers as 'Teach') is the closest thing the Elsewhere has ever had to a leader.

Teach is a kind-hearted soul who is constantly scouring reality for ways that the Dreamers can help the inhabitants of the mainstream, more commonly referred to among Dreamers as 'norms'. A person might wonder why he would bother with these assignments. After all, we Dreamers have a considerable amount of power at our fingertips. There is literally nothing to keep us from remaining at the Elsewhere for eternity, amusing ourselves as we see fit.

It was Teach's belief, however, that our powers were given to us to make reality a better place. "To bring happiness to others is to bring happiness to oneself", he once told me. If so, then he has much cause for happiness himself; no other Dreamer had completed as many assignments as Teach. During his time as a Dreamer, Teach stopped wars, averted disasters that would have destroyed whole galaxies, and so much more.

Not all Dreamers are as selfless as Teach, however. As such, he sometimes he has to resort to trickery to get other Dreamers to take assignments. No one else knows more about the other Dreamers than Teach, and no one else knows how to prey on secret weaknesses or past guilt to get them on his side, which is why One approached the elder Dreamer with such reluctance.

"So." said One, coming to a halt by Teach's chair, "What thankless assignment are you going to try to shove down my throat now, Teach?"

The man in the chair carefully marked his place in his book and set it on the arm of his chair, commenting, "Now, now, One. Let's keep our dialogue civil. I was just wondering how you were doing. After all, it's been over twenty years since you've been in the Elsewhere."

One crossed his arms. "I'm fine, thanks. Which way to my floor?"

Teach gestured to the space beside him. "Have a seat, One."

"My floor."

"Is it too much to ask that we have a friendly conversation?"

Letting out a resigned sigh, One muttered, "I suppose not."

He motioned to the library tables behind him. The puffy blue armchair he eyed earlier whizzed through the air and landed gently behind him. As One sat down, he asked, "What's been going on since I left?"

"Well let's see; Jay's been hounding Mom for some of his memory fragments regarding the time he spent on Earth, Two and Fate have been fighting something fierce lately; you might want to watch out if you're around Two anytime in the near future. Max just perfected his portable holographic projector, and Melody has been teaching Atraius how to play the harp."

"Nice to know the Elsewhere hasn't collapsed without me."

Teach chuckled. "Indeed. How about you, One? How have you been?"

"Overworked." One replied wearily, "Got stuck on a chain of assignments."

"Really? Tell me about it."

One took a deep breath and told Teach everything; the meteor incident on the desert world of Janis, fixing the trajectory of Algos, and hunting down a particularly nasty nightmare in the Dream Realm.

Teach looked impressed. "No wonder you've been gone so long! Even with the time distortion in the Dream Realm, you must've been active for at least fifty years."

One put a hand to his head. "Felt like a lot longer. I think I could navigate the Dream Realm with my eyes closed."

Teach laughed appreciatively. "I know the feeling."

"Anyway, after dispelling the nightmare, I went to Vinta for a little vacation."

"Creator knows you deserve a break." Teach started to pick up his book again.

One snorted. "The Creator must've not gotten the memo. I was there for about an hour when I nearly get crushed by some knight from Earth."

Teach's hand froze a few inches from the leather binding of his book. "A knight, you say?"

"Yeah, from the Knights of the Star no less. I mean, how does a guy from Earth end up on a planet millions of miles away?"

"What was this knight's name?" Teach asked quietly, avoiding One's gaze.

"Mikaen or Mikean or something like that." Shaking his head, One continued, "Anyway, I pointed him to Homestead. Elduran said he'd take care of things for me."

"Elduran and Kathryn Thistlethorn? From the Ackibar Assignment?"

"Yeah. The kid's got a few issues he needs to work out. To be honest, I was glad to be rid of him; even with Elduran helping him, it's gonna take months to fight that dude's personal demons."

Teach looked at One for a long moment. "One," He said eventually, "I have to ask you to do me a favor."

One stared disbelievingly at Teach. "Cyber-friggin-cripes, dude! I let my guard down one second, thinking that maybe just for once you aren't going to try to shove an assignment on me, and you go and do it!"

"One …"

Rising to his feet, One said firmly, "You said it yourself, I deserve a vacation!"

"This is the last assignment, I swear. Look, it's about Mikaen."

"Why am I not surprised?"

"He's in trouble, One!"

"Of course he's in trouble; he just got flung half-way across the galaxy! That doesn't mean I have to go help him!"

Teach frowned. "Are you saying he's not worth saving?"

"Of course not!" One replied, "I'm just saying maybe Jay or Galen can take this one. Neither of them has had an assignment in decades!"

"I'm sorry, One, but it has to be you. Let me explain-"

"Screw it. I'm outta here." One stalked away, muttering beneath his breath.

"One!" Teach called out, "This isn't just some twitch assignment! Earth could be in danger!"

One snorted as he exited the room via stairwell. "Big deal. Earth's always in danger."

Someone behind him snorted in response. "Tell me about it. If I had a dime for every time that ball of mud avoided becoming cosmic dust, I'd … well, I'd have an ass-load of dimes."

The speaker, a lanky young man with light brown hair and a mischievous look on his face, was sitting on the stairs going up. As One turned, the young man stood up and grinned.

One's face split into a wide grin. "Two! Good to see you, dude!"

Narrator Number Two slapped his partner on the back. "Likewise. The Matinee's downstairs today, by the way."

One was glad to hear this. The floors of the Elsewhere tend to move around from time to time. Teach brought in a famous explorer to try and map it out; that was about twenty years ago, and we're still waiting for him to turn up again.

As they began to descend the stairwell, One told Two, "You wouldn't believe the crap I've been through."

Two smirked at One, saying, "I know; I heard your conversation with Teach. Way to put that goody two-shoes in his place."

"Yeah, well even I get sick of it sometimes," said One as he reached the bottom of the stairwell and pushed open the door to his floor.

Bookshelves lined the walls of One's floor, but these weren't filled with the historical texts and biographies like those in the Library. Fantasy, science fiction, mystery, horror, and adventure novels, movies, and games were crammed into every opening on the shelves. Near the back end of the floor stood an enormous television that earned One's floor the nickname, 'The Matinee'. As he walked though the floor, the shelves automatically moved out of his way, merging seamlessly with other shelves in his wake.

"It's nice to be home." One said as he eased himself into his puffy blue easy chair.

Two plopped himself on a battered sofa directly across from the television and reached for one of the controllers lying on the table beside him. "Wanna play something?"

One considered it for a moment before shaking his head. "Nah. You go ahead, though."

With a shrug, Two waved a hand at the television. It activated immediately, along with one of the game consoles. One set his feet on a velvet ottoman and pulled a drink from his chair's side compartment. Soda in hand, he watched as Two played a video game of a norm sport that had been popular before the Devastation. One was never fond of sports games, seeing as they depict the mundane rather than the extraordinary. Two, however, has a way of altering mundane sports games to make them interesting and (more importantly), fun. The landmines on the playing field are an excellent example.

One of the linemen of the computer-controlled team was making a run for the goal when he abruptly exploded into a million flaming bits. Two roared with laughter at the look of horror on the faces of the former football player's teammates as the ball bounced across the field to Two's quarterback. Unfortunately for Two, objects with at least a smattering of intelligence that exist in the Elsewhere have a strange tendency to become fully intelligent. The computer controlled team pulled out shotguns and systematically eradicated Two's entire team.

"What the … aww!" Tossing aside the controller and crossing his arms, Two muttered, "Stupid cheating game."

One said, "It wouldn't cheat if you stopped goading it."

Two waved One's remark aside. "What's the fun of a sports game if you can't gloat when you win?"

One couldn't see the fun in sports games at all, land mines or no, but refrained from saying so.

Standing up, Two asked, "Grab me something to drink, would ya, bud?"

Nodding, One reached under his chair for another drink only to find a book entitled, "History of the Earth, year 2031 A.D., abridged" crammed inside the cooler.

He pulled the book out, feeling more than a little annoyed. "Cute. Looks like Teach isn't giving up."

"Huh?" Two glanced at One, his eyes catching on the book. "History of the … heh. Subtle, isn't he?"

One tossed the book haphazardly behind him and pulled a drink out of his cooler for Two. After tossing his friend the drink, One returned to his chair in a bad mood. This was just the kind of thing One expected: Teach didn't get his way, so now he was going to harass One until he caved. No wonder Ukaroh left.

Shaking his head, One muttered, "Not this time."

Two glanced back at the book. "What's he want you to do now? Another planet-patching job?"

"I don't know." One said, rubbing his forehead. "Something about some stupid norm I ran into earlier."

Still looking at the book, Two tossed the controller to One. "Let me see."

One scoffed as he tossed the book to Two. "You can read? Wow, things have changed."

Two made a rude gesture at One before opening the book. He flipped through a few pages of it before snorting in disgust. "Geez, no pornography, no naughty language. This is exactly why I don't hang around the Library." He tossed the book aside in disgust.

The book slid to a halt beside One's chair, still open. Even though he knew he'd be better off leaving it alone, One picked up the book.

"Careful, One." Two warned.

"Relax. It's not like I'm just gonna up and go because of words in a book." Sitting down, One browsed through the pages, muttering as he went along. "Found in Bridges, helped found the Knights of the Star, lost his fiancée, vanished mysteriously near M-Rip in Nevada."

One slammed the book shut. "See? I have no desire to suddenly rush off to his aid."

Two slapped One on the back, saying with pride, "That's my bro! Now grab a controller so we can play something!"

One set the book aside and picked up his game controller. Within moments, One and Two were immersed in their favorite joint venture; blowing up alien monsters, evil robots, and other nasty creatures. They often did that sort of thing in the mainstream, but enjoyed games more since they didn't have to clean up the mess afterwards

While playing, One commented, "I heard you and Fate are at it again."

"Oh, she's just being a typical woman; nosy, overbearing, and whiney. Probably her time of the month or something."

One knew his partner too well to accept that as an answer. "What did you do this time? Itching powder in her underwear drawer? Turned her black makeup neon? Let another aggressive religious group on her floor?"

Two pretended to look insulted. "Wha … me? I would never play such juvenile jokes on a sister Dreamer! I'm hurt that you think so lowly of me, One."

One gave Two a look that made it clear he didn't believe him.

Grinning impishly, Two said, "Let's just say, I've seen a side of Fate most people haven't seen before."

"Fine, don't tell me. Probably better if I don't know about it anyway; she won't come after me."

One continued playing for a while, trying to ignore his sleepiness until a particularly deep yawn made him finally put down his controller. "That's enough for me, I think. I'm heading to bed."

Jerking a thumb at the window, Two said, "It's still daylight outside."

With a wave of One's hand, daylight faded until only darkness lay outside the window.

Shrugging, Two asked, "Mind if I keep playing for a while?"

"Sure. Try to keep it down though."

As One walked through the door to the private section of his floor, Two called out, "Goodnight, bro."

7: Chapter 6 - The New Guy

The Dreamer known as 'Mom' is a sweet woman with long red hair and a pretty face that always seems to be smiling. Years before she became a Dreamer, Mom excelled as a receptionist because of her cheerful demeanor and her love of meeting new people. As such, it came as no surprise that her floor became what the Dreamers now call 'The Lobby'.

Mom's floor bears little resemblance to any of the places where she worked as a norm; rather, it is how she feels a lobby should be. The bulk of the Lobby's main room is filled with furniture that is pleasant to look at and worn enough to be comfortable. The floor is covered with a thick and fluffy carpet that is easy on the feet and the eyes. Although the color of the carpet and walls change according to Mom's whim, they always seem to emanate a peaceful, restful feeling among those visiting. The carpets will also will massage your feet if you walk on them barefoot, which can take some people by surprise.

The most prominent feature of the Lobby is the great oak desk that encircles the place Mom sits in her electric lounging chair. The desk contains more than just her computer, though … and yes, she has a computer. Max set up a network within the Elsewhere, mostly for storing information, though it's rumored she gossips with the solitaire program on occasion. No, the desk also contains a glass display of several strange artifacts: an old silver ring, a paper crane with a red kiss on the side, a two-headed coin displaying the face of a deity known as the Dreamweaver, and a chewed pen with a sticker that read 'Use the door next time', just to name a few. While these hardly seemed like the things a person might want to display, they were more than just objects; they held the memories of Dreamers within their simple forms, memories that said Dreamers chose to forget for reasons they no longer remembered. Mom kept them safe, and more importantly, away from their Creators. Ironically, the first thing most people want to do when they learn they willingly forgot something is usually to try to find out what it was they forgot.

Two was arguing with Mom when One stepped out of the elevator. At the sight of One, Two let out a snigger; half of One's hair was sticking up at odd angles, and he had huge black bags under his eyes. "You look like hell, dude."

"Good gracious, One." Mom asked, hurrying from around the desk to feel One's forehead. "You look awful! Are you feeling sick?"

"I'm fine, Mom." One told her. "Just a bit tired, that's all."

Two scoffed, "Tired? Last time I saw you, you said you were gonna get some sleep!"

"I tried." One held a hand to his head, his eyes shut. "I kept dreaming about that norm I ran into earlier: the ruins of Earth, people suffering … horrible stuff."

"Dude, that was a month ago! I know I haven't seen you around, but I didn't think you'd been sleeping the whole time!"

A month? It felt like he had been dreaming for a long time, but a whole month? It had been a dreamless sleep too: no Dream Realm shenanigans. Just as he started to wonder as to the cause, something of his conversation with Teach abruptly floated across One's mind, namely the part where he told Teach that he wasn't going to help so much as a kitten out of a tree for at least a month.

Staring at the ceiling, One shouted, "I'm not taking the assignment, Teach!"

"Teach's been hounding One again," Two explained, seeing Mom's questioning glance. "Got some bug up his ass."

"Language!" Mom shot a small spark of electricity at Two, making him yelp and clutch his numb arm. Reverting to her kind demeanor, she turned her attention back to One. "I can't believe he'd try to send you out again after how long you were gone last time. I mean, you just got back! Well, don't you worry. I'll have a word with Teach."

One sat down on a nearby couch, muttering, "Don't bother; you know the way he is."

Patting his friend's shoulder sympathetically, Two said, "Why don't you head back to your floor and relax for a bit? Watch a few movies, play a few games, that sort of thing."

"Nah, not tired right now," One said, "I think I'll get something to eat. Want to come with?"

Before Two could reply, Mom said, "Just a moment; I have something I need to discuss with you."

One and Two said simultaneously, "What?"

"Your training duty. There's a new Dreamer in the Elsewhere."

One groaned, "Cyber-cripes, Mom! That's not fair!"

Two, on the other hand, found One's predicament extremely funny. "I'm surprised at you, One! You know perfectly well that it's every Dreamer's responsibility to help train new Dreamers."

"I'm glad you feel that way," Mom handed the folder to Two, a smirk on her face. "Teach feels that you would be perfect for the job, seeing as you did such a good job with finding and training One."

Two's laughter froze in his throat. "Wha … but One taught himself before I even got to him! One, help me out here!"

One, however, was already halfway through the door to what was at that moment a spiraling stairwell. As he shut the door behind him, he heard Two mutter, "Son of a flat-chested lesbian."

Truth be told, One would have much rather had Two's help finding the Kitchen, but training new Dreamers was an extremely time-consuming and exhausting business. Two would have probably asked One to help, and then disappeared at the nearest opportunity, like he had done every time they teamed up. Besides, One had his own problems with which to deal; he was still having a hard time shutting out the images from his dreams: cities in ruins, innocent people being massacred by Revs, and other horrible stuff that Teach had no business sticking in One's subconscious.

One shook his head, trying to cast all the images out of his mental storage. Food was the immediate priority. Pushing Teach and Two from his mind, he considered what he'd get to eat … that is, if he ever found the Kitchen.

"Shame I didn't take Mom's elevator." One said aloud.

The movement of floors within the Elsewhere is, as mentioned before, difficult to predict. A stairwell may lead to the Matinee for weeks, only lead to the Library a day later for no discernible reason. Teach had a theory that it tied in with each floor's corresponding Dreamer in some way, but One never had much of a head for Teach's lessons on the physics (or lack thereof) of being a Dreamer. Mom's elevator, however, can go to any of the floors instantly; you only have to know the number she has designated to each floor. One's was nine, and he was fairly certain Two's was five. Beyond that, he was pretty much just guessing. He was fairly certain the Kitchen was either six or seven, not that it mattered. Still, it gave his mind something to play with as he finished making his way up the ever-widening spiral staircase.

Today, the stairwell ended at a door with which One was not familiar. Gray Room doors commonly manifested in a similar manner to the CPD, that is to say, blending in to whatever walls they were around at the moment. This door, however, wasn't even remotely trying to blend in; rather, with its neon bulbs, bright fluorescent paint, and blinking lights, it seemed to be trying its damnedest to catch as much attention as possible.

After a few moment's contemplation, his curiosity got the better of him. He pushed the doors open and stepped into the largest arcade he had ever seen. He stared at the sea of arcade cabinets that surrounded him, his ears picking up a veritable orchestra of electronic beeps, bloops, and midi music.

One glanced around the floor for some sign of a resident, be he or she a Dreamer or otherwise, but at the moment, the floor seemed empty. Hunger temporarily forgotten, he ventured through what is now known as 'The Arcade'. Most seemed to be from Earth, their appearance bringing with them a wave of nostalgia. Some were standard arcades with their bright buttons and bulbous joysticks. Others were much more elaborate machines, designed like cockpits of fighter jets and spaceships. One particularly impressive cabinet included a full body harness, a necessary feature seeing as the orb-like cabinet rotated in all directions.

One continued on to the center of the floor, where a single arcade game stood out from the rest. It consisted of a large screen and control console supported by an impressive sound system. two metal pads sat on the ground in front of the screen, each pad having a button for each cardinal direction.

"I remember this!" A grin spread across his face, One stepped onto one of the metal pads. It was a rhythm game that used the player's feet rather than his or her hands. The game mechanic was fairly simple on some songs, frustratingly difficult on others. One looked for a way to activate the game, but like all the other machines, the dance simulator had no visible coin slot.

"Allow me!" A pale and slender hand shot forward and tapped the screen.

Instantly, the screen erupted into a dazzling array of colors, the mammoth speakers began thumping out a dance beat, and neon lighting installed throughout the machine flickered and pulsed in time with the music.

One glanced at the strange young man standing on the pad next to him. The anime character drawn on the young man's shirt coupled with the kanji on his sleeves seemed to suggest some Asian affiliation, but with his pale skin, bright blue eyes, and curly brown hair, the young man was clearly about as Asian as a grilled cheese sandwich.

"And you are?" One asked, raising an eyebrow.

The young Dreamer struck a pose he obviously thought was impressive, singing, "Wong Fo-oh Lee-ee, massster of the dance!"

One scoffed. "So you say. Let's see what you've got!"

Fifteen minutes later, One was clutching the support bar attached to the back of his pad, trying desperately to catch his breath. Wong wasn't even breathing heavily.

"Okay … I give. You're definitely better at this than I am." One said between breaths.

Wong grinned, showing a wide array of white teeth. "Oh, that was nothing, Ichi-san. That was just a teeny tiny little warm-up. Still, if you want to take a break …"

Without missing a beat, he snapped his fingers. A chair appeared behind One; it seemed to be balancing on a single leg, but seemed sturdy enough as One plopped down in it.

As he caught his breath, One watched Wong hop, flip, spin, and twirl across the dance pads with astounding speed and dexterity, his long curly brown hair flying in all directions. Wong finished his song with an amazing triple flip in mid-air and hopped off of the metal pad.

His breathing fairly normal, One asked, "I don't suppose you know the way to the Kitchen."

"Indeed I do! I had Eddicious and Berticai whip me up a big batch of ramen. I am still a bit hungry though. You?"

"Sure. Could you-"

Not waiting to hear the rest, Wong grabbed One by the arm and shouted, "To the Kitchen!"

The next thing he knew, One found himself being pulled at a speed usually reserved for people who discover they have a large slobbering beast behind them though given the nature of the Elsewhere, said monster could very well just be asking for directions. Wong's hand clamped on One's arm like a vice grip, the two Dreamers slid down a fire-escape pole, ran past a confused Mom in the Lobby, dashed up another staircase to the Workshop, leapt through Max's matter-transporter, bounced off an enormous pinball paddle, and navigated through a maze-like series of hallways before finally reaching the Kitchen. Once inside, Wong released his grip. One promptly collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath.

"Shoulda gone back the Lobby," he wheezed.

The Kitchen was a steaming mess of ovens and stoves, cooking implements hanging from the ceiling, and ingredients in varying stages of freshness. Tantalizing smells hung in the air like a low-hanging fog, strange combined yet still delicious. After a few moments, two men emerged from the steam rising from the cooking area, one short and a bit on the rotund side while the other was tall and thin. They were dressed as cooks, though not of the same kind; the short looked like the kind of cook in a greasy spoon, while the tall fellow looked like the sort of chef you'd find in a very high-class restaurant.

The shorter man called out, "Well bomb my dodongos! It's Narrator Number One! I thought I heard someone say you were back!"

Before One could reply, the fat Dreamer slapped his thin friend on the shoulders, saying, "Make our friend a plate of our famous country fried chicken strips, heavy on the spice, 'kay Eddie?"

Eddie nodded in a very elaborate manner.

Wong piped in, "And another bowl of ramen for me!"

The thin Dreamer bobbed his head again and wandered back into the wall of steam.

Throwing a sweaty arm around One, Bert gave a hearty laugh. "So, scuttlebutt around the Elsewhere's that you flat out refused an assignment from Teach. About time, if you ask me."

"I'm sorry?"

Bert let out another boisterous laugh. "How long were you here between the last two assignments? A week at most, if I recall. Teach barely gives you a chance to take a breath before starting you on something new. I can't believe he didn't even wait a day before trying to shove another job on you."

One muttered, "You and me both."

"Teach is a fuddy-duddy!" Wong piped in. "He yelled at me just because I borrowed a few of his books to prop up one of my arcade cabinets. It was just a historical treatise. I mean, who really reads those anyway?"

"Teach." One replied dourly. "Never saw the appeal myself."

Bert snapped his fingers, "That reminds me. Max wanted to see you about a project he's working on. He hit a bit of a snag with-"

One held up a hand to stay Bert's words. "I'd rather not hear about it. In fact, don't tell him you saw me, okay?"

Bert nodded, a wide smile across his face. "Taking a break from the rigmarole of being a Dreamer, eh? I don't blame ya a bit. Why, just last week, I … oh, there's Eddie with your food."

Eddie emerged from the wall of steam with a fresh plate of crispy chicken strips and a steaming bowl of noodles. He navigated through the hazard-filled area behind the counter with practiced ease before snapping to attention before One and presenting him the plate.

One took his plate, saying gratefully, "Much appreciated, man."

Eddie nodded, a small smile on his face.

Bert slapped One on the shoulder again, almost making One drop his food. "Well, we'd better get back to work. We've got a feast to prepare."

Seeing One's curious look, Bert explained, "Our boss just had a daughter, and you know how it is with heads of state; they just have to throw a party. I'm not complainin', mind. Anyway, take it easy, One!"

One waved at them both as they disappeared into the steam.

Wong commented, "Nice guys. Does Bert ever talk?"

"I've never heard him say anything." One said, distracted. Teach was probably waiting for him to come back to his floor, no doubt to try and push the assignment on him. What One needed was a distraction so he could slip into his private rooms.

One glanced at Wong. The newest member of the Elsewhere Incorporate was already slurping down the last few mouthfuls of his ramen. A smile slowly crossed One's face.

"Say, Wong," One said, putting his arm around the newest Dreamer's shoulders. "Would you mind doing me a little favor?"

8: Chapter 7 - A Little Luck

The next time One ventured out of the private section of his floor, he found Two and Wong waiting for him. Wong was playing an old game on One's massive television while Two slept with his head on the arm of the couch.

With a smirk, One slammed the door behind him, waking Two with a loud snort. One's erstwhile partner peered around the room blearily for a moment before letting out a yawn.

"Oh, there you are." Two stood up and stretched. He let out a relieved groan, the popping of various joints audible. "Wondered when you'd come up for air again."

"Morning, Two. Morning, Wong." Grinning at Wong, One added, "Thanks for helping me out the other day. I owe you one, man"

Wong beamed at him. Two, however, looked less than amused.

Approaching One as he walked to his favorite chair, Two said, "Yeah, about that; Teach just spent the better part of an hour chewing my ear off about not keeping an eye on my little friend here."

"Ah, he's just mad that I was able to slip by without him noticing." One picked up a nearby controller and joined the game to Wong's obvious delight.

Sitting down next to One, Two continued, "Did you really have to persuade the Dreamer I'm supposed to be responsible for to roll up Teach in a big wad of junk and push him out the nearest window?"

Wong interrupted, "Katamari. It's called a katamari."

"Thank you for the clarification. Shut up." Turning back to One, Two said, "It took three weeks for Atraius to happen by and free Teach from the …" he glared at Wong before finishing, "… katamari."

One looked at Two incredulously. "Wait; you're giving me a lecture? I thought you hated Teach."

"That's 'cause I do hate the bugger. Not 'hate' hate, you know, just a kind of 'ugh, this guy is annoying' hate. He's such a pompous jerk at times, all hoighty-toighty with his 'leave the universe a better place than you found it' bullcrap, it makes me want to punch him in his smug face sometimes. Still, this isn't about him being an ass; he's giving me flak about something you convinced Wong to do."

"Ohhh, sensei! Me sooooo sorry!" Wong threw himself on the floor and proceeded bow to Two over and over, his head hitting the ground with a thump every time.

One watched, feeling both amused and disturbed. "He's definitely going to fit in around here."

Flashing a dirty look at One, Two pulled Wong off the floor. Wong had gone cross-eyed, and his hair stuck out wildly in all directions.

Wong wrapped his arms around Two in a loving embrace and said, "I didn't know you cared!"

Two tried to jerk his hand away, but Wong held it with an iron grip. Struggling to release himself, Two glanced at One. "A little help?"

One couldn't help it; he started laughing.

Two shot him a dirty look. "It's not funny, One! He's been doing this since I was put in charge of him! I know you're on vacation, but give me a hand here, I'm beggin' ya!"

One applauded, a big smile on his face. The glower on Two's face made it clear he was not amused. Before he could open his mouth to say anything however, Wong began hopping up and down around his mentor, spinning Two around faster and faster like a top before finally letting him go. Two spun wildly across One's floor, narrowly avoiding the maze of bookcases as he spun to the stairwell doorway. With astounding speed, Wong dashed across the floor and flung open the door just in time for Two to spin through it.

As Two vanished down the stairwell, Wong waved back at One. "Sayonara Ichi-san!"

Still chuckling, One called back, "Take it easy, Wong!"

"Hai!" With that, Wong chased after Two, the door closing automatically once the young Dreamer departed.

After a few moments, One muttered to himself, "Well, that was fun. What to do, what to do …?"

His gaze fell on a metal door in the far corner of his floor. Shrugging, he muttered, "Why not? It'll kill some time."

Bright fluorescent lights came to life the moment One stepped through the doorway into what he affectionately called his workshop. It was actually more of a large storage bay, at the back of which knelt a massive humanoid machine that was like an old friend to One: the Final Fantasy.

One discovered the Final Fantasy in the ruins of Bridges. He had been looking for information on his past, but instead discovered the half-finished machine hidden in a facility beneath the city. The technology was most peculiar; though he could see signs of Post-Devastation Earth tech, the facility itself was completely alien to him, especially the small contingent of small bug-like robots that maintained everything. Fascinated by what he found, he brought the entire facility to his floor, the Final Fantasy included.

The humanoid mech was unfinished and unnamed at the time, but enough tech remained to form a starting point for One's designs. In a matter of months, the newly-dubbed Final Fantasy was ready for action. One broke her in fighting a giant lizard monster on a small planet orbiting a white dwarf star. A large tooth propped up next to one of his workbenches stood as a reminder of that first intense fight.

One ran his hand across the smooth metal plating of the mech's foot, whispering, "How are you, old friend?"

A holographic projection of a small girl with cat ears flickered to life beside him. Crossing her arms, she said, "Oh, that's nice. You say hello to that thing before me."

One grinned. "Hi, Rebecca. You doin' okay?"

Rebecca was an artificial intelligence that had been in a hibernation cycle until One accidentally activated her while exploring the facility. Fortunately, she took a liking to him, though her mood was always a little hard to predict.

She sniffed. "For your information, I've been running a thorough scan of your tinker-toy over there ever since your last scrap. The right leg booster's power converter is damaged and the armor plating on the core has been badly corroded by that monster's acid; you'll have to replace it. Of course, my skrievers could have taken care of it if you'd just let them."

Three of the little bug-like robots unfolded themselves from their perch on a nearby workbench in a manner that could only be described as eager.

One smiled and said, "Thanks, but you know me; I like working on her myself. Go ahead and extend the damaged plating while I get Headache."

She crossed her arms and looked away, pouting.

Sighing, One added, "Pretty please?"

"Fine! Opening her maintenance hatches and extending plating." The armored plating of the Final Fantasy extended outward, revealing coiled wiring and complex machinery.

He wasn't sure why, but One always felt more relaxed while working on the Final Fantasy. Of course, he couldn't work on the Final Fantasy without his Headache. He glanced around until he found the twin units laying on top of a nearby workbench.

The original UBT (Universal Builder's Tool) was originally designed and built by the Builders of the Ranger's Collective. Builders would use the multipurpose devices to build and repair heavy machinery. During combat, an experienced team of Builders could turn the tides of battle, repairing dreadnaughts like the Final Fantasy and other heavy machines while under fire.

A standard UBT is equipped with electromagnetic generators (useful when working on tall ferrous machinery), fusion welding gear, a grappling hook, a standard riveting gun, a fully functional robotic hand, and a self-adjusting active strengthening system that effectively increases the user's lifting strength.

Of course, One customized the two UBTs he referred to as 'Headache'. The fusion welding system in each unit was capable of producing a fusion energy blade about three feet long for short durations. The riveting gun was modified to fire armor piercing shards as well as the thick three-inch rivets it was designed to shoot through thick sheets of metal, and the energy-based grapple was able to project an anti-gravity field, giving One the ability to lift even heavier items without injuring himself, although the effect was limited and consumed a massive amount of energy.

Shaking his head, One put on his tek-boots. They lacked the armored plating of Mikaen's set, but One's tek-boots allowed him to hover in the air for limited periods of time, a upgrade given by a grateful norm once helped by the Dreamer.

"Well," One said, looking over the Final Fantasy, "Guess I'll start with the armor plating."

He hefted a sheet of the synchrome alloy he used to reinforce the original selanium-steel plating. The sheet was as thick as his arm and almost four times his size, but Headache allowed him to lift it with ease.

Retracting the mechanical hand and activating the fusion blade of the right-hand Headache Unit, One cut the armor plating to match the damaged plating on the core. He paused a moment once done to admire the neon-blue sheen of the energy sword before deactivating it.

"Activate the platforms, would you, Rebecca?"

Still sulking, Rebecca waved a translucent hand in his direction. Several segments of the floor rose into the air around the Final Fantasy. Once the final platform was in place, One shot into the air, his tek-boots trailing a stream of blue energy. He circled around the Final Fantasy until he was hovering in front of the dreadnaught's chest. Setting down on the nearest hovering platform, he took a moment to examine the damaged plating.

The right breastplate was badly scarred, the work of a rather nasty monster he fought on a previous assignment. The gash wasn't as bad as the bubbles; the corrosive acid the creature had spit at him had formed several air pockets within the metal, weakening it throughout the entire plate.

Peering into the cockpit through the holes, he muttered, "Wow … closer than I thought."

Shrugging, he got to work pulling out the foot-long bolts that held the plating in place. He was just beginning to wrest the damaged panel from the core when a soft giggle gave him pause.

"Hello?" Hearing nothing but silence, he shrugged and started to pull off the heavy plating. The lights along the sides of Headache began to shine as he tried to heft several hundred pounds of metal from the framework surrounding the dreadnaught's core. He just managed to wrestle it free when he heard it again; a faint giggling sound coming from somewhere nearby. Given that he was a good twenty feet in the air, this was more than a little disconcerting.

"I know someone's there," One said irritably, "Either show yourself or get lost."

Once again, there was no response. It was probably one of the other Dreamer's children; Atraius, the Dreamer of the floor known as 'The Forest', had seven half-siren kids who were constantly poking their little noses where they didn't belong. Alex's youngest daughter had a habit of sneaking into his workshop as well; an eight-year old shape-shifter can be surprisingly cunning.

Just as he finally managed to pry the second panel from the core, he heard someone shout, "BOO!"

The voice was so loud and so close that he dropped the panel. The heavy metal plating hit the ground with a resounding clang.

Inside the core, lounging in the pilot's chair was someone with long red hair, mischievous green eyes, and a friendly.

They stared at each other in silence until she leaned forward and gave him a kiss on the tip of his nose. This had the effect of both breaking One's bewilderment and making him blush.

"Oh! Luck! I didn't-"

Luck threw her arms around One the moment he set down on the edge of the exposed cockpit. "I missed you, One!"

She abruptly let go of One and punched him playfully on the arm. "Why didn't you tell me you were back? I was worried about you!"

"Well, I … uh …" One felt his face grow warmer as he struggled to form a cohesive sentence.

She gave a light-hearted shrug. "Oh well. I'm sure you would have got around to it sooner or later. Besides, I heard Teach tried to push another job on you."

"You and everyone else." One replied, finally finding his voice. Rubbing the back of his head, he continued, "I'm beginning to wonder if I should have taken Elduran up on his offer and stayed in Homestead."

"Aww! Poor One!" Luck cooed as she rubbed One's cheek with a gentle hand. "You haven't had much of a vacation, have you?"

One felt his cheeks burn at her touch. "Y-yeah. Um … listen, I'm glad to see you, but I really should finish fixing the Final Fantasy."

"Oh! Carry me down to the floor, would you?" Before One could respond, Luck hopped off the chair and wrapped her arms around One's broad shoulders. Letting her head rest on One's chest, she said, "Okay, I'm ready."

His cheeks an even darker shade of red, One lifted Luck's light body with ease and leapt from the cockpit. He landed with a loud clang; thankfully, the boots slowed the descent enough to keep One and Luck from becoming a splatter on the floor.

Luck hopped out of One's arms and asked, "You'll stop by my floor later?"

He nodded, unable to think of a reply. Luck kissed One on the cheek before vanishing, a flurry of butterflies in her wake. He breathed a sigh of relief before moving to pick up the damaged armor plating.

One and Luck had been friends ever since she joined the Elsewhere Incorporate. They'd even worked together on a few assignments, a rarity among the often stubbornly independent Dreamers. As of late, she made no pretense of her desire for the two of them to be more than friends.

One was fond of her, there was no denying that; she was quite pretty, and she seemed to project an aura of happiness around her that made it impossible to be angry when she was nearby. She was also very tender-hearted, a trait One found very endearing. When it came down to it, One liked her every bit as much as she liked him. There was just something stopping him from reciprocating; a small voice of doubt in the back of his mind that just wouldn't go away.

"She's definitely marked you for her own, that's for sure."

One turned to see Teach sitting on a nearby workbench, picking at some of the machinery One collected for integration into the Final Fantasy.

"You know that can rip the iron out of your blood." One commented. "Not fatal to us, but it'll still hurt like hell."

Teach quickly withdrew his hand. Flashing a distasteful glance at the part, he said "You're still working on integrating some of the Headache sub-systems into the Final Fantasy? I thought you determined that a fusion blade of sufficient size would take too much energy to sustain."

One didn't respond as he set a new piece of metal plating on a workbench. He activated his fusion cutter, the loud whine of the blade drowning out Teach as he tried to continue talking. Eventually, the elder Dreamer gave up and waited until One finished cutting the armor plating.

"Look, I understand why you're angry." Teach said.

"Sure you do."

After inspecting the plate again, One nodded with satisfaction and picked it up. Teach hastily stepped back, only just avoiding being bashed by the side of the plate as One headed back to the Final Fantasy.

Hurrying forward, Teach said, "I honestly had no intention of giving you another assignment when you came back. When I said you deserved a break, I meant it."

One continued walking as though he hadn't heard anything.

Teach sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "Come on, One." he said, "Aren't you even the least bit curious about Mikaen?"

With a sigh, One set the armored plate against the Final Fantasy's leg. "Of course I'm curious, Teach. It isn't every day that someone falls out of the sky, even in our line of work, but after two decades of continuously getting into one big mess after another, curiosity just isn't enough of a draw."

"Look, this job's not as bad as the last few you tackled. It's practically a flick assignment; a few nudges in the right places and you'll be done."

"It's never that simple, Teach." One said, unable to hide the irritation in his voice. "You know how it is; you finish a job, and someone else pops up with a problem. It sounds small, and you figure it won't take long, so you help out. Next thing you know, what started as a small assignment has become another complicated quest. You finally finish that job when you're approached by someone with another problem, and suddenly you're back at square one again."

Teach put his hand on One's shoulder, saying with genuine sympathy, "I know, friend. Believe me, I know."

Shrugging Teach's hand away, One lifted the plate again and boosted up to the floating platform in front of the Final Fantasy's chest. With one hand holding the plate in place, One took careful aim and fired a series of thick metal rivets through the newly cut armor until it was secure. After firing a few more rivets, he lowered his hands and nodded in satisfaction.

Landing near Teach, One said, "Not that I've had much of a break since I got back. You've been pestering me about an assignment, Two's been wanting help training the new Dreamer, Max needs some assistance with one of his inventions, and to top it off …"

Teach nodded as One trailed off, correctly guessing, "Luck."

One laughed, feeling slightly embarrassed. "Yeah, Luck."

Teach smiled. "You two would make a good couple. Of course, if you were to marry, we'd be brother-in-laws."

"I'm sure Karma would just love that. Honestly, I'm not sure what the problem is; I just don't feel totally comfortable with the idea of Luck and I being together."

After a long moment of silence, Teach let out a sigh. "Mom would kill me for telling you, but your feelings for Luck probably have something to do with this."

He set a silver ring on a nearby bench. It looked like a simple ring; no jewels or gold adorned it. From the moment One set eyes on it, however, he felt the strangest sense of anticipation and a desire to hold the ring and reclaim the memories that lay within the silver bit of metal.

Unable to take his gaze away, One said, "Last time I checked, Mom kept these under lock and key."

"Yes, and typically, I would agree with her feelings on the matter. Stored memories are typically unpleasant and emotionally scarring, which is why they were stored in the first place. Still, memories are what make us who we are. Even if we store them away, some trace of them remains. I think this is why you find yourself conflicted."

The ring looked like such a simple thing. It must have had some significance to the memories that were stored inside, but One had no idea what that might be. Had the ring been a gift? Had he picked it up in some shop on impulse? Had he found it in some cave or facility and taken it as a souvenir? He knew that he must have had a good reason to deliberately suppress his own memory, but anyone who's ever had a nagging question burning in the back of their mind can appreciate the temptation of what he faced.

Picking up the ring, Teach said casually, "I could ask Mom to reintegrate the memory for you. All I ask in exchange is-"

"I'm in."

Teach fell silent for a moment, no doubt surprised by One's sudden response. "Wow. Even with the ring, I didn't expect … are you sure you don't mind?"

One let out an exasperated sigh. "I need a break, but I'm obviously not going to get one here. At least if I'm on assignment, I've only got one thing to do. Here, I have to deal with the whole Elsewhere vying for my attention."

A smile slowly spread across Teach's face. "Well, despite the circumstances, I'm glad you've changed your mind. Your skills as a Dreamer and experience as a Builder make you the only Dreamer capable-"

"Yeah, whatever. Look, I expect something in return for this, and not just the ring, either." One disengaged Headache and set the twin units on a workbench. "After this job, I want a vacation away from everything; the Dreamers, the Elsewhere, the mainstream. I'm talking months, years … hell, decades maybe. No more favors, no more assignments until I'm ready."

"Then it's a deal." Teach handed him a small piece of paper and the ring. "Keep this on your person, and the memories will start integrating in a matter of days. Here's all the information you'll need on the assignment, including a quick list of basic actions. As usual, feel free to improvise as long as the basic conditions are met. There's a short time delay involved. Seven months, though you've already slept through a chunk of that."

"Why so long?" One asked.

"Mikaen will be going through extensive psychological counseling in Homestead … good job in sending him to Elduran by the way. In seven months, he'll have put enough of his inner ghosts to rest to make your assignment considerably easier. I've already taken care of the time adjustment, so you can head out whenever you're ready."

"Might as go now. I'd like to have a little talk with our little knight friend before we get started." One gave the list a quick glance before he folded up the paper and stuck it in his pocket. "Any special gear?"

Teach handed him a small device attached to a leather wristband. "Just this: a holographic projector for stealth purposes. He calls it a 'Wile'."

One examined the unit, chuckling at the name. "A wile, huh? Cute. I don't see any kind of battery here. What's this thing use for power?"

"Ah, that's one of Max's new ideas. It draws power from local lifestream sources. Vintan technology is lifestream-based, so try not to use it in tech-heavy areas as the energy loss will be traceable."

"Don't use it around heavy machinery. Anything else?"

Teach said, "Just one thing that I want to make sure is perfectly clear. Your assignment is not to help Mikaen return to Earth."

One raised an eyebrow curiously. "You're kidding."

Teach nodded solemnly. "I understand your confusion. Yes, this is not a wayward child job."

"Fair enough." One said, shaking his head. "Well, if I'm not bringing him home, what am I doing?"

"It's quite simple. Your assignment is to see that he doesn't go back at all."

"Oh. Right then."

9: Chapter 8 - Seven Months

Mikaen watched in silence as the twin suns slowly descended toward the distant horizon. The smooth bark of the tree that was now his home felt comforting against his back.

"Home …" he whispered, his eyes on the glow of the distant horizon.

It had been seven months since Mikaen's arrival on Vinta, and yet he couldn't help but wonder: had so little time truly passed? It felt to Mikaen as though he'd lived in Homestead for years. It felt good to have a home; not a shared barracks room or some dingy cot in a rundown safe house, but a place he could truly call his own.

His gaze fell to the surface of the lake, the water looking like molten gold beneath the light of the fading suns. Mikaen made a point to choose a tree near Rinoa Lake; aside from the convenience of having a natural swimming pool close to his house, the sound of flowing water helped Mikaen sleep at night, especially during his first troubled weeks.

He hadn't found a way home yet or even figured out how he arrived on Vinta in the first place, but Mikaen wasn't terribly disappointed. Between the Revs, the monsters, and the Rips spewing lifestream, Earth was, as One so eloquently put it, a crap hole.

Mikaen smiled at the memory of the mysterious fellow who had helped him all those months ago. While Elduran had been looking for a way to send the wayward knight home, Mikaen took the time to do a little research on his enigmatic benefactor. Mikaen had been surprised to find many children's stories and fables in Elduran's collection, included because Elduran believed that Dreamers played significant roles in each: the wise old man with advice, the peasant in disguise, the salesman who seemed to have just the right thing at just the right time. Dreamers were rarely heroes themselves, seemingly preferring to act as the whispered voice in a hero or heroine's ear.

Unfortunately, the children's stories never went into much detail and most of the source material proved useless. Some reports claimed that Dreamers were all powerful, while others claimed that Dreamers relied on lifestream energy much as any mage. Still others claimed that Dreamers were not real at all, but manifestations of magical energy created when a person suffers a great trauma or emotional stress.

Even the most detailed sources often contradicted equally detailed reports, creating a web of misinformation and rumor that made spotting any actual truths nearly impossible. Mikaen wondered if that was by coincidence or design.

In the end, the only information Mikaen garnered from his studies was that there might be supernatural beings known as Dreamers, and that one of them might appear somewhat similar to the young man Mikaen nearly flattened.

According to the stories, One was known for his compassion, his kindness, his green and gray-striped shirt (this never failed to make Mikaen laugh), and for keeping his word without exception. When Mikaen encountered One, the Dreamer had not seemed particularly kind or compassionate about Mikaen's situation. In the end, however, One helped him a great deal. Whatever One was, Mikaen knew he owed him a debt of thanks.

"Beautiful, ain't it?"

It took Mikaen a few moments to figure out One was sitting beside him, his hands cushioning his head as he stared out at the horizon.

"Something about having two suns makes sunsets that much more impressive." One flashed Mikaen a grin. "How ya been, Mikaen?"

Mikaen continued to stare at the Dreamer in disbelief, momentarily unable to speak.

Chuckling, One stood up and brushed the bits of grass off his clothes. "I'm guessing you didn't expect to see me again."

The Dreamer walked to the edge of the lake, a smile on his face as he stared down at the tranquil waters. "Ah, Rinoa Lake. Y'know, this is where I arrived the first time I came to Homestead."

Mikaen considered this. "Nice place to arrive, I suppose."

"Not really. I appeared in the middle of the lake."

"Problems with teleporting?" said Mikaen, unable to keep a smirk off his face at the thought of One flailing around in the water.

One shrugged. "I never said I was perfect. Speaking of problems teleporting, have you found a way home yet?"

"If I had, do you think I'd still be here?"

"You tell me."

The question caught Mikaen off-guard. He glanced at One only to find the Dreamer looking curiously back at him. With a sigh, Mikaen turned his gaze back to the lake.

"Let me guess;" said One, walking back to the tree and sitting down beside Mikaen, "you want to stay, but you've got a duty to your knight buddies back on Earth, right?"

Flushing, Mikaen replied, "Then you understand that no matter how much I like it here, I still have to return."

"You value your word. I respect that." He paused a moment before adding, "You ever consider that maybe your coming here wasn't an accident?"

"Is there something I should be aware of?" Mikaen asked, raising an eyebrow.

One shrugged. "I'm just saying maybe you've got a purpose here. It's something to consider."

Mikaen and One watched as the suns sank beneath the distant horizon.

Once the suns were out of sight, One rose to his feet with a slight groan. "Well, it's been nice talking with you, but I've gotta get to work."

As the Dreamer started walking away, Mikaen called after him, "That's it? You come back after seven months, ask me whether or not I really want to go back to Earth, and then just disappear again?"

"Yeah, pretty much." One's face broke into a goofy smile. "Toodles!"

Mikaen raised his hand to stop the Dreamer, but it was too late. One was gone.

"Dreamers." he muttered, shaking his head.

When One went to go see Elduran, he fully intended to appear inside the Thistlethorn parlor where Kathryn was currently was watching a news program on a Visual Transmission Sphere. A VTS is typically a sphere, usually silver or clear, that is enchanted to receive data streams from the Vintan media networks and display them as holographic projections. Aside from being an impressive piece of magi-technology, the sphere itself is extremely durable and completely hollow, a fact that One found out upon his arrival.

He wasn't the only person to receive a surprise; Kathryn let out a small shriek when she deactivated the orb and found One inside, his confused face pressed against the inside of the transparent orb.

When she realized who was in her VTS, she fixed One with a stern glare. "One! I should have known! Why can't you use the door like everyone else?"

One vanished, reappearing moments later in front of Kathryn. Glancing back at the orb, he said, "Sorry about that Kathy. I hope I didn't break anything."

Kathy waved it off. "Forget the VTS. Come here and give me a hug."

Grinning, One embraced the diminutive woman. "You doin' okay? It's been a while."

"It's been more than a while!" Kathryn stepped back, her face suddenly stern again. "Why didn't you come see me when you stopped by seven months ago?"

"Well, you already had a guest, and I didn't want to intrude."

Kathryn's ears twitched. "Mikaen? I heard you had something to do with him being here, but I didn't realize he was an actual assignment. Last time I saw you working, you were saving me and those other girls from that nasty Ackibar fellow."

One remembered the assignment all too well, and not just because he had gone for a little swim upon his arrival; an idestan summoner by the name of Nelibast Ackibar tried to summon a particularly nasty demon by offering up a group of 'pure' girls. One of the girls turned out to be somewhat less than pure, sending the demon on a murderous rampage. Unable to defeat One, the demon dragged Ackibar back to the hell from which it came.

"This job won't be anywhere near that bad." One said, trying hard to sound as though he truly believed it, "Is Elduran around?"

"He's in his study. Go on in; he'll be glad to see you, I'm sure. He still can't figure out what brought Mikaen here, though." She gave him a shrewd look. "Is that why your here?"

"Maybe." One started to step forward, but Kathryn's gentle hand on his shoulder made him pause.

"Won't you stay for dinner? We'd be more than happy to have you. Besides, I'd like to hear about what sort of trouble you've been up to."

Touched by her offer, One shrugged and said, "Sure. Why not?"

"Good." Kathryn withdrew her hand. "Speaking of dinner, I'd better go make sure nothing's burning."

One watched her as she walked to the kitchen door. Something about her seemed off slightly off. A smile crossed his face when he realized what it was he was sensing from her. Shaking his head, he headed for Elduran's study.

His friend was sitting behind his desk, poring over a dusty tome of ancient runes. The last time One had been in that room, it was Elduran's father who sat in that very spot. Just like his father, Elduran didn't bother looking up when the door opened.

"So how far along is she?" One asked, making his old friend jump.

"One! I'm surprised to see you!" Elduran's head cocked as what One's words made their way through his cognitive center. "Wait, what?"

"Kathryn, dude!" One said, claiming a chair for himself across from Elduran, "How long has she been pregnant?"

Elduran stared at him, his mouth hanging open slightly.

One snorted. "I'm guessing not too long."

Picking up a book from the piles strewn across Elduran's desk, One asked, "Still looking for a way to send Mikaen home, huh?"

Elduran seemed surprised by the question. "Yes, of course, Mikaen. Are you sure?"

"Well, I'm fairly sure. You said you'd help him find-"

Elduran cut him off with an impatient wave of his hand. "Forget Mikaen! I'm talking about Kathryn! She's with child?"

"Well, it's either that or she's possessed." One chuckled at his friend's dark expression, saying, "Kidding. I'm kidding! I'm a Dreamer, remember? I can tell when someone's dreaming, even if they're … eww. Damn, that thing looks disgusting."

"I beg your pardon?!"

One pointed at an illustration in one of the open books on Elduran's desk. "What is that?"

"Oh. Let me see." Elduran peered at what appeared at first glance to be a large bogey with three bulging eyes and stubby bat-like wings. "That's a mulwook. They can teleport short distances to escape predators."

Snorting, One set the book back on the desk. "I wouldn't call the space between Earth and Vinta a short distance, even on a galactic scale."

Elduran shut the book with a resigned sigh. "Well, it was a long shot anyway."

One sat down in the hair across from the desk and rested his elbows on two large tomes. "Research not going too well, eh?"

"To put it mildly." Elduran rubbed his forehead, looking very tired. "I'm almost out of reference material regarding teleportation."

"Have you tried asking Trystan?" One asked. "He is still the Seed, right?"

Nodding, Elduran gestured to the jumbled pile of books. "Every book he has on teleportation, including a number of rare and ancient texts. No luck."

One hopped out of the chair and walked over to the pile. Most of the books were about magical theory: lengthy, descriptive, and extremely boring to those not arcanically inclined. One couldn't help but shake his head; it took a special kind of mind to take something as wondrous as magic and present it in such a mind-numbingly dull fashion.

"You know," he said idly, "I just had a bit of a teleportation goof myself. Ended up in your orb-thingy downstairs."

"The VTS? Wish I could've seen that." A thoughtful expression flashed across Elduran's face. "I don't suppose-"

One shook his head. "I'm pretty sure Mikaen didn't teleport here the same way I do."

"Humor me; how do Dreamer's teleport?"

His face a mask of seriousness, One replied, "Pixie dust."

"Funny."

One chuckled. "It's a bit complicated but seeing as you're an old friend, I'll tell you."

Picking up a book with a picture of a woman with wings on the cover from Elduran's desk, One set it on the opposite side as the book he had been poking through earlier.

"Now assume that I'm hanging here with the mugwump-"

"Mulwook." Elduran corrected.

"Whatever. Now, if I want to go to this other place, I send a bit of my stream energy … you do know what lifestream energy is, right?"

Elduran gave One a sharp look. "I'm a spell-shaper, One. How in the name of the Creator could I not know about the lifestream?"

"Just making sure." With an apologetic smile, One continued, "Anyway, I send a bit of my stream energy to where I want to go, kinda like setting up a lifestream beacon. When I reduce my physical shell to pure stream energy, it zooms to the beacon. From there, I simply reform my body and get back to whatever I'm up to."

Elduran frowned at him. "Sounds complicated."

"I try not to think about it too much." One replied, leaning back in his chair with his arms behind his head. "It works better that way."

Chuckling, Elduran tossed another book onto the pile. "So how did you end up in my VTS?"

"Just a goof on my part. I can't exchange places with existing matter, so I thought if I used the orb as a focal point, I'd be fine."

"VTSs are hollow."

"Yeah, I figured that one out."

Elduran laughed. "Magic is by its very nature unpredictable, even to the strongest of minds. I've been trying to help Mikaen focus his magical talent for months, and he still doesn't have complete control over it."

Leaning forward, One asked, "Is he adjusting okay? Magic aside, I mean."

Elduran leaned back, putting his hands behind his head. "He's been a real boon to this community. He helped with the harvest, took care of a few local creatures that have been plaguing us ... he even saved the Dewdrop family two months ago when their tree caught fire."

"No kidding?"

Elduran shook his head. "He just dove into the flames, pulled them out, and dropped half of the lake on their house. I'm telling you, I've never seen a manipulative energist even half as strong as Mikaen."

"Energist? I thought he was an elementalist."

Elduran let out a snort. "Elementalism is video game magic. Energists manipulate the flow of lifestream into heat or energy. Everything else is a matter of degrees."

He gave One a knowing look. "You're here to help him, aren't you?"

"Hey! No poking around in my head!"

Elduran chuckled. "Oh, please. It's been sticking from your mind like an arrow since you walked in. You feel sorry for him."

"Shhhhh!" One glanced around as though expecting someone to be hiding nearby. "Not so loud. I told Teach it was because I didn't think I'd get a break at the Elsewhere."

Elduran shot a sly look at One. "Would it have anything to do with this 'Luck' you keep thinking about?"

"Hey!"

Further conversation was interrupted by a creak as the study door opened.

Kathryn poked her head through the open door. "Sorry to interrupt you two, but dinner's ready."

Elduran rose to his feet and headed toward the door. "Staying for dinner?"

"Yeah, Kathryn invited me. Does Mikaen eat with you?"

Elduran shook his head. "He's still a bit of a loner. After what I've seen delving into his mind for the past few months, I can't say I blame him. Is that a problem?"

"Nah. Just wanted to avoid a possibly uncomfortable situation. Eating dinner with an assignment glaring at me always gives me a tummy ache."

10: Chapter 9 - A Way Ahead

Mikaen lifted the glass lip of the ceramic stew pot and sniffed at the contents. He wasn't as good a cook as Kathryn, but the stew smelled good enough. After doling out a decent amount into a wooden bowl, he sat down at the table and said a quick prayer before starting on his dinner. He had only just lifted his spoon when someone knocked on his door.

"Come in!" He called out.

The door opened, revealing Jeronem. He was carrying his durien-tail staff over his shoulder, a wide grin on his face. The young vuestan changed little over the past seven months; if anything, he had become even more mischievous, thanks in part to his new staff.

The amber scales of the durien's tail had gradually fallen off, the flesh and bone within decomposing into a bluish crystal core within weeks of Mikaen's defeat of the previous owner. Clusters of crystals sprouted from where the durien's spikes once jutted, and the whole staff seemed to pulse with a gentle light.

"Hey, Mikaen! Mind some company?"

Mikaen gestured to the stool across from him. "Of course not. Have a seat and grab some stew."

Jeronem set his staff against the wall. "Thanks! Mom's cooking has been so strange lately."

As Jeronem started to sit down across the table, Mikaen commented, "One stopped by today."

The young vuestan was so surprised that he missed his chair and ended up on the floor. Recovering instantly, he was halfway across the table, his brilliant blue eyes shining excitedly. "Really? What did he do? What he say?"

"Nothing special; talked about the first time he came here, asked me how I was doing. Still, I get the feeling that he's here because of me."

Jeronem appeared thoughtful. "Frankly, I'm not sure whether you should be grateful or jump off a cliff to end it quickly."

Mikaen's right hand moved unbidden into his left pocket, where he kept the paper that led him to Jeronem and Homestead.

"I don't think he'd purposefully lead me astray," he said, choosing his words carefully, "I'm more worried about his motives."

"If he is the same One my father and Trystan used to tell me about, it's probably not worth worrying about. I wish I coulda seen him."Jeronem's pout was interrupted by a surprisingly loud growl from his stomach.

Mikaen pushed the ceramic pot toward Jeronem with his spoon. "Dig in."

Jeronem wasted no time in filling a bowl for himself. They ate in silence for a few minutes, pausing only to drink or to ladle out more stew.

Still slurping his soup, Jeronem glanced up. "What's One like?"

"Don't talk with your mouth full." Mikaen replied with a smirk.

"Oh come on! You've met him twice already. What's he like?"

Mikaen sighed and set down his spoon. He knew from experience that Jeronem wouldn't stop pestering him until he got a satisfactory response.

"He seems like a decent guy. After all I've read of the Dreamers, I thought he'd be dismissive, but he seems to be very understanding ... now quit talking."

Jeronem snickered. "Still can't communicate mentally while eating?"

"Not without wearing my dinner, no."

They continued the meal in silence. Jeronem was the first to finish, pushing his bowl forward as he sat back in his chair.

"Ahh! That was good. I was too busy packing to get a meal in today."

"Nervous about your exams?" Mikaen asked after finishing his own bowl.

Jeronem tried to shrug nonchalantly, but Mikaen could detect a quavering note in his friend's mental voice. "About my exams? Of course not! I've got this in the bag. Why would I be nervous?"

"Well, there's the hike to Muonsol for one thing. I know duriens and abscotts avoid the main road, but you never know. Then we'll have to find the Center of Knowledge, which neither of us has ever even seen. Then there's always the possibility that the exams are more difficult than you were expecting, and-"

"All right!" Jeronem threw his hands up. "I get it! I'm nervous already!"

"Well, don't be. I've seen firsthand your talent as a spell-shaper. You'll get your license, no problem." Pausing a moment to stifle a yawn, Mikaen asked, "What time we heading out tomorrow?"

"Noon. Don't worry; I'll come and wake you if you sleep in." Jeronem hopped out of his chair and retrieved his staff. "Speaking of which, I'm gonna go hit the sack so I can be fresh and ready to go tomorrow!"

Mikaen hid his smirk as he showed Jeronem to the door. Much like his father, Jeronem was anything but 'fresh and ready' in the morning, no matter how much he slept the previous night.

After they exchanged their good nights, Mikaen watched as Jeronem skipped down the path toward the Thistlethorn home. He had come to think of Jeronem as a little brother. Like any good little brother, Jeronem had a knack of getting into trouble; fortunately, big brother Mikaen was there to help him out.

Mikaen shook his head as he closed the door and turned to find an inconsiderate Dreamer sitting in his chair and sniffing at his stew.

Smiling wryly as he took a different seat, Mikaen said, "Help yourself."

"Oh, no thanks. I just came from dinner with the Thistlethorn family." One patted his stomach, adding, "Whew, Kathryn's a good cook."

Mikaen chuckled. "Believe me, I know."

There was a tense moment of silence before Mikaen finally asked, "So what brings you here?"

One replied, "You. I'm here to help you, after all."

The directness of that statement surprised Mikaen, but he was careful not to let it show. "What exactly are you helping me with?"

"Your problem. What else? Nice job on the house by the way. Not much in the way of furniture though."

"Don't change the subject, One. What exactly is my problem?"

"Oh, nothing horrible or complicated. You've just lost your way, that's all."

Raising an eyebrow questioningly, Mikaen asked, "Do you practice being vague?"

"I'm trying to help you find your way home." One told him, putting his hands behind his head and leaning back. "That's what you wanted seven months ago, right?"

"Yes, well …" Mikaen flushed, feeling suddenly very awkward at the prospect of telling the Dreamer his reservations. "Seven months is a long time."

"True, that." One hopped up out of his chair and turned to address Mikaen directly. "However, we both know that as long as you have that chip, you're gonna try your best to deliver it. I'd do it for you, but I know you don't trust me."

"I didn't-"

"-say anything, I know. It's okay; if I was in your shoes, I wouldn't trust me either. Weird guy, keeps popping in and out all the time. Look, the only reason I popped in tonight was to let you know I'll be around for a while. Need some advice or help, feel free to ask. Can't promise I'll actually help, but you can always ask."

"How reassuring."

If One noticed the sarcasm in Mikaen's voice, he didn't say anything about it. With a smile and a bow, he said, "Well, I guess I'll head out for now. Later!"

With that, the Dreamer disappeared. Shaking his head, Mikaen started to clean off his table when One appeared again.

"Oh, and say hello to Elduran for me when you go to see him tonight, okay?"

"How did you know I was ..." Mikaen let his voice trail off, as One was already gone.

Snorting, Mikaen resumed cleaning up. Once the last dish was washed and placed back in the proper cabinet, he grabbed the quilted cloak Kathryn made for him and headed for the door.

As he walked through the streets of Homestead, Mikaen realized just how much he liked living there. He was a respected and valued member of a community, he had many friends, and he had a home of his own. More importantly, Mikaen had peace, a peace he never possessed back on Earth, even with Maria.

A group of young women passing by Mikaen began to whisper among themselves, a few flashing glances at Mikaen's muscular form and handsome face. He flashed a smile at them, sending the group into a fit of giggling as they hurried past.

His eyes followed the group as they continued walking. An image of himself living in his home with a vuestan wife and children passed through his mind. He could be happy; he could have a family.

Mikaen forced the thoughts from his head, angry at himself. He never shirked his duties before, and he wasn't about to start now. If he gave up and chose the easier, more pleasant route, it would be like ignoring every unjust death brought by the hands of the Revs. He needed to see this through, not because he was one of the four founders of the Knights of the Star but because he owed it to everyone who hadn't made it to see the Revs fall.

Lost in thought, Mikaen did not notice the robed figure in his path until he literally bumped into the fellow.

Once the shock had worn off, Mikaen glanced at the symbol on the man's blue robes, a triangle with three differently colored points and a circle of black in the center. Mikaen hadn't spent much time on studying Vinta's religions, but he recognized the symbol as belonging to the Celestial Church.

"My apologies, brother." Mikaen said, bowing his head slightly. "I was lost in thought."

Startled, the monk asked, "What are you doing here?"

"I live here." Mikaen replied, slightly taken aback, "What are YOU doing here?"

The monk opened and closed his mouth in silence for several moments before bowing his head. "F-forgive me if I offended you."

Another monk stepped forward, this one wearing blue robes with green trim. "We are merely surprised to see a brother Galden among the vuestan. Please do not take offence."

"It's no problem." Mikaen said politely.

The monk bowed his head to Mikaen, saying, "Our apologies, but we must be on our way. May you always walk in the Creator's light."

He turned and began to walk away, the first monk following quickly.

Mikaen watched the two as they moved off. The sight of monks in Homestead wasn't particularly unusual; a few showed up every few months to spread the word, as it were. From what Mikaen could glean from their preaching, the Celestial Church was all about balance between the forces of Light (representing Creation), Void (Representing Destruction), Chaos (Representing Life), with Balance serving to ensure no one side became dominant. Most surprising to Mikaen was that each of these forces was allowed representation within the church, meaning that there was ultimately no set 'good' or 'evil' sect. Even stranger, they didn't deny the other religions of Vinta.

Mikaen found them surprisingly tolerant for a religious order. Still, something about the two monks bothered him in a way he couldn't put to words. Shaking his head, Mikaen pushed the incident out of his mind and continued toward the Thistlethorn home.

Kathryn met Mikaen at the door, the same pleasant but strangely secretive smile on her face that she'd been wearing for the past few weeks.

"Evening, Missus Thistlethorn," Mikaen said politely, slipping off his sandals and hanging them on the rack by the door.

"Good evening Mikaen. Do you need to speak with Jeronem?"

"Actually, I want to speak with Elduran, if he's not busy."

Kathryn nodded and pointed to the study door. "He's still poring over his books, but I'm sure he won't mind."

"Still trying to find a way for me to get home." said Mikaen, feeling a bit guilty that Elduran put so much on hold just to help him.

Kathryn smiled kindly. "I'm sure you'll find your way. Want me to walk you to the study?"

"No thanks." Mikaen replied. "I know the way."

Kathryn nodded and headed toward the stairs, humming happily to herself. Mikaen paused a moment to wonder about this before shaking his head and opening the door to the study.

"Good evening, Mikaen." Elduran said, not looking up from his tome.

Mikaen nodded politely at the pleasantry. "Good evening. Any luck?"

With a weary sigh, Elduran closed the book and rubbed his forehead. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I'm sorry, Mikaen; I've checked every book in this library as well as a mountain of literature from the Center, but I've got nothing. I'm sorry, but I can't find anything that could've brought you all the way here or send you back home."

