The Demon's Son

by lashonheugen

The story is ongoing. Please let me know what you think. If you know a good title for the book let me know.

This story is not finished yet.

Please let me know what you think of it.

If you guys know a good title for this book then let me know.

Prologue:

When Malthus arrived at the upper level of the castle where the roof was broken it began to rain. The sky was dark and thick with storm clouds, but there were a few patches where the clouds broke and the night sky could be seen. As the first drops of rain began to fall, Malthus closed his eyes and let them fall on his face, drenching his brown hair. The rain grew heavier. He listened to its repetitive rhythm as the raindrops splashed onto his red leathered jacket, soaking the fur collar and dripping from his gloved fingers onto the stone ground.

Malthus opened his eyes. Standing across from him was a tall young guy with blond hair that was brushed back over his head and pressed flat by the rain. His long blue trenchcoat was slick with water, but the rain did not bother him. The young man raised his weapon a long steel-bladed katana and pointed it at Malthus.

Malthus grabbed hold of his own sword and pullet it out of the ground that got stuck in the fight. The image of a demon cross was carved into the side of the blade, along with a matching keychain dangling from the hilt. Malthus also wore a heavy metal necklace with that very same cross around his neck. Holding his sword with both hands, Malthus charged at his opponent. The blond man waited a moment before he charged as well.

The two young men clashed blades and the air became filled with sounds of battle. The blond man had superb skill with a sword they both did, fighting with equal skill and vigour. Malthus raised his sword and brought it down. His opponent dodged it smoothly and ran past it. Malthus turned. the blond man was standing behind him with his sword resting against his shoulder. With a mocking smile on his face he gestured for Malthus to come at him again.

Malthus did as he bade and charged. Again and again the two men crossed blades, swiping and slashing and stabbing, each one trying to catch the other off-guard. His opponent thrust his blade forward in a stabbing blow, narrowly missing Malthus. Malthus then brought his blade down again, but his opponent caught the blow easily on the flat side of his sword. They pushed against each other, but his opponent came out stronger and pushed him back. The blond man swiped his sword across him and Malthus ducked down to avoid the blow. He was then forced to jump back out of the way as another blow came whizzing past. The rain had stopped at this point but the ground was still slick; Malthus could feel his boots slide across the wet ground as he charged forward. He attacked in a ferocious assault, landing numerous hefty blows at his opponent. The blond man raised his sword and blocked every one of the blows, letting them ring off his sword.

Seeing that he was getting nowhere with a direct assault, Malthus jumped back once again. He decided to try using magic to distract his opponent, and then strike while his attention was diverted. Malthus charged forward with his hand held out, calling on the magic stored within him.

However the blond man had thought of this too, and was already making his move. Flames began to swirl around his outstretched hand, gathering into a ball in the palm of his hand. The flames glowed white-hot before firing out at Malthus. Malthus barely had time to raise his sword to defend himself before the magic hit him. He was thrown clean off his feet and fell onto the wet ground. Steam rose from his clothes as the heat from the rapidly vanishing flames caused the raindrops to evaporate.

Before him, his opponent smiled smugly. This battle was his, and he knew it.

Malthus grunted and climbed onto his knees. a shadow fell over him and he looked up to find his opponent standing over him. The blond man's blue eyes looked down on him almost cruelly as he raised his blade over his head, preparing to strike. For the first time in his life Malthus froze, staring as his opponent brought the blade down. It sliced across his face, cutting a long but shallow gash down his forehead and onto his cheek.

He felt the warmth of blood on his face. As he watched it spilled onto the ground in front of him, forming a puddle.

Malthus stared in shock for a brief moment before his eyes narrowed angrily. He glared up at his opponent, standing in front of him with Malthus's his blood on his blade. He was still smiling.

Anger welled up within Malthus. He stood, his boot sliding on the ground, and swung his blade. The tip scraped across the ground as he brought it up and slashed it across the face of his opponent, who only had time to tilt his head back. The blade slashed across his opponent's face in the same manner. Blood spilled down Malthus his blade.

Then... everything went white.

Chapter one: The unkown world

When Malthus opened his eyes, he found himself lying on his back in the infirmary. A cool breeze was blowing in from the open window, making the curtains over his bed flutter. Light streamed in from outside; it was morning. From his position on the bed he could just about see the blue sky, and watched as a few small clouds drifted by. The storm had passed, it seemed.

Malthus turned his eyes away from the window and looked up at the ceiling. He felt something tight wrapped around his head, probably a bandage. How did he get here from the castle? He couldn't remember. The last thing he remembered was falling onto the ground, and then everything had gone black. Malthus tried to sit up, but as he moved a sharp pain shot through his head. He grunted and clenched his fists, gritted his teeth against the pain. When the pain passed he relaxed and exhaled slowly. He heard footsteps enter the room and a voice spoke to him.

"How are you feeling?"

Pushing the pain to the back of his mind, Malthus forced himself to sit up. His vision swam and there was a piercing pain behind his left eye. It shot through his head and made him feel sick. Malthus put his hand to his head and closed his eyes for a moment. He felt the bandage, wrapped tightly around his head.

"…Ok," he replied.

The pain started to ease and Malthus dared to open his eyes again. He looked up at the person standing beside the bed. It was a nurse. She was middle-aged and very jolly looking, and was very well liked by the rest. She had a temper, though, and spoke her mind without reservation. She looked like he had a few words for Malthus, for her brows came together and she frowned at him.

"Take it easy next time, you hear?" she said sternly, waving her finger at him. Malthus said nothing. The nurse leaned over and examined his face carefully. "Looks like your eyes are focusing," she said. "You should be fine. Say your name for me."

"Malthus."

The nurse stood up straight and nodded her head. When she first saw the wound, she had feared potential concussion. But like she said, Malthus his eyes were focusing and, aside from a little drowsiness left over from the sleeping draught she had administered, he seemed to be thinking clearly. That would pass quickly enough, though she guessed he would have a headache for a while.

When the nurse left the room Malthus tried to stand up, but his legs are to weak to stand. After a couple of minutes he tried again but slowly. He walked to the door when suddenly Malthus saw an older girl behind the window. "We meet again at last" said the girl. The girl looked familiar to Malthus, but he didn't know from where. When the girl walked out of the room Malthus past out.

The next morning Malthus waked up on the bed. He asked himself how he did get back on the bed. The nurse walked into the room and looked at Malthus. "I said that you needed to rest why didn't you listen to me?"

"I need to get back" Malthus replied.

"Back to where?"

"Back to where I came from."

"But you don't remember where you came from?" Malthus really didn't know where he came from, but he didn't care he wanted to get back no matter what.

"Do you know where i come from?" He asked.

"No i don't know, but maybe Lucas knows where you come from."

"Who is Lucas?" Malthus asked.

"He is a teacher and he is training the students to fight Sorceress Celestine. He is available tomorrow so please take a rest tonight."

When Malthus waked up the next morning he was still thinking about what the nurse said.

He stood up and walked to the nurse who was sitting behind a desk just outside his room.

"Who is Sorceress Celestine?" Malthus asked.

"Don't you know that? Go to Lucas he is in the classroom on the second floor." "He will explain everything to you." "first go get you're weapon back. It's next to the bed."

When Malthus found the second floor he was searching for the classroom.

"There are so much classrooms, Malthus said. Which one is the right one?" After a couple of minutes he found the room but there was nobody in the room. He waited for half an hour when a man walked in the room. The Man had black hair and blue eyes. He looked at Malthus and asked:

"Who are you?"

"I am Malthus, the nurse said that i should come to you."

"Come to me?" Why?

Malthus explained everything that happened and then asked About Sorceress Celestine.

"Sorceress Celestine is our enemy. He has an army of her own called The Crimson Corps and this place is called Nexus garden. Here we train people to fight Sorceress Celestine."

"Now let me show you around since you are new here."

Malthus together with Lucas walked slowly down the corridor, revelling in the silence.

Just as they reached the turnoff for the lift, Malthus heard the sound of running footsteps approaching. A girl's voice carried down the corridor, growing louder.

"I'm late, I'm late, I'M LATE!"

A short, brown-haired girl appeared from around the corner, head down and arms swinging as she charged forward. She was moving so fast that she did not see Malthus until the last moment, but it was too late for her to stop. She slammed into him.

"Waaah!" she cried. Thrown off-balance, she fell back onto the floor.

Malthus, meanwhile, staggered back. He recovered quickly, maintaining his balance. He looked down at the girl, kneeling on the floor.

"Are you okay?" he asked her.

The girl looked to be about his age, about Twenty or so, but had the appearance and demeanour of someone much younger. She had shoulder-length brown hair that was turned out at the ends and large, playful blue eyes. Those large eyes looked up at Malthus and the girl grinned sheepishly, blushing in embarrassment. Daintily she rose to her feet.

"There," she said, as she brushed herself off. He laughed. "I'm fine. Sorry, I was kinda in a hurry." She laughed again. Her laugh was so dainty and childlike that Malthus raised an eyebrow. The girl's eyes then widened as she suddenly remembered something. "Oh yeah! Hey, did you just come from that class?" she asked, stretching up to see over Malthus shoulder. "Is… Registration over?"

Lucas nodded.

The girl's face fell. "Woo… oh, nooo…" she cried in dismay. "This place is soooo much bigger than my last Garden!"

Malthus raised his eyebrow again. 'Last Garden'? Did that mean that this girl had come from another Garden? Now that he thought about it, her accent was different, and Lucas did not recall seeing her before. Not that he remembered many faces. There were so many students here at Garden, and Lucas was not one to make a point of remembering every face he saw. He wondered which of the Gardens the girl had come from.

The girl looked around helplessly, trying to figure out what she should do. Then her eyes brightened and she turned to Lucas. "Oh, hey, hey. I just transferred here. Do you think you could give me a quick tour of this Garden?" She looked up at him pleadingly.

Lucas sighed and put his hand on his waist. Was this girl for real? She had a childish charm about her, and an air of innocence that seemed too out of place for a military academy. He wondered why she was part of a military academy in the first place. She likely felt that it was some kind of game, playing soldier. Still, she was here, and there was no reason why he couldn't show her around.

"Sure," he said, turning back to her.

The girl jumped up and clapped her hands together. "Whoo-hoo!" she cheered. "Alright, let's go!"

Malthus ignored her cheers. "We'll take the lift to the 1F lobby and I'll show you the directory."

With that Malthus and Lucas walked past her and headed down the corridor towards the lift. He did not look back to see if she was following them. They could hear her though; her footsteps echoed lightly down the corridor.

The interior of Garden was built in a large circle, with a single lift in the central pillar that connected all of the floors. Malthus punched the button to call the lift up to the 2F. As he waited for the lift to come up, he glanced over his shoulder at the girl. She stood patiently behind him, her hands clasped behind her back, rocking gently on her heels. Malthus wondered how a girl like her had ever come to be in Garden, or why she transferred here from her previous one. Still, it was none of his business.

The lift beeped as it arrived, and the doors slid open. Malthus and Lucas entered the lift and the girl came in close behind them. They went down to the 1F and stepped out into the lobby. Lucas pointed down the steps to a large computer console situated in the middle of the lobby.

"That's the directory."

They walked down to the directory. Lucas pressed a button and called up a basic layout of the 1F of Nexus Garden. The girl's eyes widened as she stared down at it.

"Well, this is it," said Lucas. "Nexus Garden is pretty big, so it's a good idea to check where you want to go."

"I have a question!" the girl piped up suddenly, raising her hand as though she was in class. "How do you use this?"

Lucas gave her and Malthus a brief explanation on how the console worked. Touching the console would call up a map of the Garden, and then touching each location would give her a brief description of each one, as well as a list of Garden staff who worked there. Most new students were required to familiarise themselves with the Garden directory.

"Next, I'll give a quick explanation of the various facilities."

"Yes, sir!" The girl saluted.

Malthus sighed inwardly. Was this girl always this perky? "You'll find the dormitory to the north," Lucas said. "The majority of the students live in the dorms. There aren't too many students who commute."

"Yeah, I'm in the dorms, too!"

"You can rest and change in there," Lucas continued, ignoring her. "West of the North Block is the cafeteria. There's always a big rush for the hot dogs. You better get used to waiting in line."

"Got it!"

"East of the North Block is the Car Park. We usually take the Garden care when a mission comes up. The front gate is located to the south…"

He frowned, his finger hovering over the console.

"Next we have the quad, located in the West Block. There's an event being planned there…"

"I know! I know!" the girl interrupted. She clapped her hands, her puzzlement gone. "It's the Garden Festival! It's going to be great! I'm planning to be on the committee. Malthus you wanna help out, too!"

Malthus rolled his eyes. Somehow, the image of her working on something like the Garden Festival suited her more than on a battlefield. "Let's just continue," Lucas said. "South of the West Block is the infirmary. This is where you get treated for your injuries, but a lot of students just come here for advice."

"What's the doctor's name?"

"Dr. Dillamond. Now for the East Block." He pointed to the other side of the Garden map, indicating the East Block. "This is the training centre. It's the only facility open at night. It's used for training, and they have real monsters running loose here." He turned to the girl and looked at her sternly. "If you don't take it seriously you may end up dead. Just be careful."

His gaze grew sterner. The girl's cheerful smile faded, and she paled a little. "…Okay," she replied. She gulped.

Satisfied that his warning had gotten through to her, Lucas carried on. "South of the East Block is the library. There's a lot of material you can look up here, but the terminals in the classroom are a lot more efficient." With everything covered, he closed down the directory. "And you already know about the classroom on the 2F, right?" he asked her.

She nodded. "Yep. I remember that one."

"By the way," Lucas added. He turned to her. "The headmaster's office is located on the 3F. You need permission to get in."

"Another question. What's the headmaster's name?"

"Headmaster Ervin," Lucas answered. He folded his arms, thinking, trying to if there was anything else that the girl ought to know. Deciding that there wasn't, he relaxed. "That's about it," he said. "Anything else?"

The girl shook her head. "Got it!" she said.

Thanks a lot!" She smiled at him, gave him a wave, and then headed off into the Garden.

Lucas turned to Malthus and looked at him with a little smile.

"Do you understand everything I just explained?"

"everything is loud and clear for me sir. He said with a straight face. I will try to remember it all."

"Now come with me, I have arranged that were going to a fire cavern so that you can take the exam to become a full fledged student here."

