Izuka cracked an eye open, and finding himself sprawled on hard cold ground, chilly water seeping into his clothing, he pushed himself up with surprising speed for one with a hunchback and the weight of years.

Blinking blurrily in the daylight, he felt around for his monocle, conveniently and easily attached to his fur-lined robe. Sliding it in, he peered at his surroundings.

Those ursurpers! They were still here, flaunting their idiocy, their misunderstanding of his great work! Izuka raised his hands, preparing to smite them into oblivion, and then registered the absence of his tome, Balberith. This was enough to set off alarm bells in his head, so he immediately tried to find out what was wrong.

Izuka looked down. He was there, too. And he was standing. But he was down there, on the ground, broken and bloody – completely illogical. "This is inconceivable!" Izuka protested, "Absolutely preposterous! I...! I can't have…perished…at the hands of those…imbeciles!"

Izuka looked at his hands once more, noting the slight translucence of his skin and the fact no one could hear him. (Throughout his tirade, not one person had paid any sort of attention to the deceased summoner.) Izuka growled out another sentence condemning his executioners – "Curse them, they can't see the larger picture…they don't know how my work produced the olivi grass and that laguz gem…yes, that was thanks to me! Just one little raven I experimented on…only one! After I cut the wings off, it didn't matter how much I helped…they just condemned me, the fools!"

Izuka watched them leave, cursing them. That boy-king was even carrying his tome, his! The tome he had created through long nights locked in his lab, calling the powers of darkness down to imbue a book with their frightening power.

Now, after he had properly cursed his killers, he pondered what he was supposed to do. Yes, he had been allowed to return from the dead, but what purpose would he serve as an intangible, imperceptible, inaudible being?

His thoughts were disrupted by a voice. A voice that sounded extremely close and at the same time at a very large distance away. "Hello, Izuka."

He turned slowly. Izuka recognized that voice. The thing was, the majority of the time Izuka heard that voice, it had been screaming itself hoarse from pain. The voice spawned images of blood and scar tissue in Izuka's mind, and he smiled. He had been so close...that raven had almost survived.

Izuka was whipped back to the present by the voice again. "Izuka, I'm talking to you."

"Do not speak to me that way," Izuka commanded, irritation lacing his voice, "I have enough troubles as it is, Essian, without you disturbing me as well."

The dead raven laguz punched him. "I don't care, Izuka! You took them from me. You deserve to pay for what you did!"

"You're mad, Essian. My work was for the betterment of our kind, the transformation of laguz into perfect killing machines. I only wanted to see if you kept your wings when you transformed, but you died before you could transform for me." Izuka rubbed his jaw, wincing slightly. "There was no need for that, you pathetic sub-human."

Essian threw up his hands and swore. "And now I'm stuck with you for eternity. Just perfect."

Izuka frowned. "What do you mean, eternity?"

"I mean exactly what I say. We're stuck here forever."

Izuka sighed, muttering long strings of abuse about the Goddess under his breath. Essian had begun to walk away, leaving Izuka behind. Unbeknownst to Izuka, Essian had noticed something that Izuka hadn't yet – Izuka would discover it soon.

There was a growl.

Izuka had never turned faster in his life. He was confronted with a multitude of cat, dragon, and tiger laguz, all, contrary to the lack of the ability to display emotions that animals had, looking very, very angry.

"Good bye, Izuka!" Essian called, waving at him from behind the horde. "Too bad you can't die!"

The laguz advanced. "No." Izuka said. "No. Get back. I controlled you! You can't attack me!" Izuka scuttled backwards, and then turned to run, yelling, "Leave me! I am your master! I created you!"

The tigers pounced, followed by the cats. Claws tore, talons rent, teeth bit. Cloth ripped, and blood flew in intricate arcs and spurts. All through this, a high, keening scream for help that mingled with the laughter of the vengeful laguz provided the perfect music.

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Author's Note: I've puzzled out why, exactly, I need to leave something like this. It's so I can broadcast my low self esteem. I don't really like this one either; in fact, I hated writing it because Izuka was one of my favorite characters. (I'm changing the name from author's note to "self-deprecation zone.")

Unfortunately, my plot ideas never ever ever leave me alone. So you have this. Looks like Tibarn got his wish after all.

Criticism is appreciated, and so is praise (I bet you can guess which one I like more), so please, review. Although, personally, I don't think this merits praise, unless a person posts something like: "OMG, I'm so happy you wrote something like this, I hated Izuka!"

Anyway. Review, basically. Or else.