Despite his attachment to Homestead, Mikaen felt a pang of disappointment. If nothing else, he missed Syrin. She wasn't just his leader; she was like a mother, an older sister, and a close friend.

Keeping a smile on his face, Mikaen said, "It's okay. You tried your best."

"But it wasn't enough." Elduran sighed heavily. "After all you've done for Homestead, I was hoping I could give you a better answer than 'I don't know'."

"You've done more for me than I will ever be able to repay." Mikaen told him truthfully.

"I'm just sorry it wasn't enough to get you home." Elduran stopped, snapping his fingers. "Which reminds me: take a look at this, would you?"

He rustled around on his cluttered desk a moment before pulling out a partially crumpled letter, which he handed to Mikaen. "I received this today."

Mikaen pulled out the letter and shook it open. He was surprised to to find it written not in the spellscript typically used by vuestans, but in Vintan Common. It read:

Dear Elduran,

How have you been, old friend? How are Kathryn and Jeronem doing? I hear that your boy is about to register at the Center. He's even younger than you were when you registered, as I recall. I'd say I hope he'll stay out of trouble, but we'd hardly be the ones to talk about that, eh?

I wish I could say this letter is just to catch up on old times, but work must intrude; the Council date has been set two weeks from now. I can't promise this year will be any more exciting than the last, but you know how it goes with these official functions.

As for the other matter you spoke of in your last letter, I agree that it merits some attention. We will discuss it in greater detail upon your arrival.

Your friend,

Cygros Cressia

Mikaen was, of course, curious about the 'other matter' that Cygros mentioned, but it sounded private and Mikaen didn't want to pry into Elduran's business. Still, the name ''Cressia' made One think of his friend and next-in-command of the Knights of the Star, Jyle Crestorm. Mikaen wondered how his old buddy was doing in Mikaen's absence.

Shaking his head, Mikaen asked, "What is this 'Council'?"

"It's a meeting of the Allied Nations of Vinta: Jai Vye, the Cleftan Region, Homestead, Ronisgald, Longshore, Wenapaj, and Rimstak. We meet every so many years and discuss the state of the world: economic forecasts, possible problems, and that general sort of thing."

"Oh, I get it. Sort of like the Knight's Forum on Earth." The Knight's Forum was a yearly meeting of the heads of the various chapters around the globe to coordinate against the Revs.

"Yes. However, in this case the representatives are of different races from all over Vinta. The Council will be held seventeen days from now, and two members of the vuestan are expected to attend. Under normal circumstances, I would leave immediately. This time something has come up that will prevent my attendance." A smile spread across Elduran's face. "Kathryn is with child."

Pleasantly surprised, Mikaen shook Elduran's hand. "Congratulations! That's great news!"

His face suddenly fell when he realized Elduran's dilemma. The mental presence of both parents is considered crucial to the growth of a new child. Most surprising is that the noktal trees in which the vuestan live know that as well; once both parents are aware of a pregnancy, the tree will not allow either to leave. Mikaen knew this first-hand, as he'd been responsible for delivering groceries to several expectant parents during his time in Homestead (while the special fruits the noktal produce during a pregnancy are extremely healthy and tasty, most prospective parents are ready for something different by the third month).

"Well, I'm sure the Council will understand, considering the circumstances." Mikaen said, "I mean, from what Cygress wrote, it's just ceremonial anyway."

Elduran shook his head. "You don't understand. Two members are expected to attend, no exceptions. If Kathryn and I can't go, I must choose two to go in our stead."

"Who are the lucky two?" Mikaen asked, considering friends he would recommend.

"I've decided to send Jeronem since he's heading that way anyway for his exams at the Center, but I'm having difficulty with my second choice. I have someone in mind, but I don't know if he will agree to go."

"Who do you have in mind?" Mikaen asked, wondering why any vuestan would reject such an honor, even if it was just ceremonial.

Elduran looked him straight in the eyes. "You."

Surprised, Mikaen started to object only for Elduran to immediately cut him off. "You've made your own home and lived here for over a season. According to our laws, you are legally a vuestan."

Mikaen was startled at the abruptness of this decision but he managed to say, "I've no objections, but why me? I'm sure there are natural-born vuestan more qualified to represent Homestead than I."

"I find it difficult to believe that you won't act in the best interests of Homestead. You've done so much for our people during these past seven months." He smiled warmly at Mikaen. "I know you will represent our interests well."

Honored by Elduran's praise, Mikaen said solemnly, "Well, if you're sure, then I accept."

"I'm sure. You'll do fine, I know it." Elduran paused for a moment before snapping his fingers. "Oh, while you're heading that way, could you take these books back to the Center for me?"

Mikaen glanced at the sizable pile with skepticism. "You do know that we're going on foot, right?"

Realizing the obvious problem, Elduran chuckled. "Right. I'll lend you my bottomless pack. The enchantment's fresh, so there shouldn't be any problems."

"If there is, I should be able to fix it." Mikaen didn't have the same knack for spell-shaping as Jeronem or Elduran, but he wasn't by any means unskilled.

He started to reach for a stack of the books, but Elduran stopped him. "I'll pack them, Mikaen. It's the least I could do."

Shrugging, Mikaen occupied himself by taking a look at the books that currently littered Elduran's desk. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see the piles of books taking to the air like birds and flying into the open pack.

Mikaen's eyes caught on the cover of a book lying on the very edge of the desk. The cover of the book displayed a woman with feathered wings hovering in the air, a rather vacant smile on her otherwise beautiful face. Curious, he picked the book up and skimmed through the pages.

The book was filled with illustrations of winged humanoids, some appearing angelic, others demonic, others simply strange. There was text as well, but it was a bit on the technical side for Mikaen.

Elduran pocketed the crystal containing the spell he used to squeeze the rest of the books into his pack. "Well, that should do it."

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. Thanks."

Elduran glanced over at Mikaen. "Find something interesting?"

Mikaen flipped back to the cover and read the title aloud. "'Twelve Tribes: a study of Sentientera Ancientes' by Trystan Gelanis."

Elduran looked curious. "Huh. Must've been one of the books that came in this morning. May I?"

Mikaen handed the book to Elduran reluctantly. "Are the Sentientera native to Vinta?"

"Indeed. We just call them sentients for short. They're isolationists, aside from two or three tribes. Most of them live on a series of floating continents we call Rising Star."

"Oh." Floating continents? Mikaen had read something about that in one of the Dreamer-related fairy tales, but he'd assumed it was just fiction.

After browsing through the dusty pages for a few moments, Elduran's eyes went wide. "I can't believe I didn't think of it before! By the Creator, it's so obvious! It wasn't teleportation at all! It was a portal!"

"What?" Mikaen asked, coming to stand behind him.

Elduran was so excited he could barely contain himself. "Teleportation is essentially tricking reality into thinking that you're somewhere other than where you already are. It's a basic magic, so basic that some animals can even manage it. The Harmonius Effect, the Ol' Switcheroo: there are dozens of things that can lead to teleportation, accidental or otherwise, but portals are different. Portals are harder! A portal links two locations together to allow near-instantaneous movement from one point to the next, but it's difficult to stabilize! It doesn't just happen; it needs complete directed will and an incredible amount of stream energy."

Mikaen didn't bother trying to keep up; Elduran was difficult to follow when he got excited. "That's interesting, but-"

Elduran turned the book around, stopping Mikaen short.

A lovely female sentient with the wings of a monarch butterfly hovered before a swirling circle of light, the edges of reality bending around the rim. Looking at it, Mikaen had a vivid memory of being surrounded by colored lights and swirling strands of the blue-green energy he now knew as lifestream.

Staring intently at the image, he whispered, "I've seen this before."

Elduran looked as though he wanted to be smug, but was trying his best not to show it. "Still, we have to be sure before we jump to conclusions. I don't want to give you false hope, not again."

Now thoroughly confused, Mikaen asked, "What are you thinking?"

"I'm not sure myself, but I bet Trystan Gelanis would. He's the Seed at the Center of Knowledge. Knows more about sentients than anyone on Vinta without wings. If I'm wrong, he's still the best person on the planet to help you find a way home." Elduran handed the book to Mikaen, saying, "Here, why not have a look at it yourself during the trip? I assure you, it's definitely an interesting read, once you get past the technical bits. I'll send Trystan a message saying that you'll be entering the Center with Jeronem."

"Sure. Sounds interesting." Mikaen took the book gladly. It was hard not to be curious after Elduran had become so worked up over it.

Yawning, Elduran rose from his chair. "Well, I'm turning in. You'd better get some sleep too; you've got a long trip ahead of you."

Mikaen bowed his head respectfully. "Goodnight Elduran."

"Ahem." Elduran pointed at the pack in which he stored the books from the Center.

Smiling, Mikaen hoisted the hefty pack on one shoulder. He was almost out the door when he thought of the two monks he encountered.

"Elduran," He said, turning back to the elder vuestan, "I ran into two monks from the Celestial Church earlier."

Elduran snorted. "Oh, them. They wanted me to form a tree for a monastery here. I wouldn't have minded, but they were rather pushy about it. I told them I'd consider it, then told them to leave before I showed them out the window."

Suppressing an urge to smile, Mikaen said, "Sorry I brought it up. Good night Elduran."

11: Chapter 10 - Missionaries

The road to Muonsol is a long one to travel by foot. Vinta is a large world after all, and Ircandesta is easily one of the largest of its continents. Mikaen and Jeronem already trekked for a week across the trail to Muonsol, and according to Jeronem, they still had a ways to go. Still, most people going to Muonsol didn't walk there, a fact they were reminded of regularly as airships and floaters soared through the sky high above them. Elduran offered to summon something they could ride, but they unanimously refused; somehow, starting their adventure on foot seemed more appropriate.

They met with little trouble from animals or otherwise. The main roads of Ircandesta were well maintained and protected by numerous enchantments, courtesy of the Center of Knowledge. What few aggressive creatures were there wouldn't bother people without being bothered first (such as Jeronem's durien, as Mikaen was quick to remind the vuestan every time he was inclined to go exploring off the path).

Not that there was only the path and the forest, mind you; like in any post-industrial society (magic, tech, or otherwise), the roads passed through a number of cities and towns. They stopped by a few of these on the way, usually to check into an inn or hotel for the night, or to have a meal that neither of them had to cook. During one of these visits, Mikaen met his first idestan.

The idestan range from lightly tanned to jet black in skin tone, typically are taller than the average Galden, and are usually fair-haired. Their most distinguishing trait, their pointed ears, also led Mikaen to another discovery; despite the similarity in their appearance, the term 'elf' is considered a highly offensive racial slur by the idestan people. Fortunately, Jeronem stepped in and mollified the idestan before the situation could escalate.

Despite the occasional hiccup, Mikaen and Jeronem were both in high spirits. Mikaen felt positive that getting home was in his grasp, provided Elduran was correct. If Trystan could teach Mikaen how to return home, perhaps coming back wouldn't be so difficult. Once the Revs were eliminated (it was astounding how simple a goal it seemed when he thought about it), Mikaen would return and continue the life he had made for himself back in Homestead.

Of course, the idea of roaming across Vinta had merit as well; he had read of many fascinating places that he'd just love to visit: the underwater country of Jai Vye, the ever-changing Cleftan Region, the technological superpower of Rimstak, and the wide, sweeping plains of Longshore. Still, he knew that no matter where he went that Homestead would always be waiting for him at his journey's end.

Jeronem seemed to be thrilled to be away from Homestead and his parents. He was even more excited about his upcoming exams at the Center of Knowledge, and talked of little else during the trip. He spent hours storing spells in his staff, only to spend about five minutes emptying the same spells for practice. One of Jeronem's favorite spells was a burst of prismatic light that transfixed the target (which, for lack of other options, meant Mikaen) and obscured the target's vision with a rainbow of color. Mikaen had never taken mind-altering drugs before, but he imagined the effect must be similar.

One morning, nearly two weeks after they had left Homestead, Mikaen and Jeronem had been walking for about an hour when they heard the sound of snoring. Much to their surprise, the snoring turned out to be coming from One, who they found sound asleep under a tree beside the road.

Jeronem stopped a moment after Mikaen, a curious look on his face. "Who is that?"

"It looks like One." Mikaen said in a hushed tone.

"One?" Jeronem's eyes went wide. "Wait, you mean Dreamer One? That's him?"

Seeing Mikaen's nod, a grin spread across Jeronem's face. Without another word, he started tiptoeing over to the Dreamer.

"What are you doing?" hissed Mikaen. "Jeronem, don't-"

Jeronem waved impatiently at Mikaen without looking at him, but that wasn't why Mikaen fell silent; another One appeared just behind Jeronem with an air-horn in hand. Winking at Mikaen, One tiptoed in sync with Jeronem until they were only a few feet away from the sleeping One. One quickly darted out of Jeronem's field of vision as the young vuestan glanced back at Mikaen with an impish smile on his face.

Jeronem drew in a large breath, but just as he started to let out a shout in the recumbent Dreamer's ear, One held the air horn up and let out a rocketing blast that made Jeronem leap at least two feet in the air. He spun about, hands over his undoubtedly throbbing ears as he glared at the now-laughing Dreamer.

"I'm sorry." One managed between laughs, "That was just too perfect."

Jeronem glared at the Dreamer, hands still over his ears. "It's not funny! By the Creator, my ears are still ringing!"

"Easily fixed." One snapped his fingers. "Better?"

Jeronem lowered his hands, a look of disbelief on his face. "Yeah, actually."

"Glad to hear it." One said, clapping Jeronem on the back and earning another glare. "So, how are you two finding the road?"

"Long." Mikaen replied. "and why are you here?"

"Here to give you some advice, actually. Oh, relax; it's nothing like that."

Mikaen looked down to see his hand clasped tightly around Justice's hilt. Flushing, he released his grip. "Old instincts."

"Nothing wrong with that." One told him. "Better prepared than dead. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know to take the right path the next time the road splits."

"That's not right." Jeronem looked suspiciously at the Dreamer. "Dad's directions say go left."

"Both paths will get you there. I'm just sayin' that the right path might be a bit more interesting."

"Uh-huh." Mikaen said, putting his hands on his hips and fixing One with a skeptical look. "And what character-building obstacle have you set up for me there? Monsters? Angry hell-spawned fiends? A cranky dragon perhaps?"

"What?! You really think that I would stoop so low?" One asked, a mock look of hurt on his face. "I'm shocked to the core, the very core sir, that you think I'd do such a bad, nay horrible thing. Well, if that's what you think of me, I'll take my leave. Good day, sir!"

Turning on his heels, he marched past Mikaen and Jeronem toward a door that Mikaen was fairly certain hadn't been there moments ago. Mikaen was slightly surprised to see the door open to a room much larger than the tree should have been able to contain. It was fairly bland; white walls, grey carpet, and table in the corner with a beige vase resting on its top. A man in traditional butler garb stood in the center of the room bearing a tray with a single glass of some partially translucent dark brown liquid.

"Tea, sir?" Mikaen heard the butler ask as the door closed shut of its own volition. Moments later, the door vanished without a trace.

"That was ... odd." Shaking his head, Mikaen motioned to Jeronem, saying, "C'mon; let's get moving."

Another few hours passed without incident as they continued down the road, speculating on what they had just seen. They weren't so much bothered by One; Mikaen's studies had prepared him for a certain measure of eccentricity in the denizens of the Elsewhere. The mysterious door and the room beyond was a point of some interest however, as the nature of the Elsewhere and the gray rooms within was not known to any but the most select norms.

After a few minutes they did indeed encounter a fork in the road. Baths looked identical, and there was no sign to indicate where either path may have led.

Jeronem glanced at Mikaen. "What do you think?"

Mikaen fished out the One's makeshift compass and let it fall to the ground. It spun around a dozen times or so before pointing to the left path.

As he knelt to pick up the paper, the paper suddenly pointed back toward the right path. A moment later, the compass pointed back toward the path behind them.

One was toying with him, that much was obvious, but to what purpose?

A surge of annoyance tinged with defiance came over the wayward knight. Snorting, he started down the left path. After a few moments, he glanced back to find Jeronem still staring at the fork in the road, looking pensive.

"Are you sure? I mean, he said-"

"I never was one for taking the easy path." Mikaen motioned for Jeronem to follow.

Still looking nervous, Jeronem hurried after Mikaen. The path was a bit more winding, but otherwise no different than the road they had traveled thus far. As the hours passed, the floaters and airships flying overhead became few and far between. Mikaen and Jeronem were both glad, as it was much easier to enjoy the beauty of the forest without the constant whine of engines piercing the air.

They had only been walking for a few hours when a feeling of apprehension washed over Mikaen. He stopped abruptly, his hand moving instantly to Justice's hilt.

Jeronem continued a few more steps before he noticed Mikaen had stopped. "Hmm? What's wrong?"

Mikaen didn't reply. His attention was focused on a rather nondescript brush a little ways from the path. He had learned long ago to trust his instincts, and at that moment his instincts were screaming that someone was there.

Jeronem walked over to Mikaen and put his hand on his shoulder. "You feeling all right?"

A tell-tale click shot through the air, followed by the whine of an energy weapon charging power.

Mikaen spun around and tackled Jeronem to the ground. Before Jeronem could protest, a blast of blue energy shot from the bushes and enveloped the area where he had been standing. Leaves kicked up in his hasty retreat hung suspended in the air as though held by invisible strings.

Jumping to his feet, Mikaen pointed at the bush and shouted, "Burn!"

A stream of fire erupted from the tip of his finger, consuming the undergrowth in moments before dying out.

Two monks wearing the robes of the Celestial Church leapt from the charred remains of the undergrowth and fled in opposite directions.

Hoisting Jeronem to his feet, Mikaen said, "Jeronem, you g-"

"-get the one on the left, right." Before Mikaen could protest (he intended to tell Jeronem to go hide), Jeronem swept his staff around, creating a disc of light beneath his feet that swiftly sped off with the young vuestan riding it like a skateboard.

Shaking his head, Mikaen rushed after the other monk. Adrenaline surged through him as he sped through the forest floor. While he never had been one to go looking for trouble (at least prior to Maria's death), he nevertheless felt excited to be back in action again after his seven month hiatus.

Mikaen's monk was fast, but not quite fast enough. With a flying leap, Mikaen tackled the robed man to the ground, knocking the gun-like object out of his hand. The monk made a grab for it, but Mikaen kicked it beyond his reach.

The monk stuttered, his eyes full of terror as Mikaen pressed the edge of his sword to his throat.

"Why did you attack us?" Mikaen demanded. "Who are you working for?"

With a final fear-filled glance, the monk promptly vanished.

After the initial shock faded, Mikaen spun around, his keen eyes scanning for any sign of the monk, visual or otherwise. There was nothing, not even the snapped twig or a remnant swirl of stream energy.

He was still looking around when he felt something poke him in the back. He spun around, his sword slicing through the air, but no one was there. Feeling another odd poke, he spun about again but once again saw no one.

"What the-" he said.

A burst of pain across his back, much harder than a mere poke, made him fall to his knees. The pain spread slowly across his back, growing more intense by the second. It was as though something was moving beneath his skin, every motion more agonizing than the last. His mind awash with confusion, Mikaen tried desperately to claw at whatever had just struck him to no avail.

The pain drove him to his knees. Just as it became more than he could bear, it stopped, leaving nothing but a lingering ache.

Mikaen remained still, his breathing slowly returning to normal. He was still kneeling in the grass when an out of breath and annoyed-looking Jeronem pushed his way through the forest overgrowth. The annoyed look on his face was quickly replaced with concern. "By the Creator! Are you okay? Did he shoot you?"

"I-I don't know. I don't think so."

"Come on, up we go!" Jeronem helped Mikaen to his feet. "Just walk it off."

"Wait! The monk dropped his weapon."

Jeronem looked where Mikaen indicated and quickly picked up the weapon with the end of his furry tail. Together, they limped back toward the path.

"The other monk?" Mikaen asked, as they hobbled along.

"He got away too. I don't understand it; I almost had him, and then BANG! He's gone! No residual magic or anything!" Shaking his head, Jeronem helped Mikaen sit down on a large stone on the side of the road.

"Thanks." Mikaen said gratefully. "Any idea what that was about?"

"What, the monks or you?"

"The monks. Don't tell me that's how they convert the unbelievers on Vinta."

Jeronem sniggered and shook his head. "Back before the Council maybe. I dunno, Mikaen; your guess is as good as mine."

Once ache fully faded, Mikaen asked, "What about that device he was using?"

"Oh, yeah!" Jeronem swung his tail around so that he could relieve it of the strange device. He fiddled with it for a few moments, his eyes wide with unmasked curiosity that quickly turned to annoyance. After a few moments, he let out an exasperated sigh and tossed it to Mikaen. "I think it's broken."

"Maybe in the fall. Give me a sec." Mikaen turned the weapon around in his hands. He probed it gently for switches, wishing that Jyle was with him; all tekkers were good at analyzing and manipulating new technologies, but Jyle was a master. He could have lifted the weapon from the monk and used it against him in mere seconds.

As Mikaen's probing fingers pressed against a small indention, a blue light shot from one end of it, encompassing Jeronem. The young vuestan went completely rigid, as though frozen in place.

"Jeronem!" Mikaen dropped the device instantly. The moment he took his finger off the trigger, the blue light faded.

Jeronem seemed no worse for wear. "Sorry, you said somethin'?"

Relieved, Mikaen retrieved the device. "It's some kind of stasis beam. They weren't trying to kill us; they were trying to capture us."

"Capture us? But why?"

"Ransom, I'd imagine. You are the son of Homestead's Elder, after all."

To Mikaen's surprise, Jeronem blew a raspberry at him. "Get serious, Mikaen. Even if they happened to know who I was, they'd risk pissing off my father and a nation of spell-shapers."

"Not exactly the healthiest plan."Mikaen admitted as he looked back at the weapon. It felt very much like a pistol in his hand, though the device looked considerably different than any handheld firearm that he had seen. Unfortunately, there were no marks of any kind branded on it, not even a manufacturer's symbol.

Mikaen paused a moment before admitting, "One tried to warn us."

"You think we should go back?" Jeronem asked.

A few hours later, Mikaen and Jeronem reached the fork in the road once again, only to find One sitting beneath a tree that had certainly not been there earlier.

"Not a word." Mikaen told him as they passed, causing the Dreamer to grin all the more widely.

12: Chapter 11 - Tricksy

The other path was long and winding, and eventually Mikaen and Jeronem had to stop and set up camp for the night near a body of water their map referred to as 'Yuna Lake', just as One expected. He sat on a thick branch high above the lake, watching as the two would-be adventurers approached the area in which they'd likely set camp.

"Right on schedule." Nodding, he turned his attention to the other side of the lake and watched for the arrival of another pair of travelers.

He ended up waiting an hour, and had almost fallen asleep by the time the two tigreth women strolled into the clearing. While commonly referred to (often in derogatory fashion) as cats, tigreth only shared a few features with their feline ancestors, most notably their fur, their tails, their ears, and their retractable claws.

One watched them silently as they pitched the tent. It was hard not to; both of the young ladies were quite lovely. The first had dark brown hair coupled with auburn fur, save for a patch of white. The other had blonde fur so light that it almost looked white, her hair a darker shade of blonde. The pair wore just enough clothing for modesty's sake, typical of the furred tribes of Longshore, though the blonde's clothing seemed slightly more modest than that of her companion.

"Well, I guess I'd better get started." One said a few minutes after the pair pitched their tent. He fished the wile out of his pocket and activated it.

Max was a master of blending technology, magic, and even dream energy into extremely useful (and occasionally unpredictable) tools and devices. One had used the 1-up generator on a few assignments, and most Dreamers still carry a blipper, an extremely innocuous little device that allowed the user to alter small bits of reality such as locks, buttons, and switches. The wile seemed just as useful, as a portable holographic emitter could serve as a makeshift blind, a convenient distraction, or a personal cloaking device.

One glanced down and saw nothing but the branch beneath him. Shaking himself at the strange sensation the sight brought him, he carefully climbed down the tree and approached the tent of the two tigreth. As he drew near, he listened to what the tigreth were saying.

"… another day in this Creator-forsaken forest. Next time, Dad can just get his lazy ass in gear. Hmpf."

A gentle voice reproached, "You shouldn't speak of father like that, Teria. He sent us because he thought it would be a good learning experience."

There was a loud snort. "I still can't believe you fell for that."

During the brief moment of silence that followed, One carefully peeled back the tent flap so he could get a view of the inside of the tent. The blonde tigreth was sitting on one of two quilted sleeping bags, looking a bit downcast, while the auburn tigreth with the white patch on her chest was rummaging through a backpack. They were both in their nightclothes, which consisted of little other than their undergarments and short shirts that ended just above their waists.

After an uncomfortable pause, the auburn-furred tigreth let out a sigh. "I'm sorry, Tirinia. I didn't mean to snap at you like that. I'm just annoyed that he dumped this on us. I mean, he could have at least made up a better excuse."

"Did mother say anything about it?" Tirinia asked, twirling the end of her long ponytail with her fingers.

Teria gave her sister a look. "Have you spoken with mom lately?"

"Not since she gave me the medicine for the thrall." Tirinia's cheeks burned red beneath her blonde fur.

One glanced down at Teach's list and double-checked his objectives. Teach had included a fairly in-depth explanation of exactly what One should do and exactly why he should do it, but One didn't really need it; he had prior experience with the tigreth and their mating rituals from previous assignments.

Since the beginning of their recorded history, there have been significantly more males than females in tigreth society. In what is probably a natural reaction of the abnormal male/female ratio, female tigreth engage their potential mates in combat until defeated. Potential mates are identified by attractiveness, strength, and certain psionic cues that the female can sense with a natural minor telepathic ability that manifests after maturity.

When a tigreth female comes of age, she will enter her mating phase, known among the tigreth as 'the thrall', once every four months. According to Teach's information, Tirinia had entered her thrall three days ago. The medication she had received from her mother was more than likely formulated to suppress the mating urge, a wise idea seeing as she was heading to Muonsol.

"Well, I guess it's too late to do anything about it now. Oh, speaking of medicine …" Teria set a small red pill on the small stack of books that sat beside Tirinia's sleeping bag before returning to her backpack. Tirinia glanced at it a moment before continuing to brush her hair.

Seeing an opportunity, One willed the pill to appear in his hand. Of course, as I've already mentioned, his skill at teleportation is iffy at best; he missed the pill, instead snagging the silver necklace laying on the same table. Wincing at his mistake, One glanced at the pendant. It was a very pretty piece of jewelry: seven silver turtles surrounding a crystal of a greenish hue. Something about it tugged at his memory, but trying to remember made his head hurt.

Hearing movement within the tent, he forgot about the pendant and looked back inside just as Teria pulled off her sky-blue shirt, revealing her lingerie and the rest of the wide streak of white fur that started at her mouth, spread across her chest and stomach, and ended just below her belly button.

One's stared as her shirt fell to the tent floor. Somehow, he just couldn't look away: her face, her body, even her tail seemed strangely alluring. His face growing hot, he tried to put Teria out of his mind and focus on the pill.

The blouse appeared in his hands moments later. He almost dropped it before he caught himself. His face burning, One set the blouse inside the tent flap and looked back at the nightstand only to see Tirinia slipping off her blouse as well.

Attempting to maintain his focus on the pill, One tried again. This time, the lamp from the table materialized a few feet away and fell to the floor of the tent with a muffled thump.

Teria whirled around in alarm. Tirinia, probably thinking she had accidentally knocked over the lamp while her vision was obscured by her blouse, blushed and said, "Just me. Sorry."

One decided that was enough failure teleporting for one day; the way he was going, next time he'd probably end up teleporting Tirinia herself into his hands instead of the pill, and … well, it'd be a fine mess if he returned to Teach bonded with Tirinia.

That was assuming that he'd be able to defeat her without the use of his Dreamer abilities. If he lost, he knew he'd probably be ripped limb from limb. As a Dreamer, he couldn't technically be killed (his physical shell would reform back at the Elsewhere moments after death), but that wouldn't stop him from feeling the pain of being torn to shreds.

There was nothing for it; he'd have to get closer. Glancing down to make sure the wile was still active, One ever-so-quietly peeled back the tent flap and tiptoed inside. There was no tarp; tigreth hearing is more sensitive than most, and what anyone else would hear as slight crinkling would no doubt sound like people wadding up handfuls of paper to tigreth ears, making sleep difficult if not impossible. This was good for One, as making even the smallest sound was likely to give away his presence instantly. Nevertheless, he was careful to not disturb so much as a single blade of grass as he slowly made his way across the tent to the makeshift nightstand beside Teria's sleeping bag.

Unaware of the Dreamer slowly tip-toeing through her tent, Teria snapped her fingers and said, "Oh, and let me know if that idiot Jek starts harassing you. As long as you take your medicine it shouldn't be a problem, but I don't want that twit as a brother-in-law."

Tirinia giggled. "Don't worry; he's definitely not my type."

"Really? And just what is your type, Tyr? Ooh, let me guess," Teria clasped her hands together and batted her eyelids, her voice sickeningly sweet a she said, "You're looking for someone tall, dark, and handsome to come along and sweep you off your feet."

Tirinia laughed as Teria pretended to swoon. "No! Well, maybe. I don't know. I just feel like there's someone out there waiting for me." She bowed her head, a lonely look on her face. "I just wish he'd hurry up already."

"Are you sure he's a he?" Teria asked, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"Creator's grace, not this again." Tirinia said.

"You and Nelvana have been spending a lot of time together lately, I'm just saying."

"She's my best friend! Besides, she's going out with …"

Teria's right ear twitched ever so slightly. "With …?"

Tirinia narrowed her eyes at Teria. "No one."

Teria approached her sister, her eyes alight. "Is it Devron? Mikah? It's Mikah, isn't it?"

When Tirinia refused to respond, Teria tackled her and started tickling the sides of her sister's stomach.

"Tell me!" Teria commanded as her sister erupted into laughter. "She's been smirking for the past month, and I just gotta know!"

"Never!" Tirinia said defiantly between fits of giggling.

With the two sisters occupied, One hurried over to where the pill lay, pulling a pill of an identical color out of his pocket. It was just a placebo; a sugar pill with a bitter coating that supposedly tasted identical to the real thing. He quickly swapped the pills and started toward the tent flap. As he passed the lamp, however, it began to flicker. With a surge of panic, he realized there was a thin, faintly visible stream of energy flowing from the stream-tech lamp to the Wile.

One quickly lifted his right hand. To his relief, the pull of the Wile wasn't strong enough to draw energy from the lamp. Sighing inwardly as the lamp stopped flickering, One took another step toward the door.

Snap. One's eyes riveted down to the stick he had just carelessly trodden upon. Across the tent, Teria looked up, her ears twitching.

"What was that?" She asked, her eyes wide and searching.

"What is what?" Tirinia asked a touch breathlessly.

Teria quickly rose to her feet and turned to face the rest of the tent, her eyes far too close to One's position for the Dreamer's comfort. "I dunno. I could've swore I just heard something."

"An animal, probably." Tirinia crouched down and started sneaking toward her sister. "We are in the forest, after all."

"I dunno. Maybe." said Teria, but she didn't sound convinced. Her eyes swept over where he stood, making One's heart leap into his throat.

One didn't dare move a muscle, not with Teria on full alert. He knew perfectly well that even the slightest noise would give his position away, even something as quiet as his clothes rubbing together. Teria took a tentative step toward him, her eyes still searching.

Tirinia tackled her sister to the ground, missing One by mere inches. Pinning her sister to the floor, she growled triumphantly. "Time for some revenge!"

"No, Tyr, wait a-" Teria's sentence was interrupted with her own laughter as Tyr's hands began a relentless assault armed with the sisterly knowledge of Teria's weak points.

One took a few more steps toward the tent flap. He was only a few feet away from his escape when Teria managed to slip out of her sister's grasp.

"All right, I give! I give!" Teria pleaded, her hands up defensively. "Nelvana will just blurt it out sooner or later, I'm sure."

"Good." Tirinia popped her neck and let out a sigh. "I think I'm gonna take a bath before bed."

"What, in the lake?" Teria asked, surprise in her voice. "Just gonna go skinny-dipping where anyone who happens to be nearby can see you?"

"I'm not going to sleep without a bath first. Besides, it's a cloudy night." Tirinia replied, the blush in her cheeks faintly visible beneath the thin blonde fur.

Shrugging, Teria waved her off. "Fine. Oh, hang on! Your anti-thrall medicine!"

Tirinia hesitated a moment before returning to her sleeping bag. She picked up the pill and flipped it into her mouth.

Turning back to her sister, Tirinia made an exaggerated gulping noise before asking, "Okay?"

"Yup. Have fun with the whole voyeurism thing."

Tirinia made a face at her sister before leaving the tent, a towel in hand. One tensed as Tirinia passed, bracing for the worst, but she walked by without a moment of hesitation.

Still smirking, Teria lay down on her sleeping bag and grabbed one of the books they had brought.

As One continued toward the tent flap, it suddenly occurred to him just how lucky he had been; he had just snuck through a tent with two tigreth, both female and one of which was in the thrall. The odds on anyone, even another tigreth, doing what One had just done without being caught were impressively slim.

As if in response to One's sudden cockiness, Teria suddenly looked straight at him. "Who's there?"

One froze solid, his heart beating a speedy cadence against his ribcage. How had she found him? His scent? Did he make some noise that her heightened hearing detected? However she was doing it, it was clear from the way she slowly closed in on his position that she was aware of his presence on some level.

As Teria drew nearer and nearer to One, his mind raced madly for a way out. His pride over being undetected was gone now, replaced with a level of panic so intense that Jeronem, who was well over a hundred yards away, momentarily felt a pervading sense of unease that he couldn't explain.

Teria finally came to stand right in front of One. He had long since nulled himself to dealing with the beautiful people; heroes and heroines often were fair of face, if not of spirit. Still, as he stared into her green eyes, he found himself momentarily breathless at the sight of her.

"Knock it off!" One thought to himself fiercely, quickly averting his gaze. "Mind on the job. We need to get out of here!"

He considered a madcap dash toward the tent flap, but decided against it; she would be able to move through the forest much faster than he would, and he wasn't about to risk teleporting with his earlier difficulties. The CPD was his best bet, but he needed to get out of her line of site before he could call it.

She suddenly leaned toward him, her arm outstretched and her eyes narrow. One reflexively started to step back but quickly stopped before his foot could hit the ground and give away his location. As she continued to reach toward him, he leaned as far as he dared to stay out of her reach.

After a few moments, she let out an aggravated snort.

"Get it together, Teria." she muttered as she started to lay down on her cot.

One let out his breath slowly, relief flooding through him. As he turned to leave, however, he managed to trip over his own feet and land face-first in the floor.

Teria was on her feet in an instant, thin claws emerging from the tips of her fingers as she moved toward One. Panicking, One reached for something to use as a distraction. There was a loud clang as the wile on his right hand hit the side of the fallen lamp.

With direct contact, it took the wile less than a second to suck the stream battery of the lamp completely dry, effectively snuffing out the light and leaving the tent shrouded in darkness.

"What the-" Teria said, but One was already on his feet and running. He hit the flap and dashed into the dark forest as fast as his legs could carry him.

13: Chapter 12 - Moonlight Swim

With a grunt, Mikaen slid the final rod in place. He stood and looked at the result of his labors for a moment before turning to Jeronem for comment.

Jeronem looked at the wobbling tent dubiously. "It's awfully small."

"I didn't want to use up all of the money your father gave us." Mikaen said defensively.

As he turned back to the tent, it collapsed into a pile of metal rods and canvas. Snorting, Mikaen gave the remains of the tent a moody kick. "I guess it wouldn't be the first time I've slept on the ground."

Jeronem patted his friend on the arm. "Don't worry about it."

He whirled his staff around and pointed at the tent. Instantly, the misshapen shelter began to change, first in size, then in shape. Within moments, the tent had become the size of a small house, complete with chimney and mailbox.

Mikaen glowered at Jeronem. "Showoff."

Jeronem beamed at Mikaen a moment before prancing up to the front door. As Mikaen started to follow, a sharp pain in the back of his leg made him pause. There was a rather nasty cut on the back of his thigh, probably from chasing the monk earlier that day. It didn't look serious, but it did need to be healed.

"Hey, Jeronem!" Mikaen called out, "I don't suppose you magicked a bathroom in there."

"No, but if you're looking for a bath, there's always the lake."

"The lake?"

"Yeah, Yuna Lake. The lake you insisted we camp near. Y'know, the big blue wet thing?"

Snorting, Mikaen said, "I know what a lake is, Jeronem."

"Then go knock yourself out." Jeronem stepped out of the tent, his staff in hand. "I'm going to see if I can't scare up some dinner."

"No insects this time, please." Mikaen called after him.

"Picky, picky."

Mikaen shook his head and headed in the direction of the lake. Jeronem wanted to camp right beside the lake, but Mikaen didn't want to risk such an open spot after the incident with the monks. Still, it only took Mikaen a few minutes to break through the undergrowth and reach the lakeside.

Yuna Lake, named after an ancient Sorceress whose tale had long since become legend, was actually two lakes that had become joined by a combination of idestan labor and natural erosion. It was believed to be a place of new beginnings; bathing in its waters prior to a new venture was said to bring the bather good luck.

Of course, Mikaen had no idea of this. His need was a bit simpler, though the sight of the lake did give him pause. Even partially obscured by clouds, the light from Everblue shone through the surface of the lake and moved slowly along the sandy dirt at the bottom.

After a few moments of admiring the moonlit lake, he knelt by the lakeside and began to unbuckle his tek-boots. Once the final straps were loose, he tugged the heavy leg armor off and set them beneath a nearby tree. After a moment's hesitation, he slid off his gauntlets and his shirt as well. He winced a little as the shirt slipped off of his back; though the cramp had faded hours ago, there was still a lingering soreness in his shoulders. He gingerly lowered his injured leg into the water, sighing with relief as the cool water washed over his bare skin.

Mikaen had never had the benefit of proper training to focus his energist abilities on Earth, so it had been quite a surprise to learn that energist magic not only encompassed the so-called elements, but minor healing powers as well. It wasn't much; any injury that was more than superficial would take a tremendous amount of stamina and time. A scratch, on the other hand, was well within his power.

Mikaen focused his concentration on the wound like Elduran had taught him. As his hands began to glow, wispy blue-green strands of lifestream energy spreading along his leg until they began to gather around the wound. In a matter of moments there was no trace of the cut, scar or otherwise.

Part of him wanted to return to camp; he was quite tired from the day's travel and was more than ready for a nice long rest. On the other hand, the cool water felt fantastic. Feeling slightly embarrassed even though he was alone, Mikaen slid off the rest of his clothes and threw them over his armor before wading out into the lake.

All of his aches and pains faded away as he swam through the lake, leaving him with a mellow, peaceful feeling that permeated every cell in his body. He floated on his back, staring up into the sky; while Everblue was the largest of Vinta's five moons, Mikaen could make out the small green ball that was Traysia floating in the night sky.

Staring at the night sky, Mikaen's thoughts wandered to Syrin and the rest of the Knights of the Star. When he thought about it, wasn't it possible that the Knights had already destroyed the Restored Earth Alliance? Perhaps he would return home to discover his enemy long gone. It was wishful thinking and he knew it, but it was still a pleasant thought … one that was abruptly interrupted when his head bumped into something that let out a yelp.

It only took Mikaen a moment to find his footing and spin about to face this threat, only to find Tirinia standing within arm's reach. They both simply stood there, both naked in the moonlit lake and clutching their respective heads as they stared speechlessly at the other.

For a single moment, Mikaen thought that she was Maria. Her almost white fur, her violet eyes, and even her face brought to mind his late fiancée. He started to reach forward to stroke her cheek when reality came crashing down on him. Maria was dead. With that realization, he began to notice little differences in her face and form. As she covered herself, her pale cheeks turning slightly darker in what was unmistakably a blush, Mikaen realized he had been staring at her for a few minutes, his hand partially raised as though to touch her.

He quickly dropped his hand and looked away, his own face growing warm. "My apologies, Miss. I didn't know realize-"

She began to back away, her soft growl silencing him in an instant. She may not have been Maria, but Mikaen recognized her reaction all too well. He had seen it on Maria's face when they had first met, when she had mistaken him a Rev and nearly killed him.

Mikaen started backed away, holding his hands up in what he hoped was a pacifying manner. "I'm sorry I intruded, Miss. I'll leave immediately."

He made it three steps before Tirinia leapt toward him, claws fully extended. Fortunately, Mikaen was ready for her; with a wave of his hand, a torrent of water rose from the lake and knocked her back.

Mikaen quickly moved aside in case she managed to fight her way through the surge, his mind racing for options. When he turned, however, Tirinia was nowhere to be seen.

"Winged humanoids, monks with energy weapons, and now this." Mikaen muttered, wishing he had studied more about other Vintan races during his stay in Homestead.

He could only imagine what had set her off; perhaps he had mispronounced something. Elduran had taught him Vintan Common, but he had only a few opportunities to use it prior to leaving Homestead. Perhaps it was more simple than that; she may have just been angry at being caught skinny-dipping, perceiving him as a peeping tom or worse.

Whatever the reason for her aggression, Mikaen decided the best course of action would be to leave immediately. Keeping his eyes and ears open, he waded toward the shore. Just as he reached his abandoned gear, he heard a twig snap above him. He looked up just in time to see Tirinia leaping toward him.

Her surprise attack knocked him to the ground, just out of reach of his clothes and equipment. She tried to take a swipe at his unprotected throat, but Mikaen managed to catch her wrists and push her back.

"Look," he hissed through clenched teeth as he struggled to keep her claws away, "I'm not here to fight you, so GET OFF!"

With a loud grunt, Mikaen kicked Tirinia off him and into the lake. Quickly gaining his feet, Mikaen looked to the once-tranquil water. The last few ripples were subsiding, but there was no sign of his assailant.

Hearing the telltale sound of sliding metal directly behind him, he spun around just in time to grab the shaft of Truth before the blade split him in two.

Tirinia's eyes glittered as she slowly forced Mikaen back with a surprising amount of strength for a woman her size. He tried to gain control, but she retaliated by kicking his feet out from under him.

Mikaen grabbed the butt end of Truth as he fell and channeled a gust of wind through the amplifier. The blast of air shot the weapon out of her hands and straight into the depths of the lake.

Thinking fast, Mikaen knocked her off her feet while she was confused and leapt on top of her.

Pinning her arms and legs to the ground and trying to ignore the press of her bosom against his, he said, "Look, I don't know what your problem is, and I don't care; I'm not here to-"

Mikaen wasn't sure how it happened; one moment he was shouting at her, the next Tirinia was in his arms, her fur soft as velvet against his skin, her hair running through his fingers, and the scent of spiced apples on her breath as their lips met.

After what felt to Mikaen like an eternity, he and Tirinia separated. As he met her gaze, it suddenly occurred to him that he was still lying on top of her. His face red, Mikaen rose to his feet and helped Tirinia to stand. For the longest time, all he could do was stare into her deep, purple eyes. They didn't have a shred of clothing between them, yet it was the silence that embarrassed him.

Tentatively, she took his hand. Mikaen's heart began to beat wildly as she slowly and deliberately rubbed his hand against her cheek. He couldn't seem to think; her touch wiped the slate of his mind clean.

He must have flinched, for Tirinia blushed and quickly released his hand, whispering, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't-"

Her apology fell short as Mikaen, his arm moving almost independent of his control, gently took her hand and repeated the gesture, rubbing her delicate hand against his rough cheek. He wasn't sure why; it just seemed the right thing to do.

Passion in her eyes, she pulled Mikaen close. As her body pressed against his, he closed his eyes; all of his control, all of his training, all thoughts of Earth, the Knights and the Revs slipped blissfully away.

"Yo, Mikaen! Ready for some grub?"

Jeronem's piping mental voice made Mikaen jerk back in surprise, and with that the spell was broken. Tirinia slipped away in an instant, leaving Mikaen alone on the riverbank. He felt a strange sense of disembodiment as he stood there in the light of the moons; it was as if he had awoken from a long sleep and his mind was still working on sorting out dreams from reality.

"Mikaen! Hello? Can you hear me?"

"I'm right here, Jeronem." Mikaen called out. "Give me a sec, okay?"

Mikaen glanced around again, hoping to catch a glimpse of Tirinia, but there was only the once again tranquil lake and the silent forest. Shaking his head, he put his clothes on, picked up his armor, and headed back toward camp.

Jeronem had caught a bird-like creature with four legs that tasted a little like chicken. Despite the cabin having a fully-stocked kitchen, the young vuestan insisted on cooking outside on a fire, probably as an excuse to roast the bird with a burst of flame. After they finished eating, Mikaen cleaned and stowed the cooking implements as Jeronem leaned back against a tree trunk with the book on sentients.

As Jeronem read silently, Mikaen stared into the depths of the fire, his mind on the tigreth. He couldn't stop thinking about her; her face, her body, even the way she had fought hung in his mind, making it difficult to think about anything else. Even thoughts of Earth seemed strangely distant in comparison.

Jeronem's eyes peeked over the top of the book. "You're quiet. What's up?"

Mikaen shook his head. "It's nothing."

"Obviously not, or you'd just spit it out already."

After a brief internal debate, Mikaen asked Jeronem, "What can you tell me about the tigreth?"

Marking his place in the book and setting it aside, Jeronem leaned forward so that his elbows rested on his knees. "The tigreth are pretty much the backbone of Longshore. There aren't as many tigreth as there are lupere or the tauren, but most important government positions have been left to the tigreth since the time of King Calliban."

"What happened?" Mikaen asked curiously.

"Calliban's initial assault decimated the fional, the previous leaders of Longshore. They would've been wiped out completely if it weren't for the tigreth. The story goes that the tigreth forces were only a tenth of the size of Calliban's forces, yet they fought so fiercely and with such cunning that the Galden were completely routed. By the time the Galden mounted a second assault, the tauren and the lupere had joined the tigreth, making the Longshore forces an easy match for Calliban's army. Ever since then, the tigreth have been the voice of Longshore in … well, pretty much everything."

"What of the fional?" asked Mikaen as he poked at the fire, "Did they recover?"

Jeronem nodded. "Yeah, they did, but they're still in hiding. You still see fional around, but they fiercely guard the locations of their cities and rarely interact with outsiders."

Mikaen stared into the embers. "I can understand why."

"So why the sudden interest in the tigreth, Mikaen?"

Feigning nonchalance, Mikaen replied, "Just a random thought."

He felt a sudden deep ache in his upper back, similar to what he had felt after the monks attacked, though not nearly as bad. He sighed and shifted position as the ache subsided.

Jeronem raised an eyebrow at Mikaen. "Another cramp?"

Mikaen waved off his friend's worried glance. "I'm fine. My back's been bothering me since I was on Earth. Syrin told me it was nothing to worry about; 'the side effects of an active lifestyle', I think she said."

After a few moments of silence, Jeronem sighed and fixed Mikaen with a knowing glance. "Well, I guess I'll head to bed, but tomorrow you've got to tell me how you beat that tigreth."

Mikaen raised an eyebrow. "How did-"

"You never were good at hiding your thoughts. Goodnight." Without another word, Jeronem picked up the book and headed toward the cabin.

Shaking his head, Mikaen quelled the fire with a wave of his hand before following Jeronem into the cabin. It wasn't as nice as his house back in Homestead, but it was a far-cry better than the tent Mikaen had brought along.

Jeronem was already fast asleep, his tail hanging off the edge of a small bed in the largest room in the cabin. Choosing another room, Mikaen tossed his gear in the corner and climbed into bed. As he pulled the thick, quilted blanket around him, he tried to put the image of Tirinia out of his mind so he could get some rest.

Just as he started to drift into a deep sleep, his thoughts turned to his mysterious friend, One, and what trouble he might be up to at the moment.

One ran through the forest, tearing through bushes and hurling past trees. He was practically covered with scrapes and bruises, he had dirt in his hair and nostrils, and the right sleeve of his favorite green and gray-striped shirt had a tear in it.

He had clearly underestimated the tenacity of a tigreth on the prowl. No matter how craftily he navigated the forest, no matter how hard he tried to lose her, she had kept up with him perfectly. That he had stayed ahead of her thus far was quite frankly amazing, considering she was a tigreth.

Still, One wouldn't be able to run forever. Dreamer or not, he was still a just a slightly out of shape human who was not used to prolonged sprints. He mentally kicked himself for not bringing along his tek-boots.

After running for what felt like hours, One glanced back and found Teria gone.

"Oh, thank God!" He said as he skidded to a halt and quickly focused his thoughts on the Elsewhere. "I thought I'd never lose her!"

The CPD appeared moments later, embedded in a nearby tree as though it had always been there. One ran toward the door, and was just about to close his hand around the knob when Teria erupted through the bushes and tackled him to the ground. His arms and legs pinned, One braced himself for the tearing pain of her claws rending his flesh.

Then, to his amazement, all of the anger and ferocity in Teria's face vanished, replaced with a look of utter disbelief. Without a word, she stood up and stepped away from him.

"Look, I can explain." One said as he stood up, not sure what was going on but glad for it none-the-less, "I'm here to-"

"It's you." She whispered.

One blinked. "I'm sorry?"

That was apparently not the right thing to say. Teria punched him in the face hard enough to knock him to the ground. Energy swirled around her fist as she stood over him, her face livid. One had dealt with a few Streamers during previous Vintan assignments. The only thing worse than an angry brawler is an angry brawler who can channel magical energy into every kick and punch.

One pushed himself up, trying to ignore the spots that were now flashing before his eyes. Holding a hand to his now throbbing cheek, he said, "Cyber-friggin-cripes! What the heck was that for?"

"Why did you come back!?" She demanded. "Why?"

One was dumbfounded. He occasionally ran into old friends and enemies on assignments, but as far as he knew, he had never seen Teria. Before he could think of a response, she grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him to his feet. One tensed for what was to come, hoping that it wouldn't be her fist.

Without warning, she pulled him close and gave him a kiss that made him tingle right down to the tips of his toes. His eyes flew open, but somehow he couldn't break away. She released his shirt and slipped her hands around him in an unmistakable embrace.

As they released, she rubbed his cheek tenderly, whispering, "I missed you, Glen."

One was about to tell her she had clearly mistaken him for someone else (in as gentle a manner possible, of course), but his words died in his mouth.

Somehow, he did remember her. It was like a half-forgotten memory buried beneath hundreds of assignments, but it was there: a moment of warmth and affection between two lonely souls, a sense of belonging after an eternity of loneliness. He raised a trembling hand to touch her cheek.

The pain hit him with the intensity of a lightning bolt. It was a seething, burning agony that seemed to course through every inch of his being in a way he had never experienced either before or after becoming a Dreamer. He fell to the ground, clutching his head and screaming.

Teria took a step back, looking as though she wanted to do something, but didn't know what. "What is it? What's wrong? Glen, talk to me!"

One wanted to respond, but the pain was overwhelming; it felt as though his mind was tearing itself apart. Everything began to fade from his vision: the moons, the night sky, the forest, and finally Teria. Her worried face was the last thing One saw before the darkness overcame him.

14: Chapter 13 - Remember Me?

The young man who would one day become Narrator Number One sat at the edge of Yuna Lake, staring up at the evening sky. His arm was covered with burns, his leg still hurt like hell, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he was forgetting something. Despite that, however, Glen was happy … happier than he had been in a long while.

He turned his head to see Teria sitting beside him. She had made it relatively unscathed through their whole ordeal. One of her hands was resting on the river bank beside his, but the other was fiddling with her necklace. It seemed such a simple thing for something that had caused so much trouble; seven turtles surrounding a small crystalline orb.

It was strange; they had been at each other's throats for months after they had first met, but now he couldn't remember having cared more about someone. He felt closer to her than he ever had with anyone, even the members of his former team.

She glanced at him and caught his stare. A year ago, she might have cracked a joke about it or said something to embarrass him. Now, however, she blushed and looked away.

"So." She said, her eyes staring resolutely at the starlight sky. "What's the plan now?"

"I don't know." Glen admitted. "Even if I could get back to Earth, there's nothing left for me there anymore. I guess I'll have to find some place here, though I'm not sure who'd take me."

"I wouldn't say that. I mean, you're pretty handy with Headache, and more than capable of holding your own in a fight. I'm sure you could make a place for yourself pretty much anywhere."

Glen chuckled. "I wouldn't know where to start."

"Well," Teria slid her hand into his, a small smile on her lips as she sidled closer to him. "You could always come back to Longshore with me."

"Is that an order?" Glen asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

Teria let out an embarrassed laugh, her finger running across the silver ring Glen wore on his right hand. "No, no more orders. I'm just asking. If you don't want to, I'll understand. Creator knows you have every reason to say no after what I put you through."

He gave her hand a light squeeze. "And if I go with you?"

Her cheeks went crimson. Still pointedly not looking at him, she said, "I like you and I know you like me, and I'll be seventeen in a month's time. If you're interested, I mean. I know you'll be strong enough to … y'know."

She chanced another look at Glen, only to find him looking right at her. After a moment of silence, she grabbed him by the shoulders and kissed him passionately.

Hugging him tightly, she whispered, "Stay with me. Please."

"As you command." He whispered back.

She pulled away from him, a strange look on her face. "Pardon me?"

"I said ..." His voice fell silent as he realized that there was something wrong; her face was a good five years older, and distinctly furless. Rising to his feet, he demanded, "Who are you?"

"One? It's me, Luck!"

With that, the spell was broken. Yuna Lake was replaced by the movie-laden shelves and cabinets of the Matinee. He stared around in bewilderment as the last vestiges of the memory clung to his mind.

"Teria." He said, looking at Luck.

Luck's eyes widened. "W-what?"

"Teria! Teria Myssohn!" He grabbed Lucks' hands and said, "Just before I joined the Elsewhere, I traveled her over half of Vinta! We went everywhere: Ronisgald, the Cleftan Region, Wenapaj ... she was running away from home!"

Seeing a look of fear in Luck's pretty blue eyes, One realized he was nearly to the point of hysteria and quickly let go of her. "Sorry; it's just ... I just saw her again, and everything came flooding back! I can't believe I forgot about all that! I mean, we were almost-"

One stopped abruptly, the realization that he was about to tell Luck, of whom he was quite fond, about his near-bonding to Teria. One may not have had Two's experience in matters of romance, but even he knew this to be a bad idea.

"But why now?" He asked instead. "And why did it hurt so much?"

Hearing someone clear their throat, One turned and realized he and Luck weren't alone; Atraius was sitting in the chair next to the couch, a bemused expression on his face.

What can I say about Atraius? He's one of the few Dreamers who doesn't go by a nickname, as well as one of the four founding members of the Elsewhere. His exploits take up fifty-seven bookshelves in the Library (though at that point in time, they merely occupied forty-six shelves). Most unusual, however, is that he has been unable to speak vocally since a particularly nasty assignment on the world of Faelle, instead speaking mentally much in the same manner as a vuestan. He is a great painter and a model Dreamer, though his role in this story is quite small.

Atraius smiled kindly at One and held up a silver ring. "I believe this is the cause of your little fit."

"My memory artifact." One murmured as Atraius handed him the ring.

"You had a nasty memory surge."

One shook his head. "Memory surge? You mean the seal just broke? I thought that was impossible."

"It is unusual, certainly. You are fortunate that Luck had the good sense to call me when you returned."

Luck put up her hand to interject. "Translation for the girl who's never used a memory artifact?"

Atraius smiled at her. "My apologies. When the seal broke, all the memories stored in the pendant tried to jam themselves back in One's head in a single instant. That may work for a computer, but people aren't that simple; intense pain aside, he'd have been unconscious for the duration of the original memory."

"Which was at least a year." One rubbed his forehead; his memories of that year were still heavily fragmented. A few images flashed through his mind, but without context it was like looking at someone else's family photos. Over everything else hung the big question, however: what did all of this have to do with his feelings for Luck?

"One?" There was concern in Luck's voice as she spoke, resting her hand on One's shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Shaking his head, he said, "I'm good. Still, I need to know the rest."

Luck's grip tightened slightly. "One, you were screaming. Really screaming. I've only seen one person scream like that before, and it scared me then too."

"I'm fine." After a moment of silence, One put his hand over Luck's on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze, saying in a kinder tone. "Thanks for asking, though."

"I wouldn't advise you keep the ring." Atraius's mental voice cautioned. "I managed to put up a temporary seal, but it won't stop whatever broke the original seal from breaking it again. You should either eradicate or reintegrate the memories as soon as possible."

"Which means I need to have a talk with Mom." He shook Atraius's hand and said, "Thanks for the save, Atraius."

"You are most welcome. If you'll excuse me." With a final bow of his head, Atraius turned and headed to the nearest floor exit.

"And thank you for being on hand when I came back." One told Luck, rubbing the back of his head. "Sorry if I scared you."

She bopped him gently on the head. "You're welcome. Don't do it again."

"I won't." One said. "I'm going straight to Mom to get this sorted out."

As he started to walk away, Luck asked, "One? I was wondering … could I see the ring?"

"Huh? Oh, sure." He glanced down at the ring for a moment before shrugging and handing it to her.

She turned it over in her hands, peering at the tiny piece of silver with an intensity One had rarely seen in her eyes.

"Someone's got an eye for detail." She told him, still turning the ring in her slender fingers. "You said it has something to do with this Teria person?"

"Yeah. I think it's connected to her pendant, but I can't remember how. Well, not yet anyway."

"Can I have it?"

The question caught One off guard. She rolled the ring over her fingers and flicked it into her other hand, her wide eyes never leaving his face.

"Sure." he told her. "After I get the memories reintegrated. Why not?"

She flicked the ring into the air, where One clumsily clapped his hands over it. As he fumbled with the ring, she stood on her tiptoes and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks." She whispered in his ear before prancing away, humming happily to herself.

One watched after her for a moment before he remembered he had something to do. Shaking his head, he headed for his floor's elevator.

As he rode the lift to the Lobby, he found his thoughts returning to the memory at Yuna Lake … or more specifically, to Teria. It was pretty obvious that they had something a bit more than just infatuation. She had practically proposed to him, and One couldn't help but notice that his past self had raised no argument. The lingering feelings of attraction and affection still clung to his mind, filling him with that same strange warmth he felt when he was around Luck.

Then what was it? He knew he hadn't actually bonded with her, as he wasn't getting an empathic read of her emotions. There had to be something else in the memories that would explain it.

"At least I hope there is." One muttered as the doors slid open.

Mom was working at her desk. As One drew near, he noticed she was typing rather hard at her keyboard, an expression of annoyance on her usually cheerful face.

"Hey, Mom." One said, giving her a wave as he drew near. "You okay?"

She gestured wordlessly toward the large fountain with little cherub statues who appeared to be relieving themselves into the basin. She wasn't gesturing at the fountain or the chubby cherubs standing on the edges, although they were new additions to the Lobby; Two and Teach were standing beside the fountain, their noses about half a foot apart. They looked as though they were screaming at each other, but One couldn't hear so much as a peep from either of them.

"Why can't I hear anything?" One asked, turning back to Mom. She held up a small remote control and clicked it at Two and Teach.

"Why can't you at least try to do something unselfish for a change?"

"Why don't you kiss my-"

With another click, silence descended over the floor. Mom set the control down. "A little present from Max. I can key it to various Dreamers, over a small area or guard, or over my entire floor."

"Nice!" One said as he picked up the remote.

He could think of about a million uses for such a device, most of which were at least a little mischievous. After glancing over the controls for a moment, he aimed the remote at the arguing Dreamers and pressed the button marked 'subtitles'. Instantly, letters appeared in midair just below Teach and Two, presumably spelling out the words they spoke.

"He's only one Dreamer. If he …" Teach gestured toward One. "… can get the kid to roll me into a ball of junk-"

"Katamari. The proper term is katamari." Two replied, smirking.

Just as Teach opened his mouth (presumably to tell Two just where he could stick a katamari), Mom took the control from One and switched off the subtitling.

"If you want to talk with them, just walk through the guard." She told him.

Glancing at the two of them for a moment, One shook his head. "Nah, I got work to do. Speaking of which …"

He pulled the ring from his pocket and set it on Mom's desk. "I'd like to reincorporate these memories into my subconscious minus the painful migraines, if that's all right with you."

"Teach told me he was going to give this back to you as a last ditch effort." She said, disapproval as obvious in her voice as it was on her face. "I was hoping it wouldn't have come to that."

"Yeah, well you know how stubborn I can be."

She turned it over in her hands, peering at it as though she could examine the memories inside. "Are you absolutely sure you want to do this? You must have had a good reason for storing the memories in the first place."

"Whether I want them or not, the memories are going to reintegrate. Something broke the seal."

"Memory surge, huh? Ouch."

One put a hand to his head in remembered pain. "Don't remind me."

She gave him a sympathetic look before returning her attention to the ring. "This may take a few minutes to set up. While you're waiting, would you be a dear and talk to Teach and Two? At least get them to move it to one of their own floors if you can."

"What's wrong, Mom? No channel select on your remote?"

Mom picked up the remote and pointed it threateningly at One. "How would you like to be dubbed in French?"

Chuckling, One approached Two and Teach. He felt a wave of energy wash over him as he passed through the guard.

"… can take your Anti-ka Maru and-"

One quickly stepped between them, saying loudly, "Vous deux, Arrêtez-vous! Vous dérangez Maman!"

Two and Teach looked blankly at One. Realizing what he had said, One glared back at Mom. With a smile and a shrug of her thin shoulders, she clicked the remote at him again.

"Am I …? Ah, good." One put his hand on his hips and looked at them expectantly. "All right; now what're you two arguing about?"

Teach and Two starting talking at once, each trying to drown the other out.

One waved for them to stop again. "Hey, hey, hey! Knock it off already! Two, you go first."

Teach gave One a look of utter indignation. "Why does he get to go first?"

"He's my best friend. Besides, he didn't just pester me into an assignment."

Flashing a victorious smirk at Teach, Two said, "It's Wong."

"What's wrong?"

"Not wrong, WONG! Wong Fo-lee, the new Dreamer!"

One nodded. "Oh, right, the otaku. Is he giving you some kinda problem?"

"He is the problem!" Two replied exasperatedly. "He doesn't listen to a word I say, he disappears and reappears with no explanation, and he changes languages every ten minutes! I just can't take it anymore, so I asked Teach to let someone else train him."

One turned to Teach. "Your retort?"

With an air of affronted dignity, Teach said, "I told him he would simply have to deal with it. Training new Dreamers is something we've all had to do, even you, and no one's ever claimed to have anywhere near this much trouble. When I trained Jay, I certainly had a hard time, but I never tried to push him off on someone else."

"A hard time?" said Two, an incredulous look on his face, "Jay pretended to be the son of a god!"

"At least he tries to help people." Teach said sharply.

Two let out a snort. "Like the millions he duped into thinking he was their savior? Oh yeah, he's been a hell of a lot of help."

Soon, they were shouting at each other even louder than before.

One held up his hands and shouted, "KNOCK IT OFF!"

Teach and Two fell silent instantly, each looking daggers at the other.

Sighing, One put his hand on Two's shoulder. "Tell you what; I'm on an assignment, and Wong needs to learn how to keep his powers in control in the mainstream. Why don't Two and Wong come with me to Muonsol tomorrow and I'll help show him the ropes. Maybe you guys can give me a hand."

"Yeah!" Two said, nodding, "I could go for that."

One held up a finger. "Just so we're clear, I'll help you teach the little dude. I don't want you to wander off into the …" he glanced at Teach. "Does Muonsol have a red-light district?"

Seeing Teach's nod, One continued, "I don't want you wandering off into the red-light district, leaving me with the new guy."

"I couldn't ditch Wong if I wanted to." He pointed to his wrist, where he now wore a shiny gold bracelet emblazoned with the letters 'BFF'.

"Best friends forever?" One had to try hard not to laugh.

Two scowled. "Someone slipped this onto me while I was entertaining a lady last night."

"Anyone I know?" One asked curiously.

"The point is," Two said, his cheeks red, "It allows the person with the other bracelet, who in this case happens to be Wong, to instantly teleport to wherever I am, whenever I am, even through a guard."

Something suddenly occurred to One. "Say," he asked, looking around, "Where is the little dude anyway?"

Teach and Two pointed at the fountain.

"I don't see anything." One said, peering into the water.

The stream of water coming from the nearest statue slowed to a trickle.

Alarmed, One glanced up at the statue as it zipped up the pants it was suddenly wearing and turned around to face One.

"Ichi-san! So good to see you again!" Wong leapt from the fountain and held out his hand.

One looked at Wong disgustedly. "You didn't even wash your hands!"

"You're right!" Wong turned and began washing his hands in the fountain.

Two pointed at him. "See what I mean, Teach?"