Malthus looked at him with a shocked face and with a little disbelieve.

"Really?"

"Yes, and we need to be there in 30 minutes."

"I have a few things to explain before we head off," he began

"FS give us strength. The stronger the FS, the stronger we become… Respect them and they will be your strength in battle."

He was referring to Familiar Spirits, or FS, for short. Familiar Spirits were magical beings that fought alongside humans in battle. Although their presence was discovered years ago, it was only discovered eighteen years ago that their powers could be harnessed to human minds. This harnessing allowed the FS to be called forth from its normal plane of existence and fight alongside a summoner in battle. Once harnessed to a FS, the summoner was able to use para-magic.

There were uncountable types of Familiar Spirits in the world. Many gave their powers willingly to humans, eager to join forces. Others were more resistant and had to be defeated in battle before lending a summoner their powers. Some FS resided in the souls of enemies or even other humans, waiting for their powers to be awakened. These FS could be harnessed by the summoner they resided in or drawn to another person entirely, transferring their powers to another. Quite often these summoners did not even know they had a FS sleeping inside them. There were all of these FS and more—the list was endless.

The test of today is to obtain the power of a very specific FS known as Ifrit. Ifrit was a fire-elemental FS who resided deep in the Fire Cavern to the east of Nexus Garden. Any student who hoped to take the exam had to enter the Fire Cavern and engage Ifrit in battle. Once defeated Ifrit would harness his mind to that of the summoner, and would loyally answer the summoner's calls anytime he or he needed him. The summoning of FS was a trademark of White Wing, which was why the test was so important.

"Everything okay up till now?" Lucas asked as he finished his explanation on how to call a FS. "You can always ask me about this."

Malthus remained silent. He did not need to ask. Knowing this, Lucas nodded his head. Lucas nodded silently back. Lucas nodded once more. They were ready to leave.

"Once we get to the Fire Cavern," he said, "I'll explain how to use magic.

"Can I use magic?"

"I know you can Malthus, I can feel it inside of you and you will use it when the time is right."

Ready to go? The Fire Cavern used for the test is located east of here."

Chapter two: The two elemental rivals:

it was gone midday by the time Malthus and Lucas arrived at the Fire Cavern. They were forced to take the long way around, as a warning had been issued saying that Behemoths were currently roaming the borders of Nexus Forest. Not wanting to get into unnecessary trouble, they took the road instead, following until they reached the turnoff to the port town of Nexus. Then they left the road and headed east, keeping themselves a safe distance from the forest.

Monsters were abundant in the Plains around Nexus Garden, one of the reasons why it was a perfect training area for White Wing candidates. The majority of weaker monsters, like Gutlingsand Bug Bites, tended to stay away from towns. These provided excellent battle experience for students not too confident in their abilities. Others, such as the vicious Behemoth, were more aggressive, and sometimes strayed a little too near for comfort.

Luckily for Malthus and Lucas there were few monsters out that morning, so they were able to reach the Fire Cavern without interruption. They stopped on the path leading up to the cavern's entrance. Guarding the entrance were two members of the Garden staff, preventing any unauthorised entry. The Fire Cavern was under Nexus Garden's jurisdiction, and no one outside of Garden was allowed to enter.

"Okay…" said Lucas, slipping into instructor-mode again. "Using magic. Now pay attention. I'll be explaining how to utilise the magic you have stocked."

Malthus listened as he explained the basics of storing magic and using it in battle.

Like physical effort, Lucas explained, magic was not an endless source of power. It could be built up, used, and depleted. Magical energy could be drawn from enemies, draining their own energy, and storing that energy in the wielder's body. Sometimes a wielder could discover a new magic whilst drawing energy from an enemy.

Once used up, the wielder had to either draw more energy, or rest to recover. This para-magic, as it was known, was different to the advanced magicks used by the sorceresses, who could draw seemingly endless power from an unknown, higher source. Harnessing a Familiar Spirit gave the normal people of the world the ability to use magic. It was this knowledge and use of Familiar spirits and para-magic that made The white wings such a valuable and formidable asset in battle. Their skill was equal to any military force, but unlike the military, they could be hired for any use.

"When you draw a new magic," Lucas concluded, "try experimenting with it when you junction. This is how you become stronger. Okay, ready to go? Oh!" He looked at Malthus. "You know how to use your gunblade?"

Malthus knew he was only asking out of propriety, but he sighed all the same. "…I already know," he replied.

The only thing he can remember of everything is how to fight. He never lost his fighting spirit.

"Oh, okay, the nurse also gave you two low-level FS to use for this mission" said Lucas. " He paused a moment, thinking, and then nodded his head. "Alright, let's go!"

They walked purposefully down the path. When they neared the entrance the two faculty members, dressed in white shirts, red dungarees and large, domed yellow hats that shielded their faces, drew together and blocked the entrance. One of them stepped forward and turned to Malthus.

"Objective: to obtain a low-level FS. A White wing member must support. Are you ready?"

"Yes," replied Malthus. He stood at attention. "I'm ready."

"I'm his support," Lucas said. He saluted. "Instructor No. 14, Lucas Krimlan."

The Garden Faculty slowly nodded his head, acknowledging that the required conditions had been met. The members of the Garden Faculty were well known within Garden for being sticklers with the rules, and were never lenient.

"Select a time limit. Choose one suited to your abilities. Challenging yet reasonable."

Malthus paused to think. He did not want to risk failing and being unable to take the exam. Mistakes could occur at any time. So, just to be safe, he selected a time limit of thirty minutes. Behind him Lucas nodded, approving his choice.

"Very well." The Faculty nodded. "Good luck."

The two faculty members then parted, unblocking the entrance. The one who had spoken took down a stopwatch hanging from a hook embedded in the cliff wall and set it to thirty minutes. He handed it to Lucas. The instructor set it going and attached it to his belt. Then he and Malthus hurried into the Fire Cavern.

The first thing Malthus noticed about the Fire Cavern was the heat. It was intensely hot, almost suffocating, and the air carried the faint scent of sulphur. The heat rose from the numerous pools and rivers of molten lava that moved sluggishly throughout the cavern. Every so often the lava would bubble and burst, sending a fresh wave of toxic gas into the air.

About eighty years previous, a powerful earthquake shook the land and caused the caverns inside the mountain to collapse. As the caverns fell, magma surged up from beneath the planet's surface. It was said that it was this earthquake that had awoken the FS Ifrit from his long slumber at the heart of the planet. It was also said that it was Ifrit's continuing presence that caused the lava to keep flowing, never cooling.

Since the earthquake, new tunnels had been made inside the Fire Caverns, formed by the liquid rock that continued to flow even now throughout the mountains. These tunnels wound their way all through the cavern to Ifrit's Lair, which was close to the cavern entrance. It was through these tunnels that Malthus and Lucas now travelled, hurrying towards Ifrit's Lair.

"My job is to support you in battle," Lucas told Malthus as they ran. "Everything else is up to you."

Malthus did not look back. "Fine."

They hurried on. Overhead, a large red bat dropped down from the ceiling and swooped across the cavern. It screeched; a terrifying, ear-piercing sound. Malthus put his hand on the hilt of his gunblade, his eyes following the bat. These monsters were vicious and had a nasty bite. However, the bat did not come any closer and headed off into the shadows above. Malthus relaxed his hand and carried on running.

"You know," said Lucas casually after a minute or so, as they turned around a bend, "the students often choke on this test when I come with them." He grinned. "I guess my face makes them nervous."

Malthus stopped. He turned and looked at Lucas, standing behind him. …Whatever, he thought.

Seeing his serious face, Lucas laughed. "I'm just kidding!" he said. "Trying to keep you relaxed, that's all."

Malthus's serious face did not change. Lucas laughed again. Something then caught his eye and he looked over Malthus's shoulder. His smile vanished in an instant and his hand rushed to his whip. Seeing him move, Malthus turned around.

Coming up rapidly behind him was a Buel, a monster native to the Fire Cavern. It was bat-like in appearance, with a flat, pudgy face and several tiny, pointed teeth. It had three large, leathery wings that framed its body. These wings beat slightly out of unison, making its movements somewhat jerky. Its small red eyes fixed on Malthus. It screeched hungrily and surged forward.

Malthus drew his gunblade, unhooking the hilt from one of the clasps on his twin belts. He charged at the monster. Lucas released his whip and watched in admiration as Malthus met the monster head-on. Without breaking pace, Malthus swung his sword and struck the beast. The blade cut through the monster's right wings, severing one and almost cutting right through the other. The severed wing dropped to the floor, its clawed tips twitching.

The monster recoiled, screeching in pain, startled at this sudden attack. It remained hovering even with the loss of its wing, though its movements were more erratic than before. Instead of learning its lesson and backing off, it bared its fangs and lunged again.

Malthus thrust out his sword. The blade plunged deep into the monster's face, which made up the majority of its body—apart from its wings. The monster died instantly and dropped to the ground, its wings folding around it. Malthus placed his boot on the monster and wrenched his sword free. He sheathed it and looked over at Lucas.

The instructor nodded, satisfied with the efficiency and skill in which Malthus had despatched the unpredicted threat.

Leaving the corpse of the Buel behind, they hurried on towards Ifrit's Lair. The lair was located not far from the cavern's entrance, and was surrounded by tall, pointed pillars of rock that rose around it like a protective cocoon. Malthus and Lucas came to a stop in front of it and gazed at it. Clouds of hot steam swirled around the lair, partially hiding the inside from view. Lucas turned his eyes on Malthus, looking at him appraisingly.

"I guess I was right," he said, mostly to himself. "You are in a class of your own. You have amazing strength and potential."

Malthus inclined his head, indicating that he had heard him, but not really caring about what he said. He preferred not to judge things based on strength or potential. All that mattered was getting the job done. Everything else was insignificant.

They headed into Ifrit's Lair, passing through the barrier of steam. The air smelled of sulphur—already Malthus could feel its effects on his body. Behind him, Lucas coughed. This was the second reason a time limit was imposed on the test: to complete the test before the sulphuric atmosphere caused harm to the body.

When they passed through the steam the air became clear and easier to breathe. Malthus stopped and looked around. The lair was wide, circular, with the rising pillars forming a rocky prison over him. At the centre of the lair was a large pit delving deep into the earth. At the bottom of that pit was where Ifrit resided, sleeping beneath a pool of hot, bubbling lava.

Lucas walked to one of the pillars. He removed the stopwatch and hung it on a peg that had been hammered in. He then picked up a baton and struck a large bronze gong hanging on the same pillar. The dull chime echoed loudly throughout the lair; Malthus could feel its vibrations through the ground. Lucas then returned the baton to its peg and came to stand beside Malthus.

"Okay, this is it," he said. "Are you ready?" Malthus waved a hand, and Lucas smiled. "You seem confident enough."

Steam began to rise from the pit, as the lava below bubbled violently. The smell of sulphur returned, along with another scent: dark and fiery. The lava flow swelled and then surged upwards as a large beast burst out of the pit and landed on the ground in front of Malthus and Lucas.

The beast was tall and muscular, with a broad, dark body. His chest was wide and his arms powerful. Two large, jagged horns rose from his head. His head was that of a beast, with narrow, intelligent eyes and a mane of wild, fiery red hair that rippled as he moved, as though it was on fire. Lava dripped like water off his muscles as he stretched up tall, towering over the humans standing before him.

"Another human come to challenge me?" he growled. His voice was deep and rumbled as he spoke. His breath carried the faint scent of sulphur. He looked down at Malthus. "Be warned, human, I will not submit easily. If you desire my power, then you will have to prove your worth to me."

Malthus responded by drawing his sword. He held the gun shaped hilt in both hands, standing ready for battle. Ifrit then turned his eyes to Lucas. The instructor unhooked his whip and flicked his wrist, cracking the whip against the rock. They were ready. Ifrit looked them both over, and he grinned. He flexed his large muscles, drew himself back, and then charged at Malthus.

Malthus braced himself for the first blow. He raised his gunblade and guarded his chest as Ifrit struck out with one of his large hands. His fist smashed into the side of Malthus's sword. The impact was stronger than Malthus expected and he staggered backward, his boots skidding on the rock.

When Malthus regained his balance, Ifrit was almost right upon him. The FS had his other fist raised, preparing for a second strike to pummel Malthus into the ground. The swordsman hurriedly dived to the left and rolled aside, just as Ifrit's hand hit the ground. The rocky ground cracked from the force of the blow, and tendrils of steam rose up out of the cracks.

Gripping his sword, Malthus pushed himself to his feet and charged towards Ifrit. He swung his sword and caught the FS on the back of his shoulder. The blade cut a deep but superficial gash across the flesh, leaving a bloody red line. Ifrit roared, more in irritation than in pain. The FS spun around, his fist raised.

There was a loud CRACK and Ifrit's arm suddenly halted just inches from Malthus's face. Ifrit glanced at his arm. It was wrapped in a long, slender whip that was covered in chain links. The FS peered over his shoulder.

Lucas pulled his whip tight, his lips pressed together as he fought against Ifrit's superior strength. Ifrit's yanked his arm forward. The sudden movement caught Lucas off guard and he tumbled forward. Maintaining his grip on his weapon, he gave it a tug. The whip unchained itself from Ifrit's arm, returning to his side. He gave the whip another crack, striking the ground near Ifrit's feet and forcing the FS to jump back. As soon as he landed Ifrit was forced to jump again as Malthus darted in front of him, swinging his sword.

"Impudent humans!" Ifrit roared, outraged.

He leaped up into the air. He rose up and up until he reached the top of his lair, where the rising pillars converged. Twisting his body in the air, Ifrit faced the humans standing below him. He drew back his fist, and flames began to flow over it, wreathing it in fire. With a roar the FS descended, heading towards Lucas.

Lucas leaped back barely in time, as Ifrit's fist crashed into the floor. The force of Ifrit's strike caused the rock to shatter, and flames swept over the ground. Both Lucas and Malthus retreated to the far edges of the lair as these flames moved rapidly, covering the lair in a layer of red fire. After a few moments the flames dissipated, though the air remained hot.

Moving quickly, before Ifrit could recover, Malthus hurried forward. However Ifrit saw him coming and spun to face him, raising another fiery fist. Malthus ducked beneath the blow and pushed forward. He swung his sword, and the blade sliced cleanly across Ifrit's bare chest. As the blade moved across the flesh, Malthus squeezed the trigger on the gunblade's hilt. There was a flash as a blank round was discharged from the chamber. The empty shot caused the blade to recoil, but the resulting force it gave pushed the blade deeper into Ifrit's chest.

Ifrit roared in pain and clutched at his chest. There were two slashes across his torso: one from the initial strike and the second from the recoil. Ifrit ran a claw over the wound, letting his blood spill across his fingers.

"Hm! Not bad for a human," he said gruffly, somewhat impressed. Very few students had been able to get close enough to land such a blow.

Lucas, who had been walking slowly around the perimeter of the FS's lair, stopped and turned to him. "Does that mean you acquiesce?" he asked him.

Ifrit snorted. He lowered his hand. A few drops of blood fell from his fingernails and onto the hot ground. The blood simmered and burned black. "That, I did not say," the FS retorted. "It will take much more than a few lucky shots to prove your worth!"

To prove his point, Ifrit leaped up into the air again. The FS crossed his arms over his chest, and flames emerged in the air around him. They spread quickly, covering the roof of his lair, creating a barrier of smothering flame. Malthus and Lucas could feel the intense heat radiating from above, threatening to burn up all the air in the lair. Malthus felt the air start to grow thinner, and he began to pant.

Ifrit then thrust out his arms, and the flames descended in a series of large fireballs towards the humans below.

Malthus dodged the first few fireballs as they came sailing past. They struck the ground, causing it to glow with the heat. One fireball came down too close for him to dodge, and so Malthus raised his sword and used it to cut right through the flames. The blade glowed as it sliced through, cutting the fireball in two. The flames separated and then flickered out, destroyed.

The swordsman cut through about four of these fireballs when he heard a loud crack behind him. Malthus glanced quickly over his shoulder and saw Lucas cracking his whip. The whip's tip flashed brightly as it touched one of the falling fireballs. The fireball shimmered as a casing of ice began to form over it, imprisoning the flames. The flames flickered and then died out. The ice then shattered, falling to the ground in a shower of ice crystals.

A loud roar sounded from above, and Ifrit burst through the flames. He descended on Lucas, whose back was turned, his fists burning as he prepared to strike him down. Malthus hurriedly cut through one of the last few fireballs and then darted across the battlefield. He ran between Lucas and Ifrit and raised his gunblade. Ifrit's fist slammed hard into the blade, almost wrenching Malthus's arms out of their sockets. Malthus grit his teeth but held firm, keeping Ifrit at bay.

Realising that he had once again been blocked, Ifrit jumped back. Clenching one fist, he slammed it angrily into the ground. Then he stepped back, his body bent over, his hands open and claws outstretched, waiting for them to attack.

There was a reason why he waited. Despite his fiery nature, Ifrit was not a wild, untamed beast. Like many other FS, humans intrigued him. He was drawn to those of great strength. When Nexus Garden was founded, the headmaster had entered his lair and sought him out. He had presented the FS a deal: that Ifrit should lend White wing his powers, and in exchange White wing would aid in protecting his lair from invaders and plunderers. Ifrit's only condition to the bargain was that he be allowed to engage potential White wing in battle, to test their strength and see if they were truly worthy of using his powers. That was how the prerequisite test was born, and how it had been for thirteen years.

Right now Ifrit looked at Malthus. The teenager was standing in front of Lucas with his sword raised, his face determined. Ifrit noted with interest the scar that ran along Malthus's face. Here was a soul that was unafraid. The human faced him without any fear or hesitation, and did not flinch from Ifrit's attacks but embraced them, fighting back with all his strength. Ifrit grinned, pleased. He had not seen many students with this level of potential. To a warrior like this, Ifrit would be glad to lend his powers. Of course, he still had to prove himself.

Malthus felt Ifrit's gaze upon him, and met the beast's gaze without faltering. The air around him was beginning to cool, and he could breathe a little easier. Behind him, Lucas watched him closely.

"The clock is still ticking," he warned. He gestured to the stopwatch hanging on the pillar. "You don't have time to dawdle. You need to end this and end it fast. Think about your opponent, and what he is. What do you have within you that will subdue him? If you need a hint," he added with a smile, "his temper could certainly do with some cooling off."

Malthus did not respond to his joke. He already knew the answer to defeating Ifrit. He had been reluctant to call upon the FS already harnessed to his mind, wanting to rely on his own strength to beat Ifrit. But with the stopwatch still ticking, he had no alternative but to summon her.

Not willing to wait any longer, Ifrit charged. Malthus and Lucas parted, diving out of the way as the beast came lumbering past them. The ground trembled with each step he took, causing the two to almost lose their balance. Ifrit stopped and turned, beginning to run after Malthus. He chased the young man around his lair, drawing closer with each great step.

Malthus darted past Lucas, who cracked his whip. The end latched around Ifrit's wrist, but with a single tug Ifrit pulled the instructor off his feet. While he was down Ifrit leaped over him and continued charging after Malthus.

The FS jumped at Malthus's back. The swordsman dropped down to the ground and Ifrit sailed overhead. He landed heavily, claws scraping over the rock. When Malthus looked up Ifrit was right in front of him. The FS slowly stretched to his full height, towering over Malthus. He stood so close that Malthus could feel the heat radiating from his body. Flames licked inside the FS's mouth. Ifrit stood over him, waiting.

Malthus rose to his feet. He stood unwavering before Ifrit. The stopwatch continued to tick the time away. There was only five minutes left.

Malthus lowered his sword. He closed his eyes and let out a slow breath to calm his mind. He called out with his thoughts, reaching out to the Familiar Spirit whose power lay sleeping inside of him, waiting to be awakened. When he felt her presence within him he held out his hand, bidding her to surface.

The air around him grew chill. It went from chill to bitterly cold, a harsh change from the stifling heat. His breath came out in small clouds of white and dispersed into the air, forming into tiny ice crystals. These crystals swirled down and touched the ground in front of Malthus. They expanded, stretching out over the ground. Malthus opened his eyes and jumped back out of the way, just as a large pillar of ice burst up out of the ground.

Encased in the pillar was a woman, barely visible through the layers of ice that shrouded her body. Her arms were crossed over her chest, eyes closed as though in sleep. Recognising her, Ifrit's eyes opened wide and he stepped back in alarm.

"They have Shiva!" he roared.

Upon hearing her name, Shiva's eyes snapped open. She inhaled, and when she breathed out again the ice shattered, releasing her. Her long blonde hair with its icy strands shimmered as it spilled over her bare shoulders and chest. Her body was bare, her modesty hidden only through thin blue layers of ice that rose up in swirling patterns over her legs, waist and torso. Her skin was cold blue and freezing to the touch; it would burn the hands of any who tried to lay hands on her. Her eyes, pale blue, settled on Ifrit.

Ifrit roared and leaped back to the other side of the lava pit, separating himself from Shiva. The FS spread his arms and called up a wall of fire from the pit, which rose up and surrounded him like a shield. Malthus and Lucas, who had been rushing in from the sides, hurriedly stopped and stepped back away from the flames.

The sight of the fire, however, did not daunt Shiva. She let out a shivering, icy breath. When she stepped forward, the ice that covered the ground crunched beneath her boot.

Shiva raised her arms, lifting them high over her head. A ball of cold, glowing light formed in her palms, growing brighter as she lifted her palm up. The icy FS leaned her body far back. Her eyes fluttered closed. Suddenly she flung her body forward and thrust her arms out in front of her, and the ball in her palms exploded into a fearsome shower of ice.

The ice shards went hurtling through the air. They struck the ground at the foot of the flame barrier protecting Ifrit. The ice cut right through the flames, parting them like a curtain. Jagged pillars of ice began to rise up out of the ground, replacing the flames and trapping Ifrit in a cold prison.

A final ice pillar shot up out of the ground, moving over Ifrit and encasing him within its dark layers. It stayed there for a few moments before the ice cracked and broke apart, releasing Ifrit. There were burn marks on the FS's dark flesh, one or two oozing blood. The intense heat of the FS's body was gone, cooled by the ice. Ifrit sagged heavily, his strength sapped away.

The heat of the lair finally began to seep through the ice, and the remaining pillars melted. Ifrit gazed at Shiva through his bedraggled mane, made wet by the melting ice. He growled and then dropped his head.

"Ugh," Ifrit groaned. "I underestimated Shiva." The FS took another deep, laboured breath. He turned to Malthus, standing nearby with his sword still raised, in case the FS tried to attack again. "Very well," he said, "I will join you."

With Ifrit defeated, Shiva gave a bow and dispersed into a cloud of ice, returning to the plane on which she lived. The ice crystals that remained in her wake evaporated into the air.

Malthus sheathed his sword and walked forward to stand in front of Ifrit. He looked the FS in the eyes. He showed no fear. Once again, Ifrit found himself impressed by this young human. It was humans like this one that drew Ifrit to the upper worlds. There was much to learn from them, and much strength to gain.

Malthus closed his eyes. Ifrit spread his arms wide. Flames surged up from the cracks in the ground and swirled around the two. The FS then closed his own eyes as the pact was formed between them—a pact formed not of blood but of the very soul. Ifrit's mind became harnessed to Malthus's. Malthus could feel the FS's presence in his mind.

Use my power wisely, the FS said in his mind.

The flames disappeared. The pact was complete. Ifrit severed their connection, jumped back and plunged into the lava pit, sinking beneath its ever-shifting surface. Malthus opened his eyes and breathed deeply; his blood felt hot.

Lucas walked over to the lair's entrance and unhooked the stopwatch. He checked the time remaining and noted it down in a notebook he carried in his pocket. Malthus watched him as he rang the gong again, signalling the end of the test. The instructor then walked over to Malthus.

"There isn't much time," he said, "but let me go over this real quick. Good, you got yourself a FS. If you junction that FS, you'll be able to use an elemental ability. Here's an explanation on elements."

Malthus listened as she explained how many FSs natures had natural elements, like fire and ice, thunder and water, etc. A FS's elemental nature could be harnessed to weapons, giving the wielder the same elemental ability. This technique of using a FS's elemental nature gave White wing a distinct advantage in battle.

"There're a lot of Fire elemental monsters here," Lucas finished, "so junction Blizzard. You'll have an easier time with Fire elemental enemies."

Malthus nodded, understanding. With Ifrit and Shiva, and the other FS in his possession, Zinogre, he could make use of fire, ice and thunder-based abilities.

With the test completed, Malthus and Lucas hurried out of the Fire Cavern. Time was running out. They headed back to Nexus Garden, where the White wing exam would soon begin.

Chapter Three: Departure

The clock had just struck half past three when Malthus and Lucas arrived back at Nexus Garden. The outside Gardens were quiet, with most of the students still in class. The two stopped by the front gate. Lucas stood in front of Malthus, his arms folded over his chest.

"Well done," he said. He took out his notebook from his pocket, noting down the successful completion of the test. "Let's see…" he added thoughtfully. "I thought there was something else I needed to go over with you before you take the exam…" He closed his eyes, and then snapped his fingers. "Oh yes! Taking care of your FS. This is something you have to watch out for."

Despite their magical nature, Guardian Forces were not invincible. They were living creatures, same as humans, and as the test had just proven, they could be defeated or even killed. Realising this, the scientist who discovered FS also developed special items that could be used to heal them. All of this was the job of the summoner.

"Now," said Lucas, once he was done explaining, "change into your uniform and assemble at the 1F lobby."

Without a word, Malthus turned and hurried from the front gate to the dormitories at the other end of the Garden. The exam was due to start in less than half an hour, so he had to move quickly.

His uniform was laid out neatly on his bed, ready to wear. It was a much simpler design than the White wing uniforms, consisting of a navy blue tunic with patterned stitching across the shoulders, and navy blue trousers. The symbol of Nexus Garden, coloured blue, was stitched onto the right sleeve of the uniform. This symbol identified the wearer as a student of Nexus Garden.

Malthus changed quickly, leaving his leather jacket, trousers and belts lying on the bed. The last thing he removed was his gloves, placing them on the bedside table.

He looked down at his right hand. There was a ring on his index finger. It was made of plain silver, and had the image of a demon carved onto it. It was his favourite ring, although he could not remember how long he had owned it. It had been his for as long as he could remember, and he kept it with him always. He had a necklace made to match, also made of silver, bearing the same image of the demon.

The last thing Malthus picked up before he left the dormitory was his sword. Hanging it at his side, he made his way back to the lobby.

Most of the students were already waiting in the lobby when he arrived. There were not many taking the White wing exam—the written and prerequisite tests had purged the numbers quite a bit. Many of the students taking the exam were grouped together in their newly formed squads, chatting amongst themselves. Some students looked excited, others were a bit more nervous. Malthus did not pay attention to any of them and walked into the lobby, looking for Lucas.

"Malthus! Over here!"

Malthus stopped and looked behind him. Lucas was standing in front of the directory, waving to him. He had changed back into his White wing uniform and had a clipboard in his hand, containing the details of all the squads for the exam. In all honesty, he hadn't noticed Lucas when he arrived. He turned and headed over to him.

"I'll be announcing the squad assignments for the exam now," he said. He looked down at his clipboard. "Let's see… You'll be with… Wulffast Brandt. Quite a lively fellow."

He looked down the lobby, until he spotted the person he was looking for. "Over here, Wulffast!"

He was calling out to a young man standing in the middle of the lobby, practicing his martial arts. Wulffast Brandt was, as Lucas had described, a lively fellow, but with a tendency to act on impulse rather than reasoning. His eyes were blue and bright, and he had short blond hair that had been gelled up in spikes on the front of his head. His body was toned and muscled from years of training. Though his martial arts skills were unrivalled, his ability to control his emotions left much to be desired.

When he heard his name, Wulffast stopped practicing and looked up. He made his way over to them, performing a series of cartwheels and backflips. When he reached them he stopped and stood up. He grinned widely, and then looked at Malthus.

"Whoa!" he said loudly, making Malthus wince. "I'm with you!"

He wiped his hand vigorously on his trousers, looked at it, and then held it out. Malthus looked at it and then turned his head away, refusing to shake it.

Unperturbed, Wulffast lowered his hand.

"Look, I guess you heard of Zikael? Zikael's just being a pain in the ass. All you have to do is ignore him."

"That's none of your business."

"None of your business," said Lucas, at the same moment. He coughed to draw their attention. "Ahem… Excuse me, but… That Zikael you're talking about… He's your squad leader."