After a moment's pause, he glanced around. "Teach? Son of a flat-chested lesbian!"

One didn't need to turn around to know Teach had left. He said dourly, "Pretty quick for a librarian, isn't he?"

Wong dried his hands on his shirt and turned to One, hand once again out to be shaken.

Tactfully ignoring Wong's outstretched hand, One said, "So, I guess you heard that you and Two will be helping' me out a bit. Anything you wanna ask?"

Wong nodded and asked, "Oh, yes! I have a question! Why are you tactfully ignoring my hand?"

One wasn't sure how to respond, so instead he turned to Two. "I'm gonna take a nap before I go back again. Why don't you and Wong meet me at Junction Point for a quick rundown on the basics?"

Two grumbled, "Don't take two long."

As Two and Wong left the floor, One walked over to Mom's desk. The ring hung in the air in front of her face, thousands of strands of light swirling around it. She stared intently into the cloud of strands, her fingers gently manipulating individual threads.

"I'm almost afraid to ask." He started to lean on the desk, but a stern look from Mom made him think better of it.

"I'm having trouble locating the actual memories." She told him, brow furrowed. "You know, the seal on this ring is unusually strong. I don't see how it could be deteriorating."

"Well, Atraius made the new seal, and you know how thorough he is. Can you unlock it?"

She snorted. "Of course. It's just a matter of time."

"No need to rush it." He told her. "It's not for an assignment or anything."

Mom chuckled, saying, "Of course. I'll let you know the minute I finish unlocking the memory seal."

"Thanks, Mom!" One gave her a kiss on the cheek.

Mom shooed him away, unable to keep the smile off her face.

15: Chapter 14 - Dreamer 101

When speaking of the Dream Realm, the words of famed archmage and explorer, Aveenan Millichance, come first to mind: "The Dream Realm is nothing more or less than the way one's mind interprets the unfathomable nature of reality. We close our earthly eyes only to see all that is, all that was, and all that will ever be, cloaked in an unending sunset."

It is a fitting and surprisingly accurate description of the Dream Realm; every town, every city, every landmark that exists in the mainstream is there, floating in the Twilight, the Dream Realm's sky. Floating islands and continents hang in the beautiful hues of a sunset that is truly unending. In the center of it all lies the Solarius, the sun of the Dream Realm. Flying high in the Twilight, the Solarius's warmth and light can be felt and seen across the Dream Realm.

Somewhere within the Twilight floats a single island with a single oak tree. The island itself isn't very big; maybe thirty feet in diameter, most of which is covered with grass that waved slightly in the slightly cool wind of the Twilight. Beneath the tree, One slowly opened his eyes and stared at the waving branches for a moment before rising to his feet.

"It never gets old." He said as he stood at the edge of the island, taking in the view. A large continent covered with blue trees was floating not too far from his island, a massive tower of ivory and obsidian jutting both above and below the trees and dirt. Another small island, this one adorned with a lighthouse, floated quite near his. He waved at the small mouse-eared girl sitting on the island's edge, her feet dangling in the air. She waved back with a shy smile.

She was a nixil. Nixils are native to the Dream Realm, and are an integral part to dreaming. When a dream-capable being first dreams, a nixil is born in the Dream Realm. It is through this nixil's eyes that the dream-capable being sees the Dream Realm. The nixil is only a wisp at first, but as the connected dream-capable being grows, so does the nixil. The interpretation of the changes on the nixil side are widely debated among Dreamers, nixils, and Sleepers like Millichance who gain enough realization to explore the Dream Realm.

One watched the lighthouse for a few moments before shaking his head. "I'd better get moving."

Without further preamble, he jumped off the side of the island. As he tumbled through the sky, he emptied his mind of everything except thoughts of the open Twilight all around him. It beckoned him to explore, to see all that there was to see. With that, he was no longer falling; he was flying. A thread of light shone from the tip of his ponytail, slowly swirling around his body in an unending spiral as the Dreamer soared through the Twilight toward the distant Solarius.

Manifestation is the most basic of Dreamer abilities, one that most Dreamers figure out on their own, regardless of whether or not they are part of the Elsewhere. While in the Dream Realm, there is an inherent energy present in emotion: it is collected and used as currency by nixils and the other beings that inhabit the Dream Realm, and can be used as raw building materials when properly refined. In its purest form, however, this energy can manifest in such a way to allow those skilled with such things to accomplish all manner of feats, such as the ability to fly. While the appearance of each emotion's manifestation varies according to the individual, the result is generally the same.

One flew through the Twilight unhindered; while even the Dream Realm has its share of dark beings and nasties, none would be stupid enough to assault a Dreamer without a considerable amount of forethought beforehand. Without the mainstream's limitations, a Dreamer's power while in the Dream Realm is not something to be taken lightly.

His path took him over Bridges; it wasn't the dilapidated city that Mikaen knew, however. Rather, it appeared as it did before the Devastation. One flew a few rings around the water tower before continuing along his way, several young nixils cheering as he zoomed by.

That was the way of the Dream Realm; bits of the mainstream existed there in an unusual state of temporal flux. To put it simply, people see the Dream Realm analogs of mainstream locations as they best remember them. Mikaen only knew of the city torn in half by the Rip, whereas One saw the city as the suburban town it was in his youth. Time was of no consequence; there were no doubt nixils who would see the town as it would be in the future.

The Dream Realm isn't only bits of the Mainstream, however; the nixils have built many a fine city for their own use. The grandest of all was Etheria, built beneath the Solarius in what is considered the center of the Dream Realm. The city itself is massive, easily bigger than the entire continent of Ircandesta and Ronisgald combined. The architecture ranges from mundane to fantastic, sometimes even to impossible. In the center of Etheria is a massive spire, known as Junction Point. The spire shares a special place in Dream Realm lore, as Junction Point's creation was intertwined with that of the Solarius.

There is a tranquil park at the very top of Junction point. Streams of water run from the fountain in the center of the park, flowing across the grassy meadow like the spokes of a wheel. Several trees grow there, leaves glowing from constant exposure to the Solarius above. The fountain contains thirteen statues, each modeled after a famous dreamlander who represented a sign of the Dream Realm's zodiac. Their tale is a fascinating one, but has little to do with this particular story.

When Narrator Number One landed near the fountain, where Nixil the nixil was waiting. Nixil was One's nixil, and was a bit of an oddity as well; typically, nixils reach maturity at the same time as their corresponding dream-capable being, at which point the nixil will begin to grow and develop independently (typically gaining more humanoid traits).

It is a bit different with the Dreamers. When a Dreamer becomes a Dreamer, the connection with the nixil is cut. For the most part, this isn't a problem; most Dreamers only became so after reaching maturity, which left their nixils able to mature into humanoid forms as normal. One, however, had been only fifteen years old when he first became a Dreamer. As a result, Nixil was essentially left as a furry blue ball with comically over-sized feathered wings, two bird-like claws on his bottom, two surprisingly normal looking eyes, and three multicolored tentacles protruding from the top of his head.

"Hi, Nixil!" One said cheerily as Nixil flew toward him.

Nixil glared at One with surprising intensity for a flying blue ball. "Hello yourself, you lazy bum."

"Someone's a bit grumpy today. Do you need a hug?"

Nixil's eyes narrowed into thin slits of annoyance. "Kiss my ass, One."

One scratched his head, saying condescendingly, "Now there's a thought. Do you even have an ass?"

This was generally how One and Nixil interacted. Nixil blamed One for his condition, and did his best to make the Dreamer feel as guilty as possible at every possible opportunity.

Nixil clamped his vise-like claws onto One's shoulder and 'accidentally' thwacked One in the head with a large white-feathered wing.

Settling onto his new perch, Nixil asked haughtily, "So what brings Mister Big-shot Dreamer to Junction Point? Come to smell the roses? Well, I'd join you, but someone never bothered dreaming me up a nose!"

One ignored him. He had originally felt sorry for his stranded nixil, but after years of verbal abuse, he had learned that sympathy only made Nixil more irritable.

"We're training a new Dreamer today. Have you seen his nixil around here, by any chance?"

Nixil pressed a tentacle against his head in a vain attempt to look tortured. "The other nixils tell the newbies to stay away from me. Afraid that maybe they'll turn out wrong too, no doubt."

Shaking his head, One walked to the fountain and basked in the warmth radiating from the Solarius above. He relishing the feel of the focused dream energy infusing his entire body; it was like getting all the pleasant warmth from a thousand summer days all at once.

Nixil enjoyed the feeling as well, much in the same way a cat enjoys lying in a patch of sunlight, only much stranger-looking.

Hearing a loud cough, One reluctantly stepped away from the fountain.

Two and Wong were waiting for him, their nixils waiting close by. Zilch, a weasel that had recently achieved a slightly humanoid form (and a very snippy attitude) stood beside Wong's Nixil, a large chicken with disproportionately large wings. Much like Two, Zilch had a distinctly annoyed look on his face.

"Hey Two. Hey Wong. Hey Zilch." One patted Two's nixil on the shoulder. "Have any trouble getting here?"

Zilch snorted and looked pointedly away from Wong. Two opened his mouth to say something, but One beat him to it.

"No? Good." Clapping his hands together, he continued, "Now let's get started. Wong?"

Wong snapped to attention and saluted.

"At ease, soldier," One laughed, "We're just going to practice some very basic Dreamer abilities. We're doing it here so we don't have to worry about using too much dream energy."

Wong cocked his head questioningly.

Taking a deep breath, One said, "Right. Let's start with the basics. We are Dreamers."

Wong raised his hand, saying, "Ooh! Mister One! Should I be taking notes?"

One had to try hard to not glare at him. "Now, our powers as Dreamers come from where we are now standing, or more precisely, what's above us."

As everyone looked up, One said, "That crystal is known as the Solarius. Just like suns support life on planets in solar systems, the Solarius is what allows the Dream Realm to exist separately from the mainstream. When a dream-capable being dreams, he, she, or it creates a small quantity of Dream energy, which is channeled through the Solarius. The Solarius sends that energy across the Dream Realm, where it helps nixils grow and evolve, helps expand the Dream Realm, and most importantly gives us the ability to mess around in the mainstream … that is, the mainstream reality that norms live in."

"Now, we can access the energy while we're in mainstream reality, but the more we use, the more strained the barrier between the mainstream and the Dream Realm becomes. The more you use in an area, the harder it is to play around with reality. However, while we are in the Dream Realm, our power can never run out. Dream energy saturates the air, replacing any that we use. That's why I thought it'd be best to train you here."

Wong bowed his head respectfully. "I'm prepared to learn way of the Dreamer, sensei!"

Smirking, One said, "We'll start simple. Now, you don't need to use your rune hand, the hand with the Anti-ka Maru imprinted on it, to do any of what I'm going to teach you. Still, feel free to do so if it makes you feel better. Now I'm guessing you've already figured out how to manifest your emotions."

"Yup!" Wong held out his hand. With a flash of light, he summoned a glowing beam of energy that took an a shape presumably of some significance to him.

"A rubber chicken?" One raised an eyebrow at the young Dreamer. "That's your Defiance?"

"Yup!" He took a few swings with the dream weapon, the rubber form of the chicken flopping in a very unintimidating way.

Shaking his head, One said, "Fair enough, I suppose. I hear Alan's is a pickaxe. Okay, if you've got that, let's move on. Now watch this."

One held out a hand and created a baseball in his outstretched palm.

"Basic creation," he said, tossing the ball to Wong, "Making something out of nothing. The very idea drives scientists bonkers, but conventional logic has never had much to do with the Dream Realm. All you have to do is focus on what you want to appear and imagine it in your hand. Give it a try."

Wong closed his eyes, and screwed up his forehead. One and Two dove aside just in time to avoid the sudden deluge of baseballs that fell out of the sky.

As Wong poked his head out of the pile, One said, "Okay, you concentrated just a little too hard just then, but good job nonetheless. Anyway, to make 'em disappear, imagine that they're gone."

With a loud 'smack', the balls went flying out of Junction Point in all directions. A few moments later, a chorus of angry shouts came from the city below.

One winced. Glancing at Two's nixil, he asked, "Zilch, would you mind?"

"Sure, man. Zilch ran over to the nearest wall and hopped up on the ledge.

"Sorry!" he shouted, leaning so far over it was a wonder he didn't fall, "New Dreamer!"

Despite the distance, One could just make out someone shouting back something vaguely derisive.

"What?!" Zilch retorted angrily, "You come up here and say that!"

Another vaguely insulting reply came from below. His furry face quite red, Zilch shouted, "You just wait right there!"

Without another word, Zilch leapt over the side of the wall.

One looked over at Two. "He's certainly got spunk."

"A bit plucky, I know, but he can handle himself, trust me." Two shook his head, "Just like me when I was a kid."

Shaking his head, One walked back to Wong. "Okay, new exercise; this time, you make something appear."

"Something?" Wong asked innocently.

One shrugged. "Anything. Make something you want."

Wong held out his hand. After a moment, a single white egg appeared in his hand. Apparently he had some practice at using his Dreamer abilities before being picked up by the Elsewhere Incorporate, much as One had during that business with the Sorceress Ackibar and Teria.

One held a hand to his head, a small ache building as part of another memory resurfaced. It wasn't much, just the knowledge that the necklace and ring had come from the Sorceress Ackibar. The name was familiar in more ways than one; One and Elduran had faced a mage named Ackibar back when Elduran was just on the cusp of adulthood. Still, One was pretty sure it wasn't the same one, given what had happened to Ackibar in the end.

Two nudged One, asking, "Memory surge still buggin' you?"

"I'm fine." One told him. "It's just a little headache, that's all."

Wong held up his egg, saying with obvious glee, "Look! Look! Look! I wanted it, and it appeared, just like magic!"

Two rolled his eyes. "Ooh, an egg. How useful. Just what do you plan to do with that, anyway?"

Without a moment's hesitation, Wong smashed the egg against Two's head. A cloud of confetti burst forth from the egg, spreading across the whole of Junction Point like a big, colorful cloud.

As the confetti began to settle, One was able to make out two shapes struggling. It took a minute or two, but One managed to pry Two's hands from Wong's throat.

No worse for the wear, Wong straightened his shirt and brushed some of the confetti from his pants before looking at One expectantly.

With a wave of One's hand, the confetti vanished from the square. He didn't want to say it in front of Two, but he was rather impressed with the level of control Wong had displayed so far.

"There," One said, dusting off his hands, "Now the next most important skill for a Dreamer is teleportation. To teleport, you just need to choose a focal point; a person, object, or specific place. Just remember; it can be a bit wonky sometime. Crossing realms is kinda tricky, so let's stick to the Dream Realm for now, okay?"

"I'm ready!" Wong said, hopping from foot to foot excitedly.

One nodded. "Good. Tag, you're it!"

With that, the world around One shifted to Bryenton Street, a somewhat shaded neighborhood not too far from Junction Point. One kept a house there, modeled after his home before the Devastation. The suburban home looked oddly mundane between the three-story shell house and the plot of giant mushrooms, but that just made One like his Dream Realm residence all the more.

A plaque by the front door read: "409 Bryenton Street, The Cherry House". One ran his finger along the top idly, as though inspecting it for dust. He hadn't had much opportunity to use the residence of late, though truthfully he only kept the place for the memory. After hundreds of years, his memories of Earth before the Devastation were a bit spotty.

Wong came stumbling out of a nearby bush, Two following suite moments later.

"Nice job." One said, applauding the young Dreamer's success. "And just so you don't think distance figures into this ..."

One had to admit that the next few hours were quite fun. From the citadel of Paena to the middle of the wind-swept Wanderlands, to the very heart of Sanctus (where a group of solicien scientists were very startled by the appearance of not one but three Dreamers), Wong managed to find One every time, though not always at once. That too was an important lesson; just because a person or object is your focus doesn't mean that the teleporting Dreamer would appear right next to them.

In each location, One told Wong more of the Dream Realm. Wong paid rapt attention as One told him of the lingering distrust between the solicien and the nocturi, and of the formation of the Shining Force. He was quite inquisitive regarding the Shining Force, particularly regarding the Circle of Twelve, a group of nixils widely regarded as the most powerful in the Dream Realm. He even clapped with delight after hearing the tale of Wander, a scarecrow who according to legend saved the Dream Realm from the Nightmare Terael.

They ended by returning to Junction Point. By that point, everyone including Wong was fatigued. Even his chicken seemed a bit winded; its feathers were drooping down all over.

Clapping his hands, One said, "Okay, good job Wong. There's more to learn, of course, but you've made a good start. Go get some real sleep, and meet me and Two at the Lobby tomorrow morning, and I'll show you some tips on the whole assignment thing."

Wong nodded sleepily and floated away into the sky on a puffy-white cloud, his chicken resting at his feet.

Two watched as his student flew away into the sky. "Thanks, One. You're a pretty good teacher, you know that?"

"Thanks … I think."

Laughing, Two patted One on the back. "Well, I'd better go check on Zilch. I'll see you tomorrow, buddy."

As Two flew away, One turned back to the fountain. Without the others to distract him, his thoughts returned to his recently returned memories.

"Ackibar, Ackibar." he muttered to himself.

Something about the name seemed strange. The Ackibar from the memory wasn't the same one he had encountered in Longshore, he was sure of it. Still, there was something, some connection he couldn't quite figure out.

The Ackibar he did remember had been a petty mage trying to trap a demon to gain more power. He had kidnapped several young women for sacrificial purposes, including Killer Katy. That was where One had come in; he, Elduran, and the current Cygros of Ircandesta had quite the adventure rescuing the ladies.

To be fair, it was Ackibar's presumption that the ladies were virgins that led to his downfall. It was an odd twist of fate that left One and the others only capable of watching as the demon dragged Ackibar back to whatever nether dimension it called home.

"Hey! Are you listening to me?"

One looked at Nixil for a moment before his brain could process what his nixil had said. "Oh, sorry ... you were saying something"

"Yes, I was! I know you're a Dreamer, but would it kill you to focus a little?"

"Sorry; I had a memory surge earlier."

"I know." Nixil shuddered. "Nasty bit of business."

"You're telling me. I'm still sorting it out. Anyway, you needed something?"

"Just wanted to talk about the new kid. He's got promise." Nixil paused a moment and added, "A bit on the weird side, though. Are you going to tell Two about that patch of pink hair Wong put on the back of his head?"

One snorted. "I'm sure he'll figure it out. As for being weird, you're hardly one to talk."

Nixil's curses followed One into the sky as the Dreamer flew back to his floating island. One curled up beside the tree and watched the clouds and continents float by his island until he fell into the blissful silence of dreamless sleep.

16: Chapter 15 - Back to Work

One awoke the next morning to find himself in one of the bedrooms in the private section of the Matinee, buried beneath a tangle of patchwork quilts and black satin-cased pillows.

He started drifting back off to sleep, murmuring, “I’m sure Two can handle Wong for a few more minutes.”

Without warning, the room's single window suddenly slammed open and flooded the room with brilliant light.

One groaned and covered his head with a thick quilt. “It’s too early to be morning!”

The sun’s rays focused into a single beam and crept through the room. With surprising determination, the beam inched over a small pile of One’s clothes, and up the wooden frame of his bed before finally stopping above One’s covered head.

After a few moments, the sunbeam grabbed the quilt covering One’s head and tossed it aside. As he squinted at the sudden burst of light, the sunbeam slapped him full across the face.

One shielded himself as best he was able, shouting, “Okay, okay! I’m awake!”

As the sunbeam faded, One tried to get out of bed, but only succeeded in further tangling his legs up in his sheets and falling onto the floor with a thud. He muttered something impolite beneath his breath before pushing himself from the floor.

He entered the Lobby a few minutes later via stairwell, still feeling a bit groggy. Two, who was lounging in his chair, snickered at his partner’s appearance over a cup of what smelled strongly of apple cider. Wong was resting his head on the table, drooling ever so slightly. Mom was busily typing at her computer.

She nodded at One, her eyes never leaving her screen. “Good morning, One. Pleasant dreams?”

Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, One muttered, “Yeah, before you woke me up.”

Mom replied evenly, “And if I hadn’t, you’d just sleep in right past your assignment, just like that job you took with Atraius.”

“Yeah, 'cause it's totally my fault that witch hit me with a sleep spell!”

“Excuses, excuses.” Mom replied, waving her hand at One dismissively.

One popped his neck and sighed with relief. As he sat down in his chair at the conference table, Two snapped his fingers and made a cup appear in front of One on the table.

“Thanks, Two.” One picked up the mug and promptly dropped it back on the table.

Two burst out laughing as One blew on his now red fingers.

“It’s hot.” Two said, tossing his buddy an oven mitt.

“Thanks for the warning, jerk.” Taking a sip from his mug, One felt energy seep back into his limbs much more quickly than it would have with his usual coffee. He looked into the deep amber contents of his mug with surprise, asking, “What is this?”

“Crystallic cider.” Two took another sip from his mug before continuing, “Some kind of magical pick-me-up or something from Vinta. It seemed appropriate, considering your assignment. Not bad, huh?”

“Except for the fact I can't use magic.” One with a smirk.

Two laughed as well. “Yeah, but the norms don't know that, do they? If they call it magic, I sure as hell ain't gonna argue.”

One started to take another drink when a nearby door slammed open, revealing the Dreamer known as Fate. Physically, Fate is as pleasant of face and form as her sisters, Luck and Karma. Mentally, she’s a completely different story: where Karma is shy and Luck is flirtatious, Fate is extremely direct. Where Luck is capricious and Karma is kind, Fate is domineering. With her pitch-black hair hanging to her waist, her pallid skin, and morbid taste in clothing, Fate’s sudden appearance can startle the most stalwart Dreamer even when her eyes aren’t literally flaming with anger.

Seeing One suddenly go tense, Two started to ask what was wrong when he saw Fate moving toward them. His face went pale as Fate’s burning eyes locked on to his. She put her arms on the armrests of Two’s chair, trapping him beneath her fiery glare.

One muttered, “Nice knowing you, buddy.”

Flashing an irritated glance at his partner, Two gave Fate his apologetic smile and said, “I had nothing to do with the frogs in your bed, I swear!”

Fate didn’t respond, other than to slowly inch her face closer to his.

Sounding slightly panicked, Two added, “And the catfish-stink bait in your shampoo bottle was One’s idea.”

“Hey!” One protested, but Fate didn’t seem to notice.

She moved closer to Two until there was only about an inch of air between them.

Two gulped. “This is going to hurt, isn’t it?”

Fate’s face split in a wide grin. She kissed Two on his nose and shouted, “Gotcha!”

With a graceful wave of one hand, her clothes changed from the strict black attire to Luck's usual shorts and shirt.

“Oh, thank God!” Two breathed, wiping the sweat from his brow as she ran her hand through her through her hair, changing it from black to blonde.

One let out a laugh. “You know, for a second there, I thought you really were Fate.”

She flashed him a winning smile. “Sis was ranting about Two again, so I thought I’d give him a good scare.”

“Not a bad prank.” Two let out a sigh of relief. “Don’t ever do that again!”

Wong woke up with a snort. “I’ll take ‘Potent Potables’ for four-hundred, Alex!”

“Oh boy.” Two said in a glum voice. “He's awake.”

Wong beamed at Luck. “'Sup, Bubbles. You coming to help with One’s assignment too?”

“You're on an assignment?” Luck asked, sounding surprised. “Again?”

One shook his head, unable to keep the weariness out of his tone as he replied, “Don’t remind me.”

Before One had time to object, Luck sat in his lap and wrapped her arms around him, cooing, “Aww! Poor One! I bet I can make you feel better.” One’s face went from peach to raspberry as Luck hugged his head to her bosom. He waved with his free hand at Two, hoping his partner would take the hint.

Luck toyed with One’s hair, saying with alarming sincerity, “You’re so adorable when you blush.”

Two looked like he was about to explode from his pent up laughter. Shaking his head, he reached out and tapped One’s outstretched hand. Both One and Two vanished instantly, leaving Luck to fall on One’s cushioned armchair, looking slightly put off.

Two and One appeared in the Matinee, the former laughing his head off. One would have been indignant of his partner’s reaction if he had not been grateful for his belated intervention. Two laughed until he had to sit down. For several minutes, he tried in vain to catch his breath.

“It's not funny.” One muttered as he reached for his remote.

Smirking, Two said, “Oh yes it is. Your face, man … priceless.”

Easing his chair into a reclining position, One couldn’t help but sigh.

Reaching for the remote, Two said, “Dude, that girl’s got you marked.”

“She’s almost three-hundred years younger than me.”

“What’s age to a Dreamer? She’s gorgeous and she’s got a serious crush on you. If it were me …” Two chuckled, a hungry look in his eye.

“She’s great and all, but …” One bit his lip, unsure of whether or not to mention running into Teria.

Sighing, Two asked, “This isn't about Ukaroh, is it?”

One snorted at the mention of his last girlfriend. “Get real, Two. I haven’t seen her for decades.”

“Yeah, but I know you two were close. You might be holding out, hoping she’ll come back.”

Chuckling, One said, “She asked me to come with her, and I stayed here. I don’t regret that decision.”

Two sighed exasperatedly, saying, “Well then, what? What could possibly distract you from a drop-dead gorgeous girl who’s about two steps away from just jumping you?”

One hesitated to tell Two. It wasn't that he had a problem with Two knowing; One and Two had been buddies for centuries. Still, while Two had a great many good traits, the ability to keep a secret wasn't one of them.

“I ran into a norm from my past yesterday.” One said eventually, deciding to keep it vague. “We were ... close.”

“How close?” Two asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Like engaged close.”

Two let out a low whistle. “Been there, my friend. Sweet little Riaacan girl made me promise to marry her next time I was around. I said yes just to get her off my back, but I'll be damned if she didn't hunt me down when I stopped by twenty years later.”

“How did you get out of it?” One asked curiously.

“I didn't. Jena was my third wife, lasted around fifty years before she died of some stupid plague. I kinda miss her, to be honest; she was great in the sack.”

Shaking his head, One said, “Thing is, I think I've still got feelings for the girl. I think that's why I've had so much trouble opening up to Luck.”

“And you want 'em both. Nothing wrong with that, One.”

One glowered at Two. “I get the feeling they wouldn't agree.”

Two appeared to think about this for a moment. “Yeah, you're probably right. You'll have to play it carefully.”

“Two!”

“I'm joking! Seriously, though, I'm not sure what to tell you, other than the obvious.”

“Which is ...?”

“Don't piss off the one who lives in the Elsewhere. The norm will pass on eventually; Luck, not so much.”

One didn’t know what to say to that. Instead, he preoccupied himself by trying to reach the small drink cooler next to the couch without getting out of his chair.

After watching One’s feeble efforts for a few moments, Two snorted and made the soda fly out of the fridge and into One’s outstretched hand with a flick of his wrist,. “Always doin’ everything the hard way.”

One took a sip of his drink. His eyes opened wide as the hot sauce he had just drunk began to burn his mouth and throat. Two laughed until One spit the hot sauce straight into Two’s face.

With a shriek, Two made his eyes disappear. Effectively blind (and looking quite strange), he fumbled around for something to wipe the remainder of the hot sauce from his face.

His mouth still feeling as though it had caught on fire, One considered placing something vile in Two’s reach, but decided it would be more fun to just watch.

Two managed to grab a dish towel that was lying conveniently on a nearby table and began cleaning off his face just as One managed to get a hold of a bottle of cold spring water and gulped it down.

Once Two and One had remedied their respective hot sauce problems, they looked at each other and immediately burst out laughing. After a few moments however, they both realized someone else was laughing too. They turned to see Wong standing nearby.

He shook his head and managed to stop guffawing long enough to say, “Two just wiped his face with my sweat rag!”

Two looked at the towel with a horrified expression before tossing it away. He started to pounce on Wong, but One held him back, saying, “Play nice.”

“So,” Wong said, rubbing his hands together, “We’re gonna do stuff in the mainstream today, huh?”

One nodded. “That’s right. We’re going to teach you how to act like a norm.”

Wong pouted. “Why do I need to be trained how to act like a norm? I mean, I was a norm once back in the good old days, and I did just fine!”

“Hang on a sec,” said Two, giving his apprentice a dark look. “I did a little reading up on you; weren’t you banished to the island of Morrow and partially responsible for the collapse of time back in the ‘Good old days’?”

Sulking, Wong plopped down on the couch beside Two. “I fixed it … eventually.”

“Anyway,” One continued, “It’s important to know how to act like a norm for when you leave the Elsewhere.”

“Why would I leave the Elsewhere?” Wong asked, “This place is friggin' awesome!”

“Tell me something I don't know.” Two muttered.

Wong cocked his head to the side. “Alan's middle name starts with a T.”

Two stopped in mid scowl. “Tryth?”

“No, that's his last name.”

Two floundered for a moment before scowling at Wong. “Look, we all have our own reasons. Maybe you’re bored. Maybe Teach or Mom suckered you into one of their ‘assignments’. Maybe life's been good to you, and you feel like giving something back.”

One, regaining his compose, continued, “Whatever the reason, we have to be careful how we manage our abilities among norms.”

“Why?”

Two replied irritably, “Because norms are narrow-minded simpletons who like to point fingers at anything they don’t understand. You go acting weird around them, they’ll probably beat the crap out of you.”

Wong shrugged, saying, “I really don’t see how it’s a problem. I mean, if a norm starts any crap, we can just snap our fingers and BAM! No more problem!” He began shooting things around the room with tiny chalk pellets fired from the tip of his finger, all the while making shooting noises like a ten-year-old cowboy fanatic.

One put a hand to the side of his head. He was beginning to see why Two had trouble with Wong.

Grabbing Wong’s hand to stop him from shooting, Two snapped, “Yeah, and the next time we go into the mainstream, everyone will says, ‘You gotta watch out for Dreamers, they’re a bunch of spastic freaks’. Even though it wouldn’t be much of a change for you, some of us have our reputations to consider.”

One commented, “This from the guy who made up a partner he didn’t have for a scapegoat.”

“Err …” Two suddenly became interested in a nearby bookshelf.

Shaking his head, One told Wong, “Aside from the bad PR, using your abilities like that will get you normed.”

Wong’s eyes glazed over. “Whazzat?”

One thought a moment on how to best explain. “Think of it like this; say that you have a section of your brain that makes you a Dreamer. That section of your brain acts as a fail-safe to keep you from using your powers by gauging the tension between reality and the Dream Realm. Eventually, you get to a point where you can’t use your abilities anymore.”

Two interrupted, “We’ve got to find a better name for that.”

Rolling his eyes, One continued, “Now, each of us accumulates dream energy, both from our time in the Dream Realm and in mainstream reality.”

Wong said, “You’re right.”

One raised a suspicious eyebrow. “About what?”

Turning to Two, Wong said, “We need to think of a better name than ‘Dream energy’. How about ‘Steve’?”

Ignoring Wong’s comment, One continued, “You can also get normed by invoking the Anti-ka Maru.”

“The Unca-ma-what?”

“The Anti-ka Maru.” One repeated, pointing to the rune on the back of his right hand. “It symbolizes power over reality. If you invoke it, you can cause a small merge between the Mainstream and the Dream Realm.”

“The Anti-ka Maru, huh? Oh!” With a yelp, Wong leapt behind the couch.

Rolling his eyes, Two told Wong, “Relax; saying the words isn’t enough. You have to be in a situation where you need it. Even then, you really have to focus to activate it.”

One continued, “When you invoke the Anti-ka Maru, you’ll be temporarily infused with a massive amount of Dream energy, more than enough to do whatever it is you need to do.”

Wong asked, “What happens then?”

Two used his hands to mimic a plane crash.

Wong clapped his hands together. “We play charades? I love charades!”

Cuffing his protégé on the back of his head, Two snapped, “No, you moron! You get normed!”

“It’s like overheating a car,” explained One, “you have to stop and let it cool down before using it again. Until then, you’ll have to rely on your personal skills to get yourself out of trouble.”

“But if I’ve invoked the Anti-ka Maru, won’t I have just gotten myself out of trouble?” asked Wong.

“You'd think so, wouldn't you?” Two looked over at One with a smirk. One, who had been normed many times, glared back in reply.

“Tell you what,” One said, “Before we start your training, I’ve got a list of stuff … er, special items that I need for my assignment.”

Two looked at One as if he had started spouting poetry. “What the hell are you talking ab-”

One elbowed him in the ribs, muttering, “Just play along!”

In his normal tone, he continued, “I was going to have to find these things myself, but I figured it would make an excellent training venture for you.”

One made a blank piece of paper appear with a wave of his hand. As he began to list off items that he knew didn’t exist, the words appeared on the paper. “Let’s see: the hair of an alligator, some powdered hen’s teeth, the toenail clippings of a yeti, the scales of the Loch Ness Monster, the egg of a rooster, a live bandersnatch and …”

One tried to think of the most hopelessly lost thing to send Wong for when his gaze fell upon his partner. “And Two’s virginity.”

Two punched One in the arm, his face red. “Hey!”

One materialized a brown bag and tossed it to Wong, saying, “This is a special bandersnatch bag. It’s important that you have the right bag you know.”

Wong accepted the bag. “Will I need a special storage container for Two’s virginity, or will any old bag do?”

Two took a swipe at Wong, but the newest Dreamer was much too fast for him. Hoisting the bandersnatch bag on his shoulder, Wong saluted and said gleefully, “I’ll be back in time for tea! Cheerio, chaps!”

Wong disappeared with a loud rooster crow.

One wiped his hands together, saying, “That should take care of him for a while.”

Two crossed his arms against his chest and refused to look at him.

One snorted and clapped his partner on the shoulder. “Oh, come off it, Two! It was just a joke!”

Two asked, a slightly hurt tone in his voice, “Now how do you know that I don’t still have my virginity intact?”

One stared at him a moment before bursting into laughter.

“No need to be insulting about it.” muttered Two, glowering at his partner.

17: Chapter 16 - A City in the Trees

Mikaen awoke the next morning with the sound of birdsong in his ears and the midday sun shining through the window of his room, the memories of the previous night’s dream lingering in his mind.

He had been in the clearing where he had first arrived on Vinta. Tirinia was there too; he could see her clearly, from her amethyst eyes, to the star-shaped patch of white fur on her forehead. They had talked for what felt like hours, talking about their pasts, their likes, their fears, and so much more. The rational part of Mikaen’s mind told him it was all just a dream, but there was just too much clarity for him to just write it off as a figment of his imagination.

There were too many little things: her favorite place to nap when she was skiving off, the three songs that always made her want to dance when she heard them playing, the small scar below her right knee from the first time she entered the Longshore Melee, and even her secret wish to dye her hair light blue.

He had been no less forthcoming. He told her about waking up in Bridges, about his life with the Knights of the Star, and even a little about Maria. The thought to not tell her hadn’t even occurred to him; if anything, he found himself wanting her to know.

He was just about to drift back asleep again (secretly hoping that Tirinia was still waiting on the other side of consciousness) when someone nearby started whistling jauntily. Groaning, Mikaen pulled the blanket over his head and rolled over.

The door to his room opened, banging slightly against the wall as Jeronem strode through the doorway with a smile. “Good Morning Mikaen!”

Sitting up, Mikaen replied dourly, “You're awfully chipper today.”

Jeronem turned away as Mikaen rose and got dressed for the day. “I had the strangest dream about a large chicken, something that looked a little like a sourian, and a weird blue thing with wings.”

“Huh. That is strange.” Mikaen hopped out of his bed and reached for his shirt, secretly hoping that Jeronem had forgotten about his little rendezvous with Tirinia.

“So what about this tigreth girl, huh?”

“Damn.”

“Pardon?”

Sighing, Mikaen said, “Look, I accidentally wandered into the lake while she was taking a bath. She was … less than happy.”

Jeronem let out a laugh. “I’ll bet. Still, you’re still in one piece, so I’m guessing you calmed her down.”

“Er, yeah.” Mikaen tried his best to avoid thinking about the outcome of the fight. Unfortunately, trying not to think about it just brought it to the forefront of his thoughts.

Jeronem’s jaw dropped. “What?!”

Blushing, Mikaen said, “Look, just drop it, okay?”

“But-”

Mikaen grabbed his belt and quickly left the room and the portable cabin. Jeronem followed moments later, pausing only to absorb the construct back into his staff.

Much to Mikaen's annoyance, Jeronem didn't let it drop. Mikaen tried to ignore him, but after hours of continual pestering, Mikaen eventually caved in and told his young friend about the encounter in greater detail. Jeronem listened in silence until Mikaen finished telling him how he disarmed the tigreth woman and pinned her to the ground.

“Wow! You beat a tigreth warrior, a princess none-the-less.”

Putting a hand on his hip, Mikaen asked, “Now how do you know she's a princess?”

“You just said so.”

“Wha … no I didn't!”

“Yes you did! Just a second ago!”

“I didn't say she was a princess,” Mikaen snapped, “I said she was a Daughter of the tigreth!”

It took a moment for Mikaen to realize what he had just said. “How did I know that?”

A mischievous smile spread across Jeronem's face. “What's her name?”

“Tirinia Aerith Myssohn.” Mikaen replied instantly, much to his own surprise.

Laughing, Jeronem slapped his knee. “I knew it! You're bonded with her!”

Mikaen glared down at his diminutive companion. “Tell me what you’re babbling about, or I'm going to tie you up on the nearest branch by your tail and spin you like a top.”

“Gotta catch me first!” With that, Jeronem broke into a run.

Mikaen grumbled something unintelligible beneath his breath before following suite. As he rushed around a thick cluster of bushes, he saw Jeronem running between two trees marked with an unfamiliar symbol. About mid-way through, the young vuestan vanished with a flash of light.

Mikaen, just seconds behind him, had no time to react. A brief burst of light blinded him for a moment, and when he could see again, he was standing on a platform overlooking the city of Muonsol.

Elduran taught Mikaen a bit of idestan history. Centuries before Mikaen's arrival, back when the mad Emperor Calliban tried to conquer the world, the idestan found themselves near the top of the list of potential targets as Ircandesta shared a border with Ronisgald. They called out to their vuestan and Rimstakken friends for aid in their time of need, and they weren't disappointed.

The Rimstakken used their machines to build giant platforms in the treetops, the vuestan moving in behind them to transport the buildings of idestan society and form interconnecting bridges throughout the city. It was hurried work, especially for the vuestan who had to prepare their own country for the frontal assault of the Galden army. Their hard work paid off, however; in less than a week's time, Muonsol was safely hidden away in the dense upper limbs of the forest.

After peace had descended upon Vinta, some idestan moved to other areas of the forest to build similar communities. Most, however, remained in the city, where they continued to expand until Muonsol was the wonder that was currently taking Mikaen’s breath away.

As impressive as the web-work of bridges that spanned the town and the elaborate buildings carefully crafted around the trees were, they were insignificant compared to the wonder that was Muonsol Palace. It hung in the distance like a magnificent glass ornament, higher than any other building or tree in the city. Shining crystal walls merged with the boughs of the ancient tree in which the palace had been built, a perfect joining of technology, structure, and nature.

Mikaen stared across the city for what felt like hours before it occurred to him that he had no idea where to go without Jeronem. Still, the guards posted on the platform were beginning to stare curiously at the knight, so he decided to figure it out on the move. He walked slowly down the lone bridge leading from the entrance platform, keeping his eyes open for any kind of map or sign that might indicate the location of the Center of Knowledge.

The bridge interconnected with several others; soon, there was a small group of idestan walking nearby, including two young couples, and an elderly gentleman walking with a little girl. Most of them gave Mikaen strange looks, much to the knight’s discomfort. He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised; he was in full armor that seemed all the more archaic when there were flying cars passing overhead.

Mikaen changed to a bridge with less traffic as soon as he could. After a few minutes, however, he realized that the old man with the little girl was still following him. He switched to another adjoining bridge, only to find the pair still behind him. Even more disconcerting, the little girl ran forward and started walking right beside him. Little more than two feet away from him, the little girl stared at Mikaen with an intensity that was more than just a bit unsettling.

After a few minutes, he glanced at her. “Can I help you, ma’am?” He asked pointedly.

“Are you a Knight?”

The question threw him off-guard. How could this child possibly know about the Knights of the Star? No, he reasoned, there must be some other order native to Vinta.

“I am a Knight, but I’m not from around here.” He told her.

She grinned. “You’re from another planet, aren’t you?”

Mikaen stopped and stared. “Now how would you know that? I don’t see any fur on your ears.”

She giggled. “Silly! I’m not vuestan. I’m Meryl.”

Smiling despite the strangeness of the situation, Mikaen gave the girl a small bow. “Sir Mikaen of the Knights of the Star, at your service.”

She gave a little curtsy before running back down the bridge, where the elderly gentleman was waiting for her. They soon disappeared into a crowd of idestan, leaving Mikaen scratching his head. Shaking his head, he continued walking.

From the look of it, the platform ahead of him was some kind of housing complex. The buildings looked much like those he was accustomed to back on Earth; wood siding, slate roofing tiles, even a decorative weather vane here and there. The only difference was that here, they were built into the trees.

The level of technology caught him off-guard; after spending so much time in Homestead, Mikaen had begun to feel that the world of Vinta wasn’t as technologically advanced as Earth. Sure, they had a few unique devices such as the VTS and the airships, but they seemed more mystical in nature than mechanical.

Homestead was obviously the exception rather than the rule; floaters practically filled the sky, every road and bridge was lined with artificial lights, and lit billboards and neon advertisements were fairly common, particularly as Mikaen wandered into the more commercial parts of the city.

Many people carried communication devices; some Mikaen recognized: cellphones (or some variant thereof, Mikaen reasoned), wireless earpieces, headsets, and even a few arm-mounted computers. The headsets with the holo-displays were new to him, as were the cybernetic eyes that glowed brightly when in use. As far as Mikaen knew, that kind of cybertechnology hadn't existed on Earth even before the Devastation.

During his wanderings around Muonsol, Mikaen came across a few strange booths, usually installed at the very center of a district. There was something about the technology that seemed oddly out of place with the rest of the city, as though it had been transplanted from somewhere else. No one seemed to be using the booths, so when he eventually came across a booth that looked to be under repair by a short woman with tools strapped across her body, he decided to stop and ask.

“Pardon me, Miss,” Mikaen asked, “but what exactly is this?”

The woman turned around, saying, “What are you having said, youngster?”

Mikaen was momentarily taken aback by the thick visor that covered the top half of her head. “Uh, I was curious about this device.”

What was visible of her walnut-brown face broke into a wide white-toothed grin. “I am being glad you are of askance!”

She pulled off her visor, revealing that her skin wasn't naturally tanned; the skin around her eyes was quite pale, giving her a rather raccoon-like appearance.

She stepped back and proudly patted the side of the machine, saying, “Ah, you are in admiration of my waypoint station, eh? I've been installation progressing them up throughout the entirety of the city for the previous month-span. This is gladly to me one of the last to have been assembled.”

Once Mikaen figured out what the woman had said, he asked, “What exactly do they do?”

The woman began to literally hop up and down with excitement. “Oh, I'm having so much gladness that you inquired. Now, as is the common knowledge, the most quickly way between two points in the space-time continuum-”

Mikaen cut him off, saying, “If anyone knows what teleportation is, it's me. Is this a short or long range teleporter?”

The woman seemed pleased with the question despite the interruption. “Even more impressive than that. Each one and every one of these constructed Waypoint stations throughout the entirety of the city can teleport the user to any other waypoint station.”

“Quick transport throughout the city, huh? Not a bad idea in a place this big.” Glancing back at the woman, Mikaen asked, “I don't suppose you installed one of these near the Center of Knowledge?”

She gave him an impish grin before turning to the machine. “Waypoint station 45, activate.”

The machine did not respond until the man gave it a quick kick.

Coming to life with a slight stutter, the machine said, “P-please select destination.”

A miniature holographic representation of the city appeared on a console inside the pod. The hologram had dozens of small glowing dots on it, presumably indicating the position of the other waypoint stations.

“When one is having become ready, one simply has to contact any of the glowing points on the facsimile of the city.” The woman told him, pushing him into the booth. “The Center of Knowledge is right there.”

Mikaen tapped the console where the woman indicated. The teleportation pod emitted a pleasant humming sound. “Teleportation matrix assembled. Please step inside.”

He glanced back at the woman, who gave him a reassuring thumbs-up.

“Here goes nothing.” Mikaen reached forward and tapped the image of the Center of Knowledge.

The world suddenly became a glistening display of color whirling around his eyes. It was much different than the teleportation field that brought him to the city; that was almost instantaneous, whereas this was more like being stuck on a merry-go-round spinning wildly out of control.

When the nauseating swirl finally stopped, Mikaen found himself staring at the back of a waypoint station. A hurried check found that his head was on fine; the device had simply teleported him backwards.

When he turned around, Mikaen found himself standing in front of a magnificent tower of stone and glass. Unlike the rest of the city, the tower was not built around or in a tree; rather, a series of trees had grown around the tower. Many smaller towers hung in the air around the central tower, some simply floating in the air while others were attached by complicated-looking machinery. All of the smaller towers encircled a large courtyard in front of the main entrance of the main tower. A statue of a robed figure stood in the center of the courtyard, a glowing crystal in one hand and a large metal cog in the other.

Mikaen stepped from the pad just in time to bump into Jeronem.

The young vuestan staggered back, a surprised look on his face. “By the Creator! How did you get ahead of me so fast?”

Mikaen gestured to the device behind him, “A woman sent me here through this thing.”

Jeronem looked impressed. “I don’t think I’d have trusted my flux to a Rimstakken machine.”

Mikaen knew little about the Rimstakken, other than that their society was considered the pinnacle of technological development. According to Elduran, however, their technology was highly experimental and a more than a little unpredictable at times. Mikaen glanced back at the teleport pod, wondering just how much of a risk he had just taken.

Jeronem grinned at him. “Hey, you're here, aren't you?”

“Yeah, I guess I am. Oh, that reminds me.”

Jeronem yelped as Mikaen lifted the young vuestan by his tail. “I think we need to finish our talk about Tirinia.”

With nimbleness that caught Mikaen off-guard, Jeronem kicked off the knight's armored chest, landed lightly on the ground, and ran full tilt at the Center of Knowledge.

“Just like having a brother.” He muttered with a grin before hurrying after Jeronem.

18: Chapter 17 - The Center of Knowledge

The Centers of Knowledge are more than simple schools; they serve as universities, research centers, and even provide a certain amount of public services for the country in which each is established. All Centers have facilities for both magical studies and technological development, but most favor one or the other. The Center in Muonsol favored magic; though it was home to a fairly robust technology department, the school as a whole offered much more to the aspiring mage than it did to young gadgeteers.

Jeronem and Mikaen raced through halls that smelt heavily of potion reagents and musty old books. As he gave chase, Mikaen caught a glimpse of some of the labels on the classroom doors: ‘Elements of Energism’, ‘Studies of Streaming’, ‘Witchcraft: Basic Potion Brewing’, and more.

A loud ring resounded through the halls, startling Mikaen from his thoughts. Almost immediately, every doorway in the hall slammed open, each practically expelling a torrent of people both young and old. In moments, the hallway was flooded with students and teachers, effectively blocking Jeronem from view.

Mikaen, scourge of the Revs and hero of Homestead, found himself struggling in vain against the relentless flow of students. The sudden noise was more jarring than the sudden appearance of the throng; silence had given way to hundreds of loud conversations, each trying to be heard over the din.

After a few moments of trying to force his way through the crowded hallway, Mikaen gave up his pursuit and ducked into the nearest open classroom. Silence once again descended as he shut the door behind him, prompting him to give a sigh of relief.

“Quiet!” A female idestan with a pinched face shot an annoyed glare at Mikaen for a long moment before turning to the only other person in the room, a young Galden child who was pointing a wand at a table floating in mid-air.

“That's right, Daniel,” she coaxed, “Now let it down slowly.”

Sweat dripping down his face, the child motioned the table down with a little too much emphasis. The table hit the floor with a loud crash that made all three of them jump.

The teacher spun around to face Mikaen. “See what you did?”

“I didn't mean-”

“Daniel has a hard enough time concentrating on his spell work without distractions! He stayed after class so he could have half a chance to pass his levitation test, but you just had to screw it up!”

Daniel hung his head and said something to the teacher that Mikaen didn't quite catch.

The teacher sighed, saying, “It's okay. We'll try again tomorrow, Daniel.”

Nodding silently, Daniel gathered his books and headed toward the door. Just before he left, he looked at Mikaen intently. He didn’t seem angry; the look on the boy’s face was more curious than anything.

As the door closed, the teacher waved a wand at the table. As the splintered halves of the table reassembled, she asked irritably, “Is there something you want?”

“I’m trying to find the Seed's office.”

“Well, I'm afraid I can't help you.”

Raising an eyebrow, Mikaen asked, “Why not?”

The teacher sat down at her desk. “Look, Mister …?”

“Mikaen will be fine.”

“Mister Mikaen, I can tell you aren't a resident of the Center, so I can't expect you to understand the intricacies of the way the Center of Knowledge. To put it in a way your unenlightened mind can comprehend, Trystan only sees people who he wants to see. Therefore, if he wanted to see you, you'd already be seeing him.”

Looking down at her books, she said, “Good day.”

“But …” Mikaen said before he thought better of it. With an exasperated sigh, he left the room, making a point to slam the door behind him.

Daniel was standing just outside the room, staring down at his shoes silently. After waiting a moment to see if the boy wanted to say something, Mikaen walked away, feeling strangely unsettled. He hadn't gone more than a couple of steps when he realized that the boy was following him.

“Probably heading the same way,” Mikaen reasoned. Nevertheless, he quickened his step.

Reaching a fork in the hallways, Mikaen stopped a moment to consider when he felt something tugging at the edge of his shirt. He turned to see the young boy's intense eyes staring up at him.

Sighing, Mikaen began, “Look Daniel, I'm sorry I messed up your test.”

“You want to see the Seed?”

Mikaen’s eyes widened. Kneeling do beside the lad, He asked eagerly, “You know where he is?”

The boy motioned for him to follow. He led Mikaen through the winding halls of the Center, passing through several secret passageways cleverly concealed through a mixture of optical illusions and enchantments. It soon became clear that the teacher had not been joking; Mikaen would never have found the way on his own.

Mikaen and Daniel entered a curving hallway with no decoration or windows, save the ceiling lights that served as illumination. After about five minutes, Mikaen realized that they were going in a continuous circle.

“Hey, wait a second.” he said, stopping instantly.

The boy turned and stared at him questioningly.

Trying to ignore Daniel's wide, soulful eyes, Mikaen asked, “Why are we going in circles?”

Daniel didn't reply, but deep, jovial laugh suddenly filled the air.

“Very good, Sir Mikaen! It took my last guest well over an hour to realize that she wasn’t getting anywhere.”

“Begging your pardon,” Mikaen said, looking around for the source of the voice, “But where are you?”

A well polished wooden door with a shiny silver handle appeared before Mikaen's eyes. Somewhat hesitantly, he reached for the handle and pushed open the door to the Seed's office.

It was a great deal less organized than Mikaen had been expecting. Books were everywhere; piled on the table, crammed into every shelf lining the walls, and even stuffed into the open visor of a large suit of armor that stood in the corner of the room. Potions and vials of all hues were scattered about a makeshift alembic in one corner of the room. There was a target on the right wall practically covered with scorch marks, thorns, and crystalline shards.

The room was much larger on the inside than the outer hallway would have suggested, but that didn't surprise Mikaen. The Knights had been experimenting with creating small pocket dimensions as well, though Vinta's magic community obviously had found more success with it. In the center of everything was a large desk covered with what appeared to be various magical artifacts, save for a small space with an open notebook.

The Seed rose from his chair and in just three strides had reached the two of them. Ignoring Mikaen for the moment, the Seed lifted Daniel and gave him a massive hug.

Mikaen could only stare; the Seed was a giant of a man, easily eight feet tall and built like a bear. A mass of wild black hair hung down his back in one thick braid, and glowing sigils were visible on his muscular arms. More than anything, however, he looked younger than Mikaen had expected, appearing far closer to Mikaen's age than to the wizened old wizard the knight previously imagined.

Setting Daniel back down, Trystan asked, “So, how is my favorite grandson doing?”

Daniel's face split into a grin very reminiscent of his grandfather.

Turning to Mikaen, Trystan said, “He's my youngest grandson. Same age as my youngest daughter, actually.”

“Indeed.” Mikaen wasn't quite sure what else to say.

Trystan let out a booming laugh, and clapped Mikaen on the shoulder hard enough to knock the breath out of him. “And you must be Mikaen! Have a seat, my young friend! Oh, you can just toss the books anywhere.”

As Mikaen dropped Elduran’s pack by the suit of armor and staggered to a chair, Trystan knelt down beside Daniel and bent his head low so that he could speak face to face. “That just leaves Jeronem. Danny, could you go find Elduran's son and show him to the testing facility? He's wandering around the library right now, and I promised Elduran that I'd make sure he wasn't late for his testing.”

Daniel bowed his head and hurried off.

Trystan sighed as the door closed. As he walked back to his seat, he said, “Ah, kids. They're so cute at that age. Oh, can I get you something to drink?”

Mikaen shook his head, still having trouble catching his breath. Despite his answer, a tall glass of amber liquid appeared before him.

Sitting back down, Trystan said, “Drink up. I need to check on something real quick.”

As the Seed began thumbing through the book on his desk, Mikaen picked up his drink and took a sip. As he set the glass down, he could feel stream energy thrumming at his fingertips.

“Like it?” The Seed asked.

Mikaen nodded. “What is it?”

“Crystallic cider. Crystallic forms in areas with heavy stream concentration, usually where there’s a lot of stream-based technology. The crystals dissolve instantly when they contact the tongue. Different colors taste different, but they all enhance the consumer's lifestream energy. They've been harder to find since the mines in Ronisgald shut down, but I keep a few bottles of the good stuff on hand for special occasions.”

“Thanks,” Mikaen replied, “though I don't know how special I am.”

Trystan chuckled. “Despite what you may have heard, we don't get many off-worlders on Vinta. The Galden and Rimstakken space programs have visited a number of worlds both here and in our neighboring star systems, but they've yet to find another world with intelligent life. Ah, here we go.”

Trystan set the open book down on his desk. “Elduran told me your story, and as impossible as it seems, I believe him. Now, I have a few questions for you Mikaen, if you don’t object.”

Mikaen shook his head. “Of course not. Ask away.”

Looking at the book, Trystan asked, “You have no memory prior to the event you know as the Devastation, correct?”

“That’s right,” answered Mikaen, “My first memory is waking up at the rip in Bridges.”

“But you must have existed before then … or did you wake up as an infant?”

Mikaen shook his head. “No, it was only two years ago. Syrin told me that the constant flow of lifestream from the rip kept me in suspended animation. I don't remember anything from before then.”

“I’m assuming you’ve tried to awaken these lost memories and failed.”

“I had a psionic back home try to find out about my past. She told me that I had no memories, hidden or otherwise prior to my awakening. If I did before, they were wiped clean.”

“That never bothered you?”

“Not really. With Earth the way it is, survival's been more important than finding out who I might have been before the Devastation.” Mikaen paused for a moment before adding, “I wonder every now and then, but given the state of Bridges, I doubt I've any living relatives left.”

“I see.” Trystan said, nodding, “Have you experienced any back pains lately?”

“I’ve had back problems since before I came here. I just presumed it was work related. Do relay missions in the Rocky Mountains long enough and it’ll happen to you too.”

“Has it been getting worse?”

The questions were starting to worry Mikaen. Was something wrong with him?

Doing his best to hide his growing anxiety, Mikaen answered, “Yes, but I don’t have the pains very often.”

“Good to hear that.” Trystan gestured at Mikaen’s head. “Has your hair always been like that?”

Mikaen’s hand brushed across his hair. “Is my hair sticking up?”

Trystan laughed. “No, I mean the color. Has your hair always been white at the tips?”

Crossing his arms, Mikaen asked, “No, it started doing that a few months before I arrived here. What exactly are you getting at?”

Trystan stared at Mikaen for a long moment before saying, “There are three ways a portal could've brought you here: One, a sentient created a portal to your world which you happened to fall through. That’s not likely though, since a sentient would have to have been to your world before creating a portal. Two, you were a victim of a random magical fluctuation on your world. I don’t think that’s it either; a magical flux-created portal could have easily brought you literally anywhere on or even in the planet … into the Myriad Abyss, for example, or into the middle of the Cleftan Region.”

“And three?”

Trystan gave him a somber look. “A sentient created a portal not to, but from your world.”

“You mean a sentient on Earth sent me here deliberately?” Mikaen asked, feeling a bit bewildered.

Trystan stared at Mikaen for a long moment. “Okay, let's try this in a different manner. Your hair fades to white at the tips, you're experiencing odd back pains that started fairly recently, and your eyes change color according to your mood.”

“My eyes change color?”

Trystan held out a small mirror. Sure enough, Mikaen’s eyes were a brilliant orange. He never thought much about the color of his eyes, but he was sure Maria had once told him that they were brown.

That is when the last piece clicked into place. Mikaen's jaw dropped as the realization of Trystan's implication fully hit him.

“You think I'm a sentient?” He blurted out.

Trystan nodded, a satisfied look on his face. “Ah, now he gets it.”

19: Chapter 18 - Tests

“Question 531: Do you occasionally have the urge to inflict violence on other living beings for pleasure?”

“I'm getting there.” Mikaen muttered.

The nurse glanced up from her desk questioningly.

Grimacing, Mikaen shook his head. “Just talking to myself. Sorry if I disturbed you.”

Returning his gaze to the clipboard, continued the truly herculean task of checking little boxes on mashed up bits of dead trees. He had just about reached the end of the stack when another nurse came over with an armload of paper.

Huffing from the exertion, she said, “Here's the last set. I'll stop back and check up on you after I take a break.”

Mikaen stared at the stack of papers as though it had personally insulted him. He could stand the blood work and the physical exam, but the only thing this ‘yes’ or ‘no’ questionnaire was testing was his patience.

“Question 832: Do you believe in a supreme deity?”

“I did until questions seven-hundred and five.”

The head nurse looked up from her paperwork with a frown.

“Sorry.”

Mikaen looked down at the question again. It was hard not to get sarcastic after over so many questions, especially given the fact that the only options were ‘yes’ and ‘no’. With a sigh, he checked the box labeled 'yes' and continued on to the next question.

“Question 833: Do you think there's really a point to all this ‘yes or no’ bull-crap?”

Mikaen stared at the question. “What the …?”

The nurse glared at him again and put a finger to her lips.

Looking back down at the paper, Mikaen nearly leaped out of his seat when the letters merged together to create a picture that was unmistakably Narrator Number One.

“Sorry to interrupt,” A little text bubble above his head read, “but you look like you could use a break.”

Glancing up to make sure the nurse wasn't watching, Mikaen whispered, “What are you doing in there?”

One shrugged, the text box above him reading, “I was kinda bored, and wanted to see what you were up to.”

The Dreamer looked distastefully at the question below him, reading aloud, “Have you ever engaged in sexual intercourse with a non-sapient species? Who the hell writes this crap?” With a leap, One stomped on the ‘no’ box, filling it completely with ink.

“Hey!” Mikaen objected.

One looked up at him questioningly. “I'm sorry; did I answer that one wrong?”

Blushing, Mikaen shook his head.

One sat down on the next question and started absently kicking the period with his foot. “I had to take this test once. Halfway through I just started just picking answers randomly. I wouldn't recommend that, by the way.”

“Look, One,” Mikaen whispered, “I'm grateful that you want to help me out, but if I don't get to work on this.”

“Oh, well go right ahead. I'll be quiet.”

One hopped off question 835 and sat down on the end of the sentence.

Mikaen tried to continue the questionnaire, but it was disconcerting to see One watching him out of the corner of his eyes, especially given the nature of the questions being asked.

When Mikaen reached the last question on the page, One coughed gently and asked, “So, what did you think of Tirinia?”

Mikaen's eyes narrowed. “Now how do you know about that?”

“I’m a Dreamer, dude. I've been keeping tabs on you.”

Mikaen continued to look at One suspiciously.

Sighing, One said, “Fine, so I might have switched her anti-thrall medication out, but it was only a matter of time before you two met anyway. She’s one of the representatives for the Council, y’know.”

“Jeronem said that if I would have to marry her since I kissed her. Is that true?”

One shook his head, saying, “From a cultural standpoint, no. There's no law or rule about that kind of thing, so I wouldn’t worry about it just yet.”

“You didn't answer my question.”

One grinned. “So you do like her, eh? I knew you would. She likes you too, y'know.”

Crossing his arms, Mikaen said, “I'm waiting.”

The nurse glanced up at him, asked, “Who are you talking to?”

With a final glare at One, Mikaen turned the page toward the nurse.

“Oh, you've finished.”

As the nurse rose from her desk and moved to collect the papers, Mikaen realized he was holding the last page. The rest of the pages had been neatly stacked beside him. He turned over a few pages to see that every question had been answered. They were, in fact, answered as he would have answered them.

He looked back up at the nurse at a loss for explanation. The nurse raised an eyebrow at him, a wary expression on her face.

Tossing the paper on top of the stack, Mikaen muttered, “Never mind.”

A student aide led him to a fairly uninteresting room, where he ate a fairly uninteresting meal before he lay down for bed. It had been a long day, even with One’s help filling out the quizzes, and Mikaen felt exhausted.

It felt that he scarcely had time to close his eyes before he was awoken by a loud knock. Peering out from under his pillow, he was startled to see that it was already morning.

Still feeling exhausted, he begrudgingly sat up in bed and called out, “It’s open!”

Jeronem’s grinning face poked through the doorway. “Good morning, Mikaen!”

Mikaen yawned. “Morning. How’d you do on the exam?”

“I passed with flying colors ... literally! How’d your day go?”

“Besides being treated like some kind of bizarre experimental specimen, it went just peachy.”

Jeronem tossed Mikaen his shirt. “Yeah, I heard about the whole sentient thing. Pretty awesome!”

“If it’s true.” Yawning again, Mikaen slipped his feet into his tek-boots and started fastening the clamps. “So, what’s on the agenda for today?”

Jeronem pointed out the window to the palace. “We gotta go check in with the Cygros.”

“Do we need to tell Trystan we’re leaving?” Mikaen asked.

“Bah! We won't be gone that long. Come on!”

Several minutes later, Mikaen and Jeronem exited the Center of Knowledge and made a beeline for Muonsol Palace. Stores in the mall were in the process of opening, clerks and sales workers preparing to begin another day as Mikaen and Jeronem continued on their path.

Again, Mikaen was surprised at the level of technology. Floaters raced along the streets and bridges, and Mikaen noticed several idestan communicating with holographic communication devices. He wanted to stop and look around some more but he was already having trouble keeping sight of Jeronem in the growing throng of people.

As they walked, Mikaen gestured around the square as what looked to be a small band began to set up in a nearby pavilion. “Say, Jeronem, why isn’t there any of this technology in Homestead?”

“Too much tech screws with magic and vice versa.”

“I used magic around high-tech areas on Earth.”

“Yeah, but Earth doesn't use stream-based tech. Here, we've got the machines using the same energy as magic, which can cause problems.”

““Like?”

Jeronem considered this for a moment. “Well, explosions are the most obvious; stream-tech tends to produce crystallic as a by-product, and that stuff will ignite at just a sniff of magic.”

“You mean one spell, and a floater could go up in smoke?” Mikaen glanced at the flying vehicles with a touch of apprehension.

“Don't worry so much! It'd only happen if the owner's been skimping on maintenance. Besides, the bits that form crystallic are inside; you'd have to hit a floater pretty hard to ignite it.”

They passed from the more commercial areas of Wenapaj and walked down the long bridge that lead to Muonsol Palace. It was a magnificent structure even in the daylight; shimmering crystal merging so seamlessly with the ancient trees that it was impossible to see where one ended and the other began. There was a small platform halfway across the bridge, where two guards stood watch.

One of them stopped Mikaen, asking, “What business do you have in the palace?”

Unable to keep a touch of pride from his voice, Mikaen said, “We’re here to represent Homestead in the Council.”

“We?” The guard asked, a smirk on his face.

Mikaen turned to find his young friend was gone. Looking back the way they had come, he muttered, “He was with me a moment ago.”

“I’m sure he was, sir.” The guard gave his partner a wink. “Well sir, you’re a day early to attend the Council. Perhaps you should wait until your friend finds you missing.”

“Perhaps you would be nice enough to go ask him about it.” Mikaen gave the guard a pointed glare.

The guard said, “I’d love to, but it’s time for our coffee break.”

“Then why are you bothering me?” Mikaen started forward only to be pushed back.

Now stern-faced, the guard snapped, “Look, we ain't buying it, so why don't you go back the way you came like a good little Galden before we have to get rough?”

That clenched it. “I promised Elduran I’d go in his place to the Council. I’d appreciate it if I didn’t have to go through both of you to make good on my promise, so MOVE!”

With a swift hand movement, Mikaen channeled a gust of wind that knocked the two guards off the bridge and into the safety nets below. Mikaen cut the rope ladder with Truth as he passed. Whistling a cheery tune, he continued toward the huge doors that served as the palace’s main entrance. As he approached, his attention was distracted by an angry-sounding potted plant. He walked over to the ornate flowerpot and tugged on a wavy blonde tail until Jeronem emerged from the pot, covered head to toe to tail with dirt.

Once back on his feet, the young vuestan wasted no time in running over to the door and kicking it hard enough to make Mikaen’s foot hurt.

“I see you got the same welcome as I did.” Mikaen said.

Jeronem proceeded to mentally shout some inappropriate yet highly descriptive words regarding the guards’ relationships with certain farm animals while clutching his injured foot, hopping up and down on the other. From what Mikaen could tell, the guards inside had planted him in the pot before slamming the gate shut on him.

“Friendly lot around here.” Mikaen glanced back at the bridge in time to see the guards climbing on the far platform via hanging vines from a nearby tree. “The palace goons are a bit quicker here than the Revs back home.”

To Jeronem, he said, “Do you have any ideas about getting inside before they get here? That is, unless you’d rather just continue attacking the door.”

Jeronem looked at Mikaen, and then looked down the bridge at the approaching figures of the guards, his tail lashing. “Let’s thrash ‘em!”

Mikaen grabbed Jeronem by the tail before the young vuestan could rush forward. “Hold on a sec, scrappy. Before you start waging war, let’s focus on getting inside so we can talk to the Cygros. When we get inside, we’ll mention this little incident to him.”

“But how? Those doors must weigh a ton!”

Magic wasn't an option, as the doors swung outward. Even if he could summon a gust of wind from within the palace, the doors were massive and undoubtedly heavy enough to absorb more that Mikaen could dish out. He considered using Truth to force it open, but decided against it; even if there wasn't some kind of inside latch, he was far more likely to damage his weapon.

Turning to Jeronem, he asked, “Any helpful spells?”

“Well, I had one. A really good one: made a big spectral hand that could go through walls and grab stuff. It came in really handy yesterday during my exams. I probably should have put it back in my staff.”

“I was afraid of that.” Sighing, Mikaen looked above the doorway for the nearest entry.

A few small windows adorned the crystalline walls, but what caught his attention was a large balcony directly above them.

“Looks like at least a hundred feet.” Mikaen muttered. “Three seconds should do it.”

“Huh? Do what?”

Nodding to himself, Mikaen picked up Jeronem. “Hold on.”

He clashed his tek-boots together and blasted straight up into the air mere moments before the guards reached the front gate. Jeronem let out a wild yell as they soared past the balcony and landed almost directly in the center.

After setting Jeronem down, Mikaen glanced over the ivy-covered rail of the balcony. The two guards were banging on the door to no avail; apparently, whatever means they used to open the doors was lost when Mikaen knocked them off the bridge.

Mikaen stepped away as one of the guards drew his bow and took aim. “Okay, probably best to get inside before they start taking blind shots.”

Jeronem tugged on Mikaen's shirt. “Uh, Mikaen? Company.”

Mikaen turned to see Tirinia staring him in the face. Before he was able to say a word, another tigreth, this one with auburn fur with a large patch of white down her front, dropped from the hanging ivy she must’ve used to climb to the balcony.

The auburn tigreth ruffled Jeronem’s hair, saying, “Hey little guy! I see ya’ll got the welcoming committee too, huh?”

Jeronem ducked from under her hand. “I’m a perfectly normal size for my age, thank you very much!”

Chuckling, she turned her gaze to Mikaen, her eyes going up and down his muscular form appreciatively. “And who might you be?”

“Oh, this is my friend, Mikaen.” Jeronem patted Mikaen on the arm. “Mikaen, this is Teria and Tirinia Myssohn.”

Mikaen nodded briefly at Teria, before returning his gaze to Tirinia.

“About last night,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I'm sorry if I, er ...”

Holding his gaze with her beautiful purple eyes, Tirinia silently held out Truth. Mikaen’s hand went to Truth's empty sheath before he remembered that he had forgotten to retrieve it from the lake.

His face red, he took the weapon from her. “Um, thanks, Tirinia.”

“Just call me Tyr, please.” There was a slight blush beneath her light furred cheeks as her hand brushed against his.

Teria glanced back and forth between them, a smirk on her face. “Oh, so that’s the guy you were all dreamy about yesterday.”

The main door edged open with a creak that made Mikaen and Jeronem cringe and sent the girls’ fur on end.

Glancing down at the door, Mikaen said, “We’ll talk later. Let’s go find the Cygros.”

He edged through the balcony entrance and into the expansive hallway beyond, his eyes darting about for any sign of security among the decorations and furniture. Seeing none, he motioned the others forward.

Keeping his eyes peeled, Mikaen asked, “I don’t suppose either of you know where the Cygros is?”

Teria whispered back, “Well, he’s the leader of the country, so I’m guessing he’s either in the audience chamber or his room in the central tower.”

Glancing at the others (and pausing for the briefest of moments as his gaze met Tirinia’s) Mikaen said, “Okay, we’ll split up-”

Teria quickly interrupted, “I’ll go with you. Tirinia, take Jeronem, okay?”

Tirinia looked as though she wanted to object, but she merely nodded in agreement. Masking his own disappointment, Mikaen continued, “Everything clear?”

Jeronem raised his hand. “I’ve got to go to the bathroom!”

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Mikaen could not help but grin. He smacked Jeronem on the arm as Teria and Tirinia hid their smiles. “Let’s go, and for the Creator’s sake, be careful.”

As Teria led Mikaen through the hallways of the palace, he marveled at the construction. The crystal passages appeared smooth, as if someone had shaped the crystal as the vuestan shaped the noktal trees. Plants abounded in the hallways, some of which Mikaen recognized, some not. Mikaen saw bushes with leaves that glittered like gems, plants that seemed to be living crystals, ivies with crescent leaves, and strange plants with colorful flowers that shut as they approached.

After a few minutes, Teria said, “Well, you didn’t reach for your weapons when ya’ll saw each other, so I guess that’s a good start.”

“Look, I’m really sorry-”

Teria replied, “About kissing my sister? Oh, you don’t have to apologize. It’s not a problem if both parties are consenting, Y'know.”

His face burning, Mikaen continued in silence, unable to think of a way to respond.

Teria’s ears twitched. Glancing down the hall, she whispered, “Uh-oh. Trouble.”

They ducked into a side hall, and pressed against the side of the hallway. A few moments later, two monks, dressed the same as the monks Mikaen had met in Homestead and the ones who had tried to capture him and Jeronem on the road to Muonsol.

After they had passed, Teria and Mikaen stepped out of the side hall.

“Priests of Balance.” Teria muttered, her brow furrowed.

Mikaen muttered, “More goons from the Celestial Church. I don’t like the look of this.”

“Me either.” Catching his questioning glance, Teria added, “Long story. C'mon! We’d better hurry.”

After a good ten minutes of nervous sneaking, they reached an unoccupied seating chamber about three stories off the ground slightly to the side of the throne, from which they had a good view of an old idestan with a regal bearing. His dark skin was wrinkled with age, but there was still a brightness to his eyes that belied any appearance of senility. Mikaen guessed that this was the Cygros.

Teria whispered, “There’s an intercom switch here somewhere that leads straight to the king’s earpiece.”

She tapped at the panel, and said, “Cygros, this is Teria Myssohn of Longshore. We need to speak with …”

After a few moments of silence, Mikaen started to ask her what was wrong when he saw what Teria was looking at. Tirinia and Jeronem were being led toward the throne by ten monks. As they approached, the Cygros barked something, at which the monks pushed Jeronem and Tirinia to the floor. The Cygros pointed up at Mikaen and Tirinia and shouted something that did not make it through the glass.

As a group of the monks headed out of the room, a pleasant voice came through the intercom. “Esteemed representative from Longshore, I’ve sent an escort for you. Please remain where you are.”

Mikaen pushed the page button on the intercom and said, “Don’t bother with the escort. I’ll be right down.”

He leapt from the edge of the balcony, tek-boots flaring. Barely making a thump as he hit the floor, he boosted straight at the nearest monk and smashed into him with enough force to send him flying across the chamber.

Jeronem kicked the monk holding his staff in the groin and quickly recovered his weapon while the monk fell to the ground gasping in pain. Almost immediately, the staff leapt out of his hands and began to spin, multi-hued blasts of light firing in every direction, hitting some of the monks in the face and knocking them to the floor.

As the monk Mikaen had knocked off his feet approached Tirinia, she flipped over him and kicked him toward Mikaen, who charged a blast of wind in Truth’s amplifier and sent him back toward Tirinia. She caught him, spun about in midair, and threw him to Jeronem who spun his staff and with a dramatic pause brought his staff around as if it were a baseball bat. The monk missed the spikes on the staff but Jeronem’s enhanced swing sent him flying into the second-floor seating chamber.

The remaining two monks exchanged glances before turning about and running away as fast as they could. They almost reached the door when a familiar shape stepped through the doorway and blocked their path.

Pistols spinning on her fingers and a wild gleam in her eyes, Teria asked, “Going somewhere?”

Mikaen turned to Tirinia to make a snappy comment when she suddenly slumped to the ground, a red stain spreading across her white blouse and fur. Horrified, Mikaen looked up to see the smoking tip of the Cygros’s pistol.

“So it goes, Knight.” The Cygros pointed his gun at Jeronem and fired.

Without thinking, Mikaen pulled the stun gun from his belt and shot it toward the bullet. The blue field barely reached the projectile, but did slow it down enough for Jeronem to throw himself aside. The bullet caught him in the shoulder, sending him crashing to the floor.

Laughing cruelly, The Cygros said, “The True Knight fails his friends! How poetic!”

As he pointed the gun toward him, Mikaen felt his rage burst inside of him, consuming his thoughts and emotions in an angry blaze.

Tossing Truth aside, Mikaen held his hands toward the Cygros and shouted, “Burn!”

A fiery vortex shot from his hands with enough force to blister Mikaen’s skin, far more fierce than anything he had ever summoned in the past. The Cygros dodged the fire vortex with relative ease, but the blast of lightning from Jeronem’s staff caught him full force and threw him back like a rag doll. The Cygros’s body slumped to the ground in front of the heap of ash and smoldering metal that was once his throne, a fist-sized hole in his chest.

Jeronem lowered his staff and leaned heavily against it, the injured arm of his robe stained with blood. “Stupid jerk.”

Mikaen hurried to Tirinia’s side. She was badly injured, but still breathing.

“Water.” Mikaen said, moving to press his hands over the wound to stop the bleeding. “Jeronem, I need-”

The moment his hand touched her soft fur, Mikaen felt a sudden burst of energy flow though him. His hand glowed for a moment, the light spreading from his hands across her body. When the light faded and he pulled his hands back, Tirinia’s wound was gone.

Just as she began to stir, everything faded away. In mere moments, Mikaen found himself in an empty room holding nothing but thin air. Confused, Mikaen turned to see Trystan observing him from a nearby control panel.

Displaying an astounding amount of self-control, Mikaen asked, “Why? Why did you put me through that?”

An apologetic smile on his face, Trystan said, “Had to be sure. There are certain traits that only show themselves when we're under great stress.”

“What traits?”

“Your people have the ability to focus pure stream energy in a way that goes beyond magic. They can use it not only to create portals, but to heal mortal wounds and release great magical blasts far surpassing any spell. It is taxing, however, so any situation calling for that kind of action would have to be dire.”

“My people? You mean I'm a-”

Mikaen was interrupted by the arrival of Jeronem. The young vuestan grinned at Mikaen, relief evident in his face. “There you are! By the Creator, I was beginning to wonder if you'd already left the center.”

His ears twitched as he glanced around the room. “This is an exam room. Y'know you could've told me you were gonna register at the Center too. Did you pass?”

“In a manner of speaking.” Trystan said, a wide smile on his face. “You're a sentient all right. Given your abilities and size, I’m guessing one of the feathered tribes: alcian, xemptarian, or sirenes.”

“Mikaen's a sentient?” Jeronem's eyes lit up with excitement. “That's awesome! Hey, is that how you got here?”

“I'd imagine so.” Trystan said, his eyes on Mikaen. “It's not uncommon for wayward sentients to create portals home as they near their Gineros.”

“Gineros?” Mikaen asked. The word sounded oddly comfortable on his tongue.

“Sentient maturity. That's when you get your wings, which is why you've been having back pains of late. Notice your clothes getting a bit smaller?”

“I have.” Mikaen admitted.

Trystan nodded. “There you go. Expect it to get worse in the coming weeks; your wings are encased in a pouch on your back, and they'll be growing like mad. Make sure you get enough to eat so they'll grow good and strong.

Mikaen tried to think of himself with wings for a few moments before shaking his head. “So what now?”

“Well, you both passed your exam, so you're more than welcome to stay and enroll in some classes ... after the Council, of course. Whatever you decide, I’d recommend you stay in Muonsol until your wings emerge; you’re quite close to the end of your Gineros, after all. Although you’ve shown you’re able to use some of your racial abilities, it would be best to wait until it runs full course before you start experimenting with portals.”

Jeronem nodded. “Well, staying put shouldn’t be a problem, what with the Council and all. Oh, that reminds me; we gotta go to the palace and let the Cygros know we got here okay.”

He frowned at Mikaen, who had gone tense when Jeronem mentioned the Cygros. “What’s got you so jumpy?”

“The old Cygros tried to kill him and the Myssohn sisters during his exam.” Trystan said. “Even managed to get a shot off at you.”

“Oh.” If anything, Jeronem seemed amused by this revelation. “Well, I hope I gave worse than I got.”

“That you did.” With a chuckle, Trystan turned back to Mikaen. “You okay?”

Mikaen massaged his temples, feeling foolish that he hadn’t realized it was just a test; why would the Cygros on Vinta have a pistol when clearly Vinta technology was well beyond such a simplistic projectile weapon. In hindsight, the whole test had an air of falseness. The conveniently placed balcony, the ineptitude of the guards, the monks: all of these things should have tipped him off to what was going on.

Trystan let out a booming laugh. “You worry too much, my young friend! You two go on and check in with the Cygros. I’ll send a message when I know what tribe you belong to.”

Mikaen held out his hand to Trystan, saying, “Thanks, Mister Trystan. It’s been interesting.”

“Anytime, my young friend!” the Seed chuckled, “Anytime!”

They were almost out the door when Mikaen stopped and turned. “I created a portal to Vinta in response to my oncoming Gineros.”

“That's right.”

“So I'm from Vinta. I'm native to this planet.”

“As native as the rest of us.”

Mikaen paused for a moment before asking, “Then how did I end up on Earth in the first place?”

“Hey, yeah!” Jeronem turned his wide eyes on the Seed. “I mean, he musta come from here at some point. Hey, he might have parents here somewhere!”

“They didn't abandon you.” Trystan said, answering Mikaen's concern before he could even voice it. “Sentients have long life-spans, and don't have children as often as the ground races. They are extremely protective of their young, that much I can tell you with absolute certainty. As for how you ended up on Earth ... well, I don't know, not yet anyway. I'll go through my notes and see if I can't find some precedent for this.”

Mikaen felt like he should ask more, but it was clear that Trystan wouldn't have the answers.

Trystan clapped him on the shoulder again. “I suggest not worrying about it, as hard as that may be. You are who you are, no matter where it was you originally came from.”

Mikaen found the Seed's words comforting. Smiling, he said “Yeah, you're right. Thanks, Trystan.”

“Anytime, my young friend.”

20: Chapter 19 - Familiar Faces

Mikaen told Jeronem everything that had happened during the test as they walked through the streets and bridges of Muonsol. Jeronem listened patiently until the story was finished before giving his opinion.

“Well, you’re either very courageous or very stupid.”

Mikaen laughed at the assessment. “Probably the latter.”

“Well, what you saw in your exam was a load of durien fodder. I met the Cygros once; he's pretty young, to be honest. I can't see him killing off reps either, not without invoking the wrath of the rest of Vinta. Question is, why did you think he'd be trying to kill us?”

“Huh?”

“Everything you saw came from your mind. I just took the test too, remember? Your mind cooked up an evil Cygros capturing and killing reps.”

Mikaen sighed. “I'd like to think that my time in the Knights of the Star has been to my benefit, but I guess it has left me a bit paranoid. Our little encounter with the monks didn't help either.”

“I can see your point.” Jeronem scratched his cheek, a thoughtful expression on his face. “I've been thinking about the monks too, to be honest. I still can't figure out what that was about.”

“Well, maybe the Cygros will know.”

A smirk appeared on Jeronem's face. “Or maybe he's the mastermind behind it all.”

“Very funny.”

As they passed through the shopping arcade, Mikaen asked Jeronem, “How much of what I saw in that test was real? I mean, this place looks pretty much the same.”

“The Center of Knowledge keeps a record of the memories from anyone who takes an in depth examination for use in future tests, probably to make sure that the information is as up to date as possible. I don’t really know how in depth it is; Dad’s the one who explained it to me, and you know better than anyone how long-winded he can be.”

“What about Teria and Tirinia?” Mikaen asked hesitantly.

A knowing smile crossed Jeronem’s face. “Well, Teria’s Tirinia’s sister, and Tirinia’s fresh on your mind, so it’s natural for their images to be called up. I saw you in my exam too, y’know. I only met the Myssohn sisters once, about five years ago when I tagged along with mom and dad to attend the council. I was only a kid then, but they were both capable of taking care of themselves. I wouldn't worry.”

As they passed a small fast food restaurant, Jeronem stopped and turned to Mikaen. “I'm gonna go get us some breakfast. Wait here a second, okay?”

Jeronem disappeared into the restaurant, a bell on the door ringing as the door closed behind him. With nothing better to do than wait, Mikaen sat on the edge of a large fountain and took in his surroundings.

The shopping arcade was built on a large platform placed higher than the residential areas. As in Mikaen’s test, the area looked much like the malls and shopping centers of Earth’s Pre-Devastation; shops set in lines along the roads, each carrying a unique selection of goods, from the latest clothing styles to top-of-the-line technology. Several large stores caught Mikaen's eye; Zuen Tech Industries seemed to be largely focused on technology while Meridia seemed to carry supplies and equipment for the more magically-inclined. In the middle was Sol-Mart, which seemed to be a more traditional retail store, similar to the one in which Mikaen had lived before joining the Knights of the Star.

Several young idestan children zoomed by on hover boards, drawing stern looks from their elders. Teens wearing stylish (and often bizarre) clothing, joggers, couples, families, and the occasional security guard passed by Mikaen as he sat on the bench and waited. He found it rather comforting; there were only a few places on Earth where people could go about their daily lives without having to worry about the Revs, monsters, or a multitude of other threats that people faced after the Devastation.

At a large shop not too far from where he was sitting, Mikaen saw four men in blue vests struggling to move a heavy-looking pallet while a squinty-eyed idestan, presumably their boss, yelled at them to hurry up. Mikaen was amused to see that although the group bickered amongst themselves, they flipped off their boss in a surprising show of unanimity whenever his back was turned. Mikaen was so engrossed with watching the antics of the group that he didn’t notice One and Two walk around the corner behind him.

Several young idestan maidens in tank tops and mini-skirts blushed and giggled as the two Dreamers passed. Eyeing their curvaceous forms with a grin, Two said, “As much as I love sightseeing, what are we doing here?”

One jerked a finger behind them. “You forget about your little buddy already?”

Much to Two’s dismay, Wong had appeared moments after One and Two reached Muonsol and had followed them around like a puppy ever since.

“Hey, can I be Narrator Number Three?” Wong asked as he hurried to keep up with them.

Two replied curtly, “For the fourteenth time, no!”

Pouting (as he had done the previous thirteen times), Wong asked, “Why not?”

Two sighed and said in a strained voice, “If we let you be Narrator Number Three, the next new Dreamer might get it in their head to be Narrator Number Four. Having more than two Narrators would ruin the joke.”

Wong whined, “But I want to be a Narrator too!”

Two snapped, “Well I want a million bucks, a blowjob, and some nachos, but I don’t see it happening anytime soon!”

One stopped the group and pointed to the restaurant Jeronem entered prior to the Dreamer's arrival. “Okay Wong, listen up; most of the time, you're gonna want to keep a low profile when in the mainstream, which means acting like the norms. Can you do that?”

“Oh boy, can I ever!”

“Good. Go into that store and get three croissant sandwiches with sausage, egg, and cheese, three drinks, and an order of hash browns. Can you manage that?”

“Ten-four!” With a salute, Wong about-faced and marched through the restaurant door.

Two snorted. “I told you he was-”

An ear-splitting scream issued from the restaurant. Wong leapt out of the door a moment later, a bag of food in his hand. With a wild look in his eye, he sprinted away from a large and surprisingly fleet-footed woman who was screaming, “GIVE ME BACK MY BREAKFAST, YOU LITTLE BASTARD!”

The group of men moving the palette dived aside as Wong slammed into and through the palette, sending soft drinks flying and fizzing through the air in a glorious display of chaos and carbonation. The woman bowled over two of the workers as they tried to get up, still screaming as she continued her pursuit.

Looking tired, the workers began to reassemble the stack, their boss yelling at them even more. One and Two traded glances and shook their heads with a sigh before following. As One passed the boss however, he paused for a moment before making a small gesture with his rune hand. The effect was immediate; the boss fell face-first into the ever-growing puddle of sugar-water. One bowed to the worker’s cheers and hurried after Two as the boss lay sputtering in the fizzing puddle.

Mikaen, who had watched the incident with no small amount of amusement, quickly stood and started to follow the Dreamer. “Hey, One! Hang on a second!”

“Where are you going?” Jeronem raised an eyebrow at Mikaen, a drink in each hand and his tail wrapped around the top of a small and slightly greasy paper bag.

“That guy,” Mikaen said, “He was-”

“Oh, the thief? Don’t worry about it. The restaurant will give her a complimentary meal when she comes back. Sad to say, this sort of thing happens all the time.”

“But it was …” Mikaen turned to point out One, but the Dreamers were long gone.

Jeronem shook his head. “Like I said, don't worry about it. How about some breakfast?”

Sighing, Mikaen said, “Breakfast sounds fine.”

After eating, Mikaen and Jeronem set off for the palace. The midday heat of the twin suns was scorching but the cool breeze that blew beneath the canopy of leaves kept them cool as they made their way to Muonsol Palace.

One of the guards stationed at the front entrance looked Mikaen over as if searching for some critical flaw before asking Jeronem, “We’ve been informed of your arrival, Representative Thistlethorn, but who is this?”

Jeronem gestured at Mikaen. “Sir Mikaen of the Knights of the Star, a friend of the Thistlethorn house. Mikaen and I will be representing Homestead in my parent’s stead.”

The guard looked as though he would have liked to object until Jeronem showed him the official paper signed by Elduran. After peering at the paper for a few moments, the guard reluctantly let them pass.

The entrance hallway of the palace was as glamorous as the outside of the palace. Huge golden statues of creatures both beautiful and horrific lined the crystalline walls on either side of Mikaen and Jeronem. The carpet covering the floor had been woven into an intricate pattern of colors that seemed to sweep around each other in a manner that was quite pleasing to the eye. Mikaen would have liked to look around some more but they were nearing the doors to the audience chamber, as indicated by the jester standing outside the entrance.

“Ah,” said the jester, grinning widely, “wee little Jeronem from Homestead comes to Muonsol with a … whoa!”

The jester’s voice fell flat as he took in the knight’s appearance.

Giving his most friendly smile, Mikaen said, “Sir Mikaen of the Knights of the Star. I’m filling in for Elduran on behalf of Homestead.”

The jester forced a bow. “Of course, your knightliness, of course. Ah, the great and mighty Cygros told me to admit both of you when you arrived.”

The doors to the audience chamber opened, revealing the throne room of the Cygros of Ircandesta. The throne room was lined with full-bodied trees, the lower branches of which converged around a golden chair situated at the far wall. Glass windows were fitted in the space between branches, giving a small view into the rooms beyond, or more accurately, giving those within the rooms a large view into the central chamber. The entire chamber was illuminated by a a magnificent crystal chandelier that hovered far above the smooth marble floor.

Hundreds of idestan watched as the two representatives from Homestead slowly walked through the chamber. Mikaen focused his attention on the distant throne, trying to suppress his natural dislike of crowds. The lone figure (presumably the Cygros, Mikaen reasoned) reclined on the living throne. At the moment, he was rubbing his forehead, presumably on the account of the small group that currently stood before him.

“How many times have we been through this?” The Cygros asked, the strain in his voice audible even to the distant Mikaen, “I can't justify funding your project.”

“But your Grace, I-”

“The answer is no, Bevel! Just like the last six times! Find another location, or another project, or another person with more time on their hands ... and for the love of the Creator, don't waste my time with this again!”

The Cygros tapped at something on the armrest of the throne. The three idestan vanished with a small puff of smoke.

“Just teleported outside.” Jeronem assured him. “It helps clear out the queue.”

“I bet.” Mikaen replied, not feeling particularly assured.

The Cygros was still shaking his head as he called out, “Next!”

“C'mon.” Jeronem patted Mikaen on the side and motioned for them to move.

As they approached the throne, Mikaen took in the Cygros's appearance. He wasn't the first fair-skinned idestan Mikaen encountered during his stay on Vinta, but there certainly had not been many. Of course, being an idestan and all, the Cygros could have been centuries older and still look the same age as Mikaen.

More than that, however, something about the man struck Mikaen as familiar, but he could not put his finger on it.

“It's been a long day, so pardon me if I skip the pleasantries.” said the Cygros as the two approached. “Now who are you, and what do you want?”

That voice, that face ... it was impossible, but Mikaen could never forget either.

“Well, for starters, you could at least pretend to be paying attention.” Mikaen called out in English.

The Cygros's head jerked up, his eyes wide. Mikaen stared back, bemusement narrowly beating out his surprise.

“Mikaen?”

“Yes, Jyle?”

Jeronem's jaw dropped. “Wait, wait, wait! He's that Jyle?”

There was a moment's pause before the Cygros leapt off the throne and hurried forward. Mikaen met him halfway with a bear of a hug that sent a wave of surprised murmuring through those watching.

As they clasped hands and clapped each other on the back, Jyle said, “I shoulda known no two mothers would be cruel enough to give a kid a name like Mikaen!”

Mikaen grinned. “As charming as ever, I see.”

“Ain’t I just? Hang on a sec.” Former Knight of the Star and current Cygros Jyle Cressia hurried back to his throne and tapped one of the control panels embedded therein. “All right everyone, we're done for now.”

A disappointed murmur swept through the crowd. Looking annoyed, Jyle said, “I know you lot love your boring politics and all, but that's all your getting today. Now scram!”

The people began filing out of the observation rooms with surprisingly little complaint. Mikaen guessed this wasn't the first time Jyle had called an early day.

Clapping his hands together, Jyle said, “Right. Follow me, gents.”

“Where are we going?” asked Mikaen.

“Somewhere a bit more private. I want to hear all about what you’ve been doing since you disappeared and I get the feeling it’s gonna take a while to explain.”

21: Chapter 20 - Coincidence

Jyle led them into a small conference room where a familiar little girl was waiting for them. She was wearing a much fancier dress and her hair was well-groomed, but Mikaen still recognized her.

“Hello, Meryl.” Mikaen said, smiling down at her.

She hugged Jyle's leg, a shy smile on her cute little face.

Patting the girl on the head, Jyle said, “Elduran had mentioned he was looking after someone named Mikaen. I thought it was you, but I wanted to be sure. When he sent word that you were coming in his place, I sent my daughter to check on you.”

Kneeling beside Meryl, Jyle whispered, “Why don’t you go grab yourself a cookie while daddy talks with his old friend?”

“Yes, Papa. Goodbye, Sir Mikaen!” Meryl curtseyed to Mikaen before running off, giggling.

“Your daughter?” Mikaen said, watching the child’s pretty blonde hair bouncing as she ran. “Wait, your daughter? You have children?”

To his amazement, Jyle blushed. “Yes, well … for now, have a seat.”

As they sat, Jyle told them, “I’ve been here for over seventy years, ever since I got caught in the rift at the Rip in Utah. I certainly never expected to see you again.”

Mikaen frowned. “Since when is there a Rip in Utah?”

“Since the day you disappeared.” Jyle replied, “Some thought you actually fell in. Everyone else gave you up for dead, but I told Syrin, ‘Not a chance. Mikaen’s too stubborn to die.’ Still, it was three months before I finally managed to get to Utah.”

Jyle chuckled, continuing, “I half-expected to see you hanging onto the edge of the Rip. Unfortunately, all I saw when I got there was this strange circle of light and swirling colors.”

Somewhat sheepishly, Mikaen said, “Yeah, it was a portal. My fault, but we’ll get to that later.”

“Well,” Jyle continued, “You know me; I started poking around with it. Sure enough, it pulled me in and bam! I'm here on Vinta.”

“Wait a second,” Mikaen interrupted, “I just got here seven months ago. If you went looking for me three months after I disappeared-”

Jyle finished, “-how did I end up here seventy years before you arrived? Good question.”

“Jyle? Are you in here?” A gentle voice called out.

A slender idestan maiden with golden hair that contrasted sharply with her black skin entered the room. Her clothes seemed fancy, but it was the circlet she wore that most caught Mikaen’s eye, as it was identical to the one Jyle wore.

She walked over to Jyle, saying, “We really must to speak to Rydiana.”

Jyle nodded, saying, “Of course, love, of course. We’ll have a word with her right after I finish with Mikaen here. Oh, Mikaen, this is Julia Cressia, my wife.”

She turned her surprised gaze to Mikaen, who was looking equally surprised back at her. “Mikaen of the Knights of the Star?”

Jyle nodded. “None other.”

Mikaen held out his hand, saying solemnly, “I’ve just got to shake the hand of the lady who tamed him.”

She laughed and clasped his hand gently for a moment, her cheeks flushing ever so slightly. “Then perhaps you could tell me something of my husband’s past? Every time I ask him about it, he changes the subject.”

Jyle shook his head and waved his hands emphatically behind her back.

Suppressing the urge to smirk, Mikaen replied respectfully, “Perhaps later, ma’am.”

Helping his wife to a seat, Jyle said, “When I arrived here, I crashed through the glass walls of one of the outer palace gardens, right at Julia’s feet.”

Julia continued, “He was badly hurt, but when I knelt by him to see if he was all right, he asked me if I was an angel.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right.” Mikaen said with a grin.

Smiling, Jyle said, “Julia took care of me while I recovered. Her visits were the highlight of my days in the palace infirmary. Long story short, we fell in love.”

He put his hands on Julia’s shoulders, adding, “After a few years of badgering from both Julia and me, her father agreed to allow us to marry.”

As she put a hand on one of his, Jyle continued, “Julia’s the best thing that ever happened to me, Knights included.”

He kissed her on the cheek. She blushed and glanced at Mikaen, who pretended to be interested in a nearby plant.

Jyle returned his attention to Mikaen, saying, “Enough about me; what have you been doing the past seven months? What happened during your mission?”

“Everything went smoothly; I met up with our shadow, retrieved the chip, and was on my way back when I suddenly blacked out. I woke up on Vinta …” Mikaen paused, not sure whether he should mention One.

Deciding against it, he gestured toward Jeronem. “… and I eventually found my way to Homestead. I’ve been living there ever since. Made myself a house, helped the local community, and killed some local monsters: that kind of stuff. Elduran sent me to take his place at the upcoming Council seeing as his wife’s expecting.”

“Expecting?” Jeronem didn’t seem to understand; apparently Elduran hadn’t told him yet. “Expecting what?”

“A daughter, I’d imagine.” Mikaen said with a wry smile.

Jeronem let out a sigh of relief. “So that’s why they didn’t walk me to the city gate.”

“Kathryn’s with child?” Julia said, sounding both surprised and excited, “That’s wonderful! With a brother like Jeronem, she’s bound to be a top-class spell-shaper.” Jeronem blushed to the tips of his furry ears.

“Not to trivialize Kathryn’s pregnancy,” Jyle began, “But you mentioned that portal by the rip was your fault. What happened?”

Mikaen started to respond but hesitated; it still felt odd to think that he wasn’t human. Shaking his head, he said, “According to the Seed of the Center of Knowledge, I’m a sentient.”

Jyle and Julia could not have looked more surprised if Mikaen had sprouted wings right then and there. Jyle’s surprise was to be expected, but even Julia seemed taken aback. This struck Mikaen as odd; hadn’t Elduran said that sentients were native to Vinta?

Pushing his questions to the back of his mind, Mikaen continued, “According to Trystan, I created the portal unconsciously because I’m near my …” He glanced at Jeronem. “What was it he called it?”

“Gineros.”

Mikaen nodded. “Yeah, my Gineros.”

“Well, that explains how you got here,” Julia said, looking thoughtful, “but what about my husband? The portal couldn’t have lasted three months, could it?”

“Maybe it could.”

Everyone looked at Jeronem as he pulled ‘Twelve Tribes’ out of his pack and began to flip through it. “Hang on a sec. Ah, yeah, here we go; it says here that portals have a manye harmonious stream flux, just like your standard enchantment. Assuming they behave similarly, it'll only last until the residual energy of the spell is gone, but they can sustain themselves if near a source of pure stream.”

After a moment of silence, Mikaen replied, “That was very Elduran of you.”

Jyle nodded, adding, “Some of it almost made sense. The smaller words definitely.”

Unable to hide her smile, Julia slapped Jyle on the arm. “Now dear, be nice.”

“So basically, you think the rip's keeping the portal open.” said Mikaen, scratching his chin.

Jeronem nodded, still looking a little annoyed at their reaction to his statement. “It would also explain why you appeared near Homestead instead of Rising Star or one of the ground-based sentient settlements. According to the book, you were supposed to appear in the city where you were born, where your people would help you prepare for your coming of age. That much stream energy probably warped the portal a bit.”

It seemed plausible to Mikaen, though he would be the first to admit he was no academic on magical matters. It was the time delay that bothered him; Jyle and Mikaen arrived fairly close to each other in terms of location, but seventy years apart. Temporally speaking, he supposed it wasn't that big of a difference, but it still bugged him.

“Well, at least you'll be able to have your Gineros among friends. You hear that, Julia? Our little boy’s going to become a man!” Jyle pretended to dry tears from his eyes, adding sadly, “They grow up so quickly.”

Julia gave him another whack on the arm. “Behave yourself!”

Rubbing his arm where it had been hit, Jyle asked, “So what are you going to do now?”

“Well, I agreed to participate in the Council in Elduran’s place. After the Council, Trystan’s gonna teach me how to get home.”

“Ah. Well ... that makes sense.”

Jyle started to reach up before he caught himself, but it was too late; Mikaen recognized the gesture as one his old friend made when he was nervous or uncomfortable.

Raising an eyebrow, Mikaen asked, “Is something wrong?”

Before Jyle could respond, there was a knock on the chamber door.

A look of relief on his face, Jyle called out, “Come in.”

The old man who had been with Meryl earlier (obviously some kind of butler or attendant) entered. After bowing respectfully, he said, “The representatives from Longshore are here sir. They wish to speak with you immediately.”

“They’re in Muonsol already? Excellent. Would you bring them here please?”

As the butler left, Jyle turned to his wife. “Honey, why don’t you go see if you can catch Rydiana? I’ll meet up with you as soon as I can so we can have that little talk with her.”

“Of course, dear.” With a nod to Mikaen and Jeronem, she left the room.

Mikaen chuckled. Seeing Jyle’s curious glance, he said, “Sorry; I'm still trying to get used to the idea of you as a responsible family man.”

Jeronem looked at him curiously. “I don’t understand.”

“Jyle was the biggest flirt in the Knights.” Mikaen explained. “He couldn’t see a pretty girl without making a pass at her.”

Jyle blushed. “I was the ladies’ man back in the day. Fortunately, I’ve matured since then.”

“I wouldn’t count on it.” Mikaen whispered to Jeronem just loud enough for Jyle to hear.

Jyle glared at his old friend. “Shall we get moving then?”

After a short walk through the palace halls and a ride up a long elevator shaft, they entered a chamber with a noktal tree growing in the center. There were doors set at regular intervals around the room, each marked with the symbol of the vuestan people (a sprig of leaves wrapped around a golden triangle).

A woman with nut-brown skin was tending a healthy growth of mevos vines. Her skin seemed a little rough around her arms and legs, and her long hair was in actuality leaves and flowers.

She smiled and nodded at them as they entered the room. “The rooms are all prepared.”

“Excellent work, Nathalia.” Jyle gestured to the tree, adding, “I see Bob's doing well too.”

“He's glad summer is here.” She ran her hand across the bark of the noktal tree for a moment before turning her attention to Mikaen. “I can feel her on you as well.”

“Excuse me?” Mikaen asked, a bit alarmed.

“Syrin.” Jyle quickly explained.

“Indeed.” Bowing to Jyle, she said, “I will return to the garden, if there is nothing else.”

“Of course. Have a good day, Nathalia.”

As she walked to the lift, Jeronem asked, “How did she know about Syrin?”

“She's a dryad.” It was Mikaen who spoke, a bemused look on his face.

“Syrin or Nathalia?”

“Both. Dryads can't leave their trees, so they tend to leave imprints on those around them to communicate amongst themselves.”

“Communicate? Like leaving messages or something?”

“When I first met Nathalia, she knew who I was, my position in the Knights of the Star, and some of my less than stellar habits. She also knew that Syrin trusted me, which is why she didn't give me too much grief for landing in her garden.” Jyle clapped his hands together. “Anyway, this is the vuestan guest tower. All the rooms are currently unoccupied, so just take whichever suits you. The Council can’t convene until the rest of the reps show up, and the Cleftans are notorious for showing up a week late, so you might as well get comfortable.”

Jeronem reached for the nearest door, yawning. “Not that this hasn’t been fun, but I could use a nap.” Without waiting for a reply, he slipped inside his room and closed the door behind him.

Jyle waited a few moments before turning to Mikaen and saying in a low voice, “Look, I know it's been a while especially for me, but I can trust you to keep things quiet, right?”

“Of course.” Mikaen replied, distracted. There was something in the back of his thoughts, like a fond memory he couldn't quite remember. It wasn't static, though; he could feel it moving ever so faintly, even though he didn't even know what 'it' was.

“Then we’ll see the girls first. The Galden rooms are a bit better suited to you, at least for the moment, and they’re right next to the Shoran rooms.” Jyle snorted, as though he had heard an odd joke.

Mikaen raised an eyebrow. “Something I should know?”

Jyle shook his head, looking embarrassed. “It’s politics. Forget I said anything. Anyway, you promise you won’t tell anyone what I’m about to tell you? I know rumors have already leaked out, but I’d like to keep a tight lid on this until I have something solid.”

Mikaen shrugged, saying, “Sure Jyle. What is it?”

Once he was satisfied that they were alone, Jyle said in hushed tones, “I have three children, little Meryl, Rydiana and Jekstial.”

Mikaen tried to suppress the urge, but ended up letting out a snort of laughter.

As Jyle glared at him, Mikaen shook his head. “Sorry, I’m still getting used to the idea of you having children.”

Ignoring the remark, Jyle continued, “Jek’s a great boy: a hell of an athlete, great with machines, not unpopular with the fairer gender. He's a lot like me when I was younger.”

“Is the universe ready for another Jyle?”

“Funny, aren’t you? Anyway, Jek’s a great kid, and you've seen how sweet Meryl is. Their sister, on the other hand, is a bit on the rebellious side.”

Mikaen raised an eyebrow. “I think that deserves an explanation.”

Jyle sighed. “Rydiana’s been having a relationship with somebody, but I don’t know with whom. What’s worse, she’s been sneaking out of the palace to meet with him every three months or so. I’m concerned.”

“Naturally. You are her father, as weird as it feels to say that.” Seeing Jyle’s eyes narrow, Mikaen coughed and continued, “Anyway, where do the Shoran delegates come into this?”

“Well, apparently a Galden attacked them a few days ago. They weren't far from the city, so I couldn’t help but wonder if it might be the person Rydiana’s going out to see. It’s been about three months since her last disappearance.”

“I doubt it.” Mikaen replied, “Unless she’s into monks.”

Jyle stopped. “Excuse me?”

“Well, the Galden that attacked us were Brothers of the Celestial Church.”

“WHAT?”

Jyle’s sudden shout made several maids who were walking by jump. They looked at him with expressions of concern and confusion.

“My apologies, ladies.” He quickly said, flashing his usual charming smile. “Just talking with my friend here. Pay it no mind.”

He waited until they had passed before pulling Mikaen to the side of the hall. “Did you get a good look at them?”

“Well, I didn't get a good look at their faces or anything, but I've seen Celestial monks before. I’m pretty sure they were trying to capture us, though. They used this.” Mikaen handed the device the monks had dropped to Jyle before rubbing the side of his head. A strange feeling of anxiety was beginning to come over him, despite the fact that he had no idea why he'd feel that way.

Jyle took it and prodded at it for a few moments, his eyes alight with the intrigue of a new toy with which to play. “Huh. This is Galden technology, a stasis-projector if I’m not mistaken. Still, what would the Church be kidnapping people for?”

Shaking his head, Jyle handed the stasis projector back, saying, “I’m friends with the head priest of the local chapter, Gerald Kyrie. I’ll see if I can’t corner him and ask him if he might know what’s going on.”

Jyle shook his head. “I still can’t believe anyone would be stupid enough to attack the delegates. I mean I’d understand if the reps were fional. I don’t know if you’ve ever seen a fional, but-”

“Simply put, rabbit people.” Mikaen interrupted. “I've seen a handful passing through Homestead.”

Nonplussed, Jyle continued, “Fortunately, the Shoran reps had no such trouble. Of course, only an idiot would've tried to ambush two tigreth, let alone the Myssohn sisters.”

“Myssohn?” Mikaen's eyes opened wide as Jyle reached for the door handle. “Wait a-”

His voice escaped him as the door swung open to reveal the same conference room they had earlier occupied. From her seat at the small table, in the very chair in which he had earlier sat, Daughter Tirinia Myssohn looked up and met his gaze.

22: Chapter 21 - Hello Again!

They stared at each other wordlessly for a long moment. It was clear from the look on her face that she was just as surprised as Mikaen.

Jyle took a seat before realizing he had lost his friend. “Uh, Mikaen? You okay, man?”

It took a considerable amount of effort for Mikaen to wrest his eyes from Tirinia. “Yeah. Sorry.”

Shaking his head as Mikaen took his seat, Jyle turned his attention back to the Shoran delegates. “So what did you find out?”

The auburn-furred tigreth gave Mikaen an odd look. Jerking a thumb at him, she asked Jyle, “You cool with him hearing this?”

“Of course. Mikaen's an old buddy of mine; he knows how to keep a secret, so feel free to say-”

“Rydiana's sneaking out of the castle to spend some 'quality time' with an alcian.” The auburn-furred tigreth stated flatly.

There was a snort of laughter. Mikaen was sure it had come from him until Tirinia quickly put her hand to her mouth, her cheeks slightly red beneath her fur.

“An alcian?” Jyle asked, the look in his eyes more curious than angry.

“Yup. Spotted 'em in the act near the Calline Gorge.” She paused a moment, before adding, “Well, not spotted, but heard.”

“Definitely.” Tirinia added. “Over and over again.”

“All night, actually.”

“Okay, okay.” Jyle said, holding up his hands to stop further details. “I get the picture. I don't suppose you managed to catch his name?”

“Not unless his name is 'Sweetie', 'Honeybuns' or, 'Creator's Grace, yes'.”

Mikaen let out a snort of laughter that drew curious stares from the rest of the table.

“Something funny I miss?” Jyle asked, raising an eyebrow. He didn't sound offended; if anything, the Cygros seemed genuinely curious.

Shaking his head, Mikaen said, “Stray thought. Sorry, Miss …?”

“Teria.”

“Miss Teria.” Mikaen finished.

Teria's eyes narrowed. “Now how in the name of the Creator do you know my name?”

 “You just told me.” Mikaen said, frowning.

“No, I didn't.” Teria jerked a thumb at Jyle. “He never bothered to introduce us.”

“I told him on the way here.” Jyle said, flashing Mikaen another curious look. “Now quit stalling; the name if you know it, please.”

Teria stared suspiciously at Mikaen for a few more moments before shaking her head and turning back to the Cygros. “Couldn't get a name. Tirinia got a good look at him, though.”

“He had white wings.”

“Do white wings have some significance?” Mikaen asked curiously, looking at Tirinia. To his surprise, her eyes widened.

Frowning, Teria glared at Jyle and demanded, “Okay, what's the deal here? You went way out of your way to ask us to check up on your precious little snowflake, then ask your friend here to do it too?”

“I did no such thing!” Jyle said indignantly. “Besides, I have it on reliable sources that he spent last night in the Center of Knowledge!”

“Then how'd he know about the wings?”

“Is he right?”

“Well, yeah.” Shaking her head, she turned her attention back to Jyle. “I'd say they were probably gray, but Tyr's got the eye for detail. She says they were white, then they were white. The good news is that if this is an alcian we're talking about, identifying him shouldn't be hard.”

“White wings are hereditary to the line of Andreas Truth. Don't say anything!”

He glanced at Jyle and Teria, who were still conversing about the mysterious alcian as though they had heard nothing. Tirinia, on the other hand, was still staring at him. When he raised an eyebrow in askance, Tirinia nodded a shy smile on her face.

Mikaen was surprised; while the vuestan were able to refine their mental prowess in such a way to allow them to communicate only to those they wished to communicate with, non-natives who learned mental speech broadcasted their thoughts to all nearby.

There was a faint blush visible beneath the pale fur of her cheeks. “I wasn't sure it would … I mean, Mother told me it would be like this, but I wasn't sure. I'm sorry.”

“Sorry?” Mikaen found himself replying mentally before he could stop himself. He needn't have bothered; Jyle and Teria were still arguing, oblivious to Mikaen and Tirinia.

“I've been ... feeling you all morning. When I realized you were here, I couldn't help but feel anxious. I mean, after the other night.”

“Oh, that was you?” Mikaen felt more relieved than anything. “I thought I was just dwelling on Trystan's little test.”

“I know.” She gave him a shy smile. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“I'm still pretty much a stranger to you, yet you saved me in the simulation.”

Mikaen felt his cheeks grow warm. “You saw that?”

She nodded ever so slightly, still smiling.

After a momentary pause, Mikaen asked, “Are you okay? I was a bit rough with you during our fight.”

“I wasn't exactly going easy on you either.” She lowered her eyes again. “I'm sorry.”

“You don't have to apologize.” Mikaen told her. “It was an accident after all. For the record, I'm glad I got to see you again so soon.”

“Me too.” She blushed ever so faintly beneath her pale fur, yet Mikaen could feel a small surge of happiness. “You're nice. I'm glad it was you.”

Mikaen wasn't sure how to respond to that. Fortunately, he realized that Jyle and Teria had stopped talking and were now watching the two of them with mild interest.

“Are we interrupting something?” Jyle asked, a bemused look on his face.

Embarrassment flooded through Mikaen, some of it legitimately his own. Coughing, he said, “Sorry; I was distracted.”

“You didn't look distracted.” Teria's eyes narrowed.

“Oh no.” Tirinia's quiet voice whispered in Mikaen's thoughts. “She knows.”

“Calm down.” Mikaen replied, trying to push some of his own resolve along with the mental words.

If Teria did indeed know about the bond, she said nothing. That didn't stop her from looking at Mikaen with suspicion though, not that he could blame her; Tirinia was her sister, after all.

Still eyeing the two of them oddly, Jyle said, “In any case, I'll go through our records and see what I can find. Shouldn't be too hard to find our man.”

“Alcians aren't common?” Mikaen asked curiously.

“Not really. I mean, you used to see a few every now and then, but it's been a while.” Teria snorted, shaking her head. “Flaky bastards probably went back to Rising Star.”

“Flaky?” Mikaen asked before he could stop himself.

Teria let out another derisive snort. “I once saw an alcian sit in a field for three days. When I asked her what she was doing, she just looked back at me and said, ‘Where else should I be?’ Never a straight answer.”

“Sounds familiar.” Mikaen said, an image of Narrator Number One flashing through his mind.

Tirinia gave him a questioning glance. He shook his head; he had trouble explaining the Dreamer out loud, let alone while trying to form his thoughts into words.

“Well, there aren't many alcians, let alone with white wings.” Jyle told them. “We'll just have to see what comes up.”

White wings again. Mikaen made a mental note to ask Trystan about it, forgetting that another mind was listening.

“Like I said, white wings indicate a connection to the bloodline of Andreas Truth. He's kind of a religious leader for the alcians, at least that's what I've heard.”

“He's still alive?” Mikaen thought, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Well, he's a sentient. They live for millennia.”

This gave Mikaen pause. He knew being a sentient made things different, but he didn't know his life expectancy had become drastically longer.

Tirinia’s eyes went wide, surprise flooding both of them.

“You're a sentient?” She blurted out before quickly clamping her hands over her mouth, her eyes darting to Teria.

Teria stood up and put her hands on the table looking more than just a bit annoyed. “Okay, what's going on here? Did you two bond while I wasn't looking or something?”

Giving away one's inner feelings during combat could prove disastrous, and as such, Mikaen had long since cultivated a good poker face. Tirinia, on the other hand, quickly averted her gaze and looked extremely guilty, which made the answer to Teria's question all too clear. The stunned expression Teria soon wore made her thoughts on the matter equally easy to read.

Her blushing cheeks visible beneath her pale fur, Tirinia slowly lifted something from her lap and set it gently on the table. It was Truth, the grip once again retracted into the hilt.

Mikaen’s hand went to Truth’s sheath, only to find it empty once again. In all the excitement, he had forgotten the Truth Tirinia had returned in the simulation had likely vanished at the end of his test.

Jyle, a smirk stealing over his face, picked up Truth and turned to Mikaen. “My, my. Doesn’t this look familiar?”

Mikaen felt his face grow very hot.

“Do you want to tell me something?” Jyle asked, a mischievous glint in his eye as he handed the weapon to Mikaen.

“You son of a-” Teria was halfway across the table before Tirinia caught her by the tail and pulled her back.

“It's not his fault, Teria!” Tirinia pleaded as Teria struggled to get free. He was taking a bath the same time I was, and we bumped into each other. I look a lot like his late fiancée, and-”

Teria freed herself from her sister's grasp, her tail lashing angrily. “So you bonded with him? You don't know anything about him, Tyr! I know you tend to be impulsive at times, but by the Creator, I didn't think you were stupid!”

Tirinia sat down very quickly, her face flushed bright red. Her embarrassment flowed through Mikaen, but was quickly dwarfed by Mikaen's own anger.

“Hey!” He said, rising to his feet and meeting Teria's gaze head on. “You got a problem with me, how about you take it up with me instead of bullying your sister?”

Teria looked as though she had been slapped across the face. “Oh, that's it. You're going down, bird boy!”

“THAT’S ENOUGH!” thundered Jyle, as Mikaen and Teria simultaneously moved to climb over the table and fight. “Mikaen; keep the chivalry in check. Teria, stop being an ass to your sister. Got it?”

With a final vicious glare at each other, Mikaen and Teria sat back down.

Mikaen still felt anger burning deep in his chest, but the rush of gratitude and happiness from Tirinia made any ill feelings fade.

Jyle said, “Now it seems to me that Tirinia has the main say in this.”

“But-”

Jyle held up a finger to silence Teria. “She's the one with the bond, not you, and not your mother. If she has a problem with it, I'm sure we can find a pharmacist who can get us the proper medicine to break the bond.” Turning back to Tirinia, Jyle asked, “So is there a problem here?”

Tirinia looked at Mikaen for a long moment. He was startled when he realized that she liked him; she like him a lot. Even more startling was the realization that he felt the same way. Maybe it was their conversation in the dream, or her kind demeanor, or the way her thoughts seemed so gentle, but he found himself wanting to spend more time with her.

A smile spreading across her face as she no doubt caught everything he had been thinking, Tirinia replied, “No.”

Teria’s mouth fell open. Quickly catching herself, she said, “But-”

Her voice fell flat as the butler entered the room. After bowing stiffly at the guests, he told Jyle, “I apologize for the interruption, Cygros, but I was told to inform you that Lady Rydiana and her Majesty are awaiting your arrival in the Royal Garden.”

Sighing, Jyle rose to his feet. “It’s just as well. I think we all need a little quiet time.”

“Yes, your Majesty.” Mikaen said in his snarkiest voice.

Tirinia giggled. He even got a smirk from Teria, though only for a moment.

Glowering at Mikaen, Jyle left the room, muttering, “Wise ass.”

Teria rose and headed to the door as well, pointedly not looking at Mikaen as she passed.

“I'm sorry about Teria.” Tirinia told Mikaen through the bond, “She's always been really protective of-”

“Come on, Tirinia.” Teria snapped. “We need to have a talk.”

She wanted to stay and talk with Mikaen far more than deal with another gripe session from her older sister. This Mikaen could tell quite clearly, even if sensing her thoughts was still a strange experience for him. Still, she cared for her sister a great deal, and Mikaen knew she wanted her older sibling to understand, even if he didn't know what it was that needed understanding.

Not wanting to make her choose, Mikaen said, “Well, I hope I'll get a chance to see you later. At supper maybe?”

The lifting of her spirits made Mikaen's heart feel light. She graced him with a smile as Teria pulled her through the door.

He waited a moment to see if she would answer him mentally, but apparently she was busy thinking of what she was going to tell Teria. The clarity of her thoughts began to fade; Mikaen suspected that distance was a major factor, though he could only guess as to how. Sighing, Mikaen headed for the other door. As his hand brushed the handle, however, he realized that he didn’t know where his room was.

“Well, crap.” he muttered.

“Problem?”

Mikaen didn’t even have to turn around to know that One was sitting at the table. “I was wondering when you were going to show up. Having a busy day fiddling with people’s lives?”

“Only yours, Mikey.” One set his booted feet on the table and put his hands behind his head, smiling.

Sitting down beside the Dreamer, Mikaen said, “You knew about Jyle, didn't you?”

“That he was a knight? Yeah. Jyle, Elduran, Trystan, and I were involved in some sticky business with a summoner named Ackibar; when you get pulled into that kind of wild adventure, you typically pick up a few things about your companions on the way.”

“I think I remember Elduran mentioning that.” Mikaen said, mentally making a note to ask Jyle about One at a later time. “Something about virgin sacrifice?”

One nodded. “Yeah. Didn’t quite work out though. Jyle and Julia had already … ahem.”

“Already what?” Mikaen said before the meaning sank in. Feeling a faint rush to his cheeks, he finished meekly, “Oh! Right.”

One hopped out of his chair. “Tell you what: why don’t I show you to the Galden guest rooms? That is where you wanted to go, right?”

Mikaen yawned as he stood up. “Yeah, I think I could use a nap about now.”

As they left the chamber, Mikaen’s thoughts turned to Tirinia. He just couldn’t get her out of his mind. She seemed so perfect: strong and agile, yet kind-hearted and gentle … and so beautiful. A small burst of happiness accompanied his thoughts, making him blush; Tirinia was appreciative of his feelings, and wanted him to know.

“One,” Mikaen asked, “Why did you arrange for me to meet Tirinia?”

One sighed. “Like I told you before, I probably didn’t need to do anything. You would have met her at the Council, and the two of you would probably have been attracted to each other. Am I right?”

Mikaen thought about it for a moment. “Yeah, you’re right. Still, why didn’t you just wait?”

“Well, sometimes two people need a nudge to come together. Better safe than sorry, right?” He let out another sigh. “I just didn’t count on Teria catching me.”

Mikaen let out a laugh and shook his head. “Is there anyone here you don't know?”

After a moment of silence, Mikaen turned to see that One had vanished.

23: Chapter 22 - The Five-Shard Tour

Mikaen was still trying to figure out why One disappeared when Tirinia and Teria appeared at the far end of the corridor.

“Oh, hello again.” He said as they drew near.

Smiling shyly at him, Tirinia said. “Hello.”

Teria gave him an odd look. “You okay? You looked like you were zoning out there for a sec.”

“Hmm? Oh, I’m fine. I was just talking to someone.”

“Who were you talking to?” Teria asked, glancing at the spot in front of Mikaen.

“I’m still not quite sure.” Mikaen admitted. “I think he’s trying to help me, but I get the feeling his goal may not be the same as mine.”

“I see. And do you listen to what ‘he’ tells you to do?”

Mikaen shrugged. “I’m giving him the benefit of the doubt. I suppose I trust him, but it’s hard when he keeps popping in and out.”

“Popping in and out?”

“He tends to disappear when other people come around.”

“Oh, so no one else can see him.” Teria said, crossing her arms.

Mikaen frowned at the increasingly sarcastic tone of her voice. “I suppose you could say that.”

“So you listen to the advice of a man that only you can see.”She glanced at Tirinia and said, “Hoo, yeah, this one’s a keeper, all right. Let’s just hope the voices don’t tell him to start fires or to go skin babies or something.”

His cheeks flushed, Mikaen said, “Believe me, I know how this sounds, but One’s really-”

“One?” Tirinia asked, clearly surprised by the name, “You don’t mean Narrator Number One do you?”

“Yeah, the Dreamer.” He said. “You’ve heard of him?”

Teria rolled her eyes and muttered, “Here we go.”

Tirinia nodded enthusiastically in response to Mikaen’s question. “Narrator Number One of the Elsewhere Incorporate, known most commonly by the name ‘One’. He pops up throughout Vintan history more than any other Dreamer. In Longshore, seeing him is considered a good omen.”

Teria sighed and rubbed her eyes. “He helped stop Calliban’s Crusade, Tirinia. If I stopped a war, people would take my appearance as a good omen too. Seriously, Mikaen, if you get her started, we’ll be here all week; she majored in Vintan History.”

“Really?” Mikaen asked, raising an eyebrow. “Are you a teacher?”

She blushed, but seemed pleased by the question. “I’m working on my doctorate.”

“Ah. Professor then.” His tone was teasing, but he was rather impressed. With the fall of the standardized education system in North America, teaching had become a dying profession. “You know a lot about the Dreamers?”

Tirinia beamed. “Oh, yes! They-”

“Whoa!” Teria said, holding up her hands. “Sorry to stop you both from nerding out here, but I think there’s something else we need to talk about, yeah?”

She turned to Mikaen and said, “Look, I’m gonna be honest; I’m not comfortable with this.Like, at all. You seem like an okay guy, but I think we both know that plenty of people out there seem okay.”

“True enough.” Mikaen said, thinking of the Revs.They had, after all, started as a group to assist the survivors of the Devastation.

“Now I won’t pretend I don’t share mum’s feelings on alcians, but the fact that you know nothing about them either is something.As for being from Earth, well … let’s just say I’ve got some experience on that front, and it doesn’t bother me.”

Rubbing the back of her head, Teria said, “I guess what I’m saying is that it’s not your fault you stumbled into all this. Tirinia and I had a little talk, and since she seems willing to give you a chance, I guess I should too.”

She pointed a finger at him, claw extended. “But don’t think that means I’m not keeping an eye on you. You do something to hurt her, I’ll skin you alive. If she decides it’s over, I better not see you hanging around anymore. Got it?”

Behind her, Tirinia gave Mikaen an embarrassed smile. “I’m sorry. She’s always been protective.”

“I understand.” Mikaen thought back with a smile. “She’s your sister, after all.”

Teria’s eyes narrowed. “She’s apologizing for me right now, isn’t she?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Mikaen said, fighting to keep a straight face. Tirinia stifled a giggle.

Teria glared at both of them for a few moments before letting out a polite cough. “So, now that that’s out of the way, do you want a tour of the palace?”

“What?” Mikaen said, almost in sync with Tirinia.

“Well, I have to give you some time with him, don’t I?” Teria threw an arm over her sister’s shoulder and pulled her close. “Tyr and I have been here a dozen times over the years. Since this is your first visit, weI thought we could show you around a bit.”

“So she can start grilling you for information in the process.” Aloud, Tirinia said, “That is, if you aren’t busy.”

“Of course not,” Mikaen said, giving Tirinia his best smile. “I’d be grateful. Jyle never did show me where I’d be rooming.”

“Yeah, that’s the Cygros all right.” Teria shook her head on account of the idestan king. “Well, don’t you worry; we’ll find a place for you.”

As they started walking, Teria asked, “So, how is it you know the Cygros anyway?”

“It’s a long story.”

“It usually is.”

Mikaen smiled as the memories ran through his mind. “I met him in a town called Bridges back on Earth. I had taken up residence in an old food mart, and had just settled down into a routine when he shows up with a troop of Revs on his tail. Figurative tail, I mean. Anyway, I helped him send the Revs packing, after which we ended up heading west, where we met up with some other survivors and eventually formed the Knights of the Star.”

“Ah.” Teria nodded a few times before stopping and giving him a puzzled look. “What?”

Mikaen found himself telling them about everything as they walked through the palace; Earth, the Knights and the Revs, and the assignment that ultimately led him to Vinta. Tirinia listened intently as well; even though she had heard much of it when she and Mikaen had spoken while dreaming just after they bonded, Mikaen could tell she was still quite fascinated by it all.

When he finished, Teria let out a low whistle. “Wow.I was thinking you were a slamm player or something, but you’re a genuine fighter. No wonder you could hold your own against Tirinia.”

“But your world.” Tirinia said, sadness accompanying her words. “It’s in ruins. So many people are suffering.”

“It’ll get better.” Mikaen said as confidently as he could manage. “The Revs will fall, and then we’ll be able to start rebuilding. It won’t be the same as it was, but maybe we’ll be able to make something better this time.”

“Good on you. Maybe one day you’ll be able to give us a tour, eh?” Teria’s ears twitched as the group neared a large set of double doors set in a dark wooden frame. “Ah, we’re here!”

She abruptly turned and threw open the doors to reveal more books than Mikaen had ever seen. Shelves packed with books stretched from wall to wall, from floor to a ceiling so high, people were using a unique combination of elevators and conveyers to get from shelf to shelf.

“This,” Teria said as she led Mikaen and her sister inside, “is the Muonsol Library.”

“I can see that.” Mikaen replied, a little daunted by the sheer size of the collection.

He watched as several idestan zipped along on the conveyer belts and zoomed up elevator shafts with alarming speed, grabbing books before they sped back the way they came.

“They house one of the largest collections on Vinta, second only to the Arcadia Repository in Wenapaj.” Tirinia told him as she led him to a console installed on the side of a large bookcase. “Do you read, Mikaen?”

“As much as anyone, I guess.” He replied, still staring around at all the books. “Misakren’s library is nothing like this, though.”

Looking him over, Teria smirked. “I’m guessing fantasy’s your genre, Mister Knight.”

Without waiting for a response, she told the panel, “Pick out a fantasy book for my friend please.”

The moment she said this, a robotic hand shot from the side of the panel and flew across the bookshelves. It grabbed a brown leather-bound from a shelf about four stories above them before returning to the panel.

Teria tossed the book to Mikaen. “Impressive, huh? They say Jyle was responsible for getting the technology put in here.”

Mikaen read the title of the book aloud, “’Galen’s Fables; a collection of stories and myths.’ Sounds interesting.”

“Yeah, well make sure you bring it back. You wouldn’t believe the late charges here.”

Another hand slowed to a halt at the console Tirinia was using, this one bearing an old leather-bound book with no title, just a symbol Mikaen recognized as the one on the back of One’s right hand.

“And here we go again.” Teria muttered.

“’Anti-ka Maru’, by Mannon Kokri.” Tirinia explained as she handed him the book. “If you want to learn more about Dreamers, Kokri’s your best bet.”

“Thank you.” Mikaen took the book and flipped through a few pages. “I tried doing some research back in Homestead, but every source seemed to contradict each other.”

“The Veil of Secrecy.” Tirinia said mysteriously. “Apparently, Dreamers keep a tight lid information about themselves. I’ve spoken to a few scholars who’ve tried to write about them in the past; apparently, they’ll get ready to release a volume or a report only to lose their notes or find that their memory is suddenly hazy. Sometimes there are accidents along the road to publication that see the book lost or altered. My favorite was the one where the manuscript ended up in a fiction publisher’s office, only to get massively edited and released as a fantasy novel.”

Mikaen stared at the book as he listened to her speak about the various accidents that seemed to befall those who would shed light on the Elsewhere Incorporate. While One seemed to be a good enough fellow, he also seemed to enjoy his mysteriousness.

“I bet a lot of those writers have vague memories about a guy in a green-and-gray striped shirt.” Mikaen said with a grin.

Teria’s head jerked around instantly, startling Mikaen. The look in her eyes was one of total and complete shock.

“Green-and-gray shirt? That’s what One was wearing?”