There was a moment's silence. Wulffast jumped and stamped his foot. "SAY WHAT!"

Lucas spread his hands and shrugged helplessly. "It can't be changed," he said. He looked through the crowd of students. "Zikael! Are you here?"

It must just have been Malthus's imagination, but the crowd became somewhat quieter when Zikael walked up. Zikael had a dark scowl on his face; obviously he was as displeased with the squad line-up as Wulffast and Malthus were.

Walking behind Zikael were Keegan and Gisela, his only and closest friends. Keegan was large and muscular, with dark skin and stubble on his chin. He was always more brains than brawn, in Wulffast's opinion. Gisela was female and by far the smarter of the two. She was slender but strong, with sleek silver hair and an eye-patch over one eye. She very rarely spoke, saying no more than a few words at a time, and so it was always hard to tell what she was thinking. One thing was clear, however: she was fiercely loyal to Zikael, as was Keegan. Both would follow Zikael anywhere.

Malthus watched as the two stopped behind Zikael. Keegan placed his hands on his hips and looked around the lobby, chuckling to himself. Gisela folded her arms over her chest, watching everything silently. Gisela and Keegan tagging along as usual… Wulffast's thought to himself. Guess that makes up the whole disciplinary committee.

Malthus looked at Zikael. He looked very familiar to him, but from where?

Lucas glanced at Keegan and Gisela, shook his head a little, and then looked at Zikael. "You're the squad leader," he told him. "Good luck to you."

"…Instructor," said Zikael with a sigh. "I hate it when people wish me luck. Save those words for a bad student that needs them, eh?"

"Okay then." Lucas gave him a very level, serious stare. "Good luck, Zikael."

Zikael's eyes narrowed. For a moment, Malthus wondered if he might retaliate. Then Zikael relaxed and shrugged. He signalled to his two friends. "Add Instructor Krimlan to the list!" he ordered sharply.

Dutifully Gisela reached into a pocket and pulled out a small, notebook. With practiced efficiency, she scribbled down Lucas's name. Malthus watched her curiously.

The list…? What is it?

When Gisela finished writing, she placed the notebook and pen back in her pocket. She raised her head and caught Malthus looking at her. She did not acknowledge his gaze. Her face remained completely impassive, unconcerned by what he might think.

"Well then." Lucas's voice broke the silence that had fallen between them. "You're all assigned to Squad B. I'll be the instructor in charge." Lucas paused and looked around at the trio, giving them all a stern look. "Teamwork is of the utmost importance," he stressed. "Let's get through this exam, everyone!"

"Listen up!" Zikael cut in. "Teamwork means staying out of my way. It's a Squad B rule. Don't you forget it!"

Wulffast glared at him. He clenched his fists, and his body trembled with anger. Malthus sighed inwardly. So much for Wulffast's own advice. Sensing a headache coming on, Lucas rubbed at his temple. The exam had not even started, and already it looked like dissension would rip the squad apart.

"Everyone here?"

Everybody turned as Ervin Kramer, Headmaster of Nexus Garden, walked down from the lift to the directory. The headmaster was a middle-aged man in his forties. He had brown hair and a kind, gentle face. His eyes were also kind, though they seemed somewhat tired of late.

Lucas flashed the squad a stern glance before coming to attention. Ervin came to stand beside him. The other squads in the lobby came over and gathered behind them to hear the headmaster's address. Ervin peered at them all through his round spectacles. Seeing the students all gathered before him, he smiled.

"It's been a while, everyone," he said. "How's everyone doing?"

He looked around. The students appeared nervous and quiet. Wulffast fidgeted about, shuffling from foot to foot, though he did his best to appear calm. Ervin smiled, it was no surprise they were all nervous. The White wing exam could be the making or breaking of these young students. Ervin smiled. It was time to get to business.

"This exam will involve twelve members from Squads A through D…" he began. "You will be proceeding to a real battlefield. Obviously, the battles are for real.

"Life and death, victory and defeat, honour and disgrace… Each of these go hand in hand. There's only one way or another. How 'bout it? Are you still up for it?"

He leaned over, peering close at the students once again to see their reaction. All of them remained silent, but he could see the determination in their eyes. To the side, Zikael yawned loudly, bored. Lucas flashed him a stern glance.

"You will be accompanied by nine White wing members," Headmaster Ervin continued. "Should you fail, these members shall get the job done. They always do. Well, that's one less worry on your mind. The pride of Nexus Garden! The elite mercenary force, White wing!"

The headmaster's arms were in the air now. His voice was flowing with passion as he spoke, and the fervour was visible in his tired eyes.

"Learn from them, obey their commands and accomplish the mission. Prove yourself worthy of becoming a member of White wing." The headmaster lowered his arms and folded them behind his back. "Best of luck."

Without a word, the students turned and left the lobby. As per Lucas's instructions they headed towards the car park, where the Garden cars were waiting to escort them out. Keegan and Gisela remained in the lobby, waiting for Zikael to return.

Lucas's squad was the last to leave. Wulffast could hardly contain himself as he ran over to the car. Zikael took his time, strolling leisurely. Malthus, who had become lost in thought whilst waiting for the other students to leave, had to run to catch them up.

As soon as they were all seated, the car headed off. It rolled out of the Garden's underground drive and into the afternoon sunlight, beginning its steady drive towards the port town of Nexus.

With nothing left to do but wait, the students inside the car leaned back and relaxed. Nobody spoke for a while; the only sound was the roar of the engine as it moved down the drive. Every so often the car jumped as it rolled over a bump in the road, but otherwise the journey was smooth, calm… and boring.

At least, that's what Wulffast thought. Unlike Zikael and Malthus, he found himself unable to relax. His body was tense, like a coiled spring waiting to be released. He longed to get onto the battlefield and prove himself. Waiting around like this just made him more nervous.

He looked over at Malthus, sitting silently beside him. Malthus was staring down at the floor, his arms folded over his knees. Wulffast's eyes were drawn to the gunblade at the swordsman's side. This was the first time he had ever seen a gunblade up close before. The weapon was difficult to master, and there were few who even attempted it. Wulffast preferred to use his fists for fighting, but the gunblade intrigued him.

"Yo, Malthus," he said suddenly. "Show me your gunblade, will ya?"

Malthus did not even raise his head. "…"

Wulffast tried again. "C'mon, man!"

"…"

"Just a peek!"

"…"

Wulffast sighed. "Tch, fine…" he grumbled. He folded his arms across his chest, pouting. "Yeah, yeah…" He looked over at Malthus again. "Why you bein' so selfish!" he demanded. "Scrooooge!"

Still Malthus did not respond. "…"

"Say somethin', will ya!" said Wulffast, exasperated. "W-What's on your mind?"

Malthus sighed. "…Nothing."

"…Nothing," said Lucas at the same moment, once again pre-empting Malthus's answer. Malthus looked at him. Lucas's face was innocent.

Wulffast looked at them both. Somewhere along the line, he thought he'd missed the joke, although neither Malthus nor Lucas were laughing. "…" He sighed heavily and leaned back in his chair, trying to force his body to relax.

Silence returned to the car. Wulffast, still bored, drummed his fingers lightly on the armrest. He tapped his foot on the floor. Suddenly he got up out of his seat and began to practice his martial arts, punching at the air.

This went on for a few minutes until Zikael, irritated, glared up at him. "Stop that," he said, his eyes narrowing. "It's annoying."

Wulffast did stop. Zikael looked up at him. He smirked.

"…Chicken."

Wulffast's body trembled with anger. He raised his fists. "WHAT DID YOU CALL ME!" he shouted.

Zikael started to laugh, amused by Wulffast's overreaction. Lucas rose out of his seat and put his hands on his hips.

"Knock it off!" he ordered sharply, giving them both a stern glare.

Hearing his no nonsense tone, Wulffast immediately dropped back down into his seat. He folded his arms stubbornly across his chest and refused to look at Zikael. Zikael's chuckling quietened, but he continued to smile smugly to himself. Lucas waited a moment before returning to his own seat. He sighed and shook his head. It was hard to believe that they were all about the same age. They acted like little children.

Throughout all this, Malthus had remained silent. He had been thinking about the girl in the infirmary, the brown-haired one with the green shawl and kind face. He was sure he had not met her before, and yet she had known him by name. Malthus was puzzled. How could she know his name? Had he met her somewhere before?

Malthus raised his head and looked over at Lucas. The instructor was busying himself by examining his clipboard, running through some last minute checks.

"…Instructor…"

Lucas looked up at him.

"Who was that girl in the infirmary this morning?"

Lucas blinked. "Was someone there?" he asked. "I wasn't there. Is there a problem?"

"No…" Malthus looked back down at the floor. "Not really…"

Opposite him, Zikael started to laugh. "This is great…" he said, his shoulders shaking as he chuckled. "I have Chicken-wuss and a guy who's just reached puberty in my squad…" He laughed loudly.

Malthus did not respond. Wulffast's fists shook angrily. Lucas, meanwhile, put his hand to his head. It was going to be a very long evening.

A short drive later they arrived at Nexus. Nexus was a small port town, and it was from this town that Nexus Garden had gotten its name.

Although primarily a fishing community, Nexus was also a popular tourist resort. It received many visitors from overseas each year, wanting to sample the town's legendary fish dishes. It was also the only town on the continent with a shipping dock, so any people wanting to reach Nexus Garden had to pass through Nexus first. In turn any White wing wanting to head out on missions went through Nexus docks. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement that neither side disputed.

The car headed straight for the docks. A number of White wing-standard military ships had pulled in and were waiting at the docks. Some of them were already leaving and heading westward, intothe Serene Ocean. The car carrying Squad B pulled swiftly into the car park.

Malthus and Zikael were the first to get out of the car. They stood side by side as they looked up at the White wing vessel that would carry them across the ocean. It was the first time either of them had seen White wing's marine vessels. They were an impressive sight. The front of the vessels had been designed like battering rams, capable of breaking their way through any defence.

"So that's the vessel…?" asked Malthus.

Zikael nodded. "Ain't no turning back now," he replied. Then, catching the faint note of trepidation in Malthus's voice, he turned and looked at him. "Huh? You scared too?"

Malthus did not reply but continued to stare up at the vessel.

"Hey!"

The two men turned their attention to the dock, where three members of White wing were waiting for them. One of them was running towards the gate, waving his arms.

"You guys are the last!" he shouted, sounding a little annoyed. "Hurry up and get in!" They must have arrived late.

The car door opened and Lucas climbed out. Zikael leaned in close to Malthus and said in a low whisper: "Don't disappoint me now." Malthus did not respond.

Zikael then moved away from Malthus as Lucas came up behind them, his face stern. "Come on, move it!" he snapped.

Zikael flashed Malthus a cold glance before he ran off towards the dock. Wulffast went running after him, leaving Malthus behind. Lucas started after them and then, realising that Malthus was not following them, stopped and turned back.

"Hurry, Malthus!" he called, breaking him from his thoughts, and hurried towards the dock.

Malthus pushed his thoughts aside for the moment and went after him. He could think about that strange girl later. Right now he had to focus all his attention on the exam.

He reached the vessel. Everyone was waiting for him, except for Zikael, who was already making his way inside. Wulffast waited until Malthus reached the loading platform before he too made his way into the vessel.

Lucas waited until all three students were inside. He had a brief word with his colleagues, who would be remaining behind to await their safe return. Then the instructor boarded the ship, and the main hatch slid closed.

When the checks had been completed, the engines fired up and the ship moved slowly out of the dock. Children ran out to watch and wave as the ship joined the other White wing vessels, and then headed out across the sea towards the western continent of Blackwald.

"Hi, Lucas," said Xu as she entered the cabin.

Malthus looked up as Xu closed the door behind her and stopped next to the table. Lucas rose to his feet and greeted her with a wave. Xu was a friend from his student days, although he had graduated a year earlier. Although an ordinary member of White wing, today Xu was acting as one of the examiners for the exam.

"Well, these are the members of Squad B," said Lucas, gesturing to the three students sat around the table.

Immediately, Wulffast and Malthus rose to their feet. "Nice to meet ya!" said Wulffast.

"Pleased to meet you…" said Malthus, with a slight nod of his head.

Xu looked them over. She'd received the student reports prior to the exam, so she already knew who these two young men were. Wulffast Brandt, aged seventeen, from Nexus. He was a martial artist of unsurpassed skill… but had problems containing himself. Malthus, last name is unknown, also aged seventeen, had resided in Garden since his blackout. He was a gunblade master, but had issues when it came to teamwork.

Her eyes went to the last member of the squad, currently slouching in his chair with a look of boredom on his face. Zikael Izad, aged eighteen. She wouldn't even need a report to tell her about this one. Zikael she knew very well. Xu sighed and folded her arms. "Zikael," she said. "How many times has it been now?"

Zikael gave her only the briefest of glances, and then he looked away and shrugged his shoulders. "Oh, I just love these exams…" he said, and refused to say anymore.

Xu sighed again. This was not the first time she had seen Zikael take the final White wing exam. Or the second, or even the third. In fact this was the fourth time he had taken it, and if Xu were to make a bet, this would not be the last time, either.

It wasn't that Zikael did not have the skill to pass the exam. In fact, he was probably Nexus Garden's most talented swordsman. The problem was Zikael was his complete lack of respect for authority and his inability to follow orders, along with his unprecedented talent to rile people up. From the looks of things that still had not changed, and so Xu turned away from him.

"I'll explain the current situation and the mission," she announced. She looked at Wulffast. The fighter stepped aside and allowed her to pass. Xu took her place at the head of the room. On the wall behind her was a large computer screen. She stood in front of this, holding the remote in her hands, and faced the company. "Be seated!" she ordered, and Malthus, Wulffast and Lucas obediently took their seats. Xu coughed, clearing her throat, and then began her briefing.

"Our client for the mission is the Arcton Dukedom Parliament," she said. "A request for White wing was made 18 hours ago."

She stepped aside to allow the students a full view of the display screen behind her. She pushed a button on the remote, and the screen lit up. A map of Arcton, seaside capital of the Arcton Dukedom, appeared on the screen.

The Arcton Dukedom was an independent nation on the northeast region of the Blackwald continent. Its capital was built along the shore, protected by a large mountain range. The only way to enter the city on land was through a single pass through the mountains, and so Arcton had managed to maintain a peaceful existence. That was, until now, as Xu was about to explain.