“Every time I’ve seen him.” Mikaen told her, flashing a curious look at Tirinia, who shrugged.

“Describe the rest of him.” Teria said, her tone demanding.

“Teria?” Tirinia asked.

Teria held up a hand. “Just do it, okay?”

Taking a deep breath, Mikaen said, “Strong with a bit of extra weight, slight tan, brown hair kept in a ponytail, strong build. I think he had a spiral scar on his right cheek.” Thinking back to his last encounter with the Dreamer, Mikaen added, “He was wearing a necklace too: a silver ring on a steel chain.”

Without a word, Teria immediately started toward the nearest door.

“Hey!” Tirinia said, grabbing her sister’s arm. “What happened to keeping an eye on us?”

“What? Oh, right. Well, you can show him to his room, right?” Teria pulled away and promptly left the library.

His concern merging with Tirinia’s, Mikaen said, “What was that about?”

“I don’t know.” She said, shaking her head as her sister disappeared through the door. “She usually hates it when I talk about the Elsewhere.”

It was all rather mysterious to Mikaen, but he had the feeling that it was likely to remain that way until either One or Teria decided otherwise.

“Well, I suppose we’ll have to continue the tour without her.” Mikaen glanced at Tirinia. “I mean, if you’re comfortable going on without our escort.”

“We’ll manage.” She said, slipping her hand into his.

The next stop on the tour was the palace stables. As they walked inside, Tirinia told Mikaen, “The stables are connected to the forest floor by both elevator and teleporter. The keepers like to let the larger animals walk out in the open from time to time, though a few of them simply show up for food every now and then.”

At about that moment, what appeared to be a calico cat hopped up onto a nearby shelf. At first, Mikaen thought it merely fat; as it sat up, however, it lifted large fur-covered wings to reveal a lithe feline form.

Much to Mikaen’s astonishment, it asked, “Hello there! Can I help you with something?”

Kneeling, Tirinia said, “Hello, Trabia. I’m giving Mikaen a tour of the palace.”

The cat hopped up to a nearby shelf and gave Mikaen a cursory examination.

Mikaen stared back. He had seen stranger things, but for some reason, the idea of a talking cat floored him. After a few moments, he managed to say, “Nice to meet you, Miss Trabia.”

The cat giggled. “Just call me Trabia. Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

“Sure thing.” As Trabia sauntered off, Mikaen asked, “She’s the keeper?”

“Her pride.” Tirinia corrected. “They’ve lived in the palace for generations. We’ve a few prides in Longshore, though I believe most live in either Ronisgald or the Cleftan Region.”

With Trabia gone, Mikaen turned his attention to the rest of the stable. Although he recognized a few of the creatures in the stables as they walked by, most were new to him: winged bunnies so small that two could sit side by side in Mikaen’s hand, lizards that were able to change into any color (several were perched on a colorful magazine that someone had abandoned), a corral of large bird-like creatures that looked sturdy enough to ride, and even a small docile durien that was currently dozing in a dark corner of the stable.

As Tirinia led him through a corral of horses, they passed a stable of what Mikaen was surprised to recognize as pegasi. At their approach, a colt still too young to have grown wings cantered up to Mikaen looking for some attention.

Mikaen ran his fingers through the colt’s silky mane. “Everyday I’m on this world, I see more and more that amazes me.”

Tirinia looked at him, surprise in her eyes. “You’ve never seen a pegasus?”

“They’re just a myth back home, even after the Devastation.” He patted the pegasus colt's head and fed it a carrot from a nearby bucket.

As the pegasus chomped eagerly on the snack, Tirinia said softly, “You like animals.”

“I’ve got a small kitten back home named Kyren. She’s all black except for a small spot of white on her chest.” A sudden worry ran through Mikaen’s mind. “I hope someone’s feeding her.”

Tirinia rubbed his arm reassuringly. “I’m sure your friends will take care of her. Any other pets?”

“Not really. Well, unless you count the frog that lives in the pond outside my bunker. We call him Mister Frogé. He seems to like hitching rides on Kyren. She doesn’t seem to mind, unless he’s dripping wet.”

Leaning against the stable wall beside Mikaen, Tirinia said, “My parents told me a faerie tale about a Mister Frogé and a Mister Moore when I was a little girl.”

“Really? Tell me.”

Tirinia blushed saying, “It’s just a silly story.”

Mikaen insisted, “Please tell me. I’d like to hear it.”

Smiling, she said, “Mister Moore and Mister Frogé are given a map and a key. On the way, they use their talents to escape from trolls, cross a huge ravine, and fool a sleeping dragon. They reach their goal only to find that it wasn’t what it appeared. Realizing that what they wanted was behind them, they returned to a Faerie city they had encountered on the way, and married the two Faerie Princesses who had helped them.”

Smiling, Mikaen added softly, “And they lived happily ever after.”

Tirinia gave him a questioning look.

Mikaen shook his head, “Fairy tales back home always ended with ‘and they lived happily ever after’. It sounds like Mister Frogé and Mister Moore had a happy ending too.”

Tirinia smiled at him. “That makes you happy.”

Blushing, Mikaen replied, “I love a story with a happy ending.”

“Me too.”

After a few moments of tense silence, she sighed and ran her hand nervously through her hair. “I’m sorry. I was so eager to find someone to bond with, and now I can’t help but feel … nervous. I’m just-”

“It’s okay.” Mikaen assured her, “Believe me, I feel the same way.”

She smiled at him. “I know, but what do we do now?”

The pegasus nudged his hands, sniffing around for more food.

Pulling another carrot from the feed bag, Mikaen said, “I’m not really sure myself. What actually happened the other night with us?”

“You don’t … oh, of course you wouldn’t know. Well, I don’t know the exact reason, but …” She blushed again, continuing, “When women of my tribe reach a certain age, we occasionally enter a, um … a mating phase. We call it the thrall.”

“Oh.” Mikaen felt a faint heat grow in his own cheeks.

“The process is triggered,” she said, growing redder by the second, “when a mutual feeling of attraction exists between a tigreth woman and a potential mate. The attack was a test to make sure you were strong enough to um …”

Her whole face crimson, she finished, “To be the father of my children.”

“Oh.” A moment of awkward silence passed. “And when we kissed?”

“We bonded. Our souls touched briefly so that we could become closer, creating a telepathic link. It makes it easier for us to get to know each other, and decide if we want to be together.” She smiled timidly. “I’m sorry if I went too far the other night.I was warned that the bond could be a little overwhelming right after it formed, but I had no idea how strong it would be.”

“No kidding.” Mikaen said. “So it wasn’t just me then?”

He meant that in a playful, teasing way, which is why he was taken aback when her shame filled his thoughts.

“Hey.” He said, rubbing her cheek. “What’s wrong?”

She said, “It wasn’t an accident.”

“I don’t understand.” Mikaen said.

“I didn’t take my anti-thrall medication.”

After a few moments of silence, Mikaen said, “Okay, still not understanding.”

She fished out a bottle of pills and handed it to him. “I could tell I was about to enter the thrall; it’s pretty much every other month since I was eighteen. Normally, I’d have a First to bond with, but-“

“I’m sorry,” Mikaen said, raising a hand, “but what is a First?”

“Oh! Sorry. A First is typically a close friend, someone who I would already care for and want to form a bond with. He or she would be the first to fight me, and in most cases, would be the person I’d actually bond with … if I had a First, that is, but I’ve never found someone like that back home.”

She let out a sigh. “It just seemed so easy for everyone else, yet here I am, twenty-three years old without a First, without anyone.”

“What about Teria?” Mikaen asked. “She’s still single, right?”

“Yeah, but that’s … complicated. She’s got guys hanging on her every word back home; she just chooses not to give them the time of day. My friends are all married, or at least engaged, and I … I wanted that. I wanted that connection with someone, so I didn’t take my thrall medication.”

“Which is where I came in.” Mikaen said.

She gave him an apologetic smile. “I didn’t expect to run into anyone so far from Muonsol, not out in the woods, and yet, there you were. Your body was strong, the body of a fighter, and yet when our eyes met, I felt the surge of love and affection you felt for … for her. Then I felt when you realized that I couldn’t be her because …”

After a few moments, Mikaen finished, “Because Maria’s dead.”

She nodded, her face solemn. “I didn’t just hit my thrall, I was enveloped by it. In that moment, I wanted you.I wanted to comfort you, to hold you close, to bring back those feelings, to you to feel them for me.”

Tirinia lowered her gaze. “And that’s why I’m sorry. I feel like I violated you, violated your memories of Maria. If you wanted to walk away now, I wouldn’t blame you.”

“I think I understand.” Mikaen said.

“Thank-”

Her eyes widened as he leaned forward and kissed her gently on the lips.

Rubbing her cheek, he said, “You said you were glad it was me earlier, and you know what? No matter how this turns out, whether we end up married, friends, hating each other or some variation of all three, I’m glad it was me too. Truth be told, I miss that feeling too.”

She stared at him for a long moment before slipping her arms around him and giving him a grateful hug. “Thank you, Mikaen. I just hope Mom and Dad are just as understanding.”

“If it helps, we could always tell them it was a Dreamer’s fault.” Mikaen suggested.

Tirinia giggled at this. “They’d believe it too. The Elsewhere has a reputation … and at least neither of us are injured. The way mom tells it, dad wore a cast and a sling for months after they bonded.”

Nodding, Mikaen said, “And hey, at least in the forest, we were able to get the fight out of the way with a minimum of fuss. Would’ve been a bit more difficult to explain if we started fighting in the middle of the Council.”

Tirinia let out another giggle. “Or in the library. By the Creator, could you imagine how Teria would’ve reacted?”

Mikaen laughed at that, though his laughter fell into an uneasy silence. “I’m a little worried about Teria, actually.”

Tirinia took his hand again and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “She’s been on edge lately; apparently, someone snuck into our tent the night we met. She won’t tell me who it was, but by the Creator, I’ve never seen her more shaken.”

“I can understand that. Hell, I get why she was less than happy with me; you’re her little sister, and she wants to protect you. I just … I can tell how important she is to you.” Taking her hands in his, he said, “And if it does work between us, I’d like to think that I wouldn’t be pushing you two ap- hey!”

The colt shoved through their hands and whinnied loudly, likely hoping for more petting and treats.

Tirinia and Mikaen looked at it, then at each other before bursting into laughter. Mikaen didn’t know why it was so funny, or even if it was his own amusement anymore, but the surge of relief that passed through him felt like a warm wind blowing through his soul.

As full grown pegasus came over and shooed away the colt (giving Mikaen a surprisingly apologetic look), Mikaen let out a yawn.

Tirinia’s concern filled him with a comforting warmth. She put her hand on his arm and said, “You’re exhausted. I’ll show you to your room.”

As they turned to leave, they found themselves being watched by seven feline faces. Almost immediately, the yulias disbanded and wandered away in various directions as though they had mildly important appointments elsewhere.

“Why do I get the feeling that everyone in the palace is going to know we’re bonded by tomorrow morning?” Mikaen said.

Tirinia laughed and slipped her arm around Mikaen’s. “Bah. Let ‘em talk.”

They left the stables, arm-in-arm. Once again walking through the hallways of the palace, Tirinia asked, “By the way, what is the symbol on your sleeve?”

Mikaen glanced at the crest engraved on his right shoulder plate depicting an image of earth with a small five-pointed star in the center. “This is the insignia of the Rangers Collective. After the Devastation, many of the peacekeeping organizations in the former United States joined together to form the group to help the survivors of the Devastation.”

“Were you a member of the Rangers Collective?” Tirinia asked curiously.

Mikaen shook his head. “The Ranger’s Collective was destroyed by the Revs before I woke up in Bridges. Some of the members survived and joined up with the Knights of the Star, though.”

Pointing to a small symbol that had been scratched above the main insignia, Mikaen added, “That’s where I got this; it’s the symbol of a Ranger known as Crash.”

Running her fingers gently across the strange symbol, Tirinia repeated, “Crash.”

Mikaen nodded. “Crash the Builder, leader of team C-32. He and his team were arguably the most famous of the Rangers. Many of the survivors claimed that Crash held off an entire troop of Revs by himself to buy time for C-32 and the rest of the Rangers to escape.”

“I investigated the area,” Mikaen continued as they walked into an elevator, “And although there was definitely one hell of a fight there, there’s no way to prove that it was actually Crash or C-32. Still, the survivors maintain that he was there.”

Tirinia tapped a button on the control panel. “Did he survive?”

“No one has seen him since that time. His body was never found, but given the nature of the damage at the site of the battle, I don’t see how he could have lived through it.” Mikaen sighed. “A shame, really. I always wanted to meet him.”

Seeing Tirinia watching him closely, he added, “Even if his last battle was just a story, people honestly think that he really could have held off over a thousand troops by himself. He must have really been something to have people believe in him that much.”

They stepped out of the elevator into a large chamber similar to that of the vuestan tower. The only difference was that instead of a tree in the center of the room, there was a circular ring of consoles surrounding a moving metal sculpture that strongly reminded Mikaen of perpetual motion toys he had seen back on Earth.

“Well, we’re here.” Tirinia said, turning to face him. They stared at each other for a few moments, their shared awkwardness making the air uncomfortable.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Mikaen asked when it became clear Tirinia was not currently capable of breaking the silence … at least, not first.

Blushing, she nodded. “Tomorrow. Sure! Yes! We’ll meet up tomorrow. I mean, if you want to. I know you’re probably busy, but-”

Seeing her nervously continuing to speak as she twisted her hands and grew redder by the moment was too adorable for Mikaen. He leaned forward and give her a kiss on the cheek.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” He asked, squeezing her hand.

“Y-yeah.” She said, smiling through her obvious embarrassment. She walked to the elevator, happiness radiating from her like warm sunshine. Her cheeks still red, she gave him a final wave before the lift doors shut and carried her away.

The lingering happiness of her thoughts kept a smile on his face as he picked a one of the Galden rooms. The room he chose was more like his quarters back at the Knight’s Headquarters in Misakren than his room in Homestead; painted walls, carpeted floors, a nice bed with a sturdy wooden frame. The only difference was the computer console, identical to the computers around the sculpture in the main room.

He dumped his weapons on the table and had just started to remove his armor plating when he heard the springs on his bed begin to creak at regular intervals.

Mikaen sighed. “I had a feeling you’d show up again.”

Sure enough, One was in Mikaen’s room. He looked to be around ten years old, and was currently occupied with jumping up and down on the bed.

“Hey Mikaen. Enjoying Muonsol?”

“Yeah,” He replied, thinking of Tirinia.

A grin crossed One’s face. Hopping off the bed, he said, “Wanna see something cool?”

Without waiting for a response, One walked across the room and opened a door on the far outside, Mikaen following shortly after.

The door opened up to a fairly large balcony, shared all of the Galden rooms. From his vantage point, Mikaen could see the six other balconies (one for each set of council representatives) circling around the great tree.

Far below, Mikaen could see the Royal Garden. The carefully arranged plants and flowers looked impressive, but it was the large tree in the center of the courtyard that most caught his eye. While the tree’s size was impressive, it was the tree’s crystalline bark that made it stand out.

He watched transfixed as a stray beam of light made it through the dense canopy of jewel-like leaves, making hundreds of facets glitter across the massive tree’s trunk. Thick mevos vines clung to the sides of the crystal tree, flowers glowing faintly in anticipation of the coming night.

One leaned against the edge of the balcony and said, “Beautiful, ain’t it? Royal family lives in there.”

Glancing at the moon-shaped leaves on a nearby branch, Mikaen asked, “This is a chronoan tree?”

One nodded. “It’s pretty rare, but really old chronoan trees sometimes drop crystalline nuts. The idestan usually use them for jewelry, seeing as most of the time the nuts won’t grow.”

“I sense a Dreamer’s hand.” said Mikaen with a knowing grin.

One laughed. “Yeah, Teach helped the seed sprout. Even he was surprised at how beautiful it turned out.”

After admiring the view for a few moments longer, Mikaen asked, “You said you were in the Ranger’s Collective. Did you know Crash?”

“Crash the Builder? Yeah, he was the leader of my unit.”

Mikaen’s eyes went wide. “You were part of C-32?”

“More like a junior member, to be honest.” One put his hands behind his head and stared up at the sky. “Raven, Monkey, Squeak, and Crash. And me, I suppose; I was Crash’s assistant. I did get to help him with some of his more famous inventions.

“Like what?” Mikaen asked curiously.

“Well, he designed the first Universal Builder’s Tools. UBTs we called them.” Headache appeared on his arms in an instant, looking to Mikaen like two heavy metal gauntlets attacked by a mad technician. “They incorporate a lot of nifty gadgets; fusion welder, rivet driver, strength booster. Useful stuff for building or for crushing a few heads. He also made the first prototype tek-boots with the Off-The-Wall system.”

“Off-The-Wall system?” Mikaen asked curiously.

“There was a mini-gravity device imbedded in the boots that slowed descent around the wearer. If you controlled your fall, you could literally bounce off any surface. Neat, huh? Then there were these massive armored mechs; we called ‘em dreadnaughts.”

“That sounds a little intimidating.” Mikaen said, raising an eyebrow.

“Intimidating? Dude, a dreadnaught could bring down a fully grown behemoth. They weren’t always used for war, though; most were designed to help with the construction of the Star Ocean Space Station.”

Mikaen’s eyes went wide. “Space station!? Wait, Crash designed a space station?”

“Yeah, the Rangers were big into space exploration back then. Figured if Earth couldn’t be salvaged, it might be best to find new horizons. If the Revs hadn’t scattered the Collective, he’d probably be making full-fledged spaceships by now.”

“Whatever happened to the Star Ocean?” Mikaen asked. If it still existed, and the Knights could manage to get access, it could give them a clear advantage against the Revs.

“Oh, it’s still up there, I’ll bet. It was fully manned when the Rangers fell, and it was designed to be self-sustaining, so there wouldn’t be any need to connect to the surface. We only got there via dreadnaught or teleporter, and if the Revs had access to the dreadnaughts, the Knights would have noticed.”

“And the teleporters?”

“I went back to the site of the Ranger’s HQ. Believe me, there wasn’t much left.”

They watched a small group of children playing tag in the garden below the great tree.

Looking back at One, Mikaen asked, “Can I ask you something else?”

“Knock yourself out.”

“Did you ever think of using your abilities to stop the Revs?”

“Obliterate them you mean.” said One, a knowing grin on his face, “Can’t say the thought hasn’t crossed my mind, but it’s not like I can just point a finger and make them explode.

“Veil of Secrecy, huh?”

One gave him a curious look. “Yeah, actually. Still, I wouldn’t do it even if I could get away with it. Who would want that much death on their hands anyway?”

“I suppose you’re right.” Mikaen admitted, “Still, the Knights will probably have to kill a lot of them before they submit.”

“Yeah. It’s sad, but there isn’t much of a choice, is there?” After another long pause, One let out a sigh and turned from the railing. “Well, I’d better be on my way. Take it easy, dude.”

“Wait a sec!” Mikaen sighed again when he realized that One was already gone. Again.

Shaking his head, he turned back to the balcony. “See you later, One.”

24: Chapter 23 - Suspicions

The days leading to the Council passed with little excitement. Jeronem spent most of his free time at the Center of Knowledge. Mikaen spotted him in the palace very rarely, usually at meals. Even then, Jeronem was usually studying. With Jeronem busy with his schoolwork and Jyle busy with his duties as Cygros, Mikaen found himself with an overabundance of time.

Fortunately, Tirinia was more than happy to help him occupy that time. The two of them were inseparable as the days began to turn into weeks. They talked and argued about magic and technology, sparred in the gardens, explored the more remote areas of the palace, and even managed to sneak in a little shopping. The shopping was for Mikaen for the most part; the arrival of his wings would make his already limited wardrobe obsolete. Still, Tirinia tried on more than just a few outfits, always keen on Mikaen's opinion.

At night, the two seemed to always end up on either the Shoran or Galden balcony, talking about their pasts, their homes, their lives, and everything else. The first week saw Tirinia sitting close to Mikaen as he spoke of his time on Earth. One week later, and the True Knight had his arm around her shoulder to keep away the chill in the air as she spoke of her desire to become a teacher of History in the Longshore Center of Knowledge. Three weeks after their first meeting, the words became soft kisses and tender caresses under a moonlit sky.

Of course, Teria still kept a watchful eye on her sister and her new paramour. While she too had warmed on Mikaen somewhat, Teria had made it quite clear that she wasn't quite ready to become an aunt yet. Romance in Longshore could be a bit on the quick side, but it was still considered good manners to introduce oneself to a bondmate's parents before consummating the relationship.

Mikaen and Tirinia were fine with that, however; they were perfectly happy taking it slow. Tirinia felt uneasy about telling her parents about Mikaen, though sooner or later she and Mikaen knew they’d need to let Mister and Missus Myssohn know about their relationship.

Unfortunately, that had to wait; communications with Longshore were garbled at the moment due to interference from Hurricane Gob, a massive storm system crossing the Myriad Abyss. While it was currently wreaking most of its havoc on the Cleftan region, the effects of Gob were evident even in Muonsol; Mikaen and Tirinia's trips into the city came to a halt as storm after storm hit the idestan capital, making travel outside the palace a bit difficult and a lot wet.

Despite the rain, Mikaen enjoyed his time in Muonsol, though one thing began to bother him as the fourth week began with no sign of the other delegates. One hadn't made a single appearance in weeks, and it was beginning to worry Mikaen.

With Tirinia’s aid and his curiosity about his mysterious benefactor reawakened, Mikaen began poring through the library in search of relevant information on the denizens of the Elsewhere. While there was still a good deal of contradiction, Tirinia had found several accounts of historical figures who seemed likely to be Dreamers. It was all speculation, and neither of them really expected to find anything useful, but it was nice to have a shared interest that didn't involve combat.

The fourth week was just about to pass. Mikaen and Tirinia were in the library as usual, though they had to sit at opposite ends of the same table after one of the librarians caught them snogging in the nonfiction section. Oddly enough, the librarians didn't mind Tirinia putting her feet on the table. She didn't wear shoes; apparently most Shoran tribes didn't, as their feet were covered with fur much as the rest of them. Only the pads of her feet were bare, and quite sensitive as Mikaen had already found out much to Tirinia's chagrin.

“Don't.” She said in a warning tone as Mikaen's hand 'accidentally' wandered near her foot.

Mikaen gave her his most innocent look. The look she gave him made it clear even without the bond that she wasn't buying it for a second. Reluctantly he pulled his hand back and continued looking through his book, ‘The Age of Excelsia’.

“It's amazing how a historian can take something quite interesting and make it seem dull.” Mikaen commented idly. “Woman fights killer robots, re-establishes the Balance sect, and ... wow. Both of them? Anyway, they make it sound as dry as an algebra textbook.”

“The movie was great.” said Tirinia, her eyes focused on the pages of ‘Secrets of the Soulstream’. “My aunt played one of the tigreth invaders. I heard there was a sequel in the works, but ...”

After a few moments of silence, Mikaen glanced up only to see Tirinia eyeing the row of bookcases to her right with a surprisingly serious expression.

He started to ask her what was wrong when her voice whispered through his mind. “Someone just said your name.”

“Small surprise.” He thought back. “They've been talking about me since I first got here. ‘The Cygros’s old war buddy.’

“I don't think so.” Her eyes narrowed. “It's a woman's voice.”

“What's she-”

“Shh!” Tirinia continued reading, but Mikaen could tell it was just a ruse from the way her right ear twitched.

He almost dropped the book when he heard the voice through Tirinia's ears.

“You’re overreacting, Rydiana.” said someone that sounded suspiciously like Jyle.

“Am I?” said the second voice, this one feminine. “The Cleftan representatives said there were no signs of the other groups. With all the other disappearances-”

“Other disappearances?” The pseudo-Jyle asked, voicing Mikaen's thoughts.

“Didn’t you see the report on the news last night?”

“Actually, I was more interested in the newscaster.” Mikaen repressed a mental snort; the kid was sounding more like Jyle by the minute.

The feminine voice sighed exasperatedly. “This is serious, Jek! Something is going on!”

“Look, sis, I know you’re worried about Tyrn, but the guy's one of the most skilled energists in Jai Vye. I'm sure he can take care of himself.”

The name was foreign to Mikaen, but not to Tirinia. Mikaen was curious, but Tirinia quickly held a finger to her lips before could open his mouth.

“He would have sent a message by now.” The woman's voice continued, sounding worried “He’d be here, I’m sure of it.”

“I agree, but do you really think bothering dad’s old war buddy is a good idea? I mean, we don’t even know the guy. Suppose he says no? Suppose he tells dad about Tyrn?”

The female voice made a scoffing noise. “Dad said Mikaen was known as 'True Knight' back on Earth. With a name like that, how could he not help? Look, I don’t care if he tells dad! I just want to know Tyrn is safe.”

There was a sigh from the male voice. “Look, sis, if you're really that worried, I'll go grab the Jenkins twins and check it out. There's no reason to bring a complete stranger into it.”

“The Jenkins twins? Did you land on your head at your last practice? I’m not trusting Tyrn's safety to those two flakes. I’m asking Mikaen, and that’s that.”

There was the sound of light footsteps, shortly followed by the sound of slightly heavier footsteps hurrying after the first. “Okay, say that there is something going on: the guy’s been living in Homestead for over half a year. Homestead, Rydiana! Do you actually think that he’d be able to do anything after months of doing nothing?”

Mikaen narrowed his eyes at the bookcase. It was one thing to talk about him behind his back, but it was another thing altogether to question his abilities. Nodding at Tirinia, he rose from his chair and walked over to the bookcase just as the male voice added, “I mean, he’s got to be out of ...”

The male voice trailed off as Mikaen strode around the bookcase and headed toward the two conspirators. They were both idestan, one a male about Mikaen's age, the other a woman who appeared slightly younger. The male looked amazingly like Jyle, only with typically dark idestan skin. Mikaen would've known it was Jek even if he hadn't heard his name come up in the preceding conversation.

Mikaen fixed his gaze Jek, who looked like a young Jyle. “Out of practice, huh?”

“Crap.” Jek muttered. “I told you they were bonded.”

A sense of smug self-satisfaction floated across Mikaen's mind as Tirinia walked up behind him and slipped her hand into his. Mikaen let the young idestan boil under his gaze for a moment longer before turning to Jek’s sister, a pretty young idestan woman with light brown hair.

She seemed as nervous as her brother, but managed to say, “S-sir Mikaen, I’m Jyle’s daughter, Rydiana. I’d like to ask … that is, if you wouldn’t mind-”

“Ah, so this is where you two have been hiding!”

Rydiana and Jek jumped at the sound of their father’s voice. As Jyle approached, Rydiana whispered something in Jek's ear. He nodded before turning his attention back to Mikaen “We'll talk about this later.”

“I see you met the kids.” Jyle said, watching as his children disappeared down an adjoining corridor. “What were they asking you about?”

“I’m not sure.” Mikaen gave his old partner a grin. “I think you scared them off.”

Jyle waved a hand dismissively. “Meh. They probably wanted to hear stories about Earth. They ate those up when they were younger, especially Jek. Good day, Miss Myssohn. I see you're still holding on to Mikaen with an iron grip.”

Tirinia blushed, her hand tightening around Mikaen's. This made Jyle chuckle.

“Good on you.” He said, nodding approvingly. “You'll be a good influence on him. Keep him outta trouble.

Tirinia opened her mouth to respond, but was interrupted by a burst of music that seemed to come from her right pocket. She pulled out a cellphone and glanced at the screen for a few moments.

“Teria's looking for me.” She gave Mikaen a peck on the cheek. “I'll see you at lunch, okay?”

“Okay, Tyr. See you later.”

Mikaen watched Tirinia as she left the library. She turned long enough to give him one last smile before disappearing behind the heavy wooden doors.

Jyle plopped down onto the seat beside Mikaen with a relieved sigh. “Ah ... so, things are going well between you two, I take it?”

“I hope so.” Mikaen blushed at his response, much to Jyle's amusement.

“I'm glad. She always was a sweet girl.” After a brief pause, Jyle added. “Maria would've approved.”

“Yeah, she would've liked her.” Mikaen agreed. “Teria too. I can just imagine all three of them getting up to all kinds of trouble.”

“I hear that.” The smile on Jyle's face was tinged with relief. “I'm glad. She'd have wanted you to be happy.”

“I know.” Feeling awkward, Mikaen let out a small cough and asked “So anyway, what's the word on the other delegates?”

“Cleftans just showed up. Can't blame them for being late; hurricanes are always hard to work around on Vinta, what with the size of the Myriad Abyss.”

“And the others? Jai Vye, Rimstak, and Ronisgald?”

“Eh, probably delayed by Gob. Communications are still a mess, but I'm sure they'll be along once it's safe.”

Mikaen knew Jyle well enough to recognize that the Cygros was worried, even if his tone was confident. Still, even if Mikaen wanted to help, he wasn't sure how. As such, he didn't press the point.

Jyle hit the table lightly and said, “C'mon; let's go for a walk.”

As Mikaen rose from his seat, a slight pang of pain flashed across his back. It subsided almost instantly, but not instantly enough for Jyle not to notice.

“You okay?” Jyle asked, concern in his eyes.

“I'm fine.” Mikaen told him. “Just a little spasm, that's all.”

“Trystan said you were getting close. How are you feeling? I mean in general.”

Mikaen resisted the urge to sigh; Tirinia was fussing over him too at that point. “Well, I can't fit into my armor anymore. Even my shoulder plates feel a bit tight. Weird thing is I don't feel any different.”

“What do you mean?” Jyle asked as they left the library.

“I thought I'd feel, y'know, encumbered. Like someone stuffed a pillow in my back or something.”

“Well, you don't look much bigger. Maybe that's normal. A shame the Jai Vye group isn't here; Windstar's eldest had his Gineros last year. He might've been able to give you some info.”

They walked through the hallways in silence for a few moments. There had been a brief surge of activity after Mikaen's arrival, mostly preparations for all the representatives. As the days passed, however, the excitement quickly turned back into the normal routine. A man with a vacuum slowly worked his way down the hallway with barely a nod at the Cygros.

“I've told them about the ear-buds.” Jyle muttered, frowning at the servant as he continued down the hallway.

Mikaen chuckled and shook his head as they continued walking. “Some things are universal. So, where are we heading?”

“Meeting room. I thought you might like to get a look at the Cleftan delegation.”

Shrugging, Mikaen said, “Sure. I might as well kill some time before lunch.”

The Cleftan Region was a trio of large landmasses to the southeast of Ircandesta. Mikaen knew little of the country other than it was covered in a perpetual storm. He knew nothing of the people that lived there; he was fairly certain he had never seen a Cleftan pass through Homestead.

As Jyle opened the door to the same room in which the Cygros had met with Mikaen, Jeronem, and the Myssohn sisters, Mikaen knew for a fact he had never seen a Cleftan; he would have remembered anyone looking that strange.

There were two people sitting on the other side of the large table, but Mikaen could only guess at their gender; both of the Cleftans were completely covered by clothing. Mikaen supposed there must be some cultural significance to the colorful attire that covered every inch of their bodies, but their eyes were covered as well; one wore goggles and the other some manner of visor.

“Greetings Cygros Cressia.” said the one with the goggles. “I trust everything is well in Ircandesta?”

“As well as ever, I suppose. How was the trip, Councilor Dreas?”

“More interesting than I care to explain.” The Cleftan Councilor let out a tired sigh. “That's the last time I go overland during a hurricane.”

The other Cleftan nodded at Mikaen. “Who is this?”

“Councilor Dreas, Councilor Yrrid, this-” Jyle gave Mikaen a pat on the back, “-is Sir Mikaen. He's representing Homestead at the Council.”

“A sentient representing Homestead?” The Cleftan named Yrrid asked, amusement in her voice. “I should like to hear the story.”

“Yrrid.” Dreas said, looking sharply at his fellow Councilor, “Now is not the time.”

“My pardon.” Yrrid bowed her head.

Coughing, Jyle said, “Well, I'm glad you arrived in any case. We're still waiting on the Jai Vye, Ronisgald, and Wenapaj delegations to arrive.”

Yrrid and Dreas exchanged a look at this, though what kind of look they exchanged was open for debate.

“That's odd.” Dreas said as he turned his attention to the Cygros. “Usually we're the last to arrive. Is there some kind of problem?”

“No problem.” Jyle said just a little too quickly. “Just delayed due to the wrath of Gob, no doubt.”

“Jai Vye perhaps, but Ronisgald? They could've traveled overland; Gob's nowhere near them.”

After a moment's hesitation, Jyle said, “Well, maybe they're just being fashionably late. You know how King Iniagus likes his entrances.”

The door to the meeting room slammed open, making everyone at the table jump. As they turned, a skinny man in regal attire befitting a renaissance festival leapt through the doorway and held out his arms.

After a few moments of silence, Jyle turned back to the Cleftans. “Ah, I see the Wenapaj delegation has arrived.”

“Indeed we have! How lucky for you!” The man paused for a moment to twirl one of the tips of his magnificent bushy red mustache before taking a seat beside the Cygros and propping his feet up on the table. Mikaen caught Jyle's eye only for the Cygros to quickly shake his head and mouth the word 'later'.

“We were just talking about the-”

“I know, I know.” Iniagus said, waving off the rest of Jyle's statement. “We've been holding up the Council. Couldn't be avoided, and I'll tell you why.”

“Actually-”Jyle said, but Iniagus was already talking again.

“It all began few weeks ago, at my youngest daughter's birthday party. Sera just turned three, and she just had to have one of those Dreamspark pillows they make in Longshore. So what could I do?”

“Go to Longshore?” Yrrid suggested, drawing a sharp look from Dreas.

Iniagus snapped his fingers and pointed at Yrrid, saying, “Exactamungo! Well, it just so happens that I already had a trip planned; we're trying to diversify the ecosystem in Wenapaj by importing some animals, and I needed at least two of the Triumvates' okay on it.”

“Wait a second,” Mikaen said, raising his hand to stop the conversation. “I'm sorry, but isn't that really dangerous?”

“Oh, it’s extremely dangerous, especially with air travel being so expensive of late. Fortunately, we found a solution.”

“Not doing it in the first place?” Dreas asked, but it was clear from his tone he didn't have much hope.

“Wrong!” Iniagus said cheerily. “We only got big strong creatures that should be able to survive the trip.”

There was a long moment of silence at the table.

“Oh, it's okay.” Iniagus told them. “We're air-dropping them into the country. Safest way for everybody, I'm sure.”

Another long moment of silence followed. Mikaen wasn't sure if he should laugh, or quietly go find a guard.

Iniagus started to continue, but Jyle quickly cut him off. “It's fine, your Majesty. To be honest, you aren't the last to arrive. We're still waiting for Rimstak, Jai Vye, and Ronisgald.”

Iniagus's eyes bugged out slightly, making him look even more comical. Really? Wow. That is a surprise. I mean, The Guildmaster's usually a bit late, but hey; he's Rimstakken. What do you expect? The Triumvates, on the other hand, would eat their right hands before showing up late. So where are they?”

“That is what we were just discussing.” Jyle told him. “As I've already told the Cleftan and Homestead delegates, they've probably just been delayed a little.”

“Must be some delay.” Iniagus said, sounding puzzled. “I was told the Guildmaster's group had already departed. I was a bit surprised; usually we take the same transport since our countries are so close.”

The silence that followed was much more ominous. This time, it was Mikaen who first spoke.

“Jyle?” He asked, looking at his old friend expectantly.

Jyle sighed and said “Look, I'm sure there's a good explanation.”

“There had better be.” Dreas said. “It's been decades since a country's abstained from the Council.”

“There's nothing wrong.” Jyle insisted, his eyes on Mikaen. “Look, the weather should be cleared up in a few days. I've got engineers working to boost the signals, so we should be able to hear something by then.”

“If they aren't already here.” Mikaen added. He may have suspected something was wrong, but there was no reason to unduly worry the other delegates.

Jyle gave him a grateful nod. “Exactly. Until then, you might as well make yourself at home.”

“Excellent!” Iniagus said, clapping his hands together, “Then we might as well start with lunch! I am famished!”

Jyle gestured to the door, saying, “They should be serving lunch about now. It's nothing fancy, but-”

“But nothing! I love hobnobbing!” Iniagus looked at Mikaen curiously. “Do you hobnob much?”

Mikaen wasn't sure what to say. Fortunately, Iniagus didn't seem to expect an answer; without another word, he leapt up from his chair and headed for the door.

“Well,” Jyle said, shaking his head. “He's as spry as ever.”

Dreas snorted. “That's a polite way to say it. I suppose we'll take our leave as well. You'll let us know when there is news of the other delegations?”

“Of course.” Jyle said, standing up with Dreas and Yrrid. “Until then, I hope you enjoy your stay.”

“Thank you, Cygros Cressia. Until the next.”

“Until the next.” Jyle repeated.

Once they were gone, Jyle sank back into his chair and let out a sigh.

Glancing over at Mikaen, he let out a chuckle and said. “Never thought I'd end up a politician. Thanks for the support, by the way; I kinda thought you'd be the one putting me on the spot, not Dreas.”

“Oh, believe me.” Mikaen said as he rose from his chair. “I am suspicious; every instinct in me tells me there's something wrong.”

“And?” Jyle asked, raising an eyebrow at his old friend.

“And Vinta isn’t Earth. There aren't any Revs here and the monsters seem to avoid the major cities. You say it's fine, and I'm inclined to believe you. Now if you'll excuse me, I think Tirinia's wanting me to meet her for lunch.”

Mikaen had scarcely reached the door when Jyle called out, “Mikaen?”

“Yeah?”

After a few seconds passed without comment, Mikaen glanced back at Jyle. The Cygros was still sitting at the table and facing the opposite wall.

“What is it?” Mikaen asked.

Jyle shook his head. “Never mind. Go have lunch with your girlfriend.”

Mikaen gave Jyle a mock salute. “Don't have to tell me twice.”

25: Chapter 24 - Scaled to Size

Meals at the palace were an informal affair; food was generally laid out buffet-style for everyone who might wander into the dining hall. Mikaen suspected Jyle had a hand in this; in the Knights of the Star, the newest scrub ate alongside the founding knights as equals.

The banquet table seemed fairly packed, save for the area where Tirinia and Teria were sitting. At first, Mikaen thought that the idestan were purposefully segregating the tigreth sisters, but he realized that wasn’t the case when Jek approached Teria. As soon as his hand touched the back of the chair, she gave him a menacing snarl that made the idestan prince wisely relocate a few chairs away.

As Jyle headed for the door, Mikaen approached Tirinia and Teria.

Teria managed a half snarl before she recognized him. “Oh! Sorry, Mikaen. I thought you were that prat again.”

“I saved you a seat.” Tirinia motioned to the chair beside hers.

Mikaen gave her a kiss on the cheek before sitting down. “Thanks, sweetie.”

She rubbed his hand for a moment, affection coming off of her like a warm breeze.

“All right, you two are a thing.” Teria tossed an empty plate at Mikaen. “No need to rub it in the faces of us single people.”

Tirinia made a face at her sister before leaning over and kissing Mikaen. A few idestan looked at the lovers with mild amusement before politely averting their gazes. Smiling, Teria shook her head and turned her attention back to her lunch.

“So,” Teria said as her sister and Mikaen began to eat, “What have you two been up to all day?”

“Met the Cleftan and Wenapaj delegates.” Mikaen said as he piled food onto his plate.

Teria let out a snort. “Then you met King Iniagus. I bet that was fun.”

“That's one way to put it.” Plate loaded, Mikaen sat back and prepared to enjoy his meal. “How about you two?”

“I went down to where Jyle trains the palace guards for a bit of sparring.” Teria told him. “I'll give the Cygros some credit; they're not bad. Not great, but I worked up a sweat.”

She took a bite of her sandwich before asking, “How about you, Tyr?”

“Huh?” Tirinia looked startled.

“What did you do today? Did you go with Mikaen to see King Bonkers?”

“Oh, um ... I had to go to the Center.”

“Ah. Still working on that doctorate, huh?” Teria shook her head. “More power to ya. Me, I'm glad I'm done.”

Tirinia didn't reply; she stared at her plate with an expression of guilt. She jumped slightly as Mikaen put his hand over hers.

Teria sighed and put down her sandwich again. “Look, you might as well just tell him.”

“Tell me what?” Mikaen asked curiously.

Tirinia blushed, her cheeks nearly crimson despite her white fur. Her eyes flashed to Jek, who quickly looked away.

“Ah. Later, when there's less of an audience, perhaps?”

Mikaen stared at Jek for a few moments, a smile slowly spreading across his face that was only partially from the feeling of Tirinia's gratitude spreading through his chest.

As he took a moment to spoon some mashed potatoes onto his plate, Mikaen said, “Hey, that reminds me; does the name Tyrn sound familiar to anyone?”

Jek dropped his fork. Tirinia, on the other hand, perked up considerably. “That's right! I'd almost forgotten about that! I mean, there's that Tyrn, but I seriously doubt it's him.”

“Who is that Tyrn?” Mikaen asked, his eyes on Jek as the idestan prince grew more and more nervous by the second.

“Well,” Teria said after swallowing a mouthful of sandwich, “The only Tyrn I know of is Tyrn Windstar. He’s one of the sons of the Prime Minister of Jai Vye.”

“Son of the Prime Minister. My, isn't that interesting. Wouldn't you say so Jek?”

Jek stared determinately at his plate. Mikaen had to suppress the urge to laugh; Jek was trying so hard not to look at Mikaen that it was obvious Mikaen's inquiry had hit the mark dead center. Tirinia, fully tuned into Mikaen's train of thought was looking at him as well, her ears twitching.

Smirking, Mikaen said “Relax, Jek. I’m not going to tell your father.”

“Tell him what?” Teria’s ears swiveled toward Mikaen. “What's this about?”

“That Rydiana’s been sneaking out to be with Tyrn.” Mikaen said matter-of-factually.

Teria stared at Mikaen continued eating as though he had said nothing of great importance. Tirinia was trying and failing to stop herself from giggling.

Jek let out a sigh of exasperation. “Great.” he muttered, “Like Teria’s gonna keep her big mouth shut with this bit of gossip.”

“Hey!” Teria tossed what remained of her sandwich at the prince.

“Gaah!”

As the prince wiped the mayonnaise off his face, Tirinia put a hand on her sister’s arm, saying, “We won’t tell anyone. Right, Teria?”

Teria grinned from ear to furry ear. “Are you kidding? It’ll be way more fun to just sit and watch.”

Tirinia frowned, but before she could say anything, Jek hissed, “Dad’s coming!”

Everyone turned as Jyle approached. Jeronem followed behind him, his hair tousled and one of his ears cocked at an odd angle.

He sat down beside Mikaen, looking as though he were about to go to sleep. A few moments later, his head hit the table with a thud.

“Tired much?” Mikaen asked, setting an empty plate beside his friend. Jeronem didn't reply with as much as a mental groan.

“So,” Jyle said, taking a seat beside his son, “What were you lot talking about?”

“The upcoming slamm match.” Jek replied just a bit too quickly.

Jyle didn't seem to notice. “Really? Thinking about coming to the match, Mikaen? Well, it’s not for a few weeks if you change your mind. You know, you could start a team over in Homestead. I mean, if you don’t portal home as soon as you hit your Gineros, that is.”

The reminder hit Mikaen like a punch to the stomach; with all the chaos of the past few days, he had completely forgotten why it was he had come to Muonsol in the first place.

Tirinia slid her hand into his beneath the table, a concerned look on her face.

Mikaen smiled at her, saying, “I’m only returning home to finish my last mission. From what Trystan tells me, I should be able to come back afterwards, no problem.”

She smiled back, squeezing his hand before letting go.

“I can’t blame you for that.” Grinning at his son, he said, “After all, I didn’t waste much time laying down my roots.”

Jek dropped his fork again, this time grimacing. “Dad, please. I’m eating.”

After a few moments of eating in relative silence, Tirinia asked Mikaen, “I’ve heard the Cygros mention a member of the Knights named Echu. Are you familiar with him?”

Mikaen and Jyle both laughed, drawing curious looks from everyone else.

“Let me explain,” said Mikaen, turning to face the others, “The Knights of the Star were preparing to raid a Rev supply station. It was just a small base, a place for them to refuel combat units and troop transports, that kind of thing. Before we could send in our troops, Jyle and I snuck in to disable the security systems. Hopefully, without the firepower to back them up, the Revs would give up without a fight.”

“Everything was going perfectly.” said Jyle, “Mikaen kept an eye out for the patrolling guard while I tried to hack into the security grid. We started gabbing like we usually did, talking about our friends back at Misakren and girls we thought were cute … this was before you and Maria started dating, I think, Mikaen. Anyway, we were so into our conversation that neither of us noticed when one of the Revs entered the room in his pajamas.”

Mikaen continued, “I was sure he was about to set off the alarm, but he just walked right on by me without a word and grabbed a drink out of a small fridge in the corner of the office. As he walks back out of the room, Jyle and I notice that someone had written the word, ‘Password’ real small on the tail of his shirt.

“We tried a few things, and eventually find the security code was ‘sleepwalker’. Well, once we have the code, we radio the others. With the security system shut down, the attack force quickly captured everyone in the base, including our wandering friend. No blood, no fighting, no problem.”

Grinning, Mikaen said, “Poor guy wakes up the next day in a cell in Misakren, completely confused and wearing nothing but his pajamas. He didn’t even realize the station had been taken.

Everyone laughed, no one more so that Jyle.

“We found out later that the night guard had written ‘password’ on every pair of that guy’s pajamas. If he was locked out and forgot his code, the sleepwalker would be walking by sooner or later and remind him. The poor guy had no idea!” Jyle let out another laugh before downing a tankard of milk. Smacking his lips, he said fondly, “Good times … good times.”

“What happened to them?” Tirinia asked Mikaen curiously, “I mean the Revs you captured.”

“Oh, some we eventually let go after we got what information we could out of them.” Mikaen shrugged indifferently.

“You let them go?” Tirinia asked, sounding surprised, “But weren’t they your enemy?”

Mikaen waved it off. “There were only three of them, and as you might have guessed they weren’t exactly soldier-class. More than likely, they joined the Revs to avoid being slaughtered with phreacs like me and Jyle. They all tested positive for magical ability. The sleepwalker ended up joining us … and he was Echu Articus.”

“Damn good blader.” Looking at Mikaen, Jyle added, “You know, while you were gone, he was the head of the bladers. Did a great job, though not as good as you, of course.”

Mikaen shrugged, saying, “Of course.”

They continued eating without conversation. Mikaen cleared three plates, and had started on his fourth when Julia approached the table, looking as radiant as ever as she led a sleepy-eyed Meryl to the table.

As they exchanged good mornings, it occurred to Mikaen that Rydiana was absent. Worried or no, she had to have been hungry.

“Where is Princess Rydiana this morning?” Tirinia asked politely, her eyes catching Mikaen’s for a split moment.

“In bed. Not feeling well.” Jyle sniffed, adding, “Probably has a cold from all that sneaking out.”

“Nothing serious, I hope.” Mikaen said politely. He had to suppress the urge to smirk; Jyle had often used his illusionist abilities to make people think he was in his room while he secretly snuck out, usually on one of his doomed attempts to woo whichever female knight he was currently interested in. Apparently his daughter was more like him than he knew.

Pushing his plate away, Jek stood up rather abruptly headed for the nearest exit.

“Where are you off to in such a hurry?” Jyle called after him, a touch of annoyance in his voice, but Jek didn’t respond.

Jyle sighed and shook his head. “Kids.”

Mikaen stared down at his plate. He was still a little hungry, but he was even more curious about the possible link between the monks who ambushed him and the missing people. Jek knew something, that much was obvious.

Pushing his own plate forward, Mikaen stood, saying, “Well, that’s enough for me.”

“After only four plates of food?” Jyle asked, grinning, “Are you sure you don’t want to go for five?”

Mikaen made a face at him before heading for the door that Jek had left through. Jek was gone, but he nearly ran into someone else he knew going through the doors into the banquet hall. One seemed a bit startled by Mikaen’s appearance. “Oh! Good morning, Mikaen. I was just going to have a bit of breakfast.”

“If you’re still trying to avoid Teria, you might want to wait a few minutes.” Mikaen advised him.

“Thanks for the-” One stopped abruptly. “Now what makes you think I’m avoiding Teria?”

“The other night when she was chasing you, about a month ago when you disappeared as she and Tirinia came around the corner, and the way she suddenly ran off and left her sister alone with a man she barely knew when I mentioned the color of your shirt, not to mention the fact that you just thanked me for warning you.”

To Mikaen’s surprise, One gave a sigh so filled with melancholy that he was surprised that the Dreamer’s breath didn’t come out blue. “Yeah, well … we have some history.”

“Now what does that mean?” asked Mikaen, his curiosity piqued.

One’s eyes narrowed. “It means that I don’t want to talk about it.”

Mikaen waited expectantly.

Sighing again, One said, “I don’t remember.”

“That’s awfully convenient.”

One glared at him. “I’m not lying; apparently I hid the memories from myself. No idea why. It’s coming back, but there’s still a lot I don’t remember. I’m only avoiding her until I get a grip on my memories again.”

“You and she were close?”

One bowed his head. “I think so.”

“How close?”

“Close enough that when she realized who I was the other night, she kissed me.” said One, his cheeks a little red.

Mikaen’s eyes widened. “Whoa! I had no idea.”

“Neither did I.” Shaking his head, One grinned at Mikaen and said, “Well, enough about my strange life. What are you up to today?”

“Well, right now I’d like to see if there’s some correlation between the disappearances around Muonsol and the failed attempt to capture Jeronem and me.” It suddenly occurred to Mikaen just who had suggested the trail that had led to the ambush.

“Speaking of which.” Mikaen put his hands on his hips and glared at the Dreamer.

Looking affronted, One said, “Look, I honestly had no idea you were going to be ambushed. I suggested the trail so you’d end up camping close to the Muonsol girls!”

Something in the tone of One’s voice made Mikaen believe him. “Still, if you want to make up for it, maybe you can help me.”

One shrugged, saying, “Sure, I’m game. Whatcha need?”

“Information. What do you know about the disappearances around Muonsol?”

“Nothing.” One rolled his eyes in response to Mikaen's renewed glare. “Look, just because I’m a Dreamer doesn’t mean I know everything. Do you know every member of the Knights of the Star by name?”

“No.”

“Can you tell me the head of the old Ranger’s Collective?”

“Well, no, but-”

“How about Jyle’s middle name?”

“I … I don’t know.”

“It’s the same with me. Hell, it's worse, what with the memory artifacts. I mean,” he continued, as though trying to explain himself to Mikaen, “You’d think if my memories were so good that I wouldn’t have stored them away. Dreamers only store away memories that are really bad, but nothing I've remembered so far from my time on Vinta is like that.”

“It is you!”

Mikaen and One turned simultaneously toward Tirinia, who stood behind them. Mikaen was surprised he hadn't felt her presence, though that though had scarcely formed in his head before he felt a sense of smug satisfaction from Tirinia.

One’s face went dark red. Mikaen got the impression that he wasn’t used to people sneaking up on him. “Um …”

“I had a feeling it was you. I mean, the way Teria was acting ...” Tirinia paused, looking even more timid than unusual. “Is it true? You're a Dreamer now?”

“Yeah, I'm a Dreamer.” One told her, his voice uncertain. “Do I know you?”

“You probably wouldn’t remember me.” She told him. “We only spoke the one time.”

“Probably more memories I don’t have.” said One, shaking his head.

“I could talk to her if you want.” Tirinia offered. “She'd never admit it, but I know she still thinks about you a lot.”

“She does?” Mikaen was surprised to see One blush at this admission. “I ... I don't know. I really should talk to her myself; I owe her that much. Still, thanks for the offer, Miss Myssohn.”

“Oh, not at all. I'd love to grill you about the whole Dreamer thing, but Teria's probably not far behind me.”

“She's ... oh, lord.” With a nod at both of them, One quickly walked through a door that Mikaen was certain hadn’t been there moments ago.

When Mikaen turned back to Tirinia, she was looking at the door, a sad look on her face. Rubbing her cheek, he asked, “What’s wrong?”

She sighed and smiled up at Mikaen. “We have to help them.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You mean hook One back up with Teria?”

Tirinia grinned, looking more like her sister than Mikaen had ever seen her.

“I don’t think we have to.” Mikaen said, unable to keep the smile off his face, “He told me that she kissed him the other night.”

“It doesn’t work that way.” Tirinia, cheeks went a little red. “He would have had to defeat her in a fight when she was in thrall. C'mon, Mikaen; I've never seen Teria happier than when she was with One. When he left, she cried for days. I'd never seen her cry before, not even when she broke her leg.”

Grinning himself, Mikaen said, “Matchmaking for a Dreamer, huh? Sounds fun, but I’m already checking up on something. You’re more than welcome to-”

Without warning, the clear crystal windows above them shattered. Mikaen pulled Tirinia close, the missile shield enchantment on his pendant protecting both of them from the falling shards of crystal.

A loud shriek pierced the air. Mikaen looked up to see a small dragon flying above them. Small is a relative term of course; it was easily as big as Mikaen, but it was much smaller than Alfred, Mikaen’s tea-loving dragon buddy back home. While Alfred had purple scales, this dragon's scales were gun-metal black, giving the creature a very sinister appearance.

With another shriek, it dove at them. Mikaen and Tirinia jumped in opposite directions. Mikaen pulled Truth from his belt to attack, but Tirinia was already running forward. With a wild shout, she tacked the creature in mid-air and slammed it to the ground.

It threw her off, but she landed unharmed a short distance away with feline grace.

She lifted a hand and barked, “Sword!”

Mikaen immediately pulled Justice from his belt and tossed it to her. Catching it easily in mid-air, she activated the blade and rushed at the dragon. As she swung Justice at the beast, a wave of bluish-green energy shot from the blade. The dragon dodged, barely avoiding being sliced in half with the potted plant near where it had been standing.

Truth in hand, Mikaen started to join the fray when two more crashes from above send another rain of crystal shards down on him. Two identical dragons fell to the ground, one on either side of him.

“It’s never easy.” Mikaen muttered before stepping forward.

He shot a burst of lightning at the nearest dragon. It dodged the bolt in midair as the other swooped to attack, but Mikaen leapt out of the way just before the dragon was upon him. Unable to stop its momentum, it crashed into the floor, where Mikaen wasted no time in spearing it through the chest with Truth … or at least, he would have if the other dragon hadn’t caught the end of Truth and tore it from his grasp.

As the fallen dragon started to rise, Mikaen shot a blast of lightning from his hand that sent it flying across the corridor into an expensive looking statue of some kind of mythical warrior. The charred hole in the beast's chest made it clear it wouldn't be getting up again.

The dragon with Truth landed, its wings folding against its back. It shrieked at him, holding the weapon in its fore claws and adopting a strangely humanoid battle stance.

A little taken aback, Mikaen backed away from the creature. He couldn’t use his energist abilities; the amplifier in Truth would absorb any magic he shot at it. His eyes fell on the shattered statue; the warrior’s crystal sword lay on the ground, still clutched in a stone hand. As the dragon attacked, Mikaen ducked beneath the swinging blade and made a leap for the weapon.

Flinging the stone hand aside, Mikaen tightened his grip around the hilt of the crystal sword. He looked up just in time to see Truth flashing toward him. Ducking beneath the blade, Mikaen gripped the crystal sword with both hands and shoved it as hard as he could into the dragon’s chest.

The blade slid through the creature’s dark scales with almost no resistance. The dragon dropped Truth to the ground and slumped forward, nearly landing on Mikaen.

He turned to see if Tirinia needed help only to find her watching him with interest from her seat upon the dragon she had fought, her elbow resting on the end of Justice that wasn't stuck in the dragon's chest.

“Are you okay?” Mikaen asked as she rose and approached him.

“A little scraped, but nothing serious.” She looked him over, a hint of concern on her face. “How about you?”

 Bending down to retrieve the crystal sword, Mikaen replied, “Yeah, I’m good, thanks to-”

The sword snapped at the hilt. Mikaen stared at it dourly for a moment before tossing it at the dragon’s inert body, muttering, “Crystal sword. Right.”

Shaking his head, he picked up Truth before turning his attention back to the dragons. Something about them bugged the heck out of him, though it took him a few moments to realize just what it was.

“Wait a minute!” He muttered as it hit him, “They all look the same.”

Tirinia tugged Mikaen’s sword out of the dragon she had slain. “Is that unusual?”

“I’ve never seen two dragons look even close to the same, but look at these three; they’re exact replicas. Same size, same color, same scale shape.”

“Triplets maybe?” Tirinia looked at them curiously.

Mikaen shook his head, saying, “Doesn’t happen like that with dragons. Even with a whole clutch of eggs, the genetic diversity in dragon DNA makes identical twins next to impossible.”

Seeing her questioning glance, he added, “The Knights of the Star trade with a colony in the mountains east of Misakren. I’ve been there a few times.”

“Really?” She said, her eyes widening with interest. “I’d like to hear more about it sometime.”

“Hang on a sec.” Mikaen knelt beside one of the bodies. The dragon was oozing an oily black liquid from the large hole in its chest. Using Truth, he tried to pry the area around the wound open.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” Tirinia told him, her hand unconsciously tightening its grip on her borrowed sword.

Moving closer, he pried the wound open again to reveal network of circuitry, tubing, and steel support rods. A closer look at the scales and skin revealed that they were synthetic in nature.

“It’s a machine!” he exclaimed.

Reluctance forgotten, Tirinia knelt beside Mikaen to get a better look. Her fingers brushing a damaged circuit board, she whispered, “I’ve never seen tech like this before.”

“I have. It was an old defense drone from the Ranger’s Collective.” Mikaen stared at the metal corpse for a moment before adding, “Surprised and killed three Knights and a dozen Revs before we managed to put it down. That one was humanoid, but nowhere near as realistic as this.”

Tirinia pulled out her phone. Glancing up at Mikaen, she said, “I'm messaging Teria. I know she'll want a look at this.”

Mikaen nodded absently, his mind on the drone. “What is this doing here?” He wondered aloud.

At that moment, Jyle rounded the corner. He was laughing with his daughter, Meryl, who sitting on his neck with her legs draped over his shoulders.

Meryl’s eyes went wide when she saw Mikaen and Tirinia, weapons in hand, standing over the bodies of the dragons. “Whoa! Daddy, look!”

Jyle’s jaw fell open as he surveyed the scene.

“Hey, Jyle.” said Mikaen, smirking as he slid Truth back into its sheath, “Just the guy I wanted to see. I don’t suppose you have an explanation for this.”

Meryl slid off her father’s back and started to run toward one of the dragons, but Jyle held her back. “Meryl,” he said, kneeling so he could look her in the eyes, “I need you to go see mommy.”

“But daddy-” she began.

He held a finger to her lips. “No arguments, sweetie. Go!”

Disappointed, Meryl trudged back down the way she and her father had come.

Turning back to Mikaen and Tirinia, Jyle took a deep breath. “Okay, what happened?”

“We were just talking when one of these machines broke through the ceiling and attacked us. The other two busted through a moment later.” Pointing at the exposed circuitry, he said, “Looks like Ranger-tech, doesn't it?”

His eyes going back and forth as though he were reading something, Jyle muttered, “Now what are you doing here? Maybe ... dislodged?”

Exchanging a confused glance with Tirinia, Mikaen asked, “Jyle?”

Jyle shook his head, saying, “Looks Rimstakken to me. Probably some wandering tinker's pet project gone haywire. Please, think nothing more of it.”

“Think nothing more of it?” said Mikaen incredulously, “Jyle, three miniature dragons just dropped out of the sky and attacked us! Tirinia and I were prepared, but if they had attacked a group of servants or people in the city-”

“It doesn’t matter. Look, I’ll have a knight in every hallway in an hour just to be safe.”

Mikaen persisted. “Wouldn’t it be safer if I-”

“I said I’d take care of it!” Jyle snapped, his cheeks slightly flushed.

Mikaen stared at his friend, stunned into silence. They had been friends for years, yet that was the first time he had ever seen Jyle lose his temper.

Jyle let out a sigh. “I’m sorry. This whole business with Rydiana has made it impossible to get a good night’s sleep.” Shaking his head, Jyle patted Mikaen on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about this, Mikaen. I’ll take care of it, I give you my word.”

“Sure, Jyle.” Mikaen said, still giving Jyle and odd look, “No problem.”

As Mikaen and Tirinia walked off, Mikaen stole a glance back to see Jyle looking pensively at the bodies of the dragons.

Once he and Tirinia were a few hallways away, Mikaen said in a low voice, “That’s it; I can ignore a few weird monks, and maybe I could play dumb about disappearances, but robot dragons falling out of the sky? I don’t care what Jyle says; I’m getting to the bottom of this.”

“I think I know where to start.” Said Tirinia, pulling out her cellphone again.

“I didn’t mean …” Mikaen flushed and continued, “I mean, you don’t have to get involved.”

“Are you saying you don’t want my help?”

One look from her beautiful purple eyes drained away any objection he had. Besides, she had been attacked as well; she had just as much a right to get involved as he.

Sighing, he said, “Where should we check first?”

Her lips curved into a smile. “Follow me.”

26: Chapter 25 - Investigations

Trystan’s face broke into a wide grin at the sight of Mikaen and Tirinia outside his door.”Why, if it isn’t Mikaen! Glad you decided to stop by!”

Mikaen forced a smile as Trystan's handshake threatened to break every bone in his hand.

“And Tirinia!” Trystan gave the Shoran Daughter a hug. “So good to see you again! I still can’t believe you grew up so fast.”

“Hi Uncle Trystan.” Tirinia rested her head on the Seed’s shoulder a moment before they released.

Trystan took a seat at his desk before giving them a knowing smile. “So, I hear you two are gonna get hitched.”

“Uncle!” Tirinia said, her furry cheeks pink.

Mikaen felt his own face grow red. “We just met.”

“So I’ve heard. Bonded already, eh?” He gave the sentient a knowing wink. “You certainly didn’t waste time.”

Tirinia did not appear amused. “Stop it, Uncle!”

Trystan shrugged. “I meant no offense. Still, whenever you set the date, make sure to send me an invitation, okay?”

“Uncle, please.” Tirinia said, frowning. “We have something important to ask you.”

“Oh? Then ask away, by all means.”

Rubbing Tirinia’s shoulders soothingly, Mikaen said, “What do you know about the recent disappearances?”

Trystan’s smile faded a bit. “You saw the news report then?”

Sighing, he offered them some mint fudge from a tin canister. Tirinia and Mikaen both took a piece.

“I’ve lost three students myself.” Trystan told them, “Two idestan and a young Galden about the same age as my grandson. At first, I thought they had just run into the city for some fun. You know, sneak into to pubs, hang out in trendy places, that sort of thing. Typical student behavior. Unfortunately, after two weeks …” He sighed and shook his head. “I’d like to look into it, but my hands are tied.”

“But they’re your students,” Tirinia objected, “I thought the Center had autonomy.”

“We do … here in the Center. If it’s outside the Center, however, it falls under the jurisdiction of the Muonsol guard.” He sighed again. Rubbing his eyes, he said, “I've reported the disappearances, but that's all I can do. Believe me; if I had my way, I’d be scouring the forest.”

“Surely you have a way to find them.” Mikaen said.

“I’ve tried all the usual magical methods. So far, no luck.”

Mikaen frowned; the Knights of the Star had a group called Seekers who were skilled in finding people. Mikaen had never trained as a Seeker, but he was sure that some of them employed magical methods.

“Couldn’t you use something that belongs to one of the missing students to track them? Something they came into contact with every day?” Mikaen asked.

Trystan scratched his chin. “I think I see what you’re saying: the object would have some infusion of the owner’s lifestream, which we might be able to trace if it hasn’t already dissipated by now.” He shook his head, saying, “By the time we got it set up, it’d be too late.”

“How about something a bit more old-fashioned?” Tirinia suggested tentatively.

“What do you have in mind?” Trystan asked curiously.

“Well, when someone’s lost in Longshore, we usually start by checking security footage in the areas where they were last seen.”

Trystan shook his head, saying, “I'm sure the idestan Security Force already checked the camera feeds.”

“I'm sure they did.” said Tirinia. “But surely you've got your own eyes around Muonsol ... and perhaps in the surrounding forest?”

“Hmm. Well, I might have placed a number of tracer beacons around Ircandesta ... purely for research purposes. It's not exactly surveillance; it just scans passersby for a number of key signatures; flux patterns, energy signals, that sort of thing.”

“But surely you could use it this one time.” Tirinia gave Trystan a sweet smile.

Mikaen could almost hear the crack of Trystan's reluctance breaking. With a final sigh, Trystan tapped a small bell on his desk. Instantly, the desktop was cleared of all the books and trinkets that had previously covered the aged wood surface.

“Marapus.” He said, waving his hand over his now bare desk.