"Arcton has been under attack by the B-Army since about 72 hours ago," she told them. "Forty-nine hours into the battle, Arcton abandoned their position in the inner city. Currently, they have retreated into the nearby mountains and are reorganising their troops. That's the current status.

"Now onto the mission objective. According to our reports, the B-Army is mopping up the Arcton troops in the mountain region. We're to make a landing at Lapin Beach." She indicated the spot on the map. "We're to eliminate the remaining B-Army within the city and liberate it A.S.A.P. Afterwards, White wing members will intercept any B-Army forces trying to make their way into the city from the mountain region."

The screen went off.

Zikael leaned back further in his chair. "So, what are WE supposed to do?" he asked, placing his boots on the table.

Xu stepped back in front of the screen. "White wing candidates are to eliminate the B-Army inside the city," she answered.

"Sounds important!" said Wulffast excitedly, flexing his muscles.

"Sounds boring," Zikael corrected with a yawn. He rested his cheek in his hand and looked up at Xu. "So, what you're saying is," he said, giving her a bored look, "we do all the dirty work…"

Xu remained silent. He really had not changed at all. She glanced at Lucas, who just shook his head. "… Oh," said Xu, suddenly remembering, "it hardly needs to be said, but… The order to withdraw takes priority. Do not forget."

She looked around the room to make sure they understood. Wulffast gulped. He wondered what would happen if anyone ignored the order to withdraw. They would be left behind, most likely. The fighter glanced over at Malthus to see his reaction. Malthus's face was unreadable. Wulffast scratched his head, shuffling nervously.

Xu nodded, satisfied that they all understood. She looked at her watch. "We're almost there," she told them. "We anticipate a battle as soon as we disembark. Just be prepared. That's all. Any questions, talk to Lucas."

The briefing over, Xu walked forward. Wulffast moved out of his seat, allowing her to pass once again. The White wing left the cabin, leaving the three students and Lucas alone as they waited for the ship to arrive at Arcton.

Silence fell amongst them. Malthus folded his arms over his knees and looked down at the floor, thinking about the mission ahead. According to Xu's briefing, they were to aid in the liberation of Arcton from the invading B-Army. Their task was to eliminate the B-Army inside the city and stop further troops from entering.

The Blackwald Army, or B-Army as it was known for short, had a long history of war and invasion, beginning thousands of years ago. In that time, the whole continent had been part of the Arcton Empire. Then a terrible tragedy had struck the continent and Arcton had become a divided empire. One of the powers that rose up in the wake of the catastrophe had been Blackwald, along with Timber to the southeast, and the Arcton Dukedom, remnant of the Arcton Empire, to the northeast.

Blackwald quickly established its military might eighteen years ago in the war against the eastern nation of Asmarin and the invasion of its neighbour, Timber. Since then, Blackwald held a reputation for subjugating other nations. So the invasion of Arcton had come as no surprise. Still, Malthus wondered why Blackwald had chosen to invade Arcton now, eighteen years later. What had prompted the invasion?

He must have looked very lost in thought, for Lucas leaned over and waved, catching his attention. He looked up. "What is it, Malthus?" he asked him.

Malthus looked back down at the floor. It didn't really matter. The reasons behind the Blackwald's attack were not necessary to the mission. His orders had been given; that was all he needed to know. Still, it was best that he made sure that he had understood the mission details correctly, before they disembarked. He looked up.

"Explain that again," he asked him.

Lucas sat up straight, assuming his instructor role. "Here's a quick explanation," he began. "The goal for this mission is to eliminate the Blackwald forces that have entered Arcton. The order to withdraw takes priority. Be sure to make your way back to the shore when you get this order."

"Listen up," Zikael said suddenly, cutting in over Lucas. "Our goal for this mission is to mop up all the Blackwald soldiers still left in Arcton. All you boys"—meaning Malthus and Wulffast—"have to do is take orders from me, the captain."

Lucas rubbed at his temple, feeling the headache grow stronger. He worried about the outcome of this exam. With Zikael in charge, almost anything could happen. He hoped Headmaster Ervin knew what he was doing.

On the other hand, Wulffast was becoming excited. "My first real battle…" he said. Malthus looked up. Wulffast's eyes were bright with excitement. "I'm getting pretty nervous."

"Better not piss in your pants," Zikael said offhandedly.

Wulffast glared at him. "Huh!" he demanded loudly. "You talkin' to me?"

"Heh heh…" Zikael laughed to himself.

"…Bastard," Wulffast growled.

Malthus sighed inwardly.

"Okay, enough talk," said Lucas, interrupting before Zikael or Wulffast could escalate things further. "We'll be landing pretty soon. Get ready."

Wulffast's mood changed at once, turning back into excitement. "Roger," he said. His wrath for Zikael momentarily forgotten, he began to crack his knuckles and stretch out his muscles, readying himself for the battles ahead.

"All right," said Malthus, without looking up.

"Yeah, yeah…" Zikael replied, yawning. He reached out and touched his weapon, as though reassuring himself that it was still there, and then sank back in his chair again. "Well then, Malthus," he said after a moment. "Go see what's going on outside."

It wasn't a request. "…" Malthus sighed. "…Okay." He rose to his feet.

"Good," said Zikael. "Because it's MY order."

Malthus stood alone on the upper deck of the White wing ship, watching the horizon. The ocean waters rippled as the ship ploughed its way through. Above him, the sun was beginning its slow descent, giving the sky a pale orange hue. The moon was already visible; its reflection was large and full in the water.

Around him were half a dozen ships, each one filled with White wing and other students. At that moment everyone would be preparing themselves for battle. The students would be nervous, gathering their courage. Their instructors would be giving last minute instructions, for once the students disembarked they would be on their own. If they did not perform their duty, they would fail the exam. Or, as a worst case scenario, they would all die. Malthus, however, refused to think about that option. All his thoughts were centred solely on the mission.

Malthus looked away from the horizon and down at a photograph of Arcton that he had picked up before heading out. It was a view of Arcton as it appeared from the sea. There was the shoreline and the city's many docks, along with the numerous wave-breakers positioned in various places around the shore. To the south of the city, on top of a sloping cliff, was an old communication tower.

Malthus then dropped a second sheet on top of the photograph. It was a transparent sheet, detailed with the plans of attack. It marked Lapin Beach, where they would land, along with the various points where the White wing and students would be dispatched in the city and mountains. Key positions had also been labelled; Malthus figured these were the main parts of the city they had to protect.

The swordsman lowered the photo and looked ahead. Arcton was directly ahead of him, but it was not the same Arcton that he had seen in the photograph. The Arcton he saw before him was a city engulfed in the grip of war. Explosions tore their way through the city, sending clouds of fire and smoke into the air. He could hear the gunfire even from here, and he could smell the scent of the smoke.

Arcton soldiers swarmed across Lapin Beach after being forced to give up their positions inside the city. They charged across the sand, trying to re-enter the city. A Blackwald soldier holding a bazooka opened fire and hit a truck parked on the beach. The truck exploded, sending one Arcton soldier flying and forcing many more onto their knees, covering their faces as clouds of smothering smoke filled the air.

Malthus watched the battle from the upper deck. More explosions erupted on the beach, as the Arcton soldiers were once again forced to draw back. The brightness of the flames glittered in Malthus's eyes as he narrowed them in determination. He was ready.

A loud roar rumbled below him as the ship's engines suddenly revved up. Malthus quickly ducked down below deck, returning to the safety of the interior.

The White wing ships broke formation and surged forward. They moved at great speed, heading towards war-torn Arcton.

The mission had begun.

Chapter Four: Life or Death

The White wing vessels approached the shore. They spread out, approaching from different angles, powering their way through the water. Their initial strike had to be fast, to move in before the Blackwald Army could realise they were there.

Two of the vessels were heading for the large stone wavebreakers positioned around the shore. The nearest ship veered away at the last moment, but the second carried on moving forward and crashed into the wall. There was a loud CRUNCH as the ship's specially designed hull smashed right through the stone, creating a large gap. The ship moved up and over the broken wall until it came out the other side and landed back in the water. Undamaged, the ship continued forward.

The ship hit the shore. It beached itself upon the sand. All around it the other White wing ships had done the same, anchoring themselves onto the shore. The ship's hull opened up and Malthus, Wulffast and Zikael came running out.

The scent of smoke was heavy on the air. It billowed up from the exploded truck, trailed along the beach and across the sea. Luckily there was a strong breeze blowing and the smoke moved quickly, leaving the beach clear. There was no sign of the Arcton soldiers; they had fled the moment that White wing arrived.

Squad B turned back to the ship. Lucas and Xu were standing in the doorway. They spoke for a brief moment, before Xu saluted and ran down from the ship. She passed Squad B, hurrying along the sands towards the city. Another squad of students ran out of one of the nearby vessels and also made their way towards the city. Squad B looked at Lucas, awaiting their orders. The instructor faced them, his face grim.

"Okay, you are to secure the Central Square!" the instructor commanded sharply. Another explosion sounded nearby, and he raised his voice to be heard over the boom. "Be sure to prepare your FS before you head into battle!"

Zikael turned from him. Raising his weapon, he pointed it down the beach. "Let's move out!" he ordered. Without waiting for their response he set off along the beach, leaving Malthus and Wulffast behind.

Wulffast looked at Malthus and rolled his eyes. The swordsman turned away from him. They had to get moving, or they would lose sight of Zikael. He glanced down at his gunblade, making sure it was secure, and then he ran after Zikael. Wulffast ran close behind him, excitement burning in his eyes.

Zikael was just up ahead, standing by the steps leading up to the esplanade. The squad that had ran past before was standing by here, waiting for Zikael and his squad to pass before they made the beach secure. When Malthus and Wulffast approached Zikael ran on ahead, leaping up the steps towards the top.

There were two Blackwald soldiers waiting for them at the top at the top of the stairs, drawn by the sounds of White wing's arrival. The Blackwald Army was easily identified in their blue uniforms and silver-coloured armour. In a normally quiet city such as this, they were an alarming sight. When they saw Zikael come bounding up the steps with his squad in tow, they reached for their guns and aimed at them. Seeing that they were not Arcton soldiers as they had expected, they hesitated.

"They're Arcton reinforcements?" one of the soldiers asked, looking at his comrade.

He got his answer quickly, as the squad reached the top of the steps and Zikael darted forward. Zikael was quick and struck so fast the soldiers barely had the time to react. With a single swipe of his sword he felled the soldier and then turned on his comrade. The soldier hesitated and stepped back. He then raised his gun, but his hesitation was costly. Zikael ran up to him and grabbed him by his helmet. He shoved, pushing the soldier hard against a wall. While he stood, dazed, Zikael pulled him forward and threw him over the balustrade. The soldier landed on the sand below, much to the shock of the three students standing below.

With the two soldiers dispatched the squad hurried on, leaving the other team to clean up the mess. With the promenade now under White wing's control, no other Blackwald soldiers would be able to advance on the shore. Now Squad B was hurrying to the Central Square to secure the heart of the city. They moved quickly through the city, following the main road.

As they ran down a street Malthus noticed that all the buildings were closed, their windows boarded up. There was no sign of any civilians, either. Presumably they had all fled into the mountains to wait out the battle. At least casualties would be reduced to a minimum, thought Malthus. But where were all the Arcton soldiers?

Just as Malthus was thinking this, Zikael suddenly came to a stop ahead of him. The squad leader looked up, and his eyes narrowed.

There was a stone walkway overhead, joining two buildings on both sides of the street. On this walkway were two more Blackwald soldiers, patrolling the rooftops. The soldiers spotted them and jumped down from the walkway, landing on the path in front of the squad. They raised their rifles.

"Look out, it's White wing!" shouted one of the soldiers, recognising the White wing logo on Malthus and Wulffast's uniforms.

The two soldiers opened fire. Wulffast jumped back out of the way, while Zikael and Malthus raised their blades to block the oncoming bullets. The gunfire stopped, as the two soldiers reloaded their weapons. In that moment the two swordsmen charged forward, moving together. They met the soldiers head-on. They clashed, grappled with the soldiers, and a few moments later the soldiers fell to the ground.

Zikael walked up to the two lifeless soldiers. He looked down at them, a look of disdain on his face. That look turned to anger and he kicked away one of the rifles, sending it skittering across the street. That had been pathetically easy. If there was one thing Zikael hated, it was an easy fight. He had hoped, with these being Blackwald soldiers, they would be more of a challenge. Still, there might be some soldiers worth fighting out there.

Without saying a word to Malthus or Wulffast, Zikael stepped over the bodies of the soldiers. He hurried on towards the Central Square.

Malthus and Wulffast hesitated, unsure of whether they should follow him right away. The bodies of the two soldiers were lying in the middle of the street. Somehow, it didn't feel right to just leave them there.

The door to a nearby café opened. Squad C came running out and took up positions outside the door, securing the main road. Seeing their fellow students, Malthus motioned to Wulffast to follow him. The other squad could clean up the mess. They had to secure the Central Square as quickly as possible.

They found Zikael further down the road, standing by an abandoned car, waiting impatiently for them to catch up.

"The Central Square is up ahead," he told them when they finally caught up. Turning away from them, he shouted down the path. "Hey! All you Blackwald cowards out there! Come out'n show your faces! Don't leave me hangin' now!"

Zikael then ran off, once again leaving his squad behind. Wulffast watched him go, his hand on his hip. "…What an idiot," he said, shaking his head.

Malthus said nothing on the matter. Despite Zikael's abrasive and provocative attitude towards this mission, they were making progress, and since Zikael was their squad leader they had no choice but to follow him. The two ran off again, quickening their pace to try and catch up with their leader.

As Zikael had told them, the Central Square was just ahead. Zikael, as expected, was already there. He stood beside a large fountain in the centre, his face creased into a frown as he was once again forced to wait for his squad to catch up to him.

Malthus and Wulffast entered the Square. Suddenly they both stopped and raised their weapons (or fists!), their eyes fixed on the fountain.

Zikael turned. A Blackwald soldier emerged from behind the fountain where he had been lying in wait and charged at Zikael with his gun raised. Zikael darted forward to meet him. He knocked the gun aside with his fist and then thrust his sword forward.

Seeing the blade coming, the soldier leaned back. The blade's tip stopped just inches away from his helmet. The soldier let out a sigh of relief. Zikael smirked. In a sudden, swift movement, he swung his sword. The Blackwald soldier did not even have time to cry out. He fell against the found and slumped to the floor, dead.

"There may be more…" Malthus warned, looking about the Square.

Zikael rested his sword against his shoulder, frowning thoughtfully. Wulffast walked past him and knelt beside the body of the soldier. Grumbling to himself, annoyed that he had not managed to get in on any of the action yet, he heaved the soldier up onto his back and carried him across the Square. He dumped the body in an alleyway behind a garbage bin. Still grumbling, he returned to his friends.

"All right," said Zikael as he came to a decision. "I want you guys to scout the area for enemies."

Malthus nodded silently. He began to explore the perimeter of the Central Square, keeping an eye out for any other Blackwald soldiers that were in hiding, waiting to strike. Wulffast searched with him, still grumbling under his breath. Malthus put the fighter out of his mind and focused solely on his search.

Malthus moved on to search the northern side of the Square. He was just walking past one of the closed shops when he heard a noise coming from his left. Malthus paused and listened carefully.

The sound came again: a low shuffle, and the sound of metal scraping on stone. Looking downwards, Malthus saw that the ground beneath him was patterned stone. There was someone nearby, hiding. Malthus let his eyes wander slowly to his left. There was a car parked nearby, next to an abandoned hotel. At the edge of the car he saw a moving shadow. The hider was there, behind the car.

Malthus glanced at Wulffast. The fighter had also heard the noise and was making his way slowly around Malthus, heading casually towards the car. Malthus rested his hand on the hilt of his gunblade as he began to walk towards the car. Zikael watched in silence as his squad advanced on the car and then, when they were close enough, they struck.

Wulffast leaped over the bonnet of the car, landing in front of their hidden assailant. It was another Blackwald soldier. When Wulffast suddenly appeared in front of him it startled him so much that he dropped his gun, letting it clatter onto the floor. He fumbled for it, but Wulffast grabbed the soldier by his armour and shoved him back. He then leaped on the soldier, his fists a blur of movement.

The soldier grappled with Wulffast and must have landed a lucky blow, for Wulffast suddenly doubled over, clutching at his face. The soldier shoved him off and scrabbled to his feet. He rushed for his weapon. A figure stepped in front of it, and the soldier looked up to find Malthus standing over him.

The swordsman swung his sword, forcing the soldier back. He backed right up into Wulffast, who had now recovered from the blow to his head and was right behind him. Wulffast cracked his knuckles ominously and drew back his fist. He swung it with all his might and caught the soldier on the side of his face. Malthus stepped aside as the soldier staggered forward and landed against the car, his legs buckling.

The soldier tried to recover, but Wulffast was in front of him again. The fighter delivered a second blow that sent the soldier flying over the car. He hit the ground on the other side. Wulffast flexed his wrist and moved to stand over him. The Blackwald tried sit up. Wulffast knelt and drew back his fist one more time. The resulting blow caused the Blackwald's helmet to crack and split apart, falling like a broken eggshell on either side of the soldier's face. The soldier, on the other hand, was unconscious, knocked out by the blow. Wulffast rose to his feet, and Malthus came to stand beside him.

"I think that's all of them," said Malthus.

Wulffast nodded. He rubbed his knuckles, pleased with himself. He turned to Zikael, grinning broadly. Let's see what Zikael had to say about him now!

Unfortunately, Zikael was not paying the least bit attention. The swordsman had turned away from him and Malthus and was seemingly lost in thought, tapping his blade absently against his shoulder. Wulffast fumed and clenched his fist. Angrily he turned away. He bent down to pick up the body of the unconscious soldier, planning to dump it in the alley along with his fallen comrade.

Malthus sheathed his sword and went back over to Zikael. As he approached he noticed that a small brown dog had wandered into the Square and was now standing at Zikael's feet, sniffing the swordsman curiously. Zikael did not seem the notice the dog, or just did not care that it was there.

"Well then," said Zikael when Wulffast had returned, "we're on standby 'til the enemy comes." He took a few steps away from them and looked around the empty Square. "Standby…" he said with a sigh. "How boring…"

With nothing else to do other than wait, the squad relaxed. Wulffast went to one side and began to do some simple stretching exercises to keep his muscles warmed up. Zikael, unable to relax, returned to tapping his sword against his shoulder.

The dog, also bored, padded over to Malthus and sat down in front of him. It whined, gazing up at him with its large, golden-brown eyes. Malthus knelt down and held out his hand. The dog sniffed his hand curiously. It then pushed its head into Malthus's hand, and Malthus gently stroked its fur. Its body was trembling slightly. The dog had probably been left behind when the people of Arcton fled for the mountains.

The silence was suddenly shattered by the sound of gunfire. Malthus looked up. The sound was distant, and came from the mountains surrounding Arcton. Malthus guessed that the battle had begun and the qualified members of White wing had engaged with the Blackwald Army, trying to drive the enemy forces back.

"Sounds like it's starting," he said, looking up at Zikael.

"Bring it on," replied Zikael, without looking at him.

The sounds of the battle continued to rage. Malthus looked back down at the dog. Its head was lowered and it was whining softly. He reached out to pet it again, but the dog pulled its head away from his hand and wandered over to Zikael. The swordsman had his back to the dog and so it nuzzled the back of his legs, trying to get his attention. Zikael ignored it. The dog then barked at him, and pawed at his coat. This time Zikael did respond—he turned and glowered at the dog.

"Get outta here!" he spat. "Scram!"

The dog did not move and continued to paw at him. Wulffast, seeing this, was forced to cover his mouth as he tried very hard not to laugh out loud. Fuming, Zikael turned and stormed across the Square towards Wulffast, and for a moment Malthus feared that he had heard Wulffast and was going to strike him. Instead Zikael brushed past Wulffast and stopped on the other side of the fountain. The swordsman began to swipe his sword rapidly, and the air made a whoosh as it passed over the blade.

"Hey!" he yelled, over the distant gunfire. "Blackwald soldiers! What are you waiting for! Come show me what you got!"

He gave the sword a few more furious swipes. Finally, his fury spent, Zikael lowered his sword. The streets, in response, remained silent. Nobody came to answer his call. The only response came from the dog, which barked loudly. There was no other choice. They would have to wait.

Nearly a full hour passed by, and still the students continued to wait. At the top of the hotel, a clock struck six. The sound of the bell was the only thing to pierce the sounds of the battle that still raged in the mountains, but the city itself remained perfectly still. The enemy was nowhere to be seen.

With nothing else to do but wait, Wulffast shoved his hands deep into his trouser pockets and paced across the Square. His eyes were fixed on the floor as he walked, tracing the intricate patterns inlaid on the bricks. When he reached the end of his cycle he paused, turned, and walked back the same way. Boredom showed strongly on his face. This was not how he had expected the White wing exam to go.

Malthus took another look around the Square. From his position he could see down all of Arcton's main streets, another reason why their position was so important. They would be able to see any soldiers trying to make their way through the city. Yet despite their prime position, the city was quiet.

"…Nothing," said Malthus, as he finished looking down the empty streets. He looked over at Zikael. His fellow swordsman was leaning against a wall, still tapping his blade against his shoulder. The dog, still hanging around, sat at Zikael's feet.

"Still keeping us waiting…?" Zikael said absently, mostly to himself.

Zikael had become more and more tense as the minutes passed by. His fingers played along the hilt of his sword, pausing only to tap the weapon against his shoulder. One time when he paused, his fingers ran over the blade's hilt. Zikael repeated this procedure many times, though for what purpose it served, Malthus didn't know.

Another minute passed. Then Wulffast abruptly stopped his pacing and punched the ground with his fist, causing the brick to crack. The dog, startled by this sudden movement, leaped back in alarm and flattened its ears against its head, growling.

"…The HELL!" Wulffast shouted. "Man… Now this is what I call boring." He rose to his feet and looked at Malthus with pleading eyes. "This ain't right, man!" he objected.

Malthus shook his head, remaining silent. What did Wulffast expect him to do about it? Receiving no response, Wulffast gave an exaggerated sigh and thrust his hands back into his pockets. With nothing better to do, he resumed his pacing.

Another minute passed by, and another, and another. Then Zikael, unable to contain his impatience any longer, suddenly cried out in rage. He began to swipe his sword in front of him again, slicing furiously through the air.

"That's it…" Zikael bellowed angrily. "I can't take it anymore! What is this, some kind of dog training!"

He swiped the sword again and again. As he brought the blade down it struck the ground, causing sparks to fly where the blade cut into the stone. The dog, alarmed once more, jumped up from its spot and ran away from Zikael. It ran to the other side of the Square and stopped by the fountain. Raising its head, it began to howl loudly. Malthus and the others watched it closely.

The dog continued to howl. Another sound then caught Malthus's ear. He turned and looked down one of the main streets leading away from the dock. There was nobody there. He was just about to turn away when he saw a flash of light by one of the doorways. It was the flash of sunlight catching on metal. So someone was there.

Malthus signalled to Zikael and gestured down the street. The swordsman glanced down, also saw the light, and nodded his head. Malthus tapped Wulffast on the shoulder. Wulffast nodded; he had also seen the light. Hurriedly Malthus knelt down behind the fountain, with Wulffast close behind him. Zikael stepped back behind the wall and peered out into the Square.

The dog stopped howling and ran off down the street leading to the dog. There was a moment's pause, and then a figure entered the Square. The squad recognised him at once to be a Blackwald soldier—there was no mistaking that blue uniform.

The soldier, however, was acting very strangely. At first they thought he was wounded, for he was crouching down and holding onto his armour. The soldier then paused and glanced around the Square, and they realised that he wasn't injured, just sneaking by. He was holding his armour so that it made no sound when he moved. After making sure that there was no one around, the soldier began to sneak down the southward street, towards the mountains.

A moment later more soldiers entered the Square, following the first one. They all moved in the same manner, sneaking by as quietly as they could. They all headed down the southbound street and disappeared from sight.

When they were gone, Malthus rose to his feet. "It's the enemy…" he said.

"Where the hell they goin'?" asked Wulffast, folding his arms.

Zikael ran forward and stopped at the top of the street. The soldiers were running now, making their way across a large stone bridge at the end of the street. On the other side was a mountain path that rose up a sloping hill. The sounds of fighting were not coming from this direction, but down the other street, the one leading out of the city. So why were these soldiers heading down this way?

Their gazes drifted upwards, following the mountain path. Perched on top of the hill was an old communication tower—the same one Malthus had seen on the map prior to their landing.

"Hey? What is that up there?" Wulffast asked, pointing at the tower.

A smile appeared on Zikael's face. He walked forward and pointed his blade down the path after the soldiers, who were just disappearing on the mountain path. "Our next destination," he announced.

"But that's against orders!" protested Wulffast.

Zikael sighed heavily. He should have known that chicken-wuss would be the first to object. "Weren't you just saying how bored you were?" he asked casually.

Wulffast's jaw dropped open. He turned away from Zikael and looked to Malthus, desperately seeking support. "Malthus!"

Malthus could feel Wulffast's gaze burning into him, urging him to speak. He knew what Wulffast was thinking. If Malthus also opposed the idea, then Zikael would be forced to reconsider his decision to leave their post. It was one of the standard rules of leadership in White wing. Of course, Zikael would go anyway, regardless of whether his squad approved his decision or not. And, despite himself, Malthus was curious to know where the soldiers were headed. He turned away from Wulffast and Zikael.

"I stand by the captain's decision," he answered finally.

Once again, Wulffast's jaw dropped open. Though he did not know what he had expected Malthus to say, this was as far from it as possible. Even Zikael looked surprised.

"…Captain's decision?" he repeated. He looked at Malthus approvingly, impressed by his rival's sudden show of support. He walked over to Malthus and placed his hand on the young man's shoulder. "You want to wreak some havoc too, don't you?"

Malthus brushed off Zikael's hand. Zikael stared at his hand and then glowered at Malthus, annoyed. Malthus turned to face him, looking at him with a steadfast gaze.

"It's a good opportunity to test out my training," the teenager responded curtly, not wanting Zikael to get the wrong idea. "Thanks to you, I feel like I can take on anyone. Even if they do fight dirty, like you."

"You'll thank me when the time comes," Zikael said, his voice barely a whisper. Malthus was just about to ask him to repeat it when another voice butted in.

"What the hell…"

Malthus and Zikael turned. They had almost forgotten about Wulffast. The fighter had his arms folded across his chest as he stared at the two, looking puzzled. "I thought you guys didn't get along?" he asked them. "You're like, all buddy-buddy now."

The fighter came to stand in front of them. "Listen," he said. "This ain't no ordinary battle. It's an exam, an important one. I'm tellin' ya, we have to stick to orders."

At this Zikael's brows creased and his face returned to its usual cold arrogance. "Then you stay here," he responded sharply. He heaved his sword up onto his shoulder. "I don't need any boy scouts."

In a flash Wulffast raised his fists. "What was that!" he shouted. His body was trembling with anger, and his face turned red. Zikael smiled that same arrogant grin. This only made Wulffast madder, and he longed to beat that smile off Zikael's face.

Malthus sighed. "Don't take him seriously, Wulffast," he said, and then turned to Zikael. "Zikael, if we're gonna go, let's hurry."

Zikael nodded. He faced his squad. "The enemy is headed for the facility. We, Squad B, are to secure the summit. Move out!"

"Alright," said Malthus.

Realising that he had lost the argument, Wulffast folded his arms. "Tch… Fine."

As the squad hurried down towards the bridge, the dog came out of its hiding place and padded back into the Square. It watched as Malthus, Zikael and Wulffast ran across the bridge. The dog whimpered and sat down, waiting for them to return.

Chapter Five: The communication tower

The bridge was eerily silent as the students made their way across. The only sounds came from the battle that was still raging in the surrounding mountains. It showed no signs of letting up just yet. Thick black smog hung like a pall over the cliffs and was slowly trailing over the city. The air around them felt charged, electrified, and every so often there was a flash of light from the mountains, coming from the White wing and soldiers using their para-magic or Guardian Forces to aid them in their fight. Aside from that, everything else was silent.

There was no sign of any soldiers, but still they kept a close eye on the rooftops of the city behind them. As they passed the halfway point they turned their eyes to the mountain slope ahead of them. The rocky cliffs would provide adequate cover for any snipers, and so they watched them closely.

As usual Zikael pulled ahead of them. He made no attempt to hide himself. To his mind, that was the coward's way. No, Zikael wanted to be in the open, where the enemy could see him… and where he could see them.