Mikaen started to ask if Trystan was speaking to him when the translucent blue panel became a three-dimensional map of Muonsol and the surrounding area. He could literally feel the thrum of lifestream produced by the sustained spell. As they watched, the map began to zoom out until it showed a large portion of the forest around the city.

Nodding, Trystan continued, “Let's see; some of the other missing people were alumni as well, so let's start with a search for anyone ever registered at the Center.”

A smattering of dots appeared on the map. When Mikaen looked closer, he realized the dots were actually detailed humanoid figures. They were all over the continent, most clustered around what must have been cities and towns.

“The only missing people are idestan and vuestan, so let's cut out all the other races.” Many of the dots vanished, but not enough to pinpoint any specific location.

“Hmm. That’s a bit suspicious.” Trystan muttered. Rubbing his chin thoughtfully, he said, “Hang on; one of the missing kids had a mark III Kaboum arm. Let's see every signal with cyberware highlighted.”

“Standard cyberware all emits a distinct stream pattern based on energy usage. The frequency differs depending on the make.” She explained to Mikaen. A few of the figures turned blue, including one that appeared to be in Homestead.

Mikaen peered at the lone figure. “I never met anyone in Homestead with cyberware.”

“Kathryn has a cybernetic arm: a Mschens model. Top of the line.” said Trystan “She had an accident the year before Jeronem was born.”

Mikaen was more than a little surprised. “I never knew that.”

Trystan just shrugged, his eyes still on the map. “She doesn’t talk about it much. That was back in her ‘Killer Katy’ days … wild girl. Still is, from what Elduran tells me.”

Tirinia’s eyes widened, her ears piqued. “Really?”

“Story for another day, Daughter Myssohn.” Turning back to his desk, he said, “If they were in the cities, the security force would have found them already. Remove all dots in idestan an vuestan cities.”

Most of the clusters disappeared, but not all.

Tirinia pointed to one of the clusters that remained, saying, “That’s Altier, a small settlement near the strand to Longshore and Ronisgald.”

“This group’s probably just a bunch of fishermen.” said Trystan, sweeping a finger across the eastern edge of the continent. “You see a lot of sonic and sonar-based cyberware among ship crews.”

Mikaen noticed two indicators a short distance away from the city. They were fairly close to a small lake not terribly far from Muonsol. Given the size and position, Mikaen knew it had to be Yuna Lake. An idea promptly sprang to mind.

“Trystan, could you draw a line along the main path between Homestead and Muonsol?”

Trystan nodded and concentrated on the map. A few moments later, a small beam of light traveled between the cities on the map, leaving a blue trail in its wake.

“Now edit the trail taking the detour at …” Mikaen squinted at the map, trying to estimate at what point they had left the trail. “Ah, right here.”

The computer immediately retraced the route, taking the route that Mikaen had supposedly taken. It veered almost straight north, right past Yuna Lake, but not before passing somewhat close to the two red figures.

“Nice shortcut, One.” Mikaen muttered.

Tirinia touched the spot on the map, making the display waver for a moment. “So you think the monks who ambushed you weren’t targeting you specifically.”

“Possibly. It could be a coincidence.”

“It would make sense.” Trystan said, nodding. “Yuna Lake is out that way; it’s the local Lover’s Lane.”

Tirinia and Mikaen exchanged glances, both unable to hide their smile.

Coughing slightly, Mikaen turned to Trystan, “This is more than enough to check out for now. Thanks for the help, Trystan.”

As Mikaen and Tirinia started to leave, Trystan called out, “A moment, Mikaen.”

“What’s wrong?” Mikaen asked, a little disturbed by the serious expression on the Seed’s face.

“If my estimates are correct, your Gineros is very close. I appreciate that you want to help find the missing people, but I would advise you to stay in Muonsol until your wings emerge. The process is supposed to be mind-numbingly painful, which could put you at risk if you’re in combat or sneaking around. I’ll send what we’ve found to the Cygros and the idestan Security Force, but I urge you not to go looking for trouble in your condition.”

“Don’t worry,” Mikaen told him. “I have no intention of leaving Muonsol.”

He nodded, apparently satisfied. Shaking Mikaen’s hand, he said, “Well, in that case, I’ll be in touch. Good day, Mikaen.”

“Good day, Trystan.”

As they walked out of the office, Tirinia whispered, “You lied to him.”

“I said I had no intention of leaving the city, and as of this moment, that is true. We need more information.”

“He's right, you know.”

Mikaen glanced at her, surprised. She rubbed his cheek lovingly, concern in her gaze. “It's dangerous for you right now. I don't want you hurt, Mikaen.”

Part of him was annoyed at how everyone seemed to be treating him like some fragile snowflake, but Tirinia's honest concern made that part of him feel ashamed. She was right; they all were right. From what he had read, the Gineros was extremely painful. If it were to hit at a bad moment, he would be seriously at risk.

He rubbed the back of her hand gently. “Okay, Tyr. I won't leave the city ... at least until after my Gineros. I promise.”

“Good.” She kissed him, her gratitude filling him with a wonderful feeling of warmth. Pulling away, she asked, “So what’s the next step in our investigations?”

“Theology.”

She gave him an odd look. “Excuse me?”

“The study of religion. Tell me, Tirinia,” he said as he put his arm around her as they walked, “When was the last time you went to church?”

27: Chapter 26 - Finding Religion

The Celestial Church was in the middle of the commercial district, and aside from the tree growing around it, looked just like some of the cathedrals that Mikaen had visited back home. It had the usual decorations: spires, gargoyles, buttresses, and the like. The only real difference was the shape; the cathedrals on Earth were built to resemble a cross when viewed from above, whereas Celestial Churches resembled triangles.

“It symbolizes the eternal balance of the cosmos.” Tirinia told him as they stood before the massive doors, “Light, Void, and Chaos with Balance in the center. It’s not just the church either; the symbol of the triangle has been used throughout Vintan history.” Seeing his questioning look, she blushed and added, “I considered minoring in theology.”

“Oh? Are there many gods on Vinta?”

“A few.” She told him, her hand in his. “Though most of those religions aren't practiced anymore. The Celestial Church and the Unending Cycle are the most followed religion.”

“The Unending Cycle?”

“Of Creation. They believe the universe is ever-growing. It's a bit more complicated than that, but I don't want to bore you.”

He swung her around and caught her easily. “Hey. Do I look bored?”

Smiling, she gave him a kiss that threatened to make him forget why they were there.

Someone coughed politely. “Pardon me, but can I help you?”

Mikaen broke away reluctantly and turned to address the speaker, a middle-aged Galden wearing a fine set of blue and green robes. He had a kind face, slightly balding brown hair, and wore a small triangle pendant reminiscent of the symbol on the door of the cathedral.

“Oh! Hello, Father.” Tirinia said, blushing, “We were just-”

Hugging her close, Mikaen interrupted, “My fiancée and I wanted to take a look at the cathedral.”

“So you’re considering a wedding in the church?” The man seemed pleased, if a bit surprised.

“Er, yes.” Tirinia said, her eyes darting to Mikaen’s for just an instant.

“Well then, come inside!” He turned and opened the doors for them.

The inside of the Celestial was nothing short of breathtaking, at least to Mikaen's eyes. The delicate woodwork of the walls was accented by ivory, ebony, and opal, depending on their location within the church. The rows of cushioned pews were flanked by tall pillars of sculpted marble while crystal chandeliers illuminated everything from high above. Beautiful stained glass windows had been set into the walls and ceiling, each depicting a different person of some importance. “Probably saints of the church.” Mikaen surmised, thinking of the churches he had seen back home.

“So,” The priest asked as they continued toward the large triangular alter in the center of the church, “I'm guessing the two of you are followers of the Light.”

They stopped short of the altar. Turning to them, the priest asked, “So, have you decided on a date?”

“We’re still in negotiations with my parents.” Tirinia told him.

“Ah. They want a traditional tigreth ceremony, I’m sure.”

Tirinia chuckled, her cheeks pink. “Mom's the traditional one. Still, we'd like something a little more ... modest.”

“I can certainly understand that.” The priest said with a chuckle. “So, you two plan on settling down here in Muonsol?”

“Actually, we plan to settle down in Homestead.” Mikaen said, rubbing Tirinia’s shoulder, “I’ve made a home for myself there.”

“Ah, Homestead. It’s a lovely town.” The priest let out a sigh, “Such a wonderful way to live, too. Sometimes, with all the technology available to us, we fail to grasp the true beauty of the simple life. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Mikaen felt a brief moment of homesickness. He missed his house by the lake and the evenings spent watching the suns fall from the sky.

Tirinia nudged him. Shaking his head, Mikaen said, “Actually, I heard that the Church wants to build a monastery in Homestead.”

The priest gave them a curious look. “Mo6nastery? In Homestead? This is the first I’ve heard about it.”

“Before I left Homestead, Elder Thistlethorn told me he had been approached by two monks.”

The priest chuckled. “I’m lead the group that makes the trip to Homestead, and I can tell you truthfully that I have no idea what you are talking about; we haven’t made a trip for at least a month.”

“Ah, probably just rumors then.” An idea formed in Mikaen's head. Coughing, he continued, “People like to talk. It’s just natural. I mean, you should hear some of the rumors about the disappearances of late.”

“Gossip is a negative influence that should be avoided at all costs.” The priest said casually, “So, what silly rumor is going about now?”

“Well, I heard someone mention something about people being snatched away by some mysterious organization.”

Clutching Mikaen's arm close as though spooked, Tirinia whispered, “My sister told me that the people were kidnapped by the Remnants of Calliban.”

The priest shook his head, a sad look in his eyes. “It never ceases to amaze me that the mad king continues to have supporters so long after his death. It has been over three-thousand years since he was killed. I’d like to think that people realize that he was just a sick man, but sure enough, there’s always some who believe he had the right idea. What nonsense!”

He looked at them and smiled. “I mean, look at the two of you. You obviously don’t carry any racial prejudice.”

Tirinia and Mikaen shared a smile and hugged each other a little tighter. Before either of them could say anything, however, a pair of doors set against the side of the massive pulpit, revealing another priest and Jyle. There were two guards there also; from the color of their uniforms and the triangle patch each wore on his shoulder, Mikaen guessed they were part of the Celestial Church.

“Of course, my old friend.” The priest was saying as he patted the Cygros’s arm, “Feel free to stop by anytime.”

“Thank you, Father Tercas.” Jyle’s eyes turned to Mikaen and Tirinia.

For a long moment, no one said anything. Tirinia hugged Mikaen’s arm a little closer, glancing at him uncertainly.

The priest to whom Mikaen and Tirinia had been speaking bowed his head, saying, “Good day, Father Tercas.”

“Good morning, Father Tyson.” Father Tercas replied, bowing his head politely. “What are you about today?”

“This couple is considering a wedding in the cathedral. Seeing as he’s one of the representatives of Homestead and she’s a Daughter of Longshore, I think it an excellent idea.”

Father Tercas looked at both of them with a knowing smile. “How intriguing. Well, if they want to be married in a Celestial Ceremony, I see no reason against it.”

Jyle narrowed his eyes at Mikaen and Tirinia. “Father,” he said, “Could I have a word with the young couple?”

Father Tercas bowed slightly. “Of course. We can catch up during your next visit. Father Tyson?”

“Well, it was nice to meet you.” Father Tyson said to Mikaen and Tirinia, shaking their hands, “I hope you’ll stop by later; it would be an honor to host the wedding of such an auspicious couple.”

As he followed Father Tercas off, Jyle approached Mikaen and Tirinia looking more than a little angry.

“What the hell is this?” He demanded, keeping his voice low, “Just what is it you’re trying to do?”

“Get married.” Tirinia said defensively, hugging Mikaen’s arm closer, “Not that it’s any of your business.”

It was the sort of response that Teria would have given, and Mikaen could tell that Tirinia knew it. As she no doubt had expected, Jyle was caught off-guard.

Taking advantage of his old friend’s silence, Mikaen said, “We were just trying to do a little low-level reconnaissance. Hell, it’s worked; we’ve already verified that someone’s running around, masquerading as monks of this church.”

“We’ve also discovered that at least some of the other missing people were last seen not far from where Mikaen and Jeronem were attacked.” said Tirinia, “I think it’s safe to say that something is going on.”

“You can’t know that, not for a fact.”

She replied tersely, “I don’t need to open my eyes to know the suns are out.”

“Jesus, Maria!” Jyle snapped, “Just for once could you not take his side?”

Mikaen and Tirinia stared at him, both surprised. Realization dawned on the Cygros's face, followed by a look of embarrassment and shame.

“I beg your pardon, Mikaen ... and you too, Daughter Tirinia.” Chuckling, he added, “I’m guess I'm getting forgetful in my old age.”

“Jyle,” Mikaen said, putting a hand on his old friend’s shoulder, “You know you can count on me if you need help, right?”

“I know, I know. All I have to do is ask.” Jyle shook his head, smiling. “You haven’t changed a bit … still going around looking for trouble.”

“Why go looking? It usually finds me on its own.” Mikaen replied with a grin.

“True enough.” Jyle let out a sigh. “Give me a few days; if my security force and my shadows haven't found anything by then, we'll consider this a matter for the Knights of the Star. Fair enough?”

With that, Jyle left Mikaen and Tirinia alone in the cathedral. As they watched him go, Tirinia commented, “It's bothering him.”

“I know. The Council is stressful enough, but the disappearances are taking their toll on him.”

“And to top it all off, he's got Rydiana's situation.” Tirinia shook her head, adding, “I don't envy him, that's for sure.”

There was a long moment of silence as they both thought on Jyle's problems. At least, Mikaen was thinking about them; Tirinia's thoughts seemed strangely subdued.

“This is a lovely cathedral.” Mikaen said, running his hand along the smooth back of a white-wood pew. He glanced at Tirinia, but she seemed to be avoiding his gaze. Something was bothering her.

He rubbed her cheek, turning her head toward his own. She looked at him with her soulful purple eyes.

“Mikaen,” She asked in a quiet voice, “Tell me about Maria.”

“Oh.” The request shouldn’t have caught him by surprise, not after what had just happened, but he nevertheless found himself feeling awkward. “Well, she was a tigreth, or the earth equivalent of-”

“No, I mean ...” Tirinia's cheeks went pink, but she nevertheless looked him straight in the eyes as she finished, “Tell me about her.”

Mikaen stared into her eyes for a few moments before replying, “She was kind-hearted. I saw her take on a behemoth without a weapon just to rescue a kitten.”

“Was it …”

“Kyren?  Yup.”

Tirinia smiled with him as they took a seat in a nearby pew.

“She put on a tomboy attitude, not unlike your sister. Still, when you spend a lot of time with someone, you learn to see past the masks. She hated seeing people suffer, which is why she joined the Revs.”

His gaze slid to the alter as the memories rushed through his mind. “She worried a lot, about me and Jyle mostly. She never said as much, but I always thought it was because her own family was taken by the Devastation.”

“But you lost your family too, right?”

“I suppose so, but I don't remember them. She told me once that she was raised by her aunt and uncle along with three other sisters: Jennifer, Ruth, and Lydia.” His smile widened as he continued, “She used to talk about all the trouble the four of them got up to pre-Devastation. We checked out her hometown, but there wasn't much left to see; what little of the city remained was infested with imps. Nasty little things.”

“But they could have survived, right?” Tirinia asked, her hand resting on his.

“Perhaps, but there is no way to tell where they could have gone. So we were her family. We all thought of each other as family, to be honest.”

He fell silent, memories of the past momentarily overtaking him. Tirinia must have misunderstood his nostalgia for sadness; she bowed her head and said, “I'm sorry to bring up old ghosts.”

“I’m glad you did.” When she looked at him in surprise, he continued, “It’s been on my mind ever since I first saw you. If your fur was white, the two of you would've passed for twins. You have her strength, her kindness, and even a bit of her attitude at times.”

She watched him silently, waiting, perhaps sensing his need to explain.

After wrestling with it for a few moments, he said, “But you aren’t her. You aren’t Maria.”

“Is … is that wrong?” She asked hesitantly.

Mikaen looked at her, startled. “No! No, of course not!” He put his arms around her as he continued, “I like you just fine exactly like you are! You're fantastic!”

She blushed, but didn’t look away.

Smiling somewhat weakly, Mikaen continued, “I just don’t want you to think you have to be Maria.”

A shy smile spread across her face. “I know.”

“You … you do?”

“I could feel how uncomfortable you felt when Jyle called me Maria.” She took his hand and set it on her chest, above her heart. Her gorgeous purple eyes caught his and held them fast as she said, “This is me, Mikaen: Tirinia Aerith Myssohn. I’m not trying to be Maria, I promise.”

Letting go of his hand, she said, “If I seem a bit different now, it's ... well, I've always been shy around new people. It’s when I get comfortable that they see how annoying I really am.”

“Oh?” Mikaen said, grinning, “How annoying are you?”

“When I get nervous or excited, I talk too much.” She looked down at her hands. “Teria says I ramble like a Rimstakken.”

“Does that bother you?” asked Mikaen.

“A little.” She hugged her knees to her chest. “I got picked on a lot at school because of it.”

Mikaen didn’t remember going to school (or if he had gone at all, for that matter), but if his time in the Knights had taught him anything, it was how cruel people in general could be to someone just for being different.

He rubbed her cheek, saying, “You can talk until the suns die out, and I wouldn’t care. I like the sound of your voice.”

“You say that now, but-”

He kissed her gently on her lips. It took her by surprise, but Mikaen could feel her happiness swelling in her chest.

She gave him that wonderful shy smile of hers as she slipped her hand into his again. “I’m hungry. Let’s go get something to eat.”

“Sounds good to me,” said Mikaen, giving her hand a squeeze.

28: Chapter 27 - Memories

One appeared inside the Library only to find the floor deserted. He stopped himself from calling out for the elder Dreamer; the library books have always been a bit temperamental, and some of those thicker tomes can really hurt.

As he approached the desk, One’s eyes caught on the black leather bound notebook that lay upon the counter. He was curious, but like many of the Elsewhere, One had more than one bad experience from carelessly picking up strange objects. After a quick glance around the Library turned up nothing more than a stray biography flapping around one of the ceiling lights, he sidled closer to the notebook and carefully opened it with one of the many pens lying on the counter.

“I saw him again today.” One read aloud, “He dispatched a few thugs at the high school before running off. I tried to catch him, but he always was too fast for me. Why didn’t he recognize me? None of this makes sense.”

The squeak of a doorknob made him look up from the notebook. He quickly closed the book moments before a door in the middle of a shelf of historical accounts swung open to reveal Teach and the Dreamer known as Karma.

Little sister to Fate and Luck and wife to Teach, Karma is every bit as pretty as the other so-called ‘Destiny Sisters’. She is a very modest woman; she wears long, serviceable dresses and speaks in a soft voice that can be heard over the loudest shout. She is probably the kindest, most gentle Dreamer in the entire Elsewhere.

She continued talking to Teach as they entered the Library. “I thought it was a little strange too. Fascinating, of course, but definitely odd to think that given the right circumstances …”

Teach stopped, spotting One. For just the barest of instants, One thought he saw a note of surprise in Teach’s face.

Abandoning the notebook, One approached the couple. “Hey, Teach. Hey Karma.”

“Hello, One.” Karma said kindly as she walked past One toward the private sections of the Library.

One waited until she had shut the door before turning to Teach. “Where did you two just come from?”

Teach answered, “Vinta. I wanted to see Mikaen for myself.”

Ignoring the mild indignation that came with the knowledge that Teach was checking up on him, One asked, “Well? How am I doing?”

“Assignment’s going well, I’d say. He was with Tirinia.”

One snorted. “That was the idea, wasn’t it? Speaking of which, I’ve got a question about the assignment.”

“Of course. Anything I can do to help out.”

“If you want to help, finish the assignment for me.” One replied wryly.

Teach chucked. “Anything save that, I’m afraid. What’s on your mind?”

One pulled the list Teach had given him from his pocket and set it on the desk, saying, “If I’m reading this right, I’m almost done.”

“Perhaps, or perhaps there’s still something else left to take care of.” Teach shrugged and started to sort through the stack of borrowed books left on the counter, “Remember, this list is just a guide. I know how much you like to improvise.”

One picked it up and looked at it again. “Says I just need to keep an eye on him for one more day. How much improvisation am I really gonna need?”

Their eyes met in the ensuing silence. One quickly raised his hands, saying, “Never mind; forget I asked.”

“Speaking of which; have you spoken with Teria yet?”

One glowered at Teach. “Because I forgot about her. Cute ... and no, I haven't.”

“Why not?” Teach asked, seeming genuinely confused. “I mean, who better to help stimulate those memories back into place?”

“I know.” said One, leaning forward so that his elbows rested on his knees, “It’s just … how do I tell her?”

“About losing your memories?” Teach asked. At One's nod, the elder Dreamer looked thoughtful. “I honestly don’t know what to tell you. If there was something between you two, she could react in anger or resentment … or she could just kiss you again.”

“That’s the problem,” One sighed. “I loved her. I only have one memory of our time together, but I know we were more than just friends.”

“I sense a ‘but’ coming.” said Teach.

One absently scratched the back of his rune hand. He felt awkward talking about this, especially with another Dreamer. It was hard to keep a secret in the Elsewhere, harder still if said secret involved other Dreamers.

Teach prodded, “Go on. You have my word that whatever you say stays between us.”

“I know that Teria and I could be as close as we were before. I don’t have anything with Luck, but I think I could if I get the nerve up to tell her. The problem is that I like both of them. Half of me thinks I should go for Teria, the other half is rooting for Luck, and quite frankly, I don’t know what to do.” Chuckling, he added, “and unlike Two, I know I can’t have both.”

Teach chuckled at this. “Indeed. You’ve always had a stronger sense of morality than Two … than most of the Elsewhere Incorporate, for that matter.”

“So what do I do?” One asked, a sliver of desperation in his voice.

Teach tapped the cover of one of the books thoughtfully. “I'm not sure what to tell you. Being in a relationship with another Dreamer can be both a blessing and a curse given our longevity. On the other hand, a relationship with a norm can tie a Dreamer to a particular world. That too isn't necessarily a bad thing either, but soon or later every norm dies.” After a brief pause, he added, “I honestly don't know what to tell you, One, other than to advise not being hasty. Get to know Teria again, spend time with Luck, and think about what it would be like to stay with them for a while, for years, for decades. Consider the possibilities, that's what always advise.”

“For the moment, however,” said Teach, sitting back in his chair, “You can’t just go around avoiding Teria. It wouldn’t be fair to her, and ultimately would only jeopardize the mission. For the moment, I believe you should just tell her the truth.”

“Including Luck?”

Teach was silent for a long moment. Perhaps he realized the gravity of the situation; perhaps he was taken off-guard by the trust One was showing him.

“For the time being, I believe you should not tell her about your feelings with Luck. It could complicate matters worse than not telling her anything. Just tell her about your memory problem, and try not to do anything that might lead her on for the time being.”

“Thanks for the advice.” One said gratefully as he rose from his chair. “I'll think on it.”

“See that you do, my friend. See that you do.”

 

It was rapidly approaching evening in Muonsol. One admired the sunset from one of the many windows of Muonsol Palace. He wondered idly if Mikaen and Tirinia were watching it together somewhere, perhaps from the balcony of one of the palace towers.

No one paid much attention to him. That was part of the beauty of being what he was; he looked just like a normal Galden. As long as he wore gloves and didn’t make a point to flaunt any of his abilities, no one was ever the wiser.

“One? Is that really you?”

Of course, there are always exceptions. This particular exception was Julia Cressia.

“Cygress Julia!” He exclaimed opening his arms. “Long time, no see!”

“It's been so long! Shame on you for not stopping by sooner!” She gave him a friendly hug and asked, “What brings you back here?”

“Business actually.” One told her. “You know that Mikaen guy?”

“My husband's old war buddy?” Realization set in her eyes. “Ah, I see; you're helping him.”

“Helping him to help himself, actually. Say, have you seen Teria Myssohn around?”

“She was in the library about five minutes ago.” Julia chuckled and added, “I had to persuade my son to quit pestering her before she took offense and his head with it.”

“Your son.” He shook his head, saying, “All my old friends have kids now. I feel old.”

“You look fine. In fact, you look the same as the last time we met, though as you’re a Dreamer, I’m sure that should hardly come as a surprise. Come on; I'll show you to the library.”

They set off down the corridor. As they walked, Julia chatted amicably about various things; mostly palace gossip that One didn’t have enough background information to fully comprehend. He nodded his head when he was expected to and said things like, “Uh-huh”, and ‘Go figure’, which seemed to keep Julia from being offended.

As they neared the library, Julia asked, “So, is Teria a big part of what you're doing with Mikaen?”

“Not quite.” One admitted. “She's ... well, she's an old friend of mine.”

“Oh?” A mischievous grin spread across her face. “I had no idea.”

“Me either.”

This drew a curious look from the Cygress, but thankfully she didn't pry.

Julia gave him a hug once they reached the palace library. “Make sure to say hello to Jyle after your little reunion with Teria. He’s been looking for you to pop in since Mikaen arrived.”

“Hey!” One called after her as she started to walk away. “No spreading rumors about me and Teria, okay?”

When she turned the look of innocence on her face looked so genuine that One almost fell for it. ““Now would I do something like that?”

Shaking his head, he approached the entrance to the library. Peeking through the open doorway, it didn’t take him long to find Teria sitting at one of the library tables, flipping impatiently through a book.

It was a perfect opportunity to catch Teria without her sister or Mikaen hanging about, and One knew it. Still, he felt oddly nervous about speaking to her; the only memories he had to go on were the night at Yuna Lake and escaping from the Sorceress Ackibar, and even those memories were incomplete. He still had no idea what he was going to say.

“Well, better get it over with,” he muttered to himself.

Taking a deep breath, One strode through the open door and approached the table where Teria sat. She didn’t look up at him; One had the distinct impression that she was ignoring him.

After a few minutes, One coughed politely.

“Oh, for Creator’s sake!” she said, still not looking at One, “Go pester someone else, Jek!”

“Since when have you been a reader?” The words came unbidden to One's mouth, an old taunt meant from a fragment of memory.

As Teria glanced up at him, her eyes went wide.

A sudden awkwardness came over One. Rubbing the back of his head, he said, “Hiya, Teria. Long time no see, huh?”

She continued to stare at him, her mouth hanging open slightly. One couldn't blame her; his words sounded woefully inadequate even to his ears.

His cheeks growing warm, One sat down beside her and glanced at the book she was reading. It was a historical account, one that he knew all too well.

“’The Summoner Ackibar’s attempt to conquer Ircandesta was defeated by the combined efforts of Jyle Cressia, Elduran Thistlethorn, and Reyl Val’Cien, although some claim that they were aided by a mysterious fourth man.’” He read aloud. Mild indignation won out over awkwardness for a few moments. “Oh, that's nice; I nearly stop Nocturnes from spilling out across Vinta, and all I get is ‘mysterious fourth man’? Talk about unfair.”

Without warning, Teria threw her arms around One in a hug that threatened to crack his ribs.

“Uh ...” One stammered as she nuzzled against his chest.

“I knew you'd come back.” Pulling away slightly, she looked him up and down. “Didn't think you'd keep me waiting so long, though. What took you so long, anyway?”

She stepped back and put her hands on her hips, giving him her best pout. “I mean, five years? I know you were wanting to make a name for yourself, but come on, Glen!”

“Five years for you, Teria. Closer to five-hundred for me.”

“What?” Chuckling, she pushed him lightly. “Yeah, right. Next you'll tell me you're a member of the Eternian Star.”

One chuckled uneasily at this; he had encountered members of the Eternian Star on a few occasions, not all of them good. Vinta's superheroes and heroines were not a group to cross, even for a member of the Elsewhere.

“Seriously, Glen, where the heck have you been? What happened the other night? Why are you dressed up like Narrator Number One?”

One could only stare in reply, which was in itself an answer to her question.

Teria's eyes went wide. Standing up from her chair, she said, “Wait, wait, wait ... really? You mean you're actually a-”

“-A Dreamer.” One flushed and rubbed the back of his head. “Yeah, well ... like I said, it's been a long time.”

One waited nervously for Teria's response. He wasn't sure what to expect, but it certainly wasn't for her to burst into laughter.

“Ha! By the Creator, you never do anything halfway, do you?” She grabbed his hand and deftly removed the glove. Her eyes shone by the faint light of his Anti-ka Maru.

Looking up at him, she said, “Tirinia's gonna flip. She's a sleeper, you know.”

“A Sleeper?” Mikaen asked curiously.

“Dreamer nut. Conventions, cosplay, fanfiction, the works. She even moderates a forum on the Weave.”

“So much for the Veil of Secrecy.” One muttered, making a mental note to have a word with Mom about the Sleepers.

“Yeah, I think they're nuts.” She paused and amended “Well, I thought they were nuts. I …”

Teria frowned, her gaze on something behind One. He turned to see pretty much everyone nearby staring at the two of them.

Teria's hand grabbed his. “C'mon; let's talk somewhere with less of an audience, hmm?”

“Good idea.”

They quickly walked out of the palace library and headed down the nearest passage until they were alone.

Teria smiled, punching One’s arm playfully. “So, what’s with the One?”

“Huh? Oh.” One waved it off, saying, “Two’s idea.”

“Tall guy, a bit gangly, stupid hat?”

One let out a laugh at this unflattering but accurate description. “Yeah, that's Two. He had pretended there was a Narrator Number One for ages, so it just seemed natural for me to take the name. Of course, I only learned later that he used the fictional One as a scapegoat.”

“Well, whatever you are, whoever you are, I’m glad you came back.” She tried to slip her hand into his, but he pulled away from her touch.

Taking a deep breath, he began, “Look, I have to tell you something that might be a little difficult to accept.”

“Oh.” Her face fell for a moment, but she quickly recovered. “It’s okay.”

“It is?”

“Yeah, I understand. I mean, five hundred years is a long time.”

She may have spoken in a casual tone, but One could tell she was upset.

Patting her on the shoulder, One assured her, “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got a friend reintegrating the memories into my subconscious.”

They walked for a few moments in silence before Tirinia abruptly stopped, giving One an odd look. “Wait, what?”

“Well, if I don’t have the memories integrated slowly, they all slam back in my head at once. That’s what happened the other night, by the way. He rubbed his head, adding, “Hurts just thinking about it.”

“Just what memories are you talking about?” She asked slowly.

One frowned. “My memories of you, from the first time we met.”

Teria looked as though she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You forgot me?”

“Well, no,” One said, chuckling uncomfortably. “Technically, I didn’t forget. I stored the memories.”

“You forgot me on purpose?!”

Before One could reply, she punched him hard enough to knock him into the wall. Steadying himself on a small table of knickknacks, he tried to apologize, but Teria was still fuming.

“When you said you had something to tell me, I expected you to say that you had a new girlfriend or something.”

She stopped as One averted his gaze. Her face tightening, she reared back to punch him again.

One barely dodged aside in time. “She’s not my girlfriend; I just really like her.”

Snarling, Teria took another swing at him.

Avoiding the hit by less than an inch, One decided his attempt to reconcile with Teria had failed and opted for a strategic retreat.

Teria close behind him, he ran down the hallway. As servants and butlers dodged out of the way, One tried to think of a way out. Instantly, a CPD sprang to life on a wall a few feet away, bursting open magically at his approach. Without a second thought or a care for what lay beyond, he leapt into the doorway.

The CPD has always displayed a willingness to aid a Dreamer in distress, providing a quick getaway for those who find themselves in a bit of a jam. Unfortunately, while the door's appearance is convenient, where it leads is always a bit of a gamble. One was reacquainted with this fact when he flew through the door and landed on the smooth metal surface of a long, steep, and especially twisty slide.

His momentum made any question of stopping impossible. The slide ran through a very tall chamber, swirling around and down and even up at times before dumping a now thoroughly disoriented One into a large pit of hollow, brightly colored plastic balls.

It took a minute for him to fight his way to the top of the pile. Breathing a sigh of relief, he started working his way to a door set into the side of the chamber when a sound from above made him freeze. he heard something thumping above him. One looked up in time to see Teria shooting from the slide toward him, claws-first.

With a shriek he barely recognized as his own, One fought his way to the door, Teria missing him by mere inches. A twist of the handle found him stumbling onto the floor of the Elsewhere Mansion known as 'The Bar'.

The Bar is the floor of Narrator Number Two, and looks as he thinks a bar should look: chairs and stools surrounding a polished mahogany counter, plenty of corner booths, an impressive selection of liquors both fine and foul, and a large television in the corner.

The Bar is usually bustling with norms, usually friends and acquaintances Two made during his infrequent assignments. With the aid of a special golden bottle cap, each norm was able to enter the bar from any bar in the mainstream. The actual size of the floor varies depending on how many people are occupying it; at that particular moment, it was roughly the size of a nice restaurant.

One burst through the door amidst a flurry of plastic balls, nearly knocking over Two in the process. What norms were nearby shouted his name, many hoisting up their glasses, tankards, or steins.

Closing the door before the rest of the balls could spill out, Two asked, “What’s the hurry?”

“Teria’s behind me, and she’s a little pissed off.” One said, looking for a place to hide.

Two's expression fell. “Teria Myssohn? Daughter of Longshore?”

One nodded.

“Oh boy.” Two turned to the barkeep. “Hey, Sam! Let One back there a sec, would ya?”

Teria burst from the door to the ball pit mere moments after One ducked behind the bar.

“Hey, look at you!” Two said, running his fingers along the brim of his hat cap as he sauntered up to Teria. “How about we slip off to The Observatory and take a look around the galaxy, kitten?”

Eyes narrowing, Teria planted a punch on his jaw that knocked into a gruff-looking fellow wearing a Viking helmet.

“Oy!” The man said, grabbing Two by the collar. “You trying to start somethin'?”

A wide grin split the man's face. “'Cause I'm game!”

“No, Thor, I-”

Thor punched Two clear across the bar into a table occupied by a party of space marines. After letting out a collective cry of outrage, the group lifted Two from the table and threw him off of the remains of their drinks.

“Bring it on!” Thor jeered, motioning for the angry marines to make their move. Unfortunately, this left Thor vulnerable to attack from behind, specifically from the little girl with the big hammer whose drink Thor had knocked over as he stood up.

The next few minutes wee a blur of punches and kicks as the brawl steadily grew. Pretty soon the entire bar was involved in the scuffle, save One and Sam.

Sighing, Sam said, “Great. There goes my morning. Last time we had a brawl, it took almost a month for it to finally clear out.”

“It could be worse.” One clapped his hands over his mouth, but it was too late; Teria's hands appeared above the counter, her face following a moment later.

“Uh, hi.” One said weakly as her eyes narrowed. She grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him over the counter.

“Sorceress Ackibar.” She hissed. “Keller Deviini. Granis Markeo. Did you forget them too, or was I the only one not important enough to remember?”

Before One could reply, a man in a tan overcoat bumped into her from behind. His face was mostly obscured by bandages and a large wide-brimmed hat.

As she turned to face the strange fellow, One managed to break free of her grip and make a run for the nearest door.

“Please don't be the hedge maze!” One breathed as his hand gripped the doorknob.

He opened the door and was relieved to see a small pit with a fire pole in the center. Knowing that Teria wouldn't be far behind him, he grabbed the pole and slid down. There was no way to tell how long the fire pole was (length varies depending on the gray room's position within the Elsewhere), so his eventual landing was nothing short of bone-jarring. Staggering slightly, he hurried toward the door at the bottom of the chamber.

Teach glanced up from his reading just in time to see One burst through the door and take off running into the Library.

Teria ran through the door a moment later, only seconds behind him. “YOU GET BACK HERE RIGHT NOW, GLEN!”

Startled by her shout, all the books on the shelves took flight and dove at Teria like a flock of startled birds.

As Teria struggled with the books, Teach let out a sigh and carefully marked his place in the book he was reading. “What happened?”

“It didn’t go so well!” One shouted over the din.

“I can see that.”

Shielding her head as much as possible, Teria slowly started walking toward One's general direction.

Teach quickly backed away. He shouted something that didn't quite make it over the sound of flapping pages. Teria dove at One, missing him by inches. With a yelp, One ran, heading toward two doors on the far side of the Library.

“Which door?” he asked himself, glancing worriedly behind him. The books had slowed her down, but she was still moving forward.

As he approached, another option appeared; no doubt in response to his desire to get away, the CPD appeared between the other two doors. Without a second thought, One seized the handle and flung the door open.

The CPD opened to the market district in Muonsol. He started to close the door, but something heavy pressed against it from the other side just before it shut.

Struggling, One glanced around for an escape. Everyone nearby was looking at him, some pointing at him as he tried to close a door that hadn’t been there a few moments ago.

His eyes fell on the doors to the Celestial Cathedral, distant but reachable. Nodding, he leapt away from the door and ran full tilt toward the massive stained-glass doors.

Teria fell out of the CPD, books still whacking her in the head as she pushed herself up and ran after him in pursuit. Though the books were gradually losing interest and returning to the Elsewhere via CPD, the crowd (much of which was now watching the strange chase) was thick enough to let him get some distance from his tigreth pursuer.

One had just reached the massive doors when he heard the CPD Slam on the other side of the square. Unable to see Teria in the crowd, he quickly ducked inside the church and nearly ran into Mikaen and Tirinia.

One’s sudden appearance took them both off-guard.

“One?” asked Mikaen, raising an eyebrow at the panting Dreamer.

Tirinia's eyes lit up immediately. “One the Dreamer? Oh my gosh, I was hoping I'd get the chance to-”

Without a word, One bolted down the aisle past Tirinia and Mikaen and ducked behind a white pew.

Mikaen glanced at Tirinia, his lips pursed to ask One what he was doing when the doors to the cathedral opened again, this time revealing a flushed Teria.

One watched her feet jog toward Mikaen and Tirinia. She called out, “Hey, Tyr! Mikaen!”

“Teria, this is a church!” Tirinia admonished her.

“Yeah, I’m sure the Creator’s gonna smite me. Either of you seen a guy in a green and gray-striped shirt?”

Mikaen and Tirinia glanced at each other. Over Tyr’s shoulder, Mikaen met One’s eyes. One shook his head, mouthing the words, “I’m not here!”

Shifting his eyes back to Tirinia, Mikaen said, “Haven’t seen him. Tyr?”

A ghost of a smile on her face, she replied, “Nope, not me.”

Teria let out her breath, running a hand through her dark brown hair. She walked toward them, glancing down the pews as she walked.

“Is something wrong?” Mikaen asked as she drew near to where One was hiding.

“Hmm? Oh, no, nothing wrong. I just want to have a word with him. No punching, just talking. Anyway, give me a call if he pops up, okay?”

With a final glance down the pew directly beside One, she turned and left.

Once the doors of the cathedral were once again shut, One stood and walked out from the pew, wiping the sweat from his brow.

Patting Mikaen on the shoulder, One said, “Thanks, man. I owe you one.”

“I’ll be sure to remember that.” Mikaen replied with a grin, “You gonna be okay?”

One nodded, leaning on his knees; he was still a little out of breath. He was a bit out of shape, a fact that he had realized just a bit too often as of late. One of the gray rooms was a gym; he made a mental note to hunt it down when he had a chance.

“Why was Teria chasing you?” Tirinia asked curiously.

“It's ...” One sighed. “Well, it’s complicated.”

“Well,” Mikaen said, putting an arm around Tirinia, “We were about to head off to grab a bite to eat. Hungry?”

“No thanks,” said One, walking toward the door, “I’d better get back to-”

Just what he was going to get back to was rattled from his mind as the partially open door abruptly slammed shut, knocking him back.

“What the-” he began when the door rattled again.

Now that he was standing next to the entrance, he could hear shouting from outside the cathedral. The door thumped again as someone was either thrown or pushed against it.

“By the Creator,” One muttered, “Now what?”

A crowd of idestan had gathered around the front doors of the cathedral, where two women were fighting. One of the fighters was Teria. To One’s astonishment, the other was Luck.

Teria was moved quickly, darting around with the speed you would expect of any champion of the Longshore Melee. As fast as she was, however, she was no match for Luck, who was always just a little bit faster.

The fight didn’t last much longer; as Teria stumbled forward after a failed kick, Luck spun behind her and knocked her to the ground.

A look of triumph on her face, Luck opened her mouth to speak when her eyes caught One’s surprised stare. Her face went from white to red in an instant. “Oh … One! I, um …” Her cheeks scarlet, she abruptly vanished.

One moved to help Teria up, but she just shoved away his proffered hand. “Get away from me, Dreamer!”

He stepped away, holding up his hands. “I just wanted to-”

“I said get lost!” She snapped as Tirinia helped her to her feet got to her feet. She shoved her sister’s arm away, snapping, “I’m fine! Let go of me!”

Tirinia quickly let go, shocked by her sister’s reaction.

Teria stomped away without a backwards glance, the crowd instinctively moving out of the angry tigreth's path.

“Teria!” With a quick kiss on Mikaen’s cheek, she ran after her sister.

As the crowd started to dissipate, many of the idestan looking at One with interest, Mikaen asked, “You gonna be okay?”

One nodded, but in truth he felt a little numb. Everything had gone horribly wrong, but seeing that look of anger and hatred on Teria’s face hurt more than anything else.

“I’m going back to the Elsewhere.” He managed to say, approaching a newly-formed CPD.

“You sure you’re okay?” Mikaen asked, looking worried.

One didn’t reply; he just walked to the CPD, opened it, and entered the Lobby.

29: Chapter 28 - A Meeting with Fate

One appeared inside the Library only to find the floor deserted. He stopped himself from calling out for the elder Dreamer; the library books have always been a bit temperamental, and some of those thicker tomes can really hurt.

As he approached the desk, One’s eyes caught on the black leather bound notebook that lay upon the counter. He was curious, but like many of the Elsewhere, One had more than one bad experience from carelessly picking up strange objects. After a quick glance around the Library turned up nothing more than a stray biography flapping around one of the ceiling lights, he sidled closer to the notebook and carefully opened it with one of the many pens lying on the counter.

“I saw him again today.” One read aloud, “He dispatched a few thugs at the high school before running off. I tried to catch him, but he always was too fast for me. Why didn’t he recognize me? None of this makes sense.”

The squeak of a doorknob made him look up from the notebook. He quickly closed the book moments before a door in the middle of a shelf of historical accounts swung open to reveal Teach and the Dreamer known as Karma.

Little sister to Fate and Luck and wife to Teach, Karma is every bit as pretty as the other so-called ‘Destiny Sisters’. She is a very modest woman; she wears long, serviceable dresses and speaks in a soft voice that can be heard over the loudest shout. She is probably the kindest, most gentle Dreamer in the entire Elsewhere.

She continued talking to Teach as they entered the Library. “I thought it was a little strange too. Fascinating, of course, but definitely odd to think that given the right circumstances …”

Teach stopped, spotting One. For just the barest of instants, One thought he saw a note of surprise in Teach’s face.

Abandoning the notebook, One approached the couple. “Hey, Teach. Hey Karma.”

“Hello, One.” Karma said kindly as she walked past One toward the private sections of the Library.

One waited until she had shut the door before turning to Teach. “Where did you two just come from?”

Teach answered, “Vinta. I wanted to see Mikaen for myself.”

Ignoring the mild indignation that came with the knowledge that Teach was checking up on him, One asked, “Well? How am I doing?”

“Assignment’s going well, I’d say. He was with Tirinia.”

One snorted. “That was the idea, wasn’t it? Speaking of which, I’ve got a question about the assignment.”

“Of course. Anything I can do to help out.”

“If you want to help, finish the assignment for me.” One replied wryly.

Teach chucked. “Anything save that, I’m afraid. What’s on your mind?”

One pulled the list Teach had given him from his pocket and set it on the desk, saying, “If I’m reading this right, I’m almost done.”

“Perhaps, or perhaps there’s still something else left to take care of.” Teach shrugged and started to sort through the stack of borrowed books left on the counter, “Remember, this list is just a guide. I know how much you like to improvise.”

One picked it up and looked at it again. “Says I just need to keep an eye on him for one more day. How much improvisation am I really gonna need?”

Their eyes met in the ensuing silence. One quickly raised his hands, saying, “Never mind; forget I asked.”

“Speaking of which; have you spoken with Teria yet?”

One glowered at Teach. “Because I forgot about her. Cute ... and no, I haven't.”

“Why not?” Teach asked, seeming genuinely confused. “I mean, who better to help stimulate those memories back into place?”

“I know.” said One, leaning forward so that his elbows rested on his knees, “It’s just … how do I tell her?”

“About losing your memories?” Teach asked. At One's nod, the elder Dreamer looked thoughtful. “I honestly don’t know what to tell you. If there was something between you two, she could react in anger or resentment … or she could just kiss you again.”

“That’s the problem,” One sighed. “I loved her. I only have one memory of our time together, but I know we were more than just friends.”

“I sense a ‘but’ coming.” said Teach.

One absently scratched the back of his rune hand. He felt awkward talking about this, especially with another Dreamer. It was hard to keep a secret in the Elsewhere, harder still if said secret involved other Dreamers.

Teach prodded, “Go on. You have my word that whatever you say stays between us.”

“I know that Teria and I could be as close as we were before. I don’t have anything with Luck, but I think I could if I get the nerve up to tell her. The problem is that I like both of them. Half of me thinks I should go for Teria, the other half is rooting for Luck, and quite frankly, I don’t know what to do.” Chuckling, he added, “and unlike Two, I know I can’t have both.”

Teach chuckled at this. “Indeed. You’ve always had a stronger sense of morality than Two … than most of the Elsewhere Incorporate, for that matter.”

“So what do I do?” One asked, a sliver of desperation in his voice.

Teach tapped the cover of one of the books thoughtfully. “I'm not sure what to tell you. Being in a relationship with another Dreamer can be both a blessing and a curse given our longevity. On the other hand, a relationship with a norm can tie a Dreamer to a particular world. That too isn't necessarily a bad thing either, but soon or later every norm dies.” After a brief pause, he added, “I honestly don't know what to tell you, One, other than to advise not being hasty. Get to know Teria again, spend time with Luck, and think about what it would be like to stay with them for a while, for years, for decades. Consider the possibilities, that's what always advise.”

“For the moment, however,” said Teach, sitting back in his chair, “You can’t just go around avoiding Teria. It wouldn’t be fair to her, and ultimately would only jeopardize the mission. For the moment, I believe you should just tell her the truth.”

“Including Luck?”

Teach was silent for a long moment. Perhaps he realized the gravity of the situation; perhaps he was taken off-guard by the trust One was showing him.

“For the time being, I believe you should not tell her about your feelings with Luck. It could complicate matters worse than not telling her anything. Just tell her about your memory problem, and try not to do anything that might lead her on for the time being.”

“Thanks for the advice.” One said gratefully as he rose from his chair. “I'll think on it.”

“See that you do, my friend. See that you do.”

 

It was rapidly approaching evening in Muonsol. One admired the sunset from one of the many windows of Muonsol Palace. He wondered idly if Mikaen and Tirinia were watching it together somewhere, perhaps from the balcony of one of the palace towers.

No one paid much attention to him. That was part of the beauty of being what he was; he looked just like a normal Galden. As long as he wore gloves and didn’t make a point to flaunt any of his abilities, no one was ever the wiser.

“One? Is that really you?”

Of course, there are always exceptions. This particular exception was Julia Cressia.

“Cygress Julia!” He exclaimed opening his arms. “Long time, no see!”

“It's been so long! Shame on you for not stopping by sooner!” She gave him a friendly hug and asked, “What brings you back here?”

“Business actually.” One told her. “You know that Mikaen guy?”

“My husband's old war buddy?” Realization set in her eyes. “Ah, I see; you're helping him.”

“Helping him to help himself, actually. Say, have you seen Teria Myssohn around?”

“She was in the library about five minutes ago.” Julia chuckled and added, “I had to persuade my son to quit pestering her before she took offense and his head with it.”

“Your son.” He shook his head, saying, “All my old friends have kids now. I feel old.”

“You look fine. In fact, you look the same as the last time we met, though as you’re a Dreamer, I’m sure that should hardly come as a surprise. Come on; I'll show you to the library.”

They set off down the corridor. As they walked, Julia chatted amicably about various things; mostly palace gossip that One didn’t have enough background information to fully comprehend. He nodded his head when he was expected to and said things like, “Uh-huh”, and ‘Go figure’, which seemed to keep Julia from being offended.

As they neared the library, Julia asked, “So, is Teria a big part of what you're doing with Mikaen?”

“Not quite.” One admitted. “She's ... well, she's an old friend of mine.”

“Oh?” A mischievous grin spread across her face. “I had no idea.”

“Me either.”

This drew a curious look from the Cygress, but thankfully she didn't pry.

Julia gave him a hug once they reached the palace library. “Make sure to say hello to Jyle after your little reunion with Teria. He’s been looking for you to pop in since Mikaen arrived.”

“Hey!” One called after her as she started to walk away. “No spreading rumors about me and Teria, okay?”

When she turned the look of innocence on her face looked so genuine that One almost fell for it. ““Now would I do something like that?”

Shaking his head, he approached the entrance to the library. Peeking through the open doorway, it didn’t take him long to find Teria sitting at one of the library tables, flipping impatiently through a book.

It was a perfect opportunity to catch Teria without her sister or Mikaen hanging about, and One knew it. Still, he felt oddly nervous about speaking to her; the only memories he had to go on were the night at Yuna Lake and escaping from the Sorceress Ackibar, and even those memories were incomplete. He still had no idea what he was going to say.

“Well, better get it over with,” he muttered to himself.

Taking a deep breath, One strode through the open door and approached the table where Teria sat. She didn’t look up at him; One had the distinct impression that she was ignoring him.

After a few minutes, One coughed politely.

“Oh, for Creator’s sake!” she said, still not looking at One, “Go pester someone else, Jek!”

“Since when have you been a reader?” The words came unbidden to One's mouth, an old taunt meant from a fragment of memory.

As Teria glanced up at him, her eyes went wide.

A sudden awkwardness came over One. Rubbing the back of his head, he said, “Hiya, Teria. Long time no see, huh?”

She continued to stare at him, her mouth hanging open slightly. One couldn't blame her; his words sounded woefully inadequate even to his ears.

His cheeks growing warm, One sat down beside her and glanced at the book she was reading. It was a historical account, one that he knew all too well.

“’The Summoner Ackibar’s attempt to conquer Ircandesta was defeated by the combined efforts of Jyle Cressia, Elduran Thistlethorn, and Reyl Val’Cien, although some claim that they were aided by a mysterious fourth man.’” He read aloud. Mild indignation won out over awkwardness for a few moments. “Oh, that's nice; I nearly stop Nocturnes from spilling out across Vinta, and all I get is ‘mysterious fourth man’? Talk about unfair.”

Without warning, Teria threw her arms around One in a hug that threatened to crack his ribs.

“Uh ...” One stammered as she nuzzled against his chest.

“I knew you'd come back.” Pulling away slightly, she looked him up and down. “Didn't think you'd keep me waiting so long, though. What took you so long, anyway?”

She stepped back and put her hands on her hips, giving him her best pout. “I mean, five years? I know you were wanting to make a name for yourself, but come on, Glen!”

“Five years for you, Teria. Closer to five-hundred for me.”

“What?” Chuckling, she pushed him lightly. “Yeah, right. Next you'll tell me you're a member of the Eternian Star.”

One chuckled uneasily at this; he had encountered members of the Eternian Star on a few occasions, not all of them good. Vinta's superheroes and heroines were not a group to cross, even for a member of the Elsewhere.

“Seriously, Glen, where the heck have you been? What happened the other night? Why are you dressed up like Narrator Number One?”

One could only stare in reply, which was in itself an answer to her question.

Teria's eyes went wide. Standing up from her chair, she said, “Wait, wait, wait ... really? You mean you're actually a-”

“-A Dreamer.” One flushed and rubbed the back of his head. “Yeah, well ... like I said, it's been a long time.”

One waited nervously for Teria's response. He wasn't sure what to expect, but it certainly wasn't for her to burst into laughter.

“Ha! By the Creator, you never do anything halfway, do you?” She grabbed his hand and deftly removed the glove. Her eyes shone by the faint light of his Anti-ka Maru.

Looking up at him, she said, “Tirinia's gonna flip. She's a sleeper, you know.”

“A Sleeper?” Mikaen asked curiously.

“Dreamer nut. Conventions, cosplay, fanfiction, the works. She even moderates a forum on the Weave.”

“So much for the Veil of Secrecy.” One muttered, making a mental note to have a word with Mom about the Sleepers.

“Yeah, I think they're nuts.” She paused and amended “Well, I thought they were nuts. I …”

Teria frowned, her gaze on something behind One. He turned to see pretty much everyone nearby staring at the two of them.

Teria's hand grabbed his. “C'mon; let's talk somewhere with less of an audience, hmm?”

“Good idea.”

They quickly walked out of the palace library and headed down the nearest passage until they were alone.

Teria smiled, punching One’s arm playfully. “So, what’s with the One?”

“Huh? Oh.” One waved it off, saying, “Two’s idea.”

“Tall guy, a bit gangly, stupid hat?”

One let out a laugh at this unflattering but accurate description. “Yeah, that's Two. He had pretended there was a Narrator Number One for ages, so it just seemed natural for me to take the name. Of course, I only learned later that he used the fictional One as a scapegoat.”

“Well, whatever you are, whoever you are, I’m glad you came back.” She tried to slip her hand into his, but he pulled away from her touch.

Taking a deep breath, he began, “Look, I have to tell you something that might be a little difficult to accept.”

“Oh.” Her face fell for a moment, but she quickly recovered. “It’s okay.”

“It is?”

“Yeah, I understand. I mean, five hundred years is a long time.”

She may have spoken in a casual tone, but One could tell she was upset.

Patting her on the shoulder, One assured her, “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got a friend reintegrating the memories into my subconscious.”

They walked for a few moments in silence before Tirinia abruptly stopped, giving One an odd look. “Wait, what?”

“Well, if I don’t have the memories integrated slowly, they all slam back in my head at once. That’s what happened the other night, by the way. He rubbed his head, adding, “Hurts just thinking about it.”

“Just what memories are you talking about?” She asked slowly.

One frowned. “My memories of you, from the first time we met.”

Teria looked as though she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You forgot me?”

“Well, no,” One said, chuckling uncomfortably. “Technically, I didn’t forget. I stored the memories.”

“You forgot me on purpose?!”

Before One could reply, she punched him hard enough to knock him into the wall. Steadying himself on a small table of knickknacks, he tried to apologize, but Teria was still fuming.

“When you said you had something to tell me, I expected you to say that you had a new girlfriend or something.”

She stopped as One averted his gaze. Her face tightening, she reared back to punch him again.

One barely dodged aside in time. “She’s not my girlfriend; I just really like her.”

Snarling, Teria took another swing at him.

Avoiding the hit by less than an inch, One decided his attempt to reconcile with Teria had failed and opted for a strategic retreat.

Teria close behind him, he ran down the hallway. As servants and butlers dodged out of the way, One tried to think of a way out. Instantly, a CPD sprang to life on a wall a few feet away, bursting open magically at his approach. Without a second thought or a care for what lay beyond, he leapt into the doorway.

The CPD has always displayed a willingness to aid a Dreamer in distress, providing a quick getaway for those who find themselves in a bit of a jam. Unfortunately, while the door's appearance is convenient, where it leads is always a bit of a gamble. One was reacquainted with this fact when he flew through the door and landed on the smooth metal surface of a long, steep, and especially twisty slide.

His momentum made any question of stopping impossible. The slide ran through a very tall chamber, swirling around and down and even up at times before dumping a now thoroughly disoriented One into a large pit of hollow, brightly colored plastic balls.

It took a minute for him to fight his way to the top of the pile. Breathing a sigh of relief, he started working his way to a door set into the side of the chamber when a sound from above made him freeze. he heard something thumping above him. One looked up in time to see Teria shooting from the slide toward him, claws-first.

With a shriek he barely recognized as his own, One fought his way to the door, Teria missing him by mere inches. A twist of the handle found him stumbling onto the floor of the Elsewhere Mansion known as 'The Bar'.

The Bar is the floor of Narrator Number Two, and looks as he thinks a bar should look: chairs and stools surrounding a polished mahogany counter, plenty of corner booths, an impressive selection of liquors both fine and foul, and a large television in the corner.

The Bar is usually bustling with norms, usually friends and acquaintances Two made during his infrequent assignments. With the aid of a special golden bottle cap, each norm was able to enter the bar from any bar in the mainstream. The actual size of the floor varies depending on how many people are occupying it; at that particular moment, it was roughly the size of a nice restaurant.

One burst through the door amidst a flurry of plastic balls, nearly knocking over Two in the process. What norms were nearby shouted his name, many hoisting up their glasses, tankards, or steins.

Closing the door before the rest of the balls could spill out, Two asked, “What’s the hurry?”

“Teria’s behind me, and she’s a little pissed off.” One said, looking for a place to hide.

Two's expression fell. “Teria Myssohn? Daughter of Longshore?”

One nodded.

“Oh boy.” Two turned to the barkeep. “Hey, Sam! Let One back there a sec, would ya?”

Teria burst from the door to the ball pit mere moments after One ducked behind the bar.

“Hey, look at you!” Two said, running his fingers along the brim of his hat cap as he sauntered up to Teria. “How about we slip off to The Observatory and take a look around the galaxy, kitten?”

Eyes narrowing, Teria planted a punch on his jaw that knocked into a gruff-looking fellow wearing a Viking helmet.

“Oy!” The man said, grabbing Two by the collar. “You trying to start somethin'?”

A wide grin split the man's face. “'Cause I'm game!”

“No, Thor, I-”

Thor punched Two clear across the bar into a table occupied by a party of space marines. After letting out a collective cry of outrage, the group lifted Two from the table and threw him off of the remains of their drinks.

“Bring it on!” Thor jeered, motioning for the angry marines to make their move. Unfortunately, this left Thor vulnerable to attack from behind, specifically from the little girl with the big hammer whose drink Thor had knocked over as he stood up.

The next few minutes wee a blur of punches and kicks as the brawl steadily grew. Pretty soon the entire bar was involved in the scuffle, save One and Sam.

Sighing, Sam said, “Great. There goes my morning. Last time we had a brawl, it took almost a month for it to finally clear out.”

“It could be worse.” One clapped his hands over his mouth, but it was too late; Teria's hands appeared above the counter, her face following a moment later.

“Uh, hi.” One said weakly as her eyes narrowed. She grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him over the counter.

“Sorceress Ackibar.” She hissed. “Keller Deviini. Granis Markeo. Did you forget them too, or was I the only one not important enough to remember?”

Before One could reply, a man in a tan overcoat bumped into her from behind. His face was mostly obscured by bandages and a large wide-brimmed hat.

As she turned to face the strange fellow, One managed to break free of her grip and make a run for the nearest door.

“Please don't be the hedge maze!” One breathed as his hand gripped the doorknob.

He opened the door and was relieved to see a small pit with a fire pole in the center. Knowing that Teria wouldn't be far behind him, he grabbed the pole and slid down. There was no way to tell how long the fire pole was (length varies depending on the gray room's position within the Elsewhere), so his eventual landing was nothing short of bone-jarring. Staggering slightly, he hurried toward the door at the bottom of the chamber.

Teach glanced up from his reading just in time to see One burst through the door and take off running into the Library.

Teria ran through the door a moment later, only seconds behind him. “YOU GET BACK HERE RIGHT NOW, GLEN!”

Startled by her shout, all the books on the shelves took flight and dove at Teria like a flock of startled birds.

As Teria struggled with the books, Teach let out a sigh and carefully marked his place in the book he was reading. “What happened?”

“It didn’t go so well!” One shouted over the din.

“I can see that.”

Shielding her head as much as possible, Teria slowly started walking toward One's general direction.

Teach quickly backed away. He shouted something that didn't quite make it over the sound of flapping pages. Teria dove at One, missing him by inches. With a yelp, One ran, heading toward two doors on the far side of the Library.

“Which door?” he asked himself, glancing worriedly behind him. The books had slowed her down, but she was still moving forward.

As he approached, another option appeared; no doubt in response to his desire to get away, the CPD appeared between the other two doors. Without a second thought, One seized the handle and flung the door open.

The CPD opened to the market district in Muonsol. He started to close the door, but something heavy pressed against it from the other side just before it shut.

Struggling, One glanced around for an escape. Everyone nearby was looking at him, some pointing at him as he tried to close a door that hadn’t been there a few moments ago.

His eyes fell on the doors to the Celestial Cathedral, distant but reachable. Nodding, he leapt away from the door and ran full tilt toward the massive stained-glass doors.

Teria fell out of the CPD, books still whacking her in the head as she pushed herself up and ran after him in pursuit. Though the books were gradually losing interest and returning to the Elsewhere via CPD, the crowd (much of which was now watching the strange chase) was thick enough to let him get some distance from his tigreth pursuer.

One had just reached the massive doors when he heard the CPD Slam on the other side of the square. Unable to see Teria in the crowd, he quickly ducked inside the church and nearly ran into Mikaen and Tirinia.

One’s sudden appearance took them both off-guard.

“One?” asked Mikaen, raising an eyebrow at the panting Dreamer.

Tirinia's eyes lit up immediately. “One the Dreamer? Oh my gosh, I was hoping I'd get the chance to-”

Without a word, One bolted down the aisle past Tirinia and Mikaen and ducked behind a white pew.

Mikaen glanced at Tirinia, his lips pursed to ask One what he was doing when the doors to the cathedral opened again, this time revealing a flushed Teria.

One watched her feet jog toward Mikaen and Tirinia. She called out, “Hey, Tyr! Mikaen!”

“Teria, this is a church!” Tirinia admonished her.

“Yeah, I’m sure the Creator’s gonna smite me. Either of you seen a guy in a green and gray-striped shirt?”

Mikaen and Tirinia glanced at each other. Over Tyr’s shoulder, Mikaen met One’s eyes. One shook his head, mouthing the words, “I’m not here!”

Shifting his eyes back to Tirinia, Mikaen said, “Haven’t seen him. Tyr?”

A ghost of a smile on her face, she replied, “Nope, not me.”

Teria let out her breath, running a hand through her dark brown hair. She walked toward them, glancing down the pews as she walked.

“Is something wrong?” Mikaen asked as she drew near to where One was hiding.

“Hmm? Oh, no, nothing wrong. I just want to have a word with him. No punching, just talking. Anyway, give me a call if he pops up, okay?”

With a final glance down the pew directly beside One, she turned and left.

Once the doors of the cathedral were once again shut, One stood and walked out from the pew, wiping the sweat from his brow.

Patting Mikaen on the shoulder, One said, “Thanks, man. I owe you one.”

“I’ll be sure to remember that.” Mikaen replied with a grin, “You gonna be okay?”

One nodded, leaning on his knees; he was still a little out of breath. He was a bit out of shape, a fact that he had realized just a bit too often as of late. One of the gray rooms was a gym; he made a mental note to hunt it down when he had a chance.

“Why was Teria chasing you?” Tirinia asked curiously.

“It's ...” One sighed. “Well, it’s complicated.”

“Well,” Mikaen said, putting an arm around Tirinia, “We were about to head off to grab a bite to eat. Hungry?”

“No thanks,” said One, walking toward the door, “I’d better get back to-”

Just what he was going to get back to was rattled from his mind as the partially open door abruptly slammed shut, knocking him back.

“What the-” he began when the door rattled again.

Now that he was standing next to the entrance, he could hear shouting from outside the cathedral. The door thumped again as someone was either thrown or pushed against it.

“By the Creator,” One muttered, “Now what?”

A crowd of idestan had gathered around the front doors of the cathedral, where two women were fighting. One of the fighters was Teria. To One’s astonishment, the other was Luck.

Teria was moved quickly, darting around with the speed you would expect of any champion of the Longshore Melee. As fast as she was, however, she was no match for Luck, who was always just a little bit faster.

The fight didn’t last much longer; as Teria stumbled forward after a failed kick, Luck spun behind her and knocked her to the ground.

A look of triumph on her face, Luck opened her mouth to speak when her eyes caught One’s surprised stare. Her face went from white to red in an instant. “Oh … One! I, um …” Her cheeks scarlet, she abruptly vanished.

One moved to help Teria up, but she just shoved away his proffered hand. “Get away from me, Dreamer!”

He stepped away, holding up his hands. “I just wanted to-”

“I said get lost!” She snapped as Tirinia helped her to her feet got to her feet. She shoved her sister’s arm away, snapping, “I’m fine! Let go of me!”

Tirinia quickly let go, shocked by her sister’s reaction.

Teria stomped away without a backwards glance, the crowd instinctively moving out of the angry tigreth's path.

“Teria!” With a quick kiss on Mikaen’s cheek, she ran after her sister.