Behind Zikael and Malthus, Wulffast was morosely silent. This was going against orders. If Lucas and the headmaster found out, then they would be punished. At the very least, they would fail the exam. At the most, they could be expelled. Yet even as he thought this, he could not help but feel a tingle of excitement. Disobeying orders or not, at least they were doing something!

They reached the other end of the bridge and hurried to the mountain path. They did not get far before they stopped and stared around them. Several dead and wounded Arcton soldiers lay slumped across the path. Blood lay splattered about the path, staining the shrubbery an ugly red. The stench of blood was thick in the air and would be nauseating to the weak of heart. Malthus heard Wulffast choke back a cough, and he himself felt a little sickened, though he did his best not to show it. Zikael, meanwhile, showed no reaction to the sight of the wounded.

"That's war for you," was all he said.

They walked forward. They moved slowly, not wanting to disturb the scene. Most of the soldiers seemed to have died from gunshot wounds; however one or two soldiers had injuries that definitely did not come from rifles.

They passed one soldier lying face down near the edge of the cliff at the entrance to some shrubbery that bordered the path. The soldier had a gunshot wound in his chest, but there were also two larger, bloodier marks in the soldier's waist and left thigh. To make the image worse, the left leg looked torn, as though it had been ripped hard and was now half-severed. The soldier had bled to death, and his face was frozen in a mask of terror. Wulffast gulped and Malthus instinctively placed his hand on his sword, keeping it close to hand. They continued on.

At the end of the slope was a set of rugged stone steps leading up the side of the cliff. Here the scene of carnage ended, and the three students hurried up the slope.

A slithering noise came from the nearby bushes. The students stopped and immediately raised their weapons. Malthus fixed his eyes on the bushes, noting every movement. The slithering noise came again, and the bushes rustled. They parted and a Arcton soldier crawled out. He was wounded. He had a bullet wound to his shoulder and there were char marks on his uniform where he had been blasted with Thunder magic. When he saw the three students he froze and stared up in alarm.

"Ahhh! W-W-Who are you!"

"Don't worry," said Malthus quickly, lowering his sword. Wulffast, too, lowered his fists. "We're White wing candidates. We've been dispatched by Garden."

This seemed to calm him. It was hard to see his face beneath his helmet, but he sighed heavily and dropped his head. Malthus glanced at his wounds. The bullet wound was deep but he did not seem to be bleeding too heavily. The burn marks looked superficial, but as the majority of harm caused by Thunder magic was done on the inside of the body it was impossible to tell just how badly he was injured.

"So what's going on up there?" asked Zikael, looking up the path.

The soldier raised his head and followed Zikael's gaze to the tower at the peak. "The Blackwald soldiers have entered the Communication Tower," he said. "On top of that…" He coughed. "That place has always been a nesting ground for monsters." He looked back at the students. "If you guys are goin' up, please be caref…"

A loud hiss came from the bushes behind him. They parted and a serpent's head came out. It opened its jaws and latched onto the soldier's leg, sinking its fangs into the flesh. The soldier cried out in surprise and pain. The serpent then pulled back, dragging the soldier backward. The soldier struggled and clawed at the floor.

"H-HELP!"

Malthus reached out to grab the soldier. The serpent drew back its head sharply and pulled the soldier into the bushes. There was terrible, pain-filled cry… which then became silent. The bushes rustled and the serpent rose up.

It was the largest serpent any of them had ever seen, hence its name: Anacondaur. More than twice their height, it slithered forward on large, powerful coils. It had a large spiked hood surrounding its tiny had, and a balloon-like sack just beneath its throat. Spikes ran along its mottled green scales all the way down to its tail. Its head was tiny compared to the rest of its body. Blood dripped down its jaws; there was cloth from the soldier's uniform embedded in its numerous tiny teeth.

The serpent opened its mouth wide and screeched loudly. Another shriek sounded back in reply and a second serpent emerged from the bushes. This serpent's fangs were also drenched in blood. The serpents had been drawn by the battle and were gorging on the wounded and the dead. That explained the soldier they had seen before, where his leg had almost been ripped off.

The second serpent slithered through the bushes and joined its comrade. Their tongues—about ten inches long and an inch wide—flicked out and tasted the air. They could feel the warmth radiating from the students in their scales and feel their racing heartbeats. Hungry, the serpents slithered out of the bushes and headed towards them.

Malthus took a cautious step back. At the movement the nearest serpent lunged forward. Malthus jumped back just as the snake's head slammed into the path. Any normal creature would have broken its skull after such a strike, but the Anacondaur's hard scales and thick skull meant it received nothing more than a dull thud. It drew back its head and gazed at Malthus. After a moment, it began to slither again.

Malthus continued to back away slowly, not wanting to draw the monster's attack. Zikael then suddenly brushed passed him and planted himself in front of the two serpents. The monsters reared up and hissed warningly, but Zikael stood firm. He raised his sword and gestured for them to attack.

They obliged. The nearest serpent lunged again, and as its head drew near Zikael swung his sword. There was a flash and the serpent shrank back, screeching in pain. Blood poured from its jaw where the blade had cut through the flesh of its mouth. The added power from the recoil caused the blade to cut through one of the serpent's many, tiny teeth. The tooth clattered to the floor. The injured serpent writhed and wrapped its coils around itself, hissing in pain and anger.

Zikael bent down and picked up the bloodied tooth, holding it in his palm. "Listen up!" he called to his two comrades. "The last strike… Save it for me!"

Wulffast muttered under his breath but said nothing out loud. He stepped forward to stand by Zikael and raised his fists. Malthus drew his sword and joined them, creating a unified—albeit unwanted—front against the two monsters.

The serpents were being more cautious now. The injured one was still writhing, wrapped tightly inside its coils. The other one, possibly its mate, made no move. Its eyes watched the students carefully, its unblinking eyes fixed on them. Clearly, the monsters had not expected humans—less than half their size and barely a tenth of their physical strength—to do them any harm.

Zikael stepped forward and swiped his sword at the second snake. The Anacondaur hissed and reared back, rising up to its full height. Its tail flicked warningly. As it moved its muscles—which were powerful enough to crush a double-decker bus—shifted beneath its dirty green scales. The snake coiled… and then lunged. At the same time Zikael charged, meeting the snake head on.

"Zikael!" called Malthus, but he was too late to stop him.

Zikael thrust out his sword. The serpent twisted its body aside just in time, and the blade slid past it. In turn its head had veered off course and slammed into the ground, stirring up dirt and dust. Zikael tilted his blade and pulled it back. The blade's edge caught onto the scales and ripped them from the serpent's body.

Agonised, the serpent reared back. It swung its barbed tail and Zikael dropped onto the ground. The moment the tail's shadow passed over his head Zikael jumped back onto his feet. He lunged, thrust out his blade a second time and smiled with satisfaction as the sword sank into the serpent's scaly torso.

The serpent shrieked and writhed in pain. Zikael withdrew his sword, carrying more scales with it. He stepped back as the monster began to thrash its tail, slamming it against the ground and cliff wall, causing the ground to shake. A chunk of rock broke from the wall and tumbled towards Wulffast, who jumped back out of the way.

"Wulffast!"

A shadow fell over him. The second serpent had recovered from its initial wound and used it mate's attack as a distraction to move in behind the group. As Wulffast turned the serpent was lunging at him, its bloody mouth open. Wulffast swung his fist and struck the serpent on its jaw, slamming the mouth shut. There was a sickening crunch as the jaw slammed shut—the bones cracked and splintered.

The snake pulled back its head, hissing loudly. Its jaw flopped open, broken. Many of its fangs were missing, driven into the roof of its mouth when Wulffast's punch slammed it shut. The Anacondaur writhed, its jaw flapping uselessly. While it writhed Malthus rushed in behind it and swung his sword. He called upon the Thunder magic he had stored within his body and unleashed it just as the blade hit the serpent's body. The blade crackled as it ripped through the scales, and then the Thunder magic leapt from the blade and onto the Anacondaur's body.

The thunder magic tore through the serpent's body, and the Anacondaur stiffened. It then began to thrash wildly, out of control. Malthus pulled back his sword and jumped back out of the way as the serpent began to writhe across the ground, heading back towards the edge of the path where it broke into a rocky slope.

Wulffast ran in to give it another swift punch. The Anacondaur recovered just enough to swing its barbed tail, forcing Wulffast to stop its advance. The serpent retreated into the bushes, hissing through its broken jaw. The pain must have blinded it to its position on the path, for it headed closer and closer to the edge of the cliff. Eventually it reached the edge and fell off, tumbling down the rocks, shrieking.

Zikael was still battling the other serpent. He jumped over the swinging tail and ran in close. He thrust out his sword, and the blade sank deeply into the Anacondaur's throat. The snake gave a strangled choke and slumped. Before the snake's excessive weight could overpower him, Zikael placed his boot on its torso and shoved it off. The serpent toppled backward into the bushes, where the natural shrubbery masked its presence. Zikael sighed in satisfaction as he took out a cloth and began to wipe his sword clean.

Silence returned to the path. Malthus looked up and down the path warily. The sounds of their battle with the Anacondaurs could have alerted the soldiers patrolling the area and come to investigate the commotion. No soldiers showed up, however. They were in the clear.

Wulffast went into the bushes and found the Arcton soldier. The man was badly wounded. His leg was torn up pretty badly, but he was still alive. Wulffast dragged him out and leaned him against the cliff wall. He placed his hands gently over the soldier's wounded leg. Coloured light began to shimmer around his hands. It descended onto the wound, and after a few seconds the wound slowly began to heal. The flesh started to knit together, bit by bit until, finally, it closed. The soldier was still unconscious.

"Monsters, huh?" said Malthus, looking down at the soldier.

Wulffast rubbed his hands together and rose to his feet. "That sucks."

Zikael shrugged. "More fun for us," he said. "Come on…" Turning his back on the soldier, Zikael hurried on up the slope.

Wulffast watched him go. "…Fun?" he repeated. He shook his head. "Pu-lease…"

Leaving the Arcton soldier to rest by the cliff wall, Malthus and Wulffast ran up the slope after Zikael. They found him at the peak, looking down over the edge of a cliff to the entrance of the tower. The tower itself rose way above them, its metal surface glinting in the afternoon sun.

Malthus and Wulffast joined their squad leader, and the three of them lay down on the dry soil to observe the tower entrance. There were two Blackwald soldiers standing guard outside. Malthus raised his eyebrow. The Arcton soldier had been right: the enemy had taken control of the tower. But for what purpose could they want it?

The door to the tower opened and Malthus returned his attention to the mission at hand. A third Blackwald soldier stepped out. His comrades turned to him.

"The generator is up and running!" said one soldier loudly, his voice carrying all the way up to the three hiding on the cliff.

"No problem with the boosters!" said the other soldier, just as loudly.

Wulffast shuffled along the grass and leaned close to Malthus. "…The hell they doing?" he asked in a whisper. Malthus did not reply. He was focused on what they were saying.

The third soldier raised his hand and saluted his comrades. "Cable disconnection confirmed! Beginning exchange process!"

"Roger."

After this brief exchange, all three soldiers then entered the tower. The doors slid shut behind them. With the coast clear, the three students stood up.

"Repairs…?" asked Malthus, thinking aloud.

Zikael shrugged. "Who cares?" The swordsman sighed and resumed tapping his sword against his shoulder. He looked at Malthus, who was gazing thoughtfully at the tower. "This must be your first real battle," he said to him. "You scared?"

Malthus glanced at him briefly and then looked away. "…I don't know," he admitted. He walked up to the edge of the cliff and looked down to where the three soldiers had stood. "I try not to think about it."

"I love battles," Zikael continued, as though he hadn't heard. "I fear nothing." He looked up at the sky and raised his hand, letting the light shine through his fingers. "The way I look at it, as long as you make it out of a battle alive, you're one step closer to fulfilling your dream."

Malthus turned and stared at him in surprise. "What! Your dream?"

Zikael lowered his hand. "You have one too, don't you?" he asked.

Folding his arms firmly over his chest, Malthus looked away from him. "…Sorry, but I'm gonna pass on that subject," he said quietly.

"Yo!" said Wulffast, walking over. "Let me in on it, too!"

"Mind your own business," Zikael snapped.

Wulffast scowled. "Friggin' hell…" he grunted irritably, and he swiped his fists in front of Zikael's face.

Unconcerned by Wulffast's display of aggression, Zikael casually leaned his head back and let the punches slide past him. "What's the matter, Wulffast?" he asked. "Swatting flies?"

Wulffast's face reddened and his fists trembled in anger. Zikael sneered at him. The swordsman then walked past him and headed down the path leading to the tower entrance. Once he disappeared around the bend, Wulffast tightened his fist and slammed it into the ground. "Damn you…!" he cursed. He shook his head.

"There you are!"

Wulffast jumped to his feet just as a small figure ran up along the rocks behind them. It was a girl, wearing a White wing student uniform. It took Malthus a moment to recognise her as the same girl he had shown around Garden earlier that day. He probably would not have recognised her at all if it had not been for that turned-out brown hair and innocent expression.

She made her way carefully over the rocks. Her shoe slipped, and she tumbled forward. She rolled over the rocks—Wulffast winced—and landed on the ground in front of them. Leaves fell from her shoulders as she sat up. She flushed and rubbed the back of her head. She grinned and stuck out her tongue. The girl climbed to her feet and brushed the dirt from her uniform, before turning to the two men in front of her.

"Are you… Squad B?" she asked. When Malthus nodded, the girl narrowed her eyes and looked at him closely. "Wait a minute…" she said. "You're the guy who showed me around, right!" Malthus nodded again, and the girl's eyes brightened. "Thanks! I don't get so lost anymore. Oh yeah, I haven't told you my name yet.

"I'm… a messenger," she continued. "Name's Selene, from Squad A." She looked at Malthus and then at Wulffast. "The squad captain's Zikael, right? Where is he?"

Malthus turned from her and looked down to the base of the Communication Tower. Zikael had reached the bottom and was now approaching the entrance. Before he reached the door he stopped and looked up at Malthus. Their eyes met. Malthus broke the gaze first and pointed down to him.

"One of these days," Zikael called up, "I'm gonna tell ya 'bout my ROMANTIC dream!" And with that, he ran to the tower. The doors opened automatically, and he ran inside.