As the crowd started to dissipate, many of the idestan looking at One with interest, Mikaen asked, “You gonna be okay?”

One nodded, but in truth he felt a little numb. Everything had gone horribly wrong, but seeing that look of anger and hatred on Teria’s face hurt more than anything else.

“I’m going back to the Elsewhere.” He managed to say, approaching a newly-formed CPD.

“You sure you’re okay?” Mikaen asked, looking worried.

One didn’t reply; he just walked to the CPD, opened it, and entered the Lobby.

30: Chapter 29 - Flipside

Once again on his own, One approached the nearest wall and walked through a CPD into the Shoran tower of Muonsol Palace. The main room was much like that of the vuestan tower; there was a large tree in the center, surrounded by benches and chairs. There were a few computer consoles as well, but not nearly as many as were in the Galden tower.

One scratched his head, wondering which of the six identical doors lead to Teria's room.

Shrugging, he walked to the first door on the right, straightened his shirt, and tapped on the knocker.

Moments later, the door next to him opened, revealing a striking pair of wide, purple eyes. “One?”

“Oh! Sorry, Tirinia, I was looking for your sister.”

Tirinia shook her head. “I’m sorry. I haven’t been able to find her since the marketplace.”

“Probably still royally pissed at me.” One shook his head before giving Tirinia a kind smile. “Thanks, Tyr. Take it easy, okay?”

“Oh, please don’t go!” Tirinia opened the door so he could come in, “I was hoping to have a chance to speak with you.”

“Sorry,” One said, “I love a good conversation, but I really need to see Teria.”

Tirinia quickly blocked his path. “Then wait and talk with me until she gets here. It's not every day I get the chance to talk to a Dreamer.”

One raised an eyebrow. “I thought you were supposed to be all shy and timid.”

“Well, it's not like we're strangers.” Tirinia leaned forward and whispered in his right ear, “Right, Glen?”

One’s eyes widened. “On second thought, I’d be happy to have a word with you.”

Bowing his head, One stepped past Tirinia into the room.

The Shoran guest quarters were surprisingly similar to the Galden quarters. Actually, it wasn’t really all that surprising; the Galden and the Shoran tribes have always been pretty close in terms of sociological development, though Shoran technology was still a bit behind that of Ronisgald.

There were differences of course; the bed had a thick, furry comforter, and the computer was less sophisticated, but aside from that, the rooms matched the Galden guest rooms perfectly.

“You know,” said One, looking at the bed, “I’ve always wondered why the Shoran prefer beds with fur blankets.”

“I don’t know if it’s the same with everyone, but when I sleep in fur blankets, I feel like I’m in my mother’s embrace.” A wistful look fell over Tirinia's face, but she didn't say anything else.

“Sounds nice.” Coughing, One said, “Look, I'm gonna be honest; I don't remember you.”

“I know. Mikaen told me about your memory problems.” She tilted her head to the side. “Do you remember anything from that time?”

One looked at her. As pleasant as she was to look at, what with her strong build, her gorgeous face, and her ample bosom, he couldn’t recall having seen her before … or had he? Even as he was looking at her, an image formed in his mind of a young Tirinia running to her sister’s arms. Smiling, One said, “Yeah, I do. You ran out and hugged Teria after that mess with the Sorceress Ackibar.”

Tirinia’s smile broadened. “You have no idea how happy bringing Teria home made me, though to be honest, at the time I was a little afraid of you.”

“Because I was a Galden?”

“Not really. I was just shy. I still am, really. Still, a warmed up to you by the end.” She let out an embarrassed laugh. “You and Teria were the only people who ever listened to me.”

After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, One asked, “Tirinia, how did it end?”

Sighing, she said, “I don’t know the details. I just remember Teria coming home really late that night looking like she had been crying. I asked her what happened, but she never said.”

“Maybe that’s because it wasn’t any of your business.”

One and Tirinia both jumped as Teria slammed the door behind her.

Glancing back at Teria, One said, “Whoa. I didn’t even hear the door open.”

Teria continued to glare at One. That horrible look of hatred was still in her eyes. “What do you want now, Dreamer?”

Wincing at the way she spat the word ‘Dreamer’, One replied, “I was looking for you.”

“Oh? Not content to just mess around with Mikaen, are we?”

A little annoyed, One said, “I’m not here to cause anyone any trouble, Teria.”

“Hmpf. Y'know, I've heard about your kind. Meddling with us ‘norms’ and pretending to be gods.”

One swallowed an angry retort. “It’s not like that. We help people who need help, that’s all … and we are definitely not gods.”

“He saved Mom’s life!” Tirinia blurted out.

The shock of that announcement was enough to keep Teria silent…for a few seconds, anyway. “What are you talking about? I know mom was sick while she was carrying me, but-”

A light clicked on in One's head. “Wait, you mean Saera? She's your mother?”

Teria stared at him, disbelief in her eyes. “Saera Glissbet?”

“Yeah, I remember her! Heck of a Slamm player in her day too, as I recall.” One nodded at Tirinia adding, “Runs in the family from what I've heard.”

Tirinia blushed at his praise even as Teria's expression grew dourer.

Sighing, One said, “To be honest, it was really just a lucky coincidence. I was supposed to be helping an idestan guy in the burn ward, but I got lost and ended up near your mother's room instead. I recognized her and went in to say hello.”

“And cured a hitherto incurable disease.” Tirinia said, beaming.

One shrugged, trying to play it off as though it were nothing. “Well, she did have a baby on the way. It'd be awfully jerkish of me to just leave her like that when I had an elixer in my pocket.”

“And the burn guy?” Teria asked, looking stern. “You just let him die?”

“Rosen? Nah, he wasn't a burn victim; he just worked there. His mother had recently died, and he was feeling a bit glum.”

Teria gave him a flat glare. “You just talked to him?”

“Well, yeah. Sometimes all a guy or gal really needs is someone to talk to. Or someone to listen.” One shrugged again. “Not the most exciting of assignments, but there you go.”

Teria crossed her arms and faced One dead on. “So you’ve been messing with my family for a while, huh?”

Angry words jumped to One’s mind. He did not like being cast as manipulative, even if it was the case. Still, he was here to apologize properly, not to start a fight. “No, I haven't ... and I wasn't messing with you, Teria. I remember that much at least.

“Then why are you here?” Teria demanded, her hands on her hips. “If you wanted to forget me so damn bad, then why come back at all?”

Taking a deep breath, One said, “Well, for starters, I’m here to apologize.”

Teria’s eyes went wide as One continued, “We were close, I know. I may not know how close, or remember much of the context of our time together, but seeing you look this angry ... it bothers me, Teria. And yeah, I do still care about you. Why do you think I started remembering? Why do you think I'm here now? I’m sorry I forgot you, Teria. I don't know why I chose to forget, but I really wish I hadn't. I hope you can believe that.”

One blushed and rubbed the back of his head again nervously. “Look, I'm not asking for things to go back to what they were, and I'm definitely not expecting you to still want me as your first after all this. Still, I hope we can at least be friends.”

Teria didn’t reply. She wouldn't even look at him. Tirinia's gaze shifted between her sister and One, anxiously fidgeting with her hands as though she wanted to do something but couldn't figure out exactly what.

After a minute of silence, One nodded. “You don’t have to say anything. I’ll go.”

One gave Tirinia a nod. “I’m trusting you to keep Mikaen out of trouble when I’m not here, okay?”

She cracked a smile. “I’ll do my best.”

One looked to Teria, but she had turned her back to him. H started to say something, but he really couldn't think of anything else to say. With a final sigh, he left the room and closed the door behind him.

Trying to ignore the empty feeling in his chest, he started to head toward the newly formed CPD when he heard a nearby potted bush rustle.

Sighing, he said, “I guess you heard everything, huh?”

Jeronem shuffled out from behind the bush, looking strangely solemn. “She’s crying, you know.”

He looked back at the closed door. In his mind’s eye, he could see Tirinia comforting Teria. Even just imagining it filled him with guilt.

“I … I feel horrible. She must hate me.” He said quietly.

Jeronem smiled and stood on his tiptoes to give one a reassuring pat on his slumped shoulders. “She doesn’t hate you; it’s just the whole memory thing’s a bit of a shock.”

One’s heart lifted slightly. “Really? Cause right now, I’m thinking she still wants to beat the crap outta me.”

“She’s a tigreth, dude. Aggression is a part of tigreth intimacy.”

The laugh came to One's mouth, but he merely smiled instead. “Did you just call me ‘dude’?”

“Yeah, I did. So what? I picked it up from Mikaen.” Jeronem snapped his fingers. “Tell you what; tigreth are supposed to respect strength, right? Why don’t you help us sneak out of the palace tonight?”

“How did you-” One narrowed his gaze at the young vuestan. “You’ve picked up a few of your dad’s bad habits, you know that?”

Jeronem grabbed One’s sleeve and started tugging on it. “Come on, tell me what’s going on!”

“Nothing.” One tried hard not to think about specifics but his mental control wasn’t particularly strong, especially when compared to that of a curious vuestan.

Jeronem’s eyes went wide. “No way!”

Shaking his head, One muttered, “Well, I guess you’d have just followed Mikaen anyway.”

“And that’s gonna happen tonight, right? What time? What kind of spells should I get ready?”

Unable to suppress a smile at Jeronem’s enthusiasm, One knelt beside him and whispered, “He’s gonna sneak out around midnight. You might want to have a few stealth spells ready. Miraak's silver cloak, moonbeam melody, maybe even a limited Veil of Silence.”

Jeronem nodded. “Inviso, songshot, and not here. Got it.”

One ruffled his hair. “Good.”

Jeronem ducked under the Dreamers hand and ran off down the corridor, his long tail bobbing behind him.

“He’s certainly excited.” said a voice from behind One.

One turned to see Teach close the CPD behind him and approach. “Just told him about the evening entertainment, right?”

“Does having someone read your mind count as telling?” One shook his head and headed for the CPD without waiting for an answer.

Teach asked, “How did your meeting with Teria go?”

One shook his head as the image of her crying passed through his mind. “I’ll have to earn her trust again if I want her help.”

Teach smiled reassuringly at One. “That won’t be a problem for you. I’m sure you two will be as thick as thieves in no time. Maybe closer, if you're still thinking about rekindling your old romance.”

One smiled back, comforted and slightly surprised at Teach’s praise.

“Tell you what,” Teach said, walking One to the CPD, “Why don’t you go ahead and turn in for a bit? I’ll keep an eye on things for you here.”

“But I don’t-”

Teach shooed him through the door. “Nonsense! If you don’t rest, you won’t be ready for the big fight.”

One stopped Teach. “Wait a sec, I didn’t say I was going!”

“Well, aren’t you?”

Rolling his eyes, One said, “Yeah, but-”

“Good. Now, go get some rest. Go watch a movie or play one of those games you and Two are so fond of.”

Before One could respond, Teach pushed him through the CPD into the Matinee.

One turned around in time to see the door vanish. Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair, muttering, “I guess I could use a break.”

The Matinee was currently in its evening phase; the lights were dim, the stars shone through the open windows, and the television was currently off. Most importantly however, he was the only person there.

It was a strange feeling, after being among people for so long. Taking off his shoes and socks, One wandered around his floor, enjoying the feeling of the plush carpet rubbing against his bare feet as he glanced through the shelves for something to watch or play.

He had almost decided on something when he heard someone knock on one of his doors.

Ignoring the interruption, One chose a movie and headed to the television. Whoever it was knocked again as he put the movie into the player, and again as he sat down with the remote.

The fourth knock came just as One was about to start the movie. Sighing, he put down the remote. “What?”

A muffled voice replied, “One? Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“No one’s here right now.”

“Then who am I talking to?”

“The quiet voice of your own insecurities?”

A moment of silence passed.

“Please?”

“Look, I’m just tired. Can whatever it is wait until tomorrow?”

The door slowly opened.

Annoyed, One stood and turned, saying, “Can’t I get one moment of peace without someone just barging in to my-”

His voice fell flat as Luck approached, a hurt look on her face. “I just wanted to see if you were okay.”

The anger drained from One’s face. Sighing, he fell back into the couch. “I’m sorry, Luck. It’s been a long day. I don't mind you being here.”

Smiling timidly, Luck took off her shoes and walked quietly over to the massive television panel. Sitting beside One with her feet curled beneath her, she watched the movie with him in silence for a few minutes.

“I didn’t know you liked this movie.” She commented idly during a lull in the on-screen action.

“It’s a classic story of good versus evil, a classic love story, and it has a happy ending. That’s important.” Smiling, One added, “Mikaen said the same thing to Tirinia earlier.”

“About what?”

“About stories needing to have happy endings. I agree with him. People say that life isn’t fair, but that’s bullcrap; life is plenty fair. It’s the people who aren’t fair. If more people believed in happy endings, there’d be a lot more of ‘em.”

“I agree.” She smiled at him.

As they continued watching the movie, One couldn’t help but notice Luck glancing at him every few minutes.

Finally, she asked, “One, are you feeling all right?”

One shrugged in what he hoped was a carefree way. “I feel the same as I ever do.”

“You look tired.” Luck put a hand to One’s forehead, her usually smiling face filled with concern.

One gently took her hand by the wrist. “I’m fine, really. It’s just been a long day. I appreciate the thought though.”

Luck blushed, saying, “I just worry about you. You do so much, but you never seem to think about yourself.”

“You kidding? I think about myself all the time. When I’m helping someone, it makes me happy. Take this situation with Mikaen and Tirinia; when I’m done, and Mikaen’s finished his little adventure, he and that girl are going to be married and happy. And I’m gonna be there to see them married. I’m gonna eat the food, maybe dance a little, perhaps even give ‘em some nice fireworks when they leave for their honeymoon.”

“Is that a promise?” Luck asked.

One chuckled. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

They sat in silence for a long moment.

“You’re tired. I’ll leave.” Luck uncurled her feet from under her and tried unsuccessfully to stand up.

One caught her before she could fall. Luck blushed, but didn’t avert her gaze from his.

“You don’t have to go.” He told her. “Stay, watch a movie. Eat some popcorn.” He gave her his best smile, “Throw it at me, if you want.”

 It was the closest thing to a pass One had ever made to Luck, and as calm as he looked, his heart felt like it was about to burst out of his chest.

Her smile faded, but only a little. Slowly, she leaned forward in his arms, her lips moving closer to his.

Wong leapt out from behind the television, cupped his hands to his mouth, and went, “Wooooooooooo!”

Her cheeks crimson, Luck slipped out of One’s grasp and headed for the nearest exit.

“Luck!” One called out just before her hand could close around the door handle.

She turned and looked at him, a faint blush still on her cheek.

One pulled the fake ring from his pocket and tossed it to her. “Keep it. Keep them both. I don’t mind, as long as it’s you.”

She caught it, her face going an even deeper shade of red. Without another word, she left his floor.

One walked back to his chair, making a point to thump Wong on the head. “I think I know why Two finds you so annoying.”

Wong grinned back at him.

31: Chapter 30 - Looking for Trouble

Mikaen tossed and turned in his bed for hours before he gave up trying to sleep. For the first time since he arrived on Vinta, Mikaen felt like there was something important to be dealt with, an enemy to fight that was bigger than some disgruntled wild animal or a group of local thugs.

All the signs pointed toward something insidious at work: the attempted ambush, the missing people of Muonsol, the dragon drones, and Jyle's odd behavior. Every instinct Mikaen had as a knight screamed that something big was going on, something that needed his personal touch.

Sighing, Mikaen walked out onto the balcony. The view was spectacular; the massive crystalline chronoan tree’s limbs and leaves stretched out into the sky above the central hub of the palace, emanating a faint blue light as the moon of Everblue hung high in the sky.

Hearing the sound of someone humming, Mikaen glanced at the balcony of the Shoran tower. He was hoping to see Tirinia, but was surprised to see Teria instead.

She was lying on the rail, apparently quite comfortable despite the fact that a nudge in the right place would send her hurtling down to her death, or in the very least into the pokey branches of a tree.

She stared up at the star-filled sky in silence, her usual crooked grin replaced with a thoughtful expression. The tune she was humming seemed faintly familiar to Mikaen, but he couldn't quite place it.

“Evening.” Mikaen called out.

“Evening.” She replied, stretching her arms before hopping back onto her balcony. “If you’re looking to serenade sis, she already went to bed.”

As she headed for the balcony door, Mikaen called out, “I hear you and my mysterious benefactor share some history.”

“Yes?” She said, a slight edge to her tone.

“Well, I'm curious. Can you blame me? I didn't even know about Dreamers until I came to Vinta, and now I've got One watching over my shoulder like an angel. I'd like to know more about him.”

“I get it, Mikaen, it’s just …” Teria sighed. She hopped back onto the railing and let her feet dangle over the edge. “How could he forget me? We were close, closer than any friend I ever had.”

“Were you …” Mikaen stopped; he felt awkward about asking about another person’s bonding, given the intimacy he had already felt since he had been bonded to Tirinia.

She grinned, no doubt guessing his thoughts. “Bonded? Nah. I was only fifteen when he nearly landed on me, seventeen when he left to make a name for himself. Had he stayed, though, we’d have been married by now.”

“If he had beat you in combat, right?”

She let out a slight chuckle. “Don't let the clumsy act fool you. Glen's an awesome hand-to-hand fighter, especially when he's got Headache. Have you ever seen One fight? He would have beaten me easily, and as a three-time winner of the Longshore Melee, I don’t say that lightly.” She sighed. “The two years we spent together were really something else, Mikaen. I won't lie and say we always got along, but ... we were friends. We both knew we felt more, but it took Sorceress Ackibar to get one of us to admit it.”

She leaned forward against the balcony railing and stared up at the sky for a long moment. “For years, I dreamed of him coming back as a hero or as some kinda famous adventurer or something … but not this. Not as a Dreamer, and definitely not without any memory of me. I mean, how does that even happen?”

“You know,” Mikaen said, “from what One told me, I don’t think he wanted to forget.”

“Yeah, well he doesn’t remember now, does he?”

“Still,” Mikaen persisted, “He really seemed bothered when I spoke to him this morning. He may not remember you like he did, but your feelings still matter to him.”

She didn’t reply. Mikaen continued, “He said he’s getting the memories reintegrated. I don’t pretend to really understand what he means, but he obviously still wants to remember you. Maybe there’s still a chance that you can get him back.”

Teria let out a dejected sigh. “I’m pretty sure he’s taken. Maybe you missed it earlier, but his girlfriend gave me a good lump in the head.” She sighed, looking downtrodden. “He’s gone. I can’t help but feel responsible somehow, and that kinda pisses me off.”

“Why would you be responsible?” Mikaen asked, genuinely perplexed.

Teria shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe something I did made him not want to remember me.”

“Or maybe it had nothing to do with you.”

She looked at him questioningly.

“Maybe what he was trying to forget wasn’t so much you as something he saw or did during the time you spent together. Maybe forgetting you was really just an accident … collateral damage, as it were.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “So I’m collateral damage, huh? You should try that line on Tirinia some time, stud.”

Mikaen flushed. “Okay, that didn’t come out right, but you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” She tapped her feet against a railing post, wondering aloud, “I wonder what he’s doing right now? Is he trying to remember? Is he with her?”

Mikaen didn’t know how to respond. Fortunately, she didn’t seem to expect any response.

Shaking her head, Teria slipped back off the rail again. “Bah. Tirinia’s the romantic, not me. I’m going to bed, and I suggest you do the same; I heard Tirinia saying she wanted to spar with you tomorrow. Something about finally having a real challenge.”

Shaking her head, she walked back into her room and shut the door behind her.

Mikaen stayed on his balcony for a while. He didn't pretend to understand much of the situation around Teria and One (or Glen, Mikaen supposed), but it seemed out of his hands in any case.

His eyes fell to the garden below. It truly was a wondrous sight, particularly at night; the glowing tree gave off enough light to make out the paved path that wound around the trees, bushes, and vines. It looked so peaceful … so inviting.

“Maybe I’ll just go for a little walk.” Mikaen said to himself.

He was almost to the door when his gaze fell on his armor, laid out on top of the dresser. There was no reason to put it on, not for a walk in the garden. Nevertheless, he found himself gearing up; Even after months of peace, he still just didn’t feel comfortable without his protective gear. Though a bit tight in the shoulders, it still fit him well.

A lift ride and three wrong turns later, Mikaen was walking among the beautiful plant life of the royal gardens. The trees, many of which Mikaen didn't recognize, were lightly trimmed but still allowed to grow out without much restraint. There were several patches of mevos vines; fruit-laden vines lined the path, entangled the bridges, and even grew some length up the crystalline chronoan tree. It reminded him of Homestead, the thought of which made Mikaen think wistfully of his home by the lake.

Mikaen almost missed the oak tree. Partially hidden behind a large cluster of mevos vines, it looked positively clandestine among the more exotic local plant life in the garden.

Smiling, Mikaen laid a hand on its rough bark. “A gift from One, I suppose. Where are you now, my strange friend? Out making more trouble?”

There was no response, though in truth, Mikaen expected none. He sank down into the grass and rested his back against the natural curve of the oak. Staring up into the stars and growing leaves, Mikaen let his mind wander.

He had just started to doze off when the sharp crack of a twig in the direction of the garden path snapped him back to full attention. Silently, he slipped away from the tree and peered out onto the path, his hand wrapping instinctively on the hilt of his sword.

For a few moments, he wondered if he had just imagined the sound; the gentle sway of the plant life in the evening breeze seemed perfectly natural. The longer he watched however, the more he became aware that someone or something was moving across the garden path.

The figure stopped every few moments, vanishing from Mikaen’s view only to reappear whenever it began moving again.

Mikaen realized what it was almost instantly; someone was masking themselves with a chameleon enchantment, a typical illusionist trick. He had always been able to spot Jyle sneaking out of Misakren, though exactly why Mikaen was able to see Jyle when no one else could was a mystery. Still, why would Jyle have to sneak around his own palace?

He realized his error almost immediately. The figure was too short to be Jyle. That didn’t mean a whole lot; Jyle was quite tall, and the illusionist ability wasn’t exactly rare, at least not on Earth.

Then it hit him: It must be Rydiana, he realized, off to see her lover; apparently the Jai Vye delegation had shown up after all. Even if it wasn't her, Mikaen had a keen interest in whoever was sneaking around Muonsol at night.

Mikaen followed the figure, taking great care not to be seen or heard. Even though he had been fully trained as a Shadow, it was not an easy task; he had to move very carefully to avoid making any unintentional noise with the movement of his armor. In addition, the figure stopped every few steps and looked around, presumably watching out for anyone who might be following.

His training as a Knight of the Star had not been in vain, however. The figure never noticed Mikaen’s presence. Moving with the patience of a turtle, he followed the figure out of the gardens and through the palace, always careful to duck out of sight whenever the figure would turn.

Several times, especially in the narrow hallways of the palace, he thought the figure had detected him. They would sit in the hallway, sometimes remaining motionless for as long as five minutes before moving again.

After about an hour of this stop-and-go process, the figure reached the door leading to the palace stable. With a final look around, the figure fiddled with the door lock for a moment. The door slid open a few moments later. Mikaen had to move in close to slip through the doorway before the door closed, but the figure didn't notice; it was making a beeline for the livestock elevator in the rear of the stable.

As the lift doors opened, Mikaen rushed to follow the figure inside when a sudden spasm of pain shot through his back.

I don’t know if I can properly convey the pain involved in the Gineros phase of a sentient’s life; a sentient’s wings are formed inside a protective cocoon-like layer of skin that has been building up for years, usually without the sentient’s notice. As the time draws near, the protective layer begins to thin, giving the wings more room to stretch and twist. This is not a pleasant experience, and a lesser sentients than Mikaen might very well have passed out from the pain.

However, it was not yet the time for his wings to emerge. The pain gradually receded as his wings settled.

To his surprise, a small set of arms helped him stand. “Thanks.” he breathed, steadying himself against the side of a nearby stall.

“No problem.”

Mikaen turned his gaze sharply toward the speaker. “Jeronem? What are you doing here?”

Jeronem picked up his staff and let it rest across his shoulders. “Well, I was getting something to drink when I saw you slinking through the corridors, so I decided to see what was going on. What were you doing anyway? It looked like you were following someone.”

“I was. I think it might have been Rydiana; she was using an illusion to cloak her presence.” Mikaen looked around the room, but he knew there was no point; whoever it was had probably reached the forest floor already. “She’s probably long gone now, even if she didn't hear me when I had my little Gineros attack.”

“We should go after them, right?” Jeronem glanced at the elevator doors. “I mean, with everyone disappearing and all, they're in danger.”

“Good point. Maybe we should …” Mikaen glared at Jeronem. “Wait, how do you know about that?”

Flustered, Jeronem waved Mikaen off. “What's it matter? You and Tirinia tracked all the missing people to the area near Yuna Lake.”

“You were spying on us?”

Jeronem pouted. “Well, it’s not like you ever bothered to fill me in!”

“You've been busy with all your schoolwork! I haven’t even seen you since …” Mikaen pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a sigh. “You know what? We can talk about this later. We need to get moving.”

“So we’re following Rydiana?”

“Yes, we’re going to follow Rydiana. I’ve been wanting to check out the area around Yuna Lake anyway.”

Beaming, Jeronem bounded into the lift the moment the doors opened. Mikaen followed a moment later, muttering, “Kathryn’s gonna kill me when she finds out about this.”

As the elevator descended to the forest floor, Jeronem took a sidelong glance at his friend. “Are you feeling okay?”

“You mean the Gineros?” Mikaen rubbed his back experimentally to no effect. “Yeah, pain’s gone now.”

Jeronem still looked concerned. “You think it’s okay to go out like this?”

Mikaen grinned at Jeronem. “Don’t worry about me. Just make sure you can keep up.”

32: Chapter 31 - In Search of Happiness

Jeronem bolted forward the moment the lift doors opened to reveal the forest floor. Fortunately, Mikaen had expected this and kept a firm grasp on the hood of the young vuestan's robe.

“C'mon! Lemme go!”

Leaning down to speak in his friend's ear, Mikaen whispered, “Or we could not alert her to our presence by barging through the woods at night. Which do you think sounds better?”

Pouting, Jeronem crossed his arms. “Fine. We'll be quiet. Can we go now?”

They walked through the woods as quietly as they could, listening intently for sounds of Rydiana, if indeed that was who they were chasing. Mikaen had to keep an eye on Jeronem, who was always just about a few seconds away from just dashing into the woods. Mikaen couldn't blame him; his own heart was racing with the thrill of the chase.

After about an hour, Jeronem nodded toward a dense cluster of trees just ahead of them. “We’re close to Yuna Lake.”

After motioning for Jeronem to stay put, Mikaen slowly crept forward into the brush.

The Yunalesca River flowed peacefully just a short distance from the tree line. Just a short ways downstream, Mikaen could see Yuna Lake shimmering in the moonlight.

He peered at the moonlit landscape for several minutes before he realized that Jeronem was beside him.

“See anything?”

Mikaen shook his head.

Jeronem scrutinized the area. “Definitely two people nearby.”

“Can you sense a direction?” Mikaen breathed.

Closing his eyes in concentration, Jeronem slowly pointed to a small plot of grass near the far side of the river.

Mikaen looked at the spot, murmuring, “I don’t see-”

He stopped abruptly. There was something there; it was hazy and hard to make out, but he could definitely see enough of it to make out a rough shape. The longer Mikaen stared at it, the more the seemed to solidify in his vision.

Jeronem glanced at him. “What is it?”

“There’s a tent with an illusion enchantment set up on the riverbank.”

Jeronem peered at the river. “I don’t see it.”

Neither Jeronem nor Mikaen knew that sentients, being creatures closely linked to the flow of lifestream, have the ability to detect irregular stream flows such as those produced by the use of magic. These images most often come from illusions, enchantments, or even cloaking technology, all of which trap the flow of lifestream in a set area. This was in fact why Mikaen could 'see' Jyle and Rydiana, and why he had always been able to spot a fellow magic-user.

Of course, Mikaen didn't know anything of this as he stared at the tent. He was about to move forward when a sudden rustle of bushes nearby made him crouch down for cover.

A few moments later, a winged figure emerged from the forest on the far side of the river. His white-feathered wings were large, much larger than Mikaen had expected, though it occurred to him that they would have to be fairly large to lift a humanoid body into the air.

The sentient leapt over the river in a single bound, one beat of his wings more than strong enough to propel him safely to the other side. He landed silently on the opposite bank, his wings instantly folding against his back with surprising compactness. Apparently unconcerned about anyone who might be watching, the sentient quickly entered the tent.

Jeronem’s eyes bugged out. “Dude, did you see that?”

“I’m gonna go check it out.” Mikaen whispered, “You stay here, okay? And quit saying ‘dude’; it’s just weird coming from you.”

Without waiting for a response, Mikaen cautiously emerged from the forest and crept forward.

As he drew near, he could hear whispering from within the tent. It was too soft to make out, but every now and then, he heard a feminine giggle. Slowly, he peeled back the very edge of the tent flap.

The inside of the tent was very nice, even nicer than Mikaen’s room back at the palace. Everything positively screamed luxury, right down to the enormous four-poster bed, where Rydiana and the sentient were laying in a passionate embrace and not much else. Mikaen let the tent flap fall, his face burning.

Quickly slipping across the river and rejoining Jeronem in the brush, Mikaen whispered, “Yeah, it’s Rydiana and Tyrn.”

“Well, what were they doing?”

Mikaen tried to close the thought out, but he wasn’t quite fast enough. Jeronem turned pink to the tips of his furry ears and began to giggle uncontrollably.

“Come on.” Mikaen said trying to ignore the rising heat in his cheeks. “Let’s check around the local area before we head back.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to watch some more? Might get some tips for when you're with Tirinia.”

“Very funny.” Mikaen grabbed Jeronem by the ear and pulled him away from the riverside.

They slipped away from the river and the two young lovers. The forest was fairly pleasant at night, especially now that they were able to proceed at a more leisurely pace. While beautiful, however, the forest was also quite empty; aside from themselves, there seemed to be nobody around: no missing students or rogue monks.

After about an hour, Jeronem yawned. “This is boring.”

“What's wrong?” Mikaen asked, a little annoyed. “You sure seemed gung-ho for this back in the palace.”

Jeronem snorted. “That was when it looked like something might happen. One said there'd be-”

“One?” Mikaen glared at Jeronem, who was suddenly trying to look as innocent as possible. “What did he tell you?”

“Nothing!”

“Jeronem.”

Jeronem met Mikaen's stare for a few moments before the young vuestan's resolve crumbled. “He didn't say anything, but I did a quick reading on him; he's definitely expecting something to go down tonight.”

“Something?”

A shriek suddenly shot through the air.

Mikaen and Jeronem looked at each other for a moment before they started to run.

They dashed through the woods until they reached the lovers' campsite. The tent was in shreds. What furniture was left was nothing but splinters and torn cloth. No sign remained of Rydiana or Tyrn other than a feather or two from the sentient’s wings.

Jeronem picked up a torn strip of canvas. “This is bad! This is really really bad!”

“Calm down.” Mikaen told Jeronem, kneeling beside a corner of the shredded tent.

“Calm down!? Someone kidnapped the Cygros's Daughter and one of the Jai Vye delegates!”

“Yes, and they didn't seem bothered with stealth.”

“Dude, the Cygros's gonna go ballistic!” Jeronem seemed nearly beside himself in panic.

Mikaen grabbed Jeronem by the shoulders and forced the young vuestan to look at him. “Don't think about the Cygros. Don't think about what might happen. All that matters right now is finding out where Rydiana and Tyrn were taken.”

His eyes wide, Jeronem slowly nodded. “Right ... right. I'll check for signs of magic.”

“Good.” Mikaen gave Jeronem a reassuring pat on the arm before turning his attention back to the tent.

It happened quickly; the tent had been slashed open from the outside. The residual energy from a fire spell lingered on the burned holes in the canvas, indicating someone inside had been a quick caster. A few more precise holes in the dresser and armoire indicated gunfire from a small caliber projectile weapon, probably a pistol.

“They didn't return fire.” Mikaen muttered as he noted damage from the gunfire on a nearby tree, straight across from where the rip in the tent had occurred. “So they were definitely trying to capture them. For ransom, maybe?”

“I'm not sensing any large magical disturbances.” Jeronem said, one hand clenched tightly around his staff.

“So no teleportation or movement. That means they probably left on foot.” He knelt on the ground and pointed to one of the many indentations in the ground outside the tent. “Most of these footprints were made by people wearing heavy boots. We should be able to track them fairly easily.”

“Of course! I should be able to sense them!” Jeronem closed his eyes and appeared to concentrate.

Mikaen frowned. “I meant we could follow the-”

“Shh! I need to concentrate on the psychic vibrations!”

Rolling his eyes, Mikaen knelt down on one knee and examined the footprints. They seemed to come from the north, take up positions around the tent, then return to the north, mingled with two sets of bare feet. There was something about the prints that struck him as odd, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was. The indentations of the boots was oddly familiar.

“They went-” he began.

“North!” Jeronem brushed by Mikaen, his robes hitched up around his knees as he ran. “Follow me!”

“Jeronem!” Mikaen called out, but the young vuestan was already long gone. Sighing, Mikaen muttered, “At least he’s excited.”

The two of them ran through the woods, stopping occasionally so Jeronem could presumably hone in on their target. Mikaen checked the ground for tracks every time they stopped, and was surprised to notice that that they were indeed heading in the right direction. Apparently, Jeronem’s mental strength was more powerful than he had let on in the past.

A sudden pang in Mikaen’s back brought him to an immediate halt. It wasn’t anywhere near as painful as his last attack, but he stopped and waited it out just to be safe.

Jeronem glanced around, still moving. “Come on! We’re not that far!”

Without waiting for a response, Jeronem pushed through a dense cluster bushes and promptly disappeared. Forgetting about the pain in his back, Mikaen pushed the underbrush aside.

A huge ravine cut through the ground just beyond the undergrowth. Were it not for the fact Mikaen could see the ravine floor, he might have mistook it for a Rip. There were trees at the bottom, but nowhere near as large as those on either side, leading Mikaen to surmise that the ravine might not be natural. There was a camp set on the ravine floor as well; from the light of the campfires, Mikaen could make out people in unfamiliar uniforms walking about the camp.

“What have we here?” Mikaen muttered to himself.

“Mikaen!”

Mikaen looked around, but could find no sign of Jeronem. “Where are you?”

“Down here!”

A glance down found Jeronem hanging by his tail from an outcropping tree root, desperately scrambling to gain purchase against the rock face. Mikaen quickly grabbed Jeronem’s furry tail and hoisted the young vuestan back onto the cliff.

Jeronem promptly plopped down on the ground, a hand over his no doubt rapidly beating heart. “By the Creator, I saw what little life I’ve had flashing before my eyes!”

Mikaen clamped a hand over Jeronem’s mouth, forgetting again that Jeronem was vuestan.

Jeronem’s eyes narrowed. “You about done?”

Pulling his hand back, Mikaen whispered, “Sorry. Old habits. Look down at the ravine floor.”

As Jeronem looked down, his eyes widened. “By the Creator! Look at all those soldiers!”

“Any idea who they might be?” Mikaen asked curiously.

Jeronem gave him a sarcastic look. “Well, that one there is Bob, and the one next to him is Tyson, and the McGuiller twins are over there-”

“I mean do you know what government or organization they’re with?”

“Not a clue.”

Rolling his eyes, Mikaen turned back to the camp. “We need to get closer. Any ideas?”

Jeronem looked over the camp for a few moments before pointing to the far side of the camp, where two soldiers were keeping watch.

Mikaen grinned. “Ah, the classic approach. Let’s go.”

33: Chapter 32 - The Classic Approach

Private Biggs of the Ronisgald Security Force stood at attention at the very edge of camp. Private Wedge stood beside him, not so much at attention as at casual awareness.

“I heard he’s a sentient.” Private Biggs said, his eyes scanning the woods for any sign of trouble.

Reclining against the tree with his energy rifle hanging from a low branch, Wedge asked, “Who?”

Biggs flashed an irritated glance at his brother. “You know who! Triumvate Fairchilde’s new confidant.”

Wedge considered this for a moment before shaking his head. “Nah, I don’t think so.”

“Me either.” Biggs agreed. “I’ve been around birds before, and the feeling I get from him is different.”

“Different as in?”

Biggs looked around nervously. “We shouldn’t be talking about this. If Sarge catches us goofing off again-”

Wedge slapped his friend on the shoulder. “Hey, you started this! Besides, Sarge hates the guy as much as you do. Come on, how is he different?”

“Well, he feels … darker. I don’t know how else to describe it, but that man makes me feel uneasy.”

Wedge nodded in agreement. “I know the feeling, buddy. Still, if Triumvate Fairchilde trusts him, he must be loyal to the cause.”

Biggs shook his head. “Reminds me of Glenda. No matter how innocent she acts, you can tell just lookin’ in her eyes that she's up to something.”

“Yeah.” Wedge agreed after a few moments. “I got that too. Man’s definitely up to something.”

The sound of a twig snapping nearby made them both jump and fumble with their weapons. They breathed a collective sigh of relief as a squirrel darted out of the bush. It looked at them curiously a moment before scampering away.

Leaning back against the tree, Wedge asked, “What do you think about our ‘guests’?”

“Frankly, the birds make me nervous, but the cyborg seems to be in high spirits. He understands the situation and hasn’t given us any trouble. Personally, I’m more worried about those two slamm players; have you seen the Muonsol Marauders in action?” He shook his head. “Glad we’re not guarding them.”

Wedge asked with a knowing grin, “Whatcha think about the ladies?”

Biggs lowered his rifle, considering. “The one we just picked up? She’s a beauty. ‘Course, I’ve never seen an idestan girl who wasn’t. Personally, I like the Rimstakken. She’s unusually quiet for her kind, but absentminded as anything. She’s really a pleasure to talk to though. Pretty too.”

“You can say that again. It’s a shame she shot me down, but this probably wasn’t the best time to ask her out on a date. Speaking of which, I heard there was a problem with one of our ‘allies’ around our guests.”

“Yeah. Good thing Sarge was there, or we’d have a war on our hands.” Biggs shook his head. “Those guys are trouble. I can't believe we're even allied with-”

Another snap made both of the guards jump again. When nothing was forthcoming, they started to ease up, but the sound of a small crash from behind the bushes followed muffled swearing prompted Biggs to shine his searchlight at the bush.

“Who goes there?” He called out.

There was no response other than the continued chirping of crickets.

Wedge started forward, but Biggs held him back, saying, “I got this one. Keep the light on the bushes there, okay?”

“It's all yours, bro.” Wedge took the searchlight and aimed it at the bush.

As Biggs approached the bushes, the light disappeared. He called back, “What’s the deal, Wedge? Do I look tigreth? Turn the light back on!”

The light came back on a moment later.

Biggs nodded and waited a moment for his eyes to adjust to the light. Once he could see clearly, he pushed aside the brush with one hand, his rifle raised and ready to fire. As he moved the branches a small winged bunny looked back up at him with wide, curious eyes.

Chuckling to himself, Biggs told the startled fiona, “Oh. Well, you can go about your business.” As he turned, he was nearly blinded by the searchlight.

Shielding his eyes, Biggs called out, “We’re clear!”

The light didn’t move. As he approached, he shouted, “Turn off the damn light already!”

A few moments later, the light blinked out. Biggs breathed a sigh of relief, and rubbed his eyes.

As the spots started fading from his vision, Biggs resumed his post. “I don’t know. This whole assignment is trouble, and I bet those hotheads and their psycho boss are behind everything.”

“I wouldn’t worry about them.” replied Mikaen, standing where Wedge had previously stood guard.

Biggs stared at Mikaen uncomprehendingly for a few moments, which gave Mikaen more than enough time to blow a puff of pink dust into the startled guard’s face. Biggs hit the ground a moment later, already snoring.

As Jeronem exited the brush, Mikaen asked, “Nice. What is this stuff?”

“Dream dust. They’re going to take a nap for the next few hours.”

“Dream dust, huh?” Mikaen peered into the small vial. “Where’d you learn to make it?”

Jeronem shrugged. “I went through a warlock phase before I decided to be a spell-shaper. You shoulda seen how relieved mom was when I threw out all my potion ingredients.”

Biggs’s uniform was a surprisingly good fit after Mikaen pulled out the armor pads sewn inside the cloth. The helmet had a heads-up display equipped with night-vision and thermal sensors. It covered most of his head as well, making it a perfect disguise.

“Nice.” he said, pausing a moment to watch the heat signature of the fiona scamper through the woods.

Sliding Truth and Justice into some of the many pockets of the uniform, Mikaen glanced down at the prone forms of Biggs and Wedge. They were both sleeping soundly clad in nothing but their boxer shorts.

“They look Galden,” he commented, “and this is definitely some kind of military uniform. I wonder if ... Jeronem?”

Mikaen nearly burst out laughing at the sight of Jeronem draped in one of the Galden uniforms, holding up his pants while his tail wiggled over the waistline. Interestingly enough, his helmet’s display identified Jeronem as being Wedge; Mikaen suspected some sort of imbedded suit protocol.

Careful to keep a straight face, Mikaen put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I don’t think the uniform’s gonna work with you.”

“Aww!” Jeronem’s pout abruptly changed to a look of surprise. “Mikaen! Look out!”

Mikaen didn’t have enough time to turn. Two dark shapes leapt from the low branches of a nearby tree and tackled both of them to the ground.

“Say nothing, or you’re both dead!” Mikaen’s assailant hissed, her claws at his throat.

Mikaen’s eyes flew open. “Tirinia?”

“Mikaen?” Tirinia’s jaw dropped. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, you know, I just thought I’d go for a walk in the middle of the forest in a stolen uniform so I can infiltrate the secret camp and rescue Princess Rydiana. You?”

“Er … same thing. Except for the uniform.”

Smiling, Mikaen pulled his helmet up so his mouth was exposed and gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek. “Can I get up now?”

Blushing, Tirinia helped Mikaen to his feet.

Out of the corner of his eye, Mikaen saw Teria yank off Jeronem’s helmet. “Jeronem Thistlethorn. Why am I not surprised? “

“Saw the princess sneaking out, thought I’d follow. You?”

“We were supposed to be watching the princess.”

“Good job on that.” Jeronem snatched the helmet from Teria and jammed it on his head.

“Hang on, your helmet’s crooked. Let me help you with that.” She gave Jeronem’s helmet a good smack with her fist. As Jeronem shrieked, his hands clutching the side of his helmeted head, Teria turned to Mikaen. “I suppose you were planning on infiltrating the camp?”

“Well, we were,” Mikaen replied, “but Jeronem’s not gonna fool anybody in that uniform.”

Jeronem begrudgingly pulled off his helmet and uniform and tossed them to the ground. “I suppose I could cast an invisibility spell or something.”

“So who wears the second suit?” Mikaen asked, looking at Teria and Tirinia.

A few minutes later, Mikaen and Teria were walking straight through the center of camp in full disguise as Privates Biggs and Wedge. The camp as a whole seemed to be settling down for the evening save for a few patrolling guards, who merely nodded as they passed. Tirinia and Jeronem followed behind, keeping to the shadows whenever soldiers drew near.

The disguise worked well, but the way Teria was constantly tugging at the top of her uniform seemed awfully conspicuous to Mikaen.

He whispered, “Quit fidgeting! Someone’s going to notice.”

“Easy for you to say; you don’t have boobs … and don’t even get me started about my tail.”

Tirinia and Jeronem had to stifle their giggles.

Feeling his face grow hot beneath his mask, Mikaen muttered, “Sorry.”

“Not as sorry as I am for having to wear this Galden trash.”

“About that; this uniform-”

“Galden Security Force. You wouldn’t have seen it before.”

“I think it looks great on you, Teria.” Tirinia commented, unable to repress a smirk.

Teria glared at her. “Oh, like you wouldn’t have a problem; you’re easily two cup sizes bigger than me!”

Mikaen could see Tirinia blush even in the low light. She crossed her arms over her bosom self-consciously.

Sighing, Teria gave up trying to adjust her uniform. “Ugh. Let’s just get this over with as quickly as possible.”

“Say,” said Tirinia, glancing at a nearby tent as a soldier went inside, “Should we be checking the tents as we go? I mean, we may have already passed them.”

“Not necessary. Take a look at that.” Mikaen pointed at a large tent with a guard posted at each corner.

The group took cover behind the tent they had just passed. After making sure no one was listening, Mikaen whispered, “It’s a safe bet to say that’s where our missing people are being kept. Any ideas on … wait, where’s Jeronem?”

About that time, a voice from behind Mikaen said, “If it isn’t the Atkins boys! Oh, who’s your friend, Biggs?”

Mikaen spun around to see a plump woman holding two heavy looking trays. There was no sign of Jeronem.

Smiling warmly at Tirinia, the woman said, “You’re certainly a pretty young thing.”

Tirinia turned bright red. “T-thanks, ma’am.”

Turning back to Mikaen, the lady asked, “Your girlfriend?”

Quickly improvising, Mikaen rubbed the back of his helmet; saying in what he hoped was a close approximation of Biggs’ voice, “I know she shouldn’t be in the camp but-”

The woman shook her head, smiling. “Don’t worry hon. I won’t tell anyone. Say, could you boys do me a favor?”

Mikaen nodded, saying, “Of course.”

The woman handed Mikaen and Teria each a tray, saying, “Could you bring these to our new friends? It’s been such a harsh day for them, and I wanted to make them feel a little better with a warm, home-cooked meal.”

Mikaen traded glances with Teria, saying, “We’d be glad to help right, Wedge?”

Teria gave him a thumb up. Mikaen couldn’t see her expression through the face mask, but he was pretty sure that she was finding this amusing.

The woman laughed. “You two are still quite the team, aren’t you? You always were such troublemakers back home.”

She shook her head. “Well, I’d better get back. We’ve got to make food for all of these soldiers’ breakfast tomorrow morning. Oh, is there anything you’d like me to tell your mother?”

Mikaen replied dryly, “Tell her I wish I was back home.”

The woman smiled and turned to Wedge expectantly. “Anything you’d like to say Wedge?”

“Uh, no.” said Teria, sounding as though she were trying to make her voice deeper.

The woman laughed. “Fair enough. Good night you two.”

Passing by Tirinia, she whispered, “Make sure they stay out of trouble.”

Her cheeks pink, Tirinia nodded respectfully.

After the lady was out of sight, Jeronem stepped out from behind a nearby tent. “That was close … and that was a lousy imitation of a guy’s voice, Teria.”

Teria scowled. “Bite me, monkey-boy.”

Mikaen looked at the tray in his hands. “Deus ex machina.”

Jeronem, Teria, and Tirinia looked at him curiously.

He opened his mouth to explain, but thought better of it. “I'll tell you later.”

34: Chapter 33 - Egress

“Supper time!” Mikaen called out as he and Teria drew near the guards.

The soldiers examined the contents of the trays. One of the soldiers commented, “Why are our ‘guests’ getting food this late?”

The other guard said, “It’s the lot from Jai Vye. Still a little time-sick I’d imagine.”

Mikaen and Teria traded a look of triumph at this. Their suspicions had been right.

The guard put the cover back on the trays. “All right. Go on in.”

As Teria and Mikaen entered the tent, Mikaen called out cheerily, “All right, who’s hungry?”

Rydiana was sitting in the corner, Tyrn holding her close and whispering reassuringly in her ear. Next to them was another sentient with white feathered wings and a dour expression, a Galden with a smile that looked as though it had been chiseled onto his face, and a short and rather pretty woman that Mikaen recognized as a Rimstakken.

There were a number of idestan there as well, but of more immediate interest was the man in the green-and-gray striped shirt laying back in a chair as though he hadn’t a care in the world.

Mikaen couldn’t help himself. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Who, me?” One said innocently. “I was just taking a stroll through the forest when I was captured!”

“Really.” It was Teria who spoke, her voice laced with sarcasm.

The cheerful-looking Galden smacked his lips. “Is that for us? I was just thinking about food.” As he reached for the tray, Mikaen noticed that the young man’s arms and legs were cybernetic. Save for the dark gray skin and the joints, they looked remarkably similar to normal limbs.

The sentient with the dour expression looked at the cyborg with an expression of disgust. “By the Creator, Maxim! How can you think about food at a time like this?”

Maxim shrugged.”You don’t want any, just say so, Kajex. I’ll eat it myself; it smells delicious. How ‘bout you, Tyrn? Rydiana?”

When the young lovers didn’t respond, Kajex snorted, saying, “Tyrn, if you keep staring at her like that, you’ll go cross-eyed.”

The shorter girl put down the complicated bit of machinery she had been poking at. “Well I am certainly having hunger. We’ve all of us been put to walking all day, and the only thing I’ve been having to eat is a package of peanuts with an overabundance quantity of salt.”

One hopped up from his seat and walked to Teria. “I’ll take that.”

“What are you doing here?” She hissed, not letting go of the tray.”

“Just trying to be helpful.”

“I don't need your help, Glen.”

They wrestled with the tray for a few moments before One finally wrested it from her grasp. He blew a raspberry at her before handing the tray to the Rimstakken.

She took the tray from him a little hesitantly. “Much thanks, Mister Glen.”

“Null problem.” One said, turning back to Mikaen and Teria, “Mind if I see one of your rifles for a sec?”

This drew curious glances from everyone in the room. The stares went from curious to shocked when Mikaen actually handed One the rifle.

“Ah, nothing quite like a Salvine Combine Rifle, Keergo model if I'm not mistaken.” One popped out the clip, revealing a glowing blue battery. Slapping the clip back into place, he continued, “Still new, from the looks of it. Y'know, the Jarre series tended to have sticky triggers.”

He paused for a moment before raising the rifle skyward and firing off a shot. Everyone jumped except for Mikaen and Teria.

“Ah, good; looks like they fixed it in the new series.” One grinned and promptly tossed the weapon at Maxim, who reflexively caught it with a single cybernetic hand.

The guards posted at the front of the tent rushed into the tent and pointed their rifles at Maxim. “Drop it!”

Maxim dropped the rifle, the bewildered expression on his face almost making Mikaen laugh. “Okay, take it easy! This is all just a simple misunderstanding!”

Silently moving behind the soldiers, Mikaen put his hands on their shoulders and gave them just enough of a shock to knock them out cold.

“There will be more coming.” Mikaen said. “Teria, can you-”

“I'm on it.” With a final glare at One, Teria hurried out of the tent.

Kajex leapt to his feet, demanding, “What in Nocturnes is going on here?”

Teria pulled off her helmet, and tossed it on the ground. “Keep your feathers on, Kajex. We're here to help.”

Kajex stared at her for a few moments before finally managing a weak, “Teria? But how ...?”

Mikaen picked up his rifle and tossed it to Maxim, saying, “I trust you know how to use this.”

“Oh, hell yeah!” Maxim caught the rifle in midair, spun it in his hands, and tucked it beneath his arm as though he had grown up using one (which Mikaen conceded might very well be the case), “A rescue party! I was just thinking of bustin’ outta here.”

“Calm down a sec, Maxim.” said One, “There's a small army out there, and only a few of us. Let's get everyone to safety before we start blasting everything in sight. Right, Mikaen?”

“Who-” Kajex began, looking from Mikaen to One.

“Well handle introductions later.” Mikaen glanced around. “You all ready to get out of here?”

Mikaen left the tent first, and looked around carefully for any sign of the guards. Seeing none, he motioned the others to follow him and started walking the way that they had entered the camp. Tirinia and Jeronem caught up with him moments later, both leading another group of former-prisoners.

“Thanks for that.” Mikaen whispered to One as they made their escape, “I wasn’t sure how I was going to get them out.”

“Eh. You woulda figured out something. Still, I’m glad you showed up; I was gonna have to bust ‘em out the old fashioned way if you didn’t.” Headache appeared on One's arms. “Not that I don't like a good scrap, but it never pays to advertise your presence when you're a Dreamer.”

As Mikaen led the group through the encampment, a sense of unease slowly spread through him. They hadn’t run into any soldiers, and the group as a whole was doing a good job being quiet. In short, the rescue was going without a hitch. In Mikaen’s experience, that was never a good sign.

He felt his tension begin to peak as they neared the tree line. If something was going to happen, it would be now or never. Fortunately for everyone involved, it turned out to be never; they slid into the forest without so much as a sign of another guard.

The entire group relaxed visibly once they were a good distance away from the Galden camp, though they kept conversation limited to barely audible whispers.

Teria wasted no time in ditching her uniform. Tossing it aside, she muttered, “’bout damn time. Let’s beat feet back to elf land.”

As they started back, Mikaen moved over to One. “I don’t suppose you know why the Galden went to all this trouble?”

One shrugged. “I wasn’t there long, but from what little I did overhear from the guards outside, I don’t think they came here to kidnap people. It’s more a matter of being at the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“What did you hear?” Mikaen asked.

“Shae really knows more about it than me. Hey, Shae!”

The Rimstakken glanced at One curiously. He motioned her over. “Could you come here a sec, please?”

She walked over, an intrigued expression on her face. Mikaen noticed Kajex moving subtly closer to them, the sentient's gaze focused pointedly away.

“Yeah, he’s had a crush on her for years.” One whispered as Shae drew near. “Hasn’t told her yet. Cute, huh?”

“Can I be of helping assistance?” She asked politely.

“Indeed, you can.” One said, “Could you tell Mikaen here what you told me?”

“Of course.” Nodding her head politely at Mikaen, she said, “I was overhearing the conversation of Biggs and Wedge, the guards you took the uniforms from.” She suddenly looked concerned. “You didn’t injure them in the process of taking-”

“They’re fine.” Mikaen assured her. “Just asleep. Please continue.”

“Well, they were speaking of the cavern that is resting at the far end of the ravine. I am believing they spoke of a great sleeping beast in the cavern.”

“Sleeping beast?”

“I think they were having named it a dragon, if such a thing is within belief.”

“Dragon?” Jeronem looked torn between excitement and panic, “As in big, scaly, winged, fire-breathing monster that devours people by the dozen?”

Mikaen drew in a sharp breath. Dragons, even friendly ones, were not to be taken lightly. Perhaps the Galden hoped to capture the dragon and study it. The Revs had tried a similar tactic back on Earth. Mikaen had visited the burnt out shell of the research facility once; it hadn’t worked out quite like the Revs had hoped.

The Galden obviously didn’t want anyone to know they were there. Whatever their purpose was, Mikaen felt certain that it was only part of something bigger … perhaps even a preamble to war.

“Okay.” He said, turning around, “I'm going to head back and get a little more recon.”

Tirinia blocked his path with surprising speed. “Oh, no you don’t! You’re near your Gineros, remember?”

Mikaen took her hand, and rubbed it against the side of his cheek, saying, “I’ll be fine.”

“You aren’t going. I will knock you out and carry you back if I have to.” The matter-of-fact way she said that, coupled with the stubborn expression on her face caught Mikaen completely by surprise. Even without the bond between them, he could tell that she wasn’t exaggerating.

“I told you the shy thing was a ruse.” Teria said with a chuckle.

Tirinia blushed, but held her stance.

After glancing between the two of them for a moment, One gave a polite cough to break the tension. “Tell you what, Tyr; I’ll go with him and keep him from doing anything stupid. That good enough for you?”

“Uh-huh.” Teria poked One in the shoulder. “And who's going to keep you from doing anything stupid?”

One raised his hands. “Hey, I'm not the one who just put on a cursed hat she found hanging from a tree branch.”

“Yeah, but I did pull your ass out of the fire when you pissed off that coven in Fairhaven … or have you already forgotten what it was like to be slimy and covered with warts?”

“No, I didn’t forget.  I didn’t forget you accidentally blowing that stream reactor in Brigsonstrat to hell because you thought you could fix Rimstakken programming without knowing the language either!”

Everyone was staring at the two of them. As they glared at each other, Maxim was the first to say something.

“Geez, you two.” He said, chuckling. “Get a room already.”

One met Teria's gaze again. The memories had slipped back into place so quickly he hadn't even realized they were there.

“Okay.” Tirinia said after looking at One thoughtfully for a few moments. “But his back so much as twitches-”

“-I’ll get him back to Muonsol, don’t worry.”

She stared at Mikaen, who smiled back at her reassuringly. “I’ll be fine.”

“Okay.” She said, turning back to One, “but if he gets hurt, I’m blaming you.”

Sighing, One held up his hand, saying, “I promise he won’t get hurt, Dreamer’s honor.” He stared at Teria, as though daring her to say something. She snorted, but remained otherwise silent.

Tirinia turned back to Mikaen. Without warning, she threw her arms around him and gave him a kiss that made everyone else blush.

“Be careful.” She whispered before slipping away to rejoin the group of rescued prisoners.

With a nod at her sister, Teria turned back to the group, saying “All right, we’re heading back to Muonsol. Keep up or you’re getting left behind!” With a final glance at One, she led the group away.

One clapped his hands together. “Let’s hope everything goes as well as it’s been going, eh?”

“What do you mean by that?” Mikaen asked as One slipped on Wedge’s uniform.

“Well, you were supposed to run into some kind of problem during the rescue. Guess even Teach’s wrong every now and then.” The thought seemed to give One satisfaction. Mikaen was curious, but he decided not to ask.

“We’d better get moving.” He said as One pulled on the Galden headgear, “Hate for the next watch shift to find us missing, eh Biggs?”

“Of course, Wedge.” Mikaen replied with a grin.

35: Chapter 34 - In Sleep it Waits

Disguised as members of the Galden Security Force, One and Mikaen had scarcely reached the post previously occupied by the now-recumbent Biggs and Wedge when a voice called out, “Ah, there you are! See, I told you they wouldn't run off.”

“Good timing.” Mikaen muttered as he turned to see two Galden soldiers walking toward him. The HUD in his helmet identified them as Sergeant Kevin Jures and Lieutenant Dobbs Jelson.

Sergeant Kevin saluted, his lieutenant following suite a few moments later. “Go ahead and get some rest, you two; we'll take the rest of your shift.”

“Are you sure, sir?” Mikaen asked, secretly impressed. The illusionary guards Jeronem and Rydiana had cobbled together with their respective magicks were apparently holding up.

“Yeah, go on. I can't sleep anyway; too much noise.”

Glancing at Mikaen, One said, “Can do, Sarge!”

They barely made it ten yards before the Lieutenant called out, “Oy! Wedge!”

Mikaen and One froze instantly, fearing the worst.

The guard ran over to One and fished a handful of shards. “Twenty three, twenty four, twenty five shards. Still can’t believe you actually asked her out.”

“What can I say,” said One said as he pocketed the money, “She’s adorable.”

“She’s no stick in the eye, I give you that, but the way they talk … I mean, just listening to her gave me a headache.”

One shrugged. “Each to his own, dude.”

The soldier gave him an odd look. “Dude?”

“Yeah, dude. Y'know: pal, buddy, hombre, partner.”

“Uh, right. You're a strange guy, Wedge, you know that?” Still shaking his head, the guard returned to his post.

As they walked into the camp, Mikaen whispered, “Nice improv.”

“Thanks. Helps to have a quick mind in my line of work. Now come on!”

Most of the camp was asleep. This was fine with One and Mikaen; the last thing they needed was more attention.

“So,” One said out of the corner of his mouth, “What do you think this thing is?”

“Not sure. I’d bet Truth that it has something to do with those drones that attacked Tirinia and me before you showed up at the cathedral yesterday.”

“Drones?”

Mikaen nodded. “Draconian-looking machines, very fast and decently armored. We managed to take them down, but it was easily the hardest fight I’ve had lately.” After a moment, he amended, “Well, except when I met Tirinia.”

“Well, she was one of the finalists in last year's Longshore Melee. Those fights can get pretty int-”

“You there!”

“This is getting old.” One muttered beneath his breath. As a robed figure hurried toward them. The monk wasn’t wearing the same robes as the monks who had attacked Mikaen and Jeronem on the road to Muonsol, but something about the blue trim on the robes tugged at Mikaen’s mind. As man drew near, Mikaen remembered: one of the monks he had encountered in Homestead had worn the same robes.

“Private Biggs! Private Wedge!” The monk snapped, “What is your current assignment?”

One saluted instantly. “We’re just turning in for the night, sir.”

“Belay that. Our excavation team needs a hand for about an hour. Report to the target site on the double.”

Mistaking his hesitation for lack of direction, the monk sighed, and gestured impatiently to the far end of the Ravine. “Straight down the ravine and into the cave … and for the love of the Creator, don’t go poking around with anything you don’t understand!”

The monk brushed by Mikaen, calling out, “Private Aryan!”

“Well, that was easy.” One muttered to Mikaen as they headed in the direction the monk had indicated.

“Indeed. After you, Wedge.”

It didn’t take them long to reach the end of the ravine. It didn’t dip into the ground as Mikaen had expected; rather, it seemed to keep going down at the same incline as the rest of the ravine.

As they entered the cave, One commented, “You know, I don’t think this is a natural formation.”

“What do you mean?”

He pointed to the edges of the cave. “The walls are smooth. Even in really old caves, there are a few jagged spots here and there, right?”

Mikaen looked at the rock wall. It was smooth, but he didn’t think anything of it. “Maybe it was carved out by magic or by hand.”

“Spell-shaping stone is different from shaping wood; a tunnel this big magic would leave crystallic formations in the rock. If it were mined out conventionally, stone would still show lesions.” One rested a hand against the wall. “The surface is almost glassy … no stalactites or stalagmites either. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that the rock was melted.”

“What could possibly-”

Mikaen stopped speaking abruptly as they entered a large cavern. There were soldiers everywhere, with the occasional monk here and there, but that wasn’t what caught his eye. No, that would be the dragon partially submerged in rock.

Mikaen remembered the first time he had seen a dragon. He had rushed into the forest near the Rip in Bridges to avoid a detachment of Revs. The Knights were still in their infancy, so he was completely on his own.

While Mikaen was trying to figure out what to do, a huge claw lowered a giant hunk of ice right in front of him with the three Revs were frozen solid inside. Mikaen soon found himself face to face with a creature he thought only existed in legend. As though that had not been enough, the dragon introduced itself as ‘Alfred’, and invited Mikaen to his lair for a cup of tea and a chat.

The dragons had been sealed away with much of the rest of Earth’s magic, and were all too keen to lend the Knights a hand in the fight against the Revs. They took the Revs assault on the non-human races very personally, and were likely the only reason the west coast settlements were as untouched as they were.

The creature half-buried in stone in the center of the chamber bore a strong resemblance to Alfred; it was easily five times his height, a dozen times as long, and had enormous wings that looked to be more than enough to propel the creature into the air. Its muscular arms and legs each ended in a five huge talons.

The only difference seemed to be the scales. Alfred had oval scales colored like the tip of a peacock’s tail feather. This Dragon had diamond-shaped scales that were gun-metal black, much like the drones Mikaen had fought earlier.

It appeared to be asleep, despite the constant sound of mining filling the chamber. Mikaen was certain it must be either dead or in deep hibernation until a large panel on the dragon’s back retracted to reveal a mess of wiring and circuitry.

“It’s a machine.” Mikaen breathed. His suspicions were confirmed when he spotted several of the drones partially deconstructed against the cave wall, robed figures examining the parts with much intensity.

“One, those are the drones that attacked us.” When One didn’t reply, Mikaen glanced over to see the Dreamer clutching his head as though he had a bad headache.

“You okay, One … er, Wedge?” asked Mikaen, a little alarmed.

“Yeah, I’m good. I haven’t had my caffeine today.” Shaking his head, he said, “We need a closer look.”

An old man wearing the same blue and green robe motioned them over. He had a kind face and a small bald spot on the back of his head. “Ah, Private Biggs and Private Wedge. Nice to see you again so soon. I say, are you all right, Wedge? That drone hit you awfully hard yesterday.”

“I’ll be fine just as soon as the cavern stops spinning around.” One flashed the monk a grin. “Divine intervention would be fantastic, by the way.”

The man chuckled, “I’ll ask the Creator to see what he can do. In the meantime, would you mind giving your degree in ancient technologies a bit of exercise and help our engineers figure out how to start this ruddy thing? It would be nice to be able to move it once it’s free of the rock.”

Eyeing the metal dragon’s sturdy construction, Mikaen asked, “Can’t it break free itself?”

The robed man chuckled, saying, “Patience, my son. It is very old, and we aren’t sure how much stress it can safely take. If you’ve the time, would you go help remove the last of the debris?”

“Of course, sir.”

The old man chuckled. “None of that sir stuff. Jonathon is just fine, but you can call me Brother Joven if you insist.”

Grasping One’s arm, Brother Joven said, “I’ll show you the way. You might need my support.”

Chuckling, One waved at Mikaen, saying, “See you later, bro!”

Now alone, Mikaen headed toward the base of the creature, where a group of soldiers were already at work removing chunks of stone from the dragon’s legs.

“Private Biggs, reporting for duty!” said Mikaen, snapping to attention.

The robed man looked at him with obvious respect. “I’d about given up finding a competent military man in this outfit. Assist the others in freeing the final leg of the machine.”

The robed man tossed a small gun to Mikaen. “It’s already set, so start whenever you’re ready.”

Mikaen caught the gun and looked at it uncertainly. It seemed a similar make to the stasis gun, right down to the stylized ‘OZ’ engraving on the grip.

The robed man sighed. “Look, it’s easy: point the gun at the rock, wait for the light to turn blue, then shoot.”

Mikaen quickly moved beside the others and took aim with the strange pistol. A beam of red light hit the rock and began to spread. When it covered an area roughly a foot wide, the light changed from red to light blue.

As Mikaen depressed the trigger, the gun shuddered slightly in his hand and the light emanating from the barrel flashed white. When the light faded, the part of the rock that had been covered with red light was gone, revealing a single talon.

One of the other officers noticed, and called through his wrist-radio, “We’ve started uncovering the final claw.”

“Excellent. Let me know the instant the machine is clear.”

As the others continued, Mikaen frowned beneath his helmet. This was obviously some kind of weapon; what else could it be? Everything about the situation screamed trouble, and he still had far more questions than answers. Why were the Galden here? Why was the dragon-machine here? Just what the hell was going on?

His attention was suddenly jolted away from the monk as the piece of stone he uncovered revealed a mark that had been etched onto one of the talons. It was Crash’s symbol.

“What the-” He said, lowering his gun.

“Ah, excellent!”

One of the robed men hurried forward. “We should be able to get it out now. I’ll inform the commander. The rest of you should clear out of this area immediately.”

As the robed man walked away, a soldier Mikaen’s helmet identified as Private Rael snorted, saying, “You’re welcome!”

A somewhat thin soldier by the name of Jinne grabbed Rael’s arm, whispering, “Ungrateful bastards. Tell me, why we’re working with them again?”

“Cause Triumvate Fairchilde told us to, and he’s a good man. Best general the security force has ever had.” said Sergeant Jures, a muscular soldier with a cheery voice. “Come on, let’s go get a few drinks before turning in.”

“In a sec.” Mikaen told them. “I need to go grab my brother.” Mikaen started walking back to the machine but stumbled as his wings began to strain against his back.

Private Rael helped him up. “Yo, Biggs! You all right, man?”

“Yeah, I’m good. Back cramps.”

Rael and Jinne helped him to a nearby crate. As Mikaen sat down, Jinne told him, “It’s all right, man. You’ll feel better when we get back to Ronisgald. Believe me, we never go out of our way this much.”

“Yeah, unless our new friends send us on another wild fiona chase.” Rael shook his head.

New friends? If the Galden weren’t working alone, with whom were they working? As Mikaen waited his wings to settle down, he found himself wishing he had paid more attention to Elduran’s lectures about Vintan world politics.

As the pain began to fade, Mikaen said, “I’ll be fine. I just need to sit down for a minute.”

Private Rael patted him on the arm, “Well, if you feel up to it, we’ll be raiding the supply tent. I hear Charlie keeps some aged xemptarian wine hidden somewhere, and we aim to find it.”

As the guards moved away, Mikaen slowly straightened his back. The pain wasn’t completely gone this time. What was worse, Mikaen could feel his wings continuing to move beneath the skin, making his back feel unusually taut.

As much as he wanted to find out more about the Revs and the metal dragon, he could tell that it was time to head back to Muonsol. He had already gathered some information that Jyle would definitely find of interest.

As another group of soldiers passed by, some waving at Mikaen as they passed, one soldier broke off from the group and walked over. Bending close to Mikaen’s ear, he whispered, “You aren’t gonna believe what I’ve found out … dude, you okay?”

Mikaen nodded. “Gineros pains. I don’t think I have much time.”

“Okay then, back to Muonsol.”

“But the dragon-” Mikaen began.

One waved him off. “It’ll take these guys weeks to figure out how to pilot that thing, and by then we’ll have Jyle here with a troop of knights to take the whole lot into custody.”

As One tried to help Mikaen stand, the entire cavern shuddered ominously.

Steadying himself, One asked, “What the hell?”

Another shudder ran through the cavern, this one punctuated by the sound of cracking rocks. Mikaen and One slowly turned back toward the dragon.

With another tremor, the dragon rose from the floor and let out a roar that set every fiber in Mikaen’s being on edge.

“Cyber-cripes.” One muttered as it stared at them with two glowing red eyes.

36: Chapter 35 - Breath of Fire

No one moved: not One, not Mikaen, and not the dragon.

Recovering from the initial shock, Mikaen whispered out of the corner of his mouth, “What happened to them not getting it working for weeks?”

“So I made a mistake. You can sue me if we live.” Flashing a quick glance at Mikaen, One added, “Not that I have any money.”

“You’ve got twenty-five shards.”

“Fine, you can have my twenty-five shards when-” One rolled his eyes and said, “This isn’t helping.”

“Just trying to lighten a tense situation.” Mikaen kept his eyes focused on the dragon; it was still watching them.

“Hang on.” One said, “I’ve got just the thing; wait here.”

The Dreamer ran forward and stopped a short distance from the dragon. Striking an impressive pose, he raised his hands and shouted, “TURBO CHEESECAKE!”

The dragon slowly walked toward him, its growl very much like the rumble of not-too-distant thunder.

“TURBO CHEESECAKE!” One shouted again. There was a definite note of panic in his voice.

The dragon began to inhale large amounts of stream energy from the surrounding air.

“Please turbo cheesecake?” One started to edge backwards.

Swearing, Mikaen ran forward, grabbed One by the back of his uniform and hauled him away from the dragon moments before it let loose a torrent of blue energy that melted the rock beneath where the Dreamer had been standing.

“I said ‘turbo cheesecake’ you stupid hunk of scrap! You’re supposed to shut down!” shouted One, still being pulled along by Mikaen.

The dragon crouched down, its massive wings opening until they seemed to fill the entire cavern.

Mikaen pulled One to the ground moments before the dragon shot by, its claws missing them both by mere inches. Without a backwards glance, it rushed through the tunnel, vanishing in the darkness beyond.

Mikaen and One looked at each other, their faces only a few inches apart.

“Well, that was certainly interesting.” said One.

“Get off me.”

One hopped up and pulled Mikaen to his feet. They ran toward the tunnel, the deep claw marks gouged into the smooth rock walls all that remained of the dragon.

Thinking through the more immediate questions, Mikaen chose, “What’s turbocheesecake?”

“Huh? Oh, the shut-down code. Yeah, we set these things up to go inert in case they fell into the wrong hands. Mikaen, you aren’t going to believe this, but I got a good look at the circuitry in that thing before they shooed us away and the dragon’s-”

“A dreadnaught.”

One looked slightly put out. “Yeah, the Breath of Fire. How did you know?”

Mikaen patted the symbol etched above the knight’s insignia on his right arm. “I saw this symbol etched into the claw and remembered our talk about Crash. It’s his symbol, right?”

“Yeah. He put it on pretty much everything he ever made.”

“But how did it get stuck in the floor of a cavern on Vinta?”

One shrugged. “Dunno. Coincidence?”

“Coincidence? Are you joking?”

“Just trying to lighten a tense situation.”

Mikaen couldn’t resist the urge to chuckle. “All right, fair enough. C’mon!”

As they neared the mouth of the cave, a Galden soldier came running toward them.

Mikaen started to reach for Truth, but the soldier ran past them, screaming “Run for it, mates! The bloody dragon’s gone wacko!”

One and Mikaen traded glances as the soldier disappeared into the depths of the cavern.

As they walked over the lip of the cave, however, they saw what had terrified the soldier so. The entire camp was in flames. The fire had already spread to the nearby trees, encircling the area in a blaze.

One poked Mikaen in the side and pointed; the dragon, a sleek black shape against the light of Everblue, dove toward the camp. With a loud rush of air, the metal beast let loose a blast of flame at a group of soldiers who were trying to escape.

Mikaen swore and started forward.

One grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back. “Are you nuts? What can you possibly do to that thing?”

“I don’t know!” Mikaen wrenched his shoulder free, “But maybe I can save some lives!”

“You mean the people who set that thing off in the first place?”

“They’re still people!”

For a tense moment, they just stared at each other.

As another blast of fire sent another tent up in flames, Mikaen turned, saying, “I don’t have time for-”

One interrupted, “You should be able to stop the fire blasts with your energist abilities. I wouldn’t waste energy tossing them back; that thing’s probably flame-proof. If you can, try and get the Galden soldiers into the forest; there’s at least a little more cover there. Oh, and watch out for more drones; the Breath of Fire held at least twenty of the damn things.”

Mikaen smiled and nodded. “And the dragon?”

“Let me worry about the dragon. You just take care of yourself so I don’t break my promise to your girlfriend, okay?” One turned and headed toward the rock wall, where a door had just appeared.

“How are you going to stop a dreadnaught?” Mikaen called out as One started through the CPD.

Grinning, One said, “Can’t let you in on all my secrets, can I?”

As One slammed the door shut behind him, Mikaen drew Truth and started running.

Though it was difficult to see through the haze, Mikaen made his way through the burning camp. It didn’t take long to find a group of soldiers.

Sergeant Jures was carrying Rael through the haze, Jinne following not far behind.

Glancing back, Jinne shouted, “It’s right behind us, sir!”

“Stay focused, Jinne!” Jures shouted back.

With a roar, the dragon dove toward them.

Rushing past the group, Mikaen held out both hands just as the dragon let out a blast of fire. It shot forward with frightening speed, yet stopped just short of him as though hitting an invisible barrier. The dragon gave out an angry shriek and flew away.

As Mikaen brought his hands down, he heard the clicks of three energy rifles behind him. Turning, he saw all three soldiers had their weapons trained on him.

“You’re welcome.” He said grimly.

“Who are you?” demanded Sergeant Jures. “Biggs was no mage.”

Mikaen pulled off his helmet, letting his white-tipped hair fall against his back. “My name’s Mikaen.”

To his surprise, the man lowered his rifle. Glancing at his fellow soldiers, the man said, “Easy, fellas! Don’t know why he’s here, but this fella just saved our lives.”

Mikaen nodded briefly at them. “We should head for the tree line; it’ll be harder for the dragon to track us.”

Jures stared at him for a long moment before nodding. “Okay then; you lead the way.”

As a group, they quickly moved toward the relative safety of the trees without sign of the dragon. Mikaen was worried; if that beast made it to Muonsol, it could raze the entire city to ash in a matter of hours. The Center would no doubt be able to fight it, but the city would likely be devastated.

The hairs on the back of his neck suddenly prickled.

“Everyone down!” He shouted, falling to the ground. The soldiers followed suite, and note a moment too soon; the dragon’s claws swiped through the air as it flew over them.

“By the Creator!” Jures shouted, helping the others up, “Does that damn thing have an eye out just for us?”

As the dragon spun, preparing another blast of fire, Mikaen shouted, “I’ll hold it off! Get to the trees!”

As the soldiers started running, Mikaen gritted his teeth and prepared himself for the coming blast.

 

Back at the Elsewhere, Two was lounging in the Matinee, his hands clenched tight around a game controller as he navigated an onscreen persona through a horde of zombies. He had been playing for several hours now in an attempt to beat the game without saving once.

“Come on, come on,” He muttered feverishly, his eyes bloodshot from lack of blinking. “Just a little further … just a little bit …”

A CPD appeared on a nearby wall. When One slammed it open, Two tossed his controller into the air, shrieking like a frightened child.

One rushed by him, in too much of a hurry to pay attention to his friend’s strange behavior.

Two peered out from the back of the couch as his friend and partner ran to the dreadnaught bay. “One? What the hell are you …”

“GAME OVER.”

Two’s attention went back to the panel television, where his persona was being ripped asunder by zombies. “Son of a flat-chested lesbian!”

One closed the door behind him. As he approached the central console, Rebecca’s hologram flared to life nearby.

“Could you show me the …” One stopped. Rebecca wasn’t looking at him. “Er, hello, Rebecca. Having a good day?”

She acted as though he had just appeared in the workshop. “Oh, hello One. I’m doing okay, I guess. Did you need something?”

“Could you show me every satellite and space station in orbit around Vinta capable of launching a dreadnaught?”

She flickered out of existence. A moment later, a large hologram of Vinta sprung to life in her place. It was surrounded with numerous small satellites and a few space stations, some of which began to glow bright red.

One pointed at a station that was currently above Ircandesta, saying, “There! Yaevin Station! How long will it take to configure the launch bay to accommodate a dreadnaught pod?”

“The Yaevin Station already is equipped with a Launch bay for dreadnaught-type vehicles.” said Rebecca, reappearing beside One.

“Really? How … never mind. It’s not important right now.” Shaking his head, One said, “Please prep the Final Fantasy for transfer.”

The door that led to the main part of his floor opened.

“Not now, Two.” One said without turning, “I’m in a bit of a rush.”

“What’s going on?” asked a feminine voice.

One turned to see Luck standing just inside the bay, her hands on her hips. For the first time in One’s experience, Luck did not look happy.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Some nut’s activated a dreadnaught on Vinta, damned if I know how it got there. I’m just making sure the playing field’s even.” He gave her a grin. “Don’t worry. I’ve updated every system in the Final Fantasy at least a dozen times. The Breath of Fire’s been stuck in rock for who knows how long. It’ll be a piece of cake.”

“Stop me if I’m wrong, but wasn’t the Breath of Fire built as a strictly combat model? The Final Fantasy is a multi-purpose dreadnaught. Even with the upgrades, it’s going to be a tough fight.”

“She’s got a point, One.” Rebecca commented idly.

Rolling his eyes, One said, “You stay out of this.”

Rebecca shrugged and vanished without another word.

“So the Breath of Fire may have a little more power than the Final Fantasy.” One said, trying to sound as though this were a minor detail. “Big whoop. I’m an experienced dreadnaught pilot. I’ll bring the Final Fantasy back without so much as a scratched plate.”

He started to walk over to the Final Fantasy, but Luck caught his hand and held it fast. “I’m not worried about the Final Fantasy, One! I’m worried about you!”

“Well that’s great but …” His voice fell flat as what she had just said made it through his brain. “You’re worried about me?”

“You push yourself so hard.” She slowly traced the rune on the back of his hand, continuing, “You run yourself ragged trying to help everyone without so much as a thought about yourself.”

“As flattering as that is, you know it’s not true.” said One, his face growing hot, “I snuck off to Vinta to avoid to work. If Mikaen hadn’t shown up, I’d probably still be asleep under my tree.”

“And yet you ended up helping Mikaen find his true love and a place he can truly call home. Now you’re rushing off to save him.”

“Well, I can’t just let him get burnt to a crisp or crushed after all the work I’ve put into this, can I?” One chuckled, but he wasn’t able to keep his nervousness out of his voice.

“One …” Luck put her hand gently against One’s cheek. “You don’t have to hide from me. I need to know if there’s a chance … for us.”

One’s heart felt like it was about to beat out of his chest. He put his hand over hers, whispering, “Luck …”

The transport pod enclosed the Final Fantasy with a loud clang, making both of them jerk away.

“I have to go.” he told her reluctantly.

“I … I understand.” Head bowed, she walked slowly toward the main room, where Two’s shouting could still be heard through the door.

One knew he had to say something. He knew she deserved more than silence, especially after spilling her heart out to him.

“Luck!” One called out.

She turned, looking hopeful.

“Could you stay here? In the Matinee, I mean. Until I get back.”

A small smile appearing on her face, she said, “Sure, One.”

Turning, One saw Rebecca watching them. As he walked by, he asked, “Are we ready for transport?”

“As soon as you’re in contact with the transport pod, I’ll send you to the Yaevin space station.”

“Got it.”

As both he and the pod were absorbed by the glowing light of the transporter, One muttered, “Mikaen thinks his life is complicated.”

37: Chapter 36 - Headache

A swirl of lights later, One found himself standing in an immense launch bay on the Yaevin Space Station.

The Yaevin Space Station was one of the last remaining remnants of the ancient Glyche civilization. It was a self-sustaining station that maintained a standard orbit around Vinta. Although abandoned, the station was still used as a relay station for Vintan communications.

One looked around the launch bay in disbelief. It had been surprising to learn that the station had a launch bay that could handle a Dreadnaught, but it was more than that; it wasn’t just capable of launching a dreadnaught; it looked as though it had been designed for just that purpose. Even the pod clamps were a perfect fit. There were slight differences, of course; it was a Glyche station, after all. Still, the similarity to the launch bays of the Star Ocean space station orbiting Earth was uncanny.

One would’ve liked to check it out further; unfortunately, he had more pressing matters to attend to. He ran to the console beside the pod bay and activated the station’s scanning systems. It took only a few moments to pinpoint the Breath of Fire.

“Still near the camp.” One muttered to himself, “Perfect. I don’t have to worry about collateral damage.”

 After setting the landing coordinates, he queried the computer as to how long it would take for the Final Fantasy to reach the planet.

“Ten minutes?!” He exclaimed as the countdown appeared on the screen, “Cyber-cripes … I’m gonna have to stall for time.”

The thought of having to face the bestial machine on foot was not comforting. “Still,” he reasoned as he summoned his combat gear, “I made a promise. What good am I if I can’t fend off a giant flying dragon-shaped robot capable of shooting out dozens of man-sized draconic drones, melting solid rock, and crushing me like a mosquito with its gigantic claws?”

One thought about what he just said as he connected Headache and his tek-boots to his combat harness. Shaking his head, he headed for the CPD, muttering, “Keep the happy thoughts coming.”

A swift walk through the open doorway brought him to brightly-lit forest. The fire from the dragon had spread to the nearby forest, filling the air with a thick smoke. One squinted at the night sky for signs of the dragon, but it was too hard to see with the fire and smoke spreading into the upper branches of the trees.

Hearing a chorus of clicks behind him, One turned around to see no less than ten soldiers pointing energy rifles at him.

Mikaen hurried forward, shouting, “Don’t shoot! He’s a friend!”

Sergeant Jures glanced at Mikaen a moment before nodding. “At ease, everyone.”

As the soldiers relaxed, One waved at Mikaen with a Headache unit-encased hand. “Sorry it took me so long, but I had a personal issue to take care of.” He looked at the soldiers, adding, “I see you made some friends.”

“Is that all you brought?” Mikaen asked incredulously.

One snorted as a glowing visor appeared before his eyes. “Whaddya mean ‘is that all’? These UBTs were specially modified by Crash specifically for the construction of dreadnaughts. I’ve even added a few neat modifications of my own.”

“And you expect to take that thing down on foot?” asked Jures.

One frowned at the Galden sergeant’s tone. “Yeah, I’m gonna walk out there and ask it to bend over so I can kick it in its sizeable backside.”

Rolling his eyes, he turned to Mikaen, saying, “The big gun’s gonna take about ten minutes to get here. All we gotta do is hold it off until them. Speaking of which, where’s the Breath of Fire?”

With a swipe of a claw, the dragon tore several nearby trees from the ground, leaving Mikaen, One, and the Galden troop exposed.

Undaunted, One raised his arms. With two loud clicks, twin barrels extended from the side of each UBT.

“Eat this!”

One let loose a barrage of three-inch thick rivets. Most of his shots either missed or bounced off the dragon’s tough scales, but a few well placed rivets punched through the heavy armor. The dragon might have been mechanical in nature, but the shots, while doing no apparent damage, made it react in pain. With a shriek, it rose back into the sky.

“Psh. Lightweight!” One said, pretending to crack the knuckles of his metal hands, “No problem.”

Three large egg-shaped objects hit the ground nearby.

“Cyber-cripes.” One muttered, quickly falling into a defensive stance.

Mikaen promptly followed suite, and not a moment too soon; the eggs began to twist and flip themselves into different shapes, one of which Mikaen recognized immediately as the same kind of drones as he and Tirinia had faced.

The other drones had no wings; instead, their arms ended with large spinning blades.

The ground drones leapt forward moments after their arms had finished changing, the whine of their spinning blades filling the air and raising the hairs on everyone’s neck.

One sidestepped the nearest drone and gave it a good smack with Headache. Before it could turn around, he tore its head off with a vicious twist.

The drone turned around, seemingly unperturbed by the loss of its head.

“Right.” One muttered, tossing the drone’s head aside.

As it leapt forward again, he ducked beneath the blades and hit it in the chest, opening fire with the rivet driver. The heavy bolts tore through the drone’s power core with little difficulty.

As the drone collapsed, Mikaen sent the other land drone flying with a blast of electricity. It didn’t stop it outright, but it did slow it down long enough for Mikaen to pierce its core with Truth.

Mikaen and One glanced at their handiwork a moment. “Not bad.”

They both jumped as a barrage of energy fire blasted the flying drone into scrap metal, mere feet away from Mikaen and One.

Turning to Jures, One asked irritably, “What the hell took you so long?”

“Sorry, first time fighting mechanical dragons that shoot out attack-bots.” said Sergeant Jures, grinning. “Besides, you guys seemed to have everything well in hand.”

“Not for long.” Mikaen muttered

More drones were landing all over the place; flying drones, spinning blade drones, and a few spidery-looking drones that moved across the ground at great speed.

Fortunately, the drones weren’t the only ones growing in number; more Galden soldiers had joined up with Jures’s group, drawn by the energy fire as they took out the drones. Slowly but surely, they were pushing the robots back.

After zapping another drone with a blast of lightning, Mikaen suddenly went pale.

“One!” He said, grabbing both of the Dreamer’s metal-encased arms, making him miss the flying drone he had been aiming at, “Tirinia!”

“She’ll be safe. The dragon’s still here, ain’t it?” The dragon roared overhead as though to confirm its presence.

“She’s already suspicious! I can feel it!”

“Now how do you know … right, you're bonded with Tirinia.” One gave himself a smack in the head with a metal-encased hand. It looked painful. “Ow! That’s great, One; give yourself a concussion. Perfect thing to have in the middle of a fight.”

“You have to tell her to stay away!” Mikaen insisted.

“Why? She’s more than capable of handling herself.” One looked at Mikaen’s pleading face. Sighing, he said, “Fine, but she’s probably not going to listen to me.”

He glanced at the indicator on the back of his right Headache unit. Only four minutes until the Final Fantasy reached the upper atmosphere.

“Four minutes, Mikaen. I’ll be back.”

The fiery battlefield swam in his vision. Moments later, One was surrounded by leaves and relative, non-flaming darkness.

One looked around to see Tirinia staring at him. What was of more immediate note, however, was the fact that he was about to fall off the tree branch on which he had appeared.

“Daah!” He knelt down and grabbed the branch firmly to keep his balance.

Tirinia approached with a grace that One would have envied had he not been otherwise occupied. She asked, “What are you doing here? Is something wrong? Something’s wrong, isn’t it?”

One intended to reply but the branch he was standing on abruptly gave way. Down he fell, fighting to keep the branches from slapping him in the face.

Finally, he managed to catch a low branch. He started to clamber up when he heard the sounds of shouting.

Some distance below, Tyrn was standing face to face with one of the idestan that had been captured. Rydiana was tugging on Tyrn’s arm, a fearful expression on her face as she tried to convince him to back down

Teria pushed her way through the group, demanding, “What’s in Nocturnes is wrong with you people? We aren’t even close Muonsol yet!”

Tyrn pointed a finger at the idestan. “This elf wants to desert your friends!”

“Really?” asked Teria, a dangerous tone in her voice as she looked at the accused.

Flushing, the idestan replied, “The longer we wait here, the more danger we are in of being discovered. Besides, Mikaen’s probably dead or captured already, and as for that weird Galden-”

Teria punched the idestan hard enough to knock him to the ground.

The idestan stared up at her in shock for a few moments before stammering, “Have you lost your mind?”

“Let’s get one thing straight, elf. I haven’t known Mikaen for long, but if my sister likes him then he’s a friend of mine and I never leave my friends behind. As for that other guy …” Her eyes narrowed into thin slits. “Well, I’m not letting anything bad happen to him either. If you want to go back to Muonsol, then go there yourself.”

Teria looked around the clearing at the rest of the group. “That goes for the rest of you too. Well?”

A tense silence filled the clearing.

Coughing, Maxim put his hands on his younger brother’s shoulders, saying, “Perhaps some of us should head to Muonsol, and let the Cygros know what’s up. He can probably help if your friend has been captured.”

“You volunteering, Max?”

“Actually,” Maxim said, rubbing the back of his head, “I wanted to help out.”

Teria snorted. “Fine. Jeronem, Kajex, you lead the others back.”

Jeronem’s ears stood up straight. “Hey! Mikaen’s like my brother! If he’s in trouble, I’m gonna go help him!”

“Hold it just a second!” Kajex called out over everyone supportive shouting, “We don’t even know that there’s something wrong!”

At precisely that moment, One lost his grip on the tree branch and came crashing through the lower branches of the tree. As proof that the universe has a sense of humor, he landed on Teria, unintentionally pinning her to the ground.

For a long moment, they stared at each other, both completely at a loss for words.

Shoving One off her, she shot a glare at Kajex. “That proof enough for you, Kajex?”

“Are you okay?” One asked worriedly as he helped her up. After all, he wasn’t exactly a small fellow, not to mention the thirty pounds of extra equipment he was wearing.

“Relax, One.” She dropped her stern expression for a moment and flashed him a crooked smile. “It’s not like that’s the first time you’ve been on top of me.”

Everyone stared. Shae started giggling most inappropriately.

One’s face felt like it was on fire, probably because she may well have been right. Fortunately, he was saved having to come up with a response when Tirinia landed on the ground, barely even making a thud.

 She strode over to One and lifted him by the collar of his shirt, demanding, “Where’s Mikaen! You promised you’d take care of him!”

“Whoa, easy Tyr!” Teria quickly separated her sister and the Dreamer, “Let the guy breath a little.”

“I have too much excitement in my life.” Shaking his head, One assured Tirinia, “Mikaen’s fine. He’s getting close to his Gineros, though, and he’s not in a good place to suddenly sprout wings. He sent me to-”

“To tell me not to come.” Tirinia interrupted.

One could tell from the look on her face that she was not happy with Mikaen’s attempt to be gallant. “Yeah, he did. However, I’m thinking you should.”

Tirinia looked at him strangely. “But you said-”

“The guy’s in love with you, Tyr; we guys do some pretty stupid stuff when we’re in love.” One couldn’t help but look at Teria for a moment.

Seeing her staring back, he quickly turned back to Tirinia, saying, “You can torment him about it all you want over the course of your very long life together. For now, I need you to pull his silly ass out of the fire so I can take care of the rest, okay?”

Tirinia smiled a little and nodded. Turning to the others, she said, “Everyone who wants to help, follow me!”

As Tirinia, followed by Jeronem, Maxim, and a handful of idestan headed off, presumably toward the camp, Teria approached One.

“You really haven’t changed a bit, have you?” she asked, a wry smile on her face.

“Of course I’ve changed.” He said, a little bothered by her tone, “I’m a Dreamer now.”

Still smirking, she brushed by him, her tail rubbing against his leg as she passed. “Whatever you say, One.”

38: Chapter 37 - On White-Feathered Wings

Mikaen blasted another drone into scrap with a well-placed electrical blast before leaning forward against Truth for support; between the fighting and using his energist skills, he was exhausted. At least his wings had settled … for the moment, anyway.

Sergeant Jures was there in an instant, patting him on the shoulder. “Take it easy, buddy. We’ll clear the rest of ‘em out.”

A surge of pain beyond anything Mikaen had ever felt before shot through his back. With a scream, he fell to the ground.

Jures knelt by him, shouting at his nearby troops, “Jinne! Rael! Cover us!”

The two soldiers quickly let out a hail of energy blasts at the nearest drones as the sergeant helped Mikaen away from the fighting.

Barely able to keep himself from collapsing, Mikaen asked, “W-what happened?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t see any weapon fire. You just-” Jures stood very suddenly and backed a way, whispering, “By the Creator!”

Mikaen didn’t have to ask what had startled the Galden soldier; he could feel his wings stretching against his back. It was an agonizing sensation, but at the same time, he felt the strangest sense of anticipation running through his body.

One appeared moments later, accidentally bumping into a whirring drone. He spun about and sliced the drone cleanly through its power core with a flick of a fusion blade. After staring at the dead drone for a moment, he shrugged and said, “Er, yeah. Let’s go with that.”

Shaking his head, One ran over to Mikaen and asked, “You okay, dude?”

“Do I look like I’m okay?” He hissed through clenched teeth.

“What’s going on?” Jures asked as One helped Mikaen take off his upper armor.

“I’m no biologist,” said One, setting Mikaen’s selanium-thread shirt beside his plated shoulder guards, “But I think his wings are about to tear out of his back.”

“His … wait, he’s a sentient?!” Sergeant Jures blasted a flying drone with barely a glance.

“Don’t worry,” One said, patting Mikaen’s arm, “Tirinia will be here in a minute, and-”

“WHAT?”

Mikaen grabbed One by the front of his shirt, hissing, “I said I didn’t want her here!”

One batted Mikaen’s arms away easily. “Don’t you think she should have some say in that? She’s a tigreth for crying out loud! She can take care of herself. More importantly, she can take care of you!”

“I’m not losing her like I lost Maria!”

One glared at Mikaen and yanked his arm free. “You lost Maria because she did the same damn thing you just tried to do!”

“Maria was trying to protect me-” Mikaen began angrily.

“Just like you were trying to protect Tirinia.” One put his hands on hips. “Is there really a difference?”

Mikaen opened his mouth to argue, but nothing came out. In a quiet voice, he asked, “Is she mad at me?”

“No, but she’s gonna give you hell for the rest of your very long life if you treat her like she’s some kind of fairy princess again.”

Mikaen chuckled. Despite the pain in his back, despite the smoke stinging his nostrils and the heat from the fire, despite the rain which slowly began to pelt him in the face, he laughed.

Jures looked at Mikaen, obviously discomfited by the strange turn in his behavior.

“I’m an idiot, aren’t I?” Mikaen asked quietly.

“In the typical in-love way, yeah.” One grinned at him. “Feeling better?”

Mikaen nodded, slowly straightening. “The pain’s mostly died down. How much time?”

One checked his indicator. “Two minutes. Speaking of which, where’s the Breath of Fire?”

Behind One, Mikaen spotted Tirinia and Teria emerging from the forest into the ravine, followed by Maxim, Jeronem, and a small group of idestan. Tirinia spotted Mikaen almost instantly and broke into a run.

Mikaen started to wave, but froze as he saw the answer to One’s question descend from the dark sky, its claws outstretched.

“BEHIND YOU!” he shouted.

Swearing, One activated his tek boots and shot forward, but Mikaen could tell he wasn’t going to get there in time. Teria was running now, glancing only for a moment at the dragon overhead.

One must’ve realized it as well; still moving forward, he opened fire with everything he had; bolts, slivers, and even a few bursts of compressed energy. He managed to blast off a few scales here and there, but the dragon remained intent on its target.

The idestan coming out of the forest behind the sisters opened fire, as did Maxim, his right arm transforming into an energy cannon, but most shots were absorbed by the dreadnaught’s thick armor.

Mikaen started running, even though he knew his tek-boot wouldn’t be enough. His back began throbbing worse than ever, but he didn’t care; he had to get to Tirinia first. As the pain peaked, he focused on Tirinia, driving out everything else but the thought of protecting her.

The pain broke and sent waves of relief through Mikaen’s body. The world rushed by in a blur of fire and rain as a gust of wind pushed him forward past One in a matter of seconds. He grabbed Tirinia and immediately shot straight up into the air mere seconds before the dragon roared past, its talons tearing into the now vacant ground.

As Mikaen rose higher and higher into the sky, he felt a sense of elation as his new muscles stretched and worked, finally freed from their prison. A quick glance back showed him what he already knew: two wings with feathers as white as snow now protruded from his back.

The wonder in Tirinia’s eyes quickly turned to terror. “Teria!” She screamed, pointing back at the dragon.

He turned in mid-air, his wings beating instinctively to give him the perfect view. At first glance, it looked like the dragon had grabbed a chunk of earth. As he kept looking, however, he realized that it had managed to partially catch Teria. She hung from the corner of a claw, her arm trapped in the mass of dirt.

Clutching Tirinia tightly, Mikaen flew toward the dragon as fast as his new wings could carry him. The dragon was fast, but with his energist skills providing an extra gust to move him along, Mikaen was just a little bit faster.

He wasn’t alone, however.

“INCOMING!” A blast of gray and green stripes rocketed past Mikaen, heading straight for the dragon.

One hit the side of the dragon, digging into the metal scales with the strength of Headache’s mechanical hands.

Teria turned to watch as One scrambled up the dragon’s side. Surprisingly non-panicked, she shouted, “Hurry up, already! My arm’s starting to get sore!”

“Hold on, Teria!” One shouted, though he wasn’t sure if she could even hear him. He clambered his way up to the creature’s back. It was extremely difficult; the dragon shook with every flap of its wings, threatening to throw him off. Still, he kept climbing upward, tearing out handfuls of scales with every grip he took until he was finally on top of the dreadnaught.

Walking on the back of the Breath of Fire was as difficult as climbing up the side; even with the magnetic lock on the boots, strong gusts threatened to send him flying with every step. Gritting his teeth, One shielded his eyes from the driving rain and slowly began to move forward.

As the creature dipped down slightly, One got a good look at the distant city of Muonsol, something he would have appreciated much more if he hadn’t been on the back of a rampaging dragon.

One felt his feet begin to slip. “Oh no!” he muttered, scrambling to gain a grip, but in moments, he was sliding down the slick scales of the dragon.

At the last instant, he managed to grab on to a spike on the tip of one of the extended wings. “Thank the Creeeeagh!”

The dragon stared at him, its long neck nearly bent double.

“Uh … hi.” said One, a foolhardy grin on his face as he hugged the dragon’s wing. “I don’t suppose … turbo cheesecake?”

It let loose a roar that made One’s ears ring. With a flick of its wing, the dragon sent One flying.

“Jerk!” he shouted, barely able to see as he fell.

By sheer luck, he managed to stop his fall by grabbing a thick tree branch as he flew past. After scrambling to the top, he spotted Mikaen and Tirinia not too far away. He started to wave when he realized that Tirinia was trying to say something.

“I can’t hear you!” He shouted through the howling wind and rain. She pointed at him frantically, still shouting.

A slow feeling of dread rising within him, One turned around to see the dragon’s teeth descending.

He grabbed the creature’s jaws just before he was shut in. His boots pressed against the bottom teeth and Headache firmly gripping massive canines, One slowly forced the dragon’s mouth open.

A rumble came from the inner-workings of the dragon. Looking down the throat, One could see flames gathering deep in the machine’s bowels.

“Cyber-friggin'-cripes!” he shouted, “Can’t you hold it for a sec?”

Gritting his teeth, he braced one arm against the creature’s mouth. It was enough to keep the dragon from eating him … barely. As he strained to keep the jaws from closing, he flexed his free arm. A can of his ‘special’ cola fell into his open hand.

“Cool and refreshing.” He muttered before lugging the can down the creature’s throat.

The can exploded halfway down the dragon’s throat, immediately blocking the passage with a massive chunk of solid ice. The dragon’s jaw suddenly went slack. A sickening jolt in One’s stomach informed him that both he and the dragon were falling. Grabbing the creature’s jaws with both hands, he threw its mouth open, and leapt free.

His feet hit the ground less than ten feet away. Stumbling slightly, he made a bolt for the trees, and not a moment too soon; the dragon hit the ground seconds behind him, its head smashing the ground where he had been standing.

One skidded to a halt near the base of a tree, gasping for breath. “Wow.” He managed to say between gasps, “That was interesting.”

The touch of a hand on his shoulder made him jump; literally and figuratively. He spun about, but it was only Teria, a concerned look on her face.

“Teria! You’re okay!” He was so happy to see her safe that he threw his arms around her and gave her a bear of a hug.

She winced, “Watch the arm! Ow! Let go of me!”

Remembering himself, One quickly released her.

She glared at him balefully, rubbing her injured arm. “I know it’s hard, me being so beautiful and all, but try and control yourself!”

“But … you were stuck. How did you get away?”

“I got myself out, thank you very much.” Sniffing, she added, “Still, I guess your distraction kinda helped. A little, anyway. So … thanks.”

“Null problem.” One glanced around. “Where are Tirinia and Mikaen, anyway?”

Teria pointed. One turned to see Mikaen landing awkwardly nearby, Tirinia still in his arms.

“Hey, Mikaen!” One shouted, “Nice job!”

Mikaen nodded breathlessly, stumbling a little as he walked.

Tirinia helped him stand, her face filled with worry. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine; I just feel a little worn out.”

“Yeah, the euphoria from your gineros is probably wearing off. Probably best to get him to a safe location for the time being.” One glanced around a moment before the entrance to the cave where the Breath of Fire had been entombed.

“There!” He said, pointing, “Take him there. Hurry up; the Breath of Fire’s not gonna be inactive forever.”

A loud roar told him that the dragon had managed to clear its throat. “Cyber-friggin'-cripes!” One shouted, “Cut me some slack already!”

Turning back to the others, he shouted, “Get moving! I’ll hold it off!”

He had only just started forward when the indicator on the back of his right Headache unit started ringing.

Looking to the sky, One shouted, “Thank you!”

As the dragon descended through the trees, One ran straight toward it.

“No! One!” Teria shouted, letting go of Mikaen’s arm.

One clamped both Headache units together and aimed them at the sky, shouting as loud as he could, “FINAL FANTASY!”

39: Chapter 38 - Decisive Battle

A beam of light shot from the joined Headache units, piercing through the thick clouds overhead.

One stood motionless as the dragon rumbled forward. Teria grabbed his arm, but he held his position. “Wait for it!”

Moments later, the Final Fantasy erupted from the clouds, moonlight shining off the smooth metal plating as it sped toward the Breath of Fire. With a thud that rattled the floor of the forest, it landed a few dozen feet in front of One and Teria.

Wasting no time, One leapt into the air and landed on the Final Fantasy’s outstretched hand. Hopping inside the cockpit, he strapped himself in and closed the blast doors.

He glanced at one of the numerous camera screens to see Teria and Tirinia slipping into the cavern, Mikaen in tow. Teria gave One a thumbs up before disappearing inside.

One nodded with satisfaction and turned his attention to the Breath of Fire just in time to see the Breath of Fire take flight. Gritting his teeth, he said, “Let’s see if all those modifications I made were worth the effort. Activate Impulse Mode!”

Wires shot from each console, each connecting to part of One’s gear: Headache, the tek-boots, the harness, and the integrated visor that sprang to life just in front of his eyes. With a toss of his head, he moved his hair away from the final connection point; the shiny datajack just behind his right ear. A cord shot from the main control consol and jabbed into the port.

One winced; the sensation of the long metal rod sliding into his skull wasn’t painful, but it was far from pleasant.

The view of the cockpit faded and was replaced instantly by a magnificent panorama of the forest. He could even see the distant city of Muonsol, the city lights glimmering in the night sky. The visor overlay was faintly visible, displaying heat signatures of the people on the forest floor and the massive form that was the Breath of Fire.

The Breath of Fire stared back at him, or rather, the Final Fantasy. The sudden appearance of another dreadnaught had taken it by surprise, even though the Breath of Fire was nearly twice the size of the Final Fantasy.

Under One’s direct control, the Final Fantasy leapt above the advancing Breath of Fire and landed on the dragon’s back with enough force to knock the beast flat against the forest floor.

Seizing one of the Breath of Fire’s wings in each massive metal hand, the Final Fantasy pressed its feet against the small of the dragon’s back and began to pull.

The dragon fought to throw off the smaller dreadnaught, twisting, turning, and knocking down massive trees as it tried to loosen the Final Fantasy’s grip.

The base of the wings slowly began to tear free from the Breath of Fire, sparks flying in every direction. With a final wrench, the Final Fantasy tore the wings from the Breath of Fire’s body.

With a roar, the dragon reared up on its hind legs. Having nothing to hold onto save the now disconnected wings, the Final Fantasy fell back and landed with an earth-shaking thud.

Staggering to its feet, the Final Fantasy jerked its head up in time to see the Breath of Fire rushing at it on all four legs.

“Daah!” The Final Fantasy rolled aside moments before the Breath of Fire crashed on by, reducing a dozen trees to kindling.

It occurred to One that Luck had been right; the Breath of Fire was a combat model whereas the Final Fantasy was a multi-purpose unit, designed for adaptability. Luck was always right, but unlike her sister Fate, she never gloated about it.

He found himself thinking about all the times she had been there for him. She had stayed with him day and night after he caught the flu during a particularly nasty assignment. She had cheered him up after Ukaroh left the Elsewhere. She was always willing to talk with him, even when he was being grumpy.

He had always thought she was teasing him with the flirting and the advances, but looking back, he couldn’t help but feel like he was fooling himself; he had always felt something for her, from the first day she had accidentally walked onto his floor.

This is an unfortunate side effect of the Impulse system: the direct neural link tends to stimulate the mind, particularly in the areas of memory. An experienced pilot can learn to keep his mind focused, but One hadn’t activated the Impulse system in over a century.

One was so preoccupied with thoughts of Luck that he didn’t notice the Breath of Fire until it was almost upon him. It tackled the Final Fantasy to the ground, talons tearing across the recently replaced plating.

Feeling as though his own chest had been slashed open, One impulsively raised the Final Fantasy’s foot and gave the Breath of Fire a swift kick in the midsection. His dreadnaught may have been the smaller of the two, but that didn’t mean it didn’t have a fair amount of power; the dragon was thrown back, reducing another group of trees into kindling.

As the Final Fantasy clutched its damaged chest, One swore at himself for losing control; yet even as he did, Luck swung back into his mind. Luck had been direct with him about her feelings. After skirting the issue for so long, wasn’t it time he did the same?

“Agh!” One clenched his eyes shut and shook his head. “Focus, One!”

As the Breath of Fire rushed forward, the Final Fantasy met it with a swift blow to the head that sent a rain of scales to the forest floor. The dragon-machine retaliated with a sweep of its claws, but the Final Fantasy caught them in time.

At first, the machines seemed matched in strength. Slowly, however, the Breath of Fire began to overpower the Final Fantasy.

As its claws inched closer and closer, One suddenly remembered the prototype fusion blade he had installed back when Teach was trying to convince him to help Mikaen.

“Worth a try.” One activated the system, praying to whoever was listening that the prototype would work.

The Final Fantasy’s right hand transformed into the prototype’s configuration. Moments later, a beam of energy shot from the Final Fantasy’s right hand, narrowly missing the Breath of Fire’s neck.

The Breath of Fire released the Final Fantasy and quickly backed away, its eyes staring straight at the glowing energy blade.

One rushed at the Breath of Fire, swinging his new weapon for all it was worth. Mere seconds before the prototype weapon would have sliced through the scales of the Breath of Fire, the energy blade sizzled and died.

The Final Fantasy skidded to a halt. Even the Breath of Fire, standing only a few yards away at this point, seemed a little confused at this turn of events.

One gave the hand with the weapon-arm a shake, muttering, “Stupid prototype!”

The Breath of Fire leapt forward, claws outstretched. As the Final Fantasy took a step back the energy blade burst back to life. The dragon veered away, but not far enough to keep the tip of the energy blade from tearing through its side.

With a scream of pain, the Breath of Fire spun around, swinging its heavily bladed tail. The force of the blow tore a gash across the Final Fantasy’s front torso armor plates and made the humanoid machine stagger backward.

No doubt sensing an opportunity, the Breath of Fire rushed toward the Final Fantasy. One brought up his hands to shield himself from the blow, but he knew it wouldn’t be enough. The Breath of Fire tackled the Final Fantasy to the ground.

One winced from the impact as the Final Fantasy hit the ground. He braced himself for the pain of the dragon’s claws ripping through the Final Fantasy’s armor, but it never came. Slowly, he opened his eyes a crack.

The Breath of Fire wasn’t moving. The glowing red eyes had gone dark. The deadly claws were lying limp on the ground on either side of the Final Fantasy.

With a grunt, One pushed the Breath of Fire off the Final Fantasy. One’s energy blade arm, still partially embedded in the Breath of Fire’s power core, flickered for a few moments before dying again.

It took One a few moments to fully register what had happened, but when it did, excitement rocketed through him with the force of a thousand dreadnaught power cores.

“I won!” he shouted, inadvertently making the Final Fantasy dance a small jig. Quickly coming to his senses, he deactivated the Impulse system. The world outside the Final Fantasy vanished, leaving him once again staring at the glowing consoles of the cockpit.

Punching the hatch release button, One undid his harness and leapt out of the dreadnaught. Landing lightly on the ground, One glanced around to see Teria and Tirinia approaching, Mikaen walking unsteadily with an arm around Tirinia’s shoulder.

“I told you I’d take care of it!” One said, pretending to brush the dust off his shoulders.

“Not bad, for a Dreamer.” Teria’s eyes suddenly widened. “One, watch out!”

Before One could ask what was wrong, Mikaen thrust his hand out at One. A lightning bolt shot from his hand and blasted the claw of the Breath of Fire mere seconds before it would have crushed One to a pulp.

His eyes wide, One slowly stood up and looked at the inactive claw a moment before turning back to Mikaen. “Uh … thanks.”

Mikaen immediately collapsed.

Tirinia knelt by his side, fear in her eyes. “Mikaen! Mikaen, can you hear me?’

One knelt down beside her and checked his pulse. With a relieved sigh, he said, “He’s just asleep. Poor guy’s had a hard night.”

“Oh, thank the Creator.” Tirinia whispered fervently.

One stood and popped his stiff neck. “Tell you what: I’ll send you back to Muonsol; I think we’ve all had enough exercise for now.”

One closed his eyes and concentrated. When he opened his eyes again, they were all in Mikaen’s room in Muonsol Palace.

As he hauled Mikaen’s unconscious form onto the bed, Tirinia said, “Thank you, One.”

One waved it off, saying, “Ah, this is nothing; I’ve carried heavier parts for the Final Fantasy.”

“Thank you for keeping your promise … and for bringing Mikaen and me together.” She gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Well, I’m glad I could help.” One said, his face feeling unusually warm.

The door was suddenly flung open, revealing an extremely disheveled Jyle. He looked around the room; Mikaen asleep with his white wings cupped against his back, Tirinia sitting by his side, and Teria and One standing by the bed. Everyone except Jyle was dressed for battle.

“Little red hearts?” Teria asked, her eyes on the Cygros’s boxer shorts.

Jyle ignored her, his eyes homing in on One almost instantly. “Narrator Number One. Why am I not surprised? Perhaps you’d like to explain why the delegation from Jai Vye and Rimstak just arrived with a small troop of Galden soldiers?”

One considered this for a moment before turning to Teria. “You know, it’s late, and I think I’d better be heading back before the others start to get worried.”

“Oh, no you don’t!” Jyle lunged at One, but the One was already back in the forest, standing beside the Final Fantasy. He hated to ditch the Cygros, but Luck was waiting. As far as One was concerned, she had waited long enough.

40: Chapter 39 - All's Well that Ends Well

The trip back to the Elsewhere was easy as compared to the rest of his night; sending things out of the Elsewhere was a great deal more difficult than bringing them back. The forest swam in his vision for a moment, and then he was back on in the dreadnaught bay on his floor.

One took a moment to lock the Breath of Fire into one of the docking stations, setting the wings on its back near where they had been severed.

The Final Fantasy settled back into its dock, the power cables clamping onto the back with a loud click. With a satisfied sigh, One slammed a Headache-armed fist on the hatch release button and leapt out of the cockpit before the door had finished opening.

The moment his foot hit the floor of the workshop, the door to the main floor banged open, revealing a worried-looking Luck.

“One!” She called out, hurrying over to him. “By the Creator, are you okay? Looks like the Final Fantasy took one hell of a beating.”

One looked at her. Everything he wanted to say seemed to cram into his throat at the same time.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, rubbing his cheek. “Are you hurt?”

After trying and failing to say anything for a few moments, he pulled her close and pressed his lips against hers. Her emerald green eyes widened, but she didn’t resist. Slipping her arms around his broad chest, she returned his kiss eagerly.

“Glen …” She whispered when they released, “Are … are you sure?”

One nodded. “Yeah. I mean, if you still want someone as silly as-”

She kissed him before he could finish the sentence. One ran his hand through her long hair; his heart felt like it was about to burst from his chest.

Her face still close to his, Luck whispered, “I just want you to know …”

She suddenly stiffened in his arms.

“What’s wrong?” One asked as she slipped from his embrace.

She slowly backed away, her gaze on something behind One.

One glanced around to see she was looking at the Breath of Fire. “Oh, right. You were right; tough fight. Nothing I couldn’t handle, though.”

She continued to back away, her face pale.

Concerned, One took her hand, asking, “What’s wrong, Luck?”

A flash of fear crossed her face. No, fear wasn’t the word; her expression was one of terror. Without a word, she slipped from his grasp and made a run for the nearest floor access door.

“Wait, Luck!” One caught her shoulder just before she slipped through the door, and turned her around. To his surprise, she was crying; One had never seen Luck cry before.

Putting his hands on her shoulders, he asked in his most gentle tone, “What’s wrong, Luck? Did I do something wrong?”

Without warning, she threw her arms around him and kissed him.

He moved to hold her, but his hands closed around thin air. Luck was gone.

He stood there for a long moment, her warmth still on his skin, her scent in his nostrils, and the taste of her tears salty on his lips. Turning back to the Breath of Fire, One asked aloud, “What just happened?”

Shaking his head, he hurried to the door to the main part of his floor and nearly bowled over Two and Wong as they walked into the dreadnaught bay.

“Whoa!” Two said, putting his hands on One’s shoulders, “Where’s the fire, buddy?”

“Did Luck just come out of my floor?”

“You mean the pretty blonde lady who gives me candy?” Wong asked, perking up, “Yeah, she just appeared outside the door and ran past us. I think she was going for a plumber ‘cause her face was leaking.”

Two cuffed Wong on the back of his head, “It’s called crying, moron.” Looking back at One, he asked, “You made her cry?”

“I don’t … I mean, I don’t think …” One let out a sigh. “Look, I just got back, and she was here, and I … I kissed her.”

“You kissed, huh?” Two did a double take. “Wait, you actually manned up and kissed her?”

Blushing, One said, “Yeah. Look, that’s not the point.”

“And she ran away? You must be a lousy kisser.”

One felt cheeks grow even hotter. “Not funny, Two.”

“I know, I know; Take it easy, One.” Two chuckled a moment before adding thoughtfully, “That is a bit weird though.”

“Hey!”

Two shook his head, saying, “I don’t mean like that; Luck’s been waiting for you to come to your senses for over two-hundred years.”

“I … wait, what?”

Two shrugged. “I told you she really liked you.”

While they were talking, Wong had taken the opportunity to sneak over to the Breath of Fire. His eyes as wide as baseballs, he leaned back to get a better view until he nearly fell backwards. “Whoa, cool! A giant robot! Hey Two, why don’t you have a giant robot on your floor?”

“Get away from there!” Two snapped.

One waved him off, saying, “It’s inactive now. Still not sure what it was doing in Ircandesta, though.”

“Maybe that Cygros guy knows somethin’.” Two suggested, “I mean, it’s his country, right? You’d think if anyone would know, it’d be the king elf.”

They watched as Wong climbed over the machine like a cat trying to find a place to sit.

“Are you sure it’s okay for him to be doing that?” Two asked, his hands twitching slightly.

“It’s fine,” One assured him, “He can’t hurt it.”

Two shrugged. “If you say so. Well, however it ended up on Vinta, it’s here now. Hey, you’re done with your assignment now, aren’t you?”

Surprised, One fished the assignment instructions out of his pocket and scanned it over to find Two was correct; the last thing on the list was making sure Mikaen returned to Muonsol safely, which One had already finished.

As Two clapped him on the shoulder, One felt strangely hollow. It was over? Already?

One shook his head. “There’s gotta be more. I’m gonna go check in with Teach.”

Wong hopped off the Breath of Fire, having finished his inspection of it. He ran up to One and asked, “Can I have it?”

A mental image of Wong flying around mainstream reality in the Breath of Fire and the havoc that would ensue ran through One’s head. “Not a chance.”

Wong and pouted. “Puh-lease?”

Rolling his eyes, One ignored him and asked Two, “What about Luck? I know I’m not the ladies man you claim to be; did I do something wrong?”

“With Luck? No idea. The female mind is harder to predict than this weirdo.” Two jerked a thumb at Wong, who was still poking around the Breath of Fire, “Tell you what; if I see her first, I’ll see what I can find out.”

“Thanks, man.” One gave Two a comradely punch on the shoulder.

Two opened his mouth to reply when his eyes focused on the Breath of Fire. “Hey! Knock it off, Wong!”

Wong, who had produced a mallet and was playing the Breath of Fire’s teeth like a xylophone, looked up at his mentor and shrugged.

Leaving Two and Wong in the dreadnaught bay, One left his floor and headed for the Library. Twice, he almost doubled back and headed for the mall instead; both times, he decided to go ahead and confirm that his assignment was complete. If Luck didn’t want to be found, he wasn’t going to find her.

As One entered the library, he called out, “Teach! Yo, Teach! You here?”

Books all over the library took to the air like a flock of startled birds and clobbered him in a cloud of musty pages and leather binding. Teach rushed around the corner moments later. With a wave of his hand, he sent the books back to their respective perches.

One was no worse for the wear. “Thanks, Teach. I’m … aack!”

The large book on which One was now sitting dumped him unceremoniously onto the floor and gave him a good wallop to the head before flying back to its proper shelf.

Teach chuckled as he helped One to his feet. “Come on, One; you know better than to startle them like that.”

One shot a nasty look at the book he had been sitting on. It fluttered slightly on its shelf, like a bird settling down in its nest.

Teach chuckled. “Did you enjoy yourself last night?”

“Yes, I …” One glared at Teach, his mind finally making the connection. “You knew all along, didn’t you? All the little side missions and sneaking around … all of it was just window-dressing! It had to be me who took the assignment because I have the Final Fantasy.”

Teach smiled. “How did she perform?”

One cracked his knuckles. “I took a few hits, but the Breath of Fire was no match for me.”

“Ah, the Breath of Fire. That was another of Crash’s dreadnaughts, wasn’t it?”

One nodded. “One of the three first. Actually, the Breath of Fire’s why I’m here; what was a dreadnaught built on Earth-”

“-doing in Ircandesta?” Teach finished, “That is indeed a good question. You could investigate it if you want, but I’d recommend waiting until after your well-deserved vacation.”

“Huh? But shouldn’t I-”

“No, you shouldn’t.” Teach smiled at him. “You’ve completed the assignment, One. Great job, as always.”

So it was true. One still had trouble believing it. “Are you sure?”

Teach laughed, saying, “Quite sure. Now, as I recall, I made a promise to you. I believe you wished to take a vacation? I’ve taken the liberty of spreading word through the Elsewhere that you are not to be disturbed for any reason.”

“Oh. Great.”

Teach gave him an odd look. “Why so gloomy? You did a good job, One. You helped Mikaen find a home, a purpose, and someone to care about.”

“Yeah, you’re right. It’s just …” One let out a sigh. “Have you seen Luck?”

“Not recently. Why? Is something wrong?”

“She kinda ran off on me.”

Teach seemed just as surprised as One. “She just disappeared? That is unusual. Was she acting strange?”

“No, she seemed happy, then she saw the Breath of Fire and ran off.” One let out another sigh. “I don’t understand it.”

“That is strange. I’ll tell you what.” Teach said, putting an arm around One’s shoulders, “You go ahead and take your vacation. I’ll ask Karma about Luck, maybe do a little poking around of my own, and then I’ll let you know what’s up.”

“Thanks, Teach.” One said gratefully.

“No problem, my young friend. Will you be heading out now?”

“Nah, I’ve got something I want to check on first.”

41: Epilogue - Good Night, True Knight

Mikaen awoke from his dreams feeling more refreshed than he had in years. He sat up slowly and set his feet gingerly on the floor, a reflexive flap of his wings lifting him off the bed.

Mikaen walked past the couch where Teria was currently napping and stepped out onto the balcony. He stretched his arms and back, his wings reflexively extending as far as they could go.

“Ah, you’re awake.” Teria wiped the sleep from her eyes and watched Mikaen with a smile as he stretched his wings, his feathers rustling slightly as a breeze passed through the window.

With some difficulty, Teria managed to get to her feet. As she tried to rub some feeling back into her legs, she asked, “You feeling okay?”

“I feel great!” Mikaen let out his breath slowly, his wings retracting against his back as he let his arms fall to his sides. “Better than great, actually.”

Teria grinned at him. “I’m not surprised; you’ve been asleep for three days.”

Mikaen looked at Teria in surprise. “Three days?”

Limping to the rail of the balcony, Teria said, “Some kind of sentient Gineros recharge thing. Trystan tried to explain it to us, but I wasn’t really listening.”

Mikaen asked, “Where’s Tirinia? Is she okay?”

“Sis? She’s sleeping right now. Y’know, she sat with you for two whole days before she finally konked out.”

Teria smiled and put a hand his shoulder. “She really cares about you. You feel the same way, right?”

Mikaen blushed, but his smile made his feelings on the matter quite clear.

“Ha! Good.” Walking more or less normally, Teria headed for the door. “I’ll let you get dressed now. I’m ready for a little bit more napping myself.”

As she started to go, Mikaen asked, “Could you tell Tirinia something for me? When she wakes up, of course.”

“Sure. Whatcha got?”

Rubbing the back of his head, he said, “Tell her … thanks for watching over me.”

She chuckled as she headed for the door. “Take it easy, Mikaen.”

As she shut the door behind her, Mikaen caught a glimpse of his profile in a mirror. He spread his silvery-white wings wide, crouching as though about to take flight. He pulled them tightly against his back, so that only the very tips were visible, brushing against his ankles. They fit his back quite naturally.

“What can I say, dude? The wings definitely suit you.”

Mikaen smiled at the sound of One’s voice. “You were watching over me too?”

“Nah.” One said as he sat on the edge of the bed, “Just got here. How are you feeling?”

“It’s strange,” Mikaen said, stretching his wings out again. “I had trouble imagining what it would be like to have wings. Now, I can’t imagine not having them.”

One shrugged. “Genetic memory. Go figure.”

As Mikaen spread his wings wide, a sudden thought occurred to him.

“One,” He asked, “How did the Breath of Fire get here?”

“I’ll be damned if I know. Don’t worry; I’ve got her back at the Elsewhere, so there won’t be any more accidents.”

A rush of thoughts passed through Mikaen’s head: the suspicious behavior of the monks, the kidnapped delegates, and the Breath of Fire belching fire into the sky all pointed to something, but what?

“There’s something else going on, isn’t there?” Mikaen asked, “I mean, this mess with the Breath of Fire is just the beginning, isn’t it?”

“Maybe.” Seeing Mikaen’s annoyed glare, One laughed. “Don’t worry so much, Mikaen; I’m sure you’ll have plenty of time to find your answers later. For now, I suggest you take a day to relax, get used to your wings. I bet flying would be a lot of fun.”

Mikaen snorted. “I’m sure you’ve flown thousands of times.”

“I’ve flown in machines, and there was this one time I fell off the Golden Gate Bridge, but actually flying, just me in the sky? Not in mainstream reality. To be honest, flying in the Dream Realm just isn’t the same.” One looked wistfully out the window as several birds flew by.

“Can’t you just use your abilities to grow wings?” Mikaen asked curiously.

One snorted. “I wish. Nah, I can’t change my physical shell that easily yet.”

“Yet?”

“It’s one of those things that really require a lot more training and practice and stuff. Time manipulation, shape shifting, and teleportation get easier with time and practice. A few more centuries and I’ll get there.”

Mikaen raised an eyebrow at this. “Just how old are you?”

“About five hundred I think.” Smiling apologetically, he added, “I don’t really keep track of the exact number.”

After looking over the Dreamer for a moment, Mikaen said with a grin on his lips, “You don’t look a day over three-hundred.”

They both chuckled a moment before falling silent.

“Well, you seem to be okay.” said One, hopping to his feet, “I’ll just be on my way.”

“One? Could you do me a favor?”

“I AM doing you a favor, Mikaen. That’s why I’ve been helping you.”

Mikaen chuckled. “I was wondering if you’d deliver something for me, if it’s not too much trouble.”

One shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”

Mikaen pulled the data chip from the chain around his neck. Giving it a final glance, he tossed it to One.

One caught it and looked at it curiously. “Is this what I think it is?”

Mikaen nodded silently.

“What happened to all that ‘It’s my duty’ crap?” One asked as he slipped the chip into his pocket.

“What with the monks and Tirinia …” Mikaen flushed. “I feel that my place is here.”

Smiling reassuringly, One said, “I’ll make sure Syrin gets it … and that she knows you’re okay.”

As One’s hand closed around the door, Mikaen asked, “You’re not coming back, are you?”

One let out a sigh. “I didn’t want to say anything.”

“Will I ever see you again?”

“You never know.” One sighed. “Probably not, but that’s a good thing.”

“A good thing?”

“You’ve got a home, friends, someone to care for … and a bit of a mystery to keep you busy. If I hung around, I’d just get in the way.”

Mikaen bowed his head. “I guess this is goodbye.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

Without warning, Mikaen spun One around and gave him a comradely hug.

“Thank you, my friend.” Mikaen whispered.

One whispered back, “Take care of Tirinia … and yourself.”

As One started to leave again, Mikaen called out, “One more thing, One.”

“Sure. What?”

Mikaen grinned. “The Final Fantasy, huh?”

One laughed. “What can I say? I’m a gamer, through and through.”

Still chuckling, One gave Mikaen a small bow and left the room.

Teria was waiting for him outside. Her hands on her hips and a red gleam in her eye, she demanded, “Just leaving again?”

One shrugged. “The assignment’s over. There’s nothing left for me to do.”

“How can you say that after last night? If you go, who’s gonna save the day when things go wrong?”

One pointed to Mikaen’s room. “Try the local talent pool.”

“Oh, very funny. Don’t get me wrong; Mikaen’s a great guy, but he’s not even close to you.” Teria blushed and quickly added, “I mean, you’re a Dreamer.”

“I can’t become a crutch for Mikaen, or everything I’ve done will be worthless.”

She turned around, and crossed her arms. “Fine. Just leave then, like you did last time.”

“Teria …” One began. She didn’t reply.

Sighing, One turned and began to walk away. He had hoped they could at least be friends. Maybe Two was right; maybe he was just too optimistic.

As his hand closed around the handle of the CPD, Teria said, “Promise me.”

“Promise you what?”

“Promise me that you won’t forget me again.”

One closed his eyes. For an instant, he was back at Yuna Lake, looking into the eyes of a young Teria. His mind was full of uncertainties, but he knew there was only one thing he could say, no matter how much trouble it caused him.

“I promise.”

 

One let out a sigh after he reappeared on his floor. He felt tired, more tired than he had felt in ages.

Teach was sitting on the couch, flipping through a black leather-bound notebook. Glancing up at One’s approach, Teach smiled. “Ah, excellent. Well, you off for your vacation?”

“Yup. No interruptions this time, right?”

“Correct.” Teach snapped his fingers, saying, “Oh, by the by; did Mikaen give you the data chip?”

“Yeah, it’s right here.”

As soon as he had fished the chip out of his pocket, Teach whisked it away. “Tell you what; I’ll go ahead and deliver this for you.”

“But I promised-”

“To get it to Syrin, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do. You have my word on it.”

With a sigh, One said, “Your word’s good enough for me. By the way, whatever happened to the Galden soldiers at the ravine?”

“Most of them went back home to report what happened. The leader and a small troop went to Ircandesta to speak with Jyle. You know, boring political stuff.”

“Boring is right. On that note,” said One, suppressing a yawn, “I think I’ll head for bed.”

Rising from the couch, Teach headed for the nearest door. “Enjoy your rest, my friend. You’ve earned it.”

Once Teach was gone, One headed toward the private section of his floor. Reality fell away as he walked down the hallway; the carpet became soft grass, the cool rush of air conditioning became a warm breeze, and the walls of his floor faded, leaving only the twilit skies of the Dream Realm. In moments, he stood alone on his floating island, beneath the broad limbs of his tree.

He wasn’t alone for long. Nixil appeared with a poof of smoke, looking as cranky as ever. One look at the Dreamer’s face, however, made Nixil’s scowl fade.

Landing on One’s shoulder, Nixil asked, “You okay?”

“Yeah. I’m just tired, that’s all.”

“Headin’ right out again?”

“Nah. I think it’s time to finish my nap.”

“Mind if I join you?”

One smiled at his Nixil. “Sure.”

As One sat down, the trunk of the tree shifted so that he would be more comfortable. Nixil curled up on his stomach and sighed contentedly as One rubbed his furry little head. In moments, both Dreamer and nixil were asleep in the warm light of the distant Solarius.