Seeing her objective disappear inside the tower, Selene dropped her arms and sighed heavily. "This sure is tough…" she said, shaking her head. She then stood up straight, clenched her fists, and ran to the cliff edge. "Captain! Wait up!"

Then, as suddenly as she had come, she vanished, disappearing over the cliff edge. Wulffast jumped back in alarm. The girl had actually jumped off the edge! He waited to hear a crash and the sound of breaking bones. All he heard was a thud, scrabbling, and then the girl ran out onto the path below. Selene stopped by the tower and waved her arms back and forth.

"What are you waiting for!" she called up to them. "Come on! Come on!"

Wulffast stared at her, unable to believe what he had just seen. Jumping off a cliff like that… was this girl normal? It was no small drop, either, and there were a number of rocks clustered about the bottom. He was about to ask Malthus what he thought when he saw the swordsman walk forward and stand at the edge.

"Malthus…" he began hesitantly. "You're not gonna…"

Malthus did not reply. He peered down over the cliff edge to the rocks below, gauging the distance. The rocks had been piled neatly against the cliff wall, creating a slope. He could probably jump it. …Probably.

Seeing a serious look pass over Malthus's face, Wulffast paled. "It's a cliff, man…" he said feebly. "You're not gonna jump off…?" Surely Malthus wasn't actually going to…?

Apparently he was, for Malthus looked back at him and said: "That's the plan." And with that, he too jumped off the cliff.

Wulffast stared at the empty space where Malthus had previously stood. He shook his head. "Are you serious…?" he asked aloud, though it was only to himself.

Still, Wulffast Dincht was not a man to be outdone. So although every instinct inside him told him to play it safe and follow the path, he went up to the edge, stepped back, and then took a flying leap over the edge.

"Geronimoooooo!"

The ground rushed up at him. He landed on the rocks. His weight caused the boulders to shift and he almost lost his balance. Luckily his training in martial arts had given him quick reflexes, and so Wulffast adjusted his balance and jumped off the rocks to the path. Once there he paused, breathing deeply. He'd just jumped off a cliff! Was he as crazy as this Selene girl?

"Well, let's get goin'," said Selene when Malthus and Wulffast—still breathing deeply—finally joined her.

The three students approached the Communication Tower. It seemed much taller up close. Their gazes drifted to the top of the tower, taking it in. Malthus stared and then raised an eyebrow. The top of the tower was bare—the satellite dish used to transmit radio waves was missing. It was no surprise. Radio waves hadn't been used in nearly twenty years. HD cable, online broadcasting… that was the modern method of communication. That was why all of this didn't make any sense.

"So this is the Communication Tower…?" asked Wulffast, interrupting Malthus's thoughts.

"Sure is big…" Selene said.

They fell silent, staring up at the tower. For a building that was occupied by Blackwald soldiers, it was extremely quiet. Then, just as they thought this, a loud and terrified scream broke the silence.

"Ah… AAHHH!"

The screams came from inside the tower. The doors slid open and the two soldiers who had been guarding the entrance came running out. They paid no attention to Malthus or his friends as they came dashing past, hurrying to escape the tower. The reason for their fear soon became clear as Zikael came running out behind them. The swordsman's blue eyes were glinting dangerously as he swiped his sword through the air, making it whoosh. He stopped in the doorway, watching as the soldiers fled.

"Cowards," he muttered in disgust.

Selene ran up to him. "HEEEY!" she said loudly, trying to draw his attention.

Zikael didn't even look at her. Nor did he look at Malthus or Wulffast. He just turned back to the tower and went back inside, disappearing into the shadows beyond. The tower doors remained open. Selene looked at the doors and then at Malthus, who hadn't moved. She gestured to the tower.

"The captain's getting away!" she cried, a not-so-subtle hint that they follow him.

Malthus looked away and placed his hand on his hip, thinking. There was no other choice. They would have to follow Zikael into the Communication Tower.

Whether he'd made up his mind or not, Selene was already on the move. She ran to the open doorway and paused at the entrance, peering around inside. As she looked around, Malthus noticed that she had a set of nunchaku—a brand known as the 'Flail', hooked onto the back of her skirt. It was an unusual weapon favoured by the students of Trabia Garden to the east. Well, at least that answered the question of which Garden this girl had come from.

After peering around to make sure the coast was clear, Selene hurried inside. Reluctantly, Malthus and Wulffast ran in after her.

It was quite dark inside the tower; only a few lights illuminated the darkness. The air was stale and had a thick, rusted odour to it. Clearly, this tower had indeed been abandoned for a very long time. Malthus wondered why the Arcton Dukedom had never dismantled the tower or put it to some other use, instead of leaving it as a rusting relic of days gone by.

The dust was thick over the ground. When they looked down they saw that much of it had been recently disturbed and was covered in footprints, likely from Zikael and the Blackwalds. There was no sign of Zikael anywhere on the ground floor, and no sign of the Blackwalds, either. They had gone.

A sound came from above and the three students looked up. An open platform lift was descending from the upper levels and approaching the ground floor. It settled on the ground, disturbing the dust and sending it up into the air, making Wulffast cough. The lift was empty.

"…Did he go up?" asked Malthus, referring to Zikael. The swordsman folded his arms. Had Zikael gone up and sent the lift back down to collect them? …Unlikely.

Selene stepped up to the lift and peered upwards. The lift appeared to go straight up to the top of the tower—there didn't seem to be any other stops. "Heeey!" she called, her voice echoing off the rising walls. "Squad B captain!"

There was no reply. Wherever he was, Zikael couldn't hear them. In fact, for a place that was occupied by Blackwalds, the tower was eerily quiet. Wulffast walked up to the lift and looked at a control panel, checking it out.

"I think we can take this lift up…" said Malthus finally.

Selene, who was also examining the lift, turned to him. "Wanna go up?" she asked.

Better than staying down here, Malthus thought. He nodded. "Go up."

The three students stepped onto the lift. Wulffast pushed a button on the control panel. The lift shuddered and began to rise, disturbing the dust once more. After a few shaky movements the lift rose steadily. There were no rails or bars to hold onto while it rose, so they had to keep as still as possible. Well… two of them did.

"Hey, this lift is pretty cool!" said Selene, peering over the edge.

"Don't get too excited, or you'll fall," Wulffast said with a chuckle.

"Like I'm really going to!"

"Major Renald!" said Lieutenant Maddox loudly, trying to draw the major's attention.

In front of him Major Renald, commander of the Arcton Invasion Force, grunted irritably. The major was hard at work at finishing off the repairs to the tower's outer control panel. Years of neglect had left the panel in a state of disrepair, as was much of the old Communication Tower. Many of the wires were rusted and exposed, and knobs and dials had fallen off. The major had protested vehemently when he was informed that he would be in charge of conducting the repairs to the old tower. Still, orders were orders. However, the major made sure that his soldiers suffered just as much as he was. He paid no attention to the lieutenant behind him.

Lieutenant Maddox tried again. "There have been reports of a monster-shaped shadow on top of the tower," he said. He waited to see the major's response. Major Renald, however, did not reply. "Major Renald!"

"Be quiet!" the major snapped, without turning. "I'm busy!"

Maddox flinched, startled. Major Renald looked down at the portable control panel in his hand, comparing the details on the screen with the console in front of him.

"This goes like this…" the major muttered to himself, fiddling with the dials. "And… Geez, what's with these crappy old tools?" He bent down to pick up a rusted screwdriver. Thrusting it into the console, he tried to pry out a knot of old wires. Flecks of red rust came off the wires as he fiddled about, covering his gloves. "And… and… Why do I have to make all the repairs!" he shouted, angry.

At that exact moment the console shuddered and crackled with electricity. The sparks danced over the console and onto the major's hands. Major Renald cried out in shock, dropping the screwdriver. "AHHH!" he cried, cradling his hands.

Lieutenant Maddox shuffled nervously. Major Renald was a terrifying man to be around when he was in a bad mood. Which, unfortunately, was most of the time. Just as unfortunately, Blackwald soldiers could lose a month's pay just because their superior was in a bad mood. Best to leave Major Renald alone, Maddox decided wisely.

"Sir, I'll check around while the repairs are being done," he said, knowing he was not being heard. The lieutenant then quickly turned and to explore the rest of the tower.

Major Renald did not hear him, or even acknowledge his departure. The major carried on with his repairs, reattaching the broken and rusted wires.

"Let's see… Hmmm…" he muttered to himself. He took two wire ends and twisted them carefully around each other, re-establishing the connection between them. After making sure they would not come apart, he placed them back with the other wires. Then he picked up a broken dial knob and slotted it back into place. "Put this here…" He tugged it a few times to make sure it wouldn't come off. "And…"

And so he went on with his work. In fact Major Renald was so engrossed in his work that he did not notice when the lift carrying Malthus, Wulffast and Selene came up behind him. Nor did he notice when the students ran out onto the outer grid.

"This goes here…" the major continued, oblivious to the stares of the three students behind him. "And… There, it's complete!" He pushed a button on the panel and then slammed the door shut.

A loud hum rumbled from deep within the Communication Tower. Malthus, Wulffast and Selene stared around them as the tower began to vibrate, causing the gridded plating beneath their feet to tremble. The trembling grew stronger—they could feel it in their bones—and Selene watched in awe as a spanner from the toolbox began to dance along the grid, shaken about by the hum. It moved along the grid until it reached a gap in the floor. It fell through the gap and tumbled downwards. It clanged against a metal beam and then fell to the ocean at the foot of the cliff.

Inside the tower everything was coming alive. Machinery that had lain dormant for nearly twenty years activated and rumbled with life. Lights flicked on and lit up the darkened corridors. More lights lit up along the outside. It was amazing that everything still worked even after all these years. Switches flicked and dials turned. In the bowels of the tower a shaft opened, releasing a metal tube. The tube surged up the shaft, heading for the surface.

Malthus heard its approach and turned in time to see the tube shoot up out of the tower. It came to a stop above him and clamps closed over it, holding it in place. There was a moment's pause. Then lights flickered on and the tube tilted sideways into an angle, its tip pointed up at the sky. It opened up like a flower, extending three long metal bars. These bars suddenly spread out and joined with one another, creating a large, flat disc. The disc curved over and Malthus realised at once what it was: the missing satellite dish.

He watched as numerous antennae emerged from the centre of the dish and extended outwards. They crackled and buzzed and the air itself seemed to come alive, pulsing with energy. It made the hairs on their arms and necks stand on end. Three smaller satellite dishes gathered around the main one also began to crackle, sending their own signals. The transformation was complete: the tower was active.

The Blackwald major was staring up at the transmitting satellite dish, pleased. Now the Blackwalds could achieve their goal. He hadn't even noticed Malthus or his group.

Malthus tore his eyes away from the satellite dish and ran forward to the major. "What do you think you're doing!" he demanded.

Major Renald also tore his eyes away from the dish and looked at Malthus. "Huhhhh?" he said in confusion. He then puffed himself up and assumed an authoritative stance. "Likewise, MISTER!" he retorted hotly. "What do you think you're doing!"

The major then paused as he realised, suddenly, that these kids should not be here at all. "H-HEY! What happened to all the soldiers down below!" he asked. He jabbed his finger at them. "MADDOX!" he commanded. "Take care of these twerps!"

He received no answer. Lieutenant Maddox was nowhere to be seen. Major Renald glanced around nervously, realising, for the first time, that he as alone here.

"M…Maddox?" he repeated, almost meekly.

His eyes flitted from student to student. He glanced at Wulffast, who flashed him a smug grin as he crossed one leg over the other and flexed his fists. He then turned to Selene, who placed her hands behind her back and smiled innocently. Lastly he looked at Malthus, who placed a hand on his hip and gave him a firm stare. The major's eyes drifted down to their uniforms and the symbol on their right sleeves. Recognition dawned in the major's eyes, and he gulped loudly.

"I… ah…" he stammered. His fingers drummed against the console he was holding. "Well… ah… I seem to be done here, so I'll just be on my…"

The major then began to shuffle slowly forwards, step by step, past the students. Malthus, Wulffast and Selene turned with him, watching him go. "Move it!" the major said, though his commanding tone had gone. "Move… move…"

He continued to shuffle until he reached the lift, which was just rising back to the top floor. Malthus couldn't recall seeing it go back down, but when it did come back up it brought Zikael with it. The major had his back to Zikael and so didn't notice him. Zikael stepped off the lift and swung his sword, catching the major's hand. Major Renald cried out and cradled his hand. His console clattered onto the floor.

"Sorry to crash the party," said Zikael casually. Wulffast tightened his fists.

Major Renald, still cradling his hand, stepped back in alarm. "Ah… AHH… AHHHH!" he cried. "Are you CRAZY!"

Zikael ignored the question and spat on the ground. "Just shut UP."

He raised his sword. Seeing the raised weapon, Major Renald turned and ran across the outer grid. He brushed past Wulffast, making him stagger against the wall, and ran to the console where he had been working. He picked up a rusty metal bar from the floor and held it in both hands like a club.

"Prepare for the worst, you brats!" he shouted loudly, and then charged at them.

He charged at Malthus first, hoping to knock the student off the tower. Malthus jumped back as the major swung the metal bar, narrowly missing his face. He landed against Zikael, who shoved him aside and then darted forward. Malthus staggered back, coming perilously close to the edge of the platform. Quickly Selene grabbed his hand and pulled him back.

The major swung his bar at Zikael, who raised his sword to block the blow. To Zikael's right Wulffast tried to move in for an attack, but Zikael thrust out his hand and pushed him back. He flashed Wulffast a glance and his message was clear: stay out of my way.

The swordsman advanced on the Blackwald major. He swung his sword in large, sweeping arcs, forcing the major back. In one arc the sharp blade sliced across the metal gridding. Sparks rose from where metal scraped along metal, and a long scratch was left in the sword's wake.

Major Renald used his metal bar to block the repeated blows. When the blade clanged against the bar it sent shudders all down his arms, but he held firm. Each blow left a dent in the metal, a dent that grew bigger with each strike. Eventually the bar snapped in two, unable to take the strain.

Zikael grinned and brought his sword down hard. Seeing this, Major Renald hurriedly crossed the two pieces in front of him. The blade smashed into the bars but did not cut through, and Zikael began to press down on them, trying make them snap. The major was at a disadvantage, having to use both arms to keep the sword at bay. He dropped down onto one knee to support himself, continuing to push back.

"Major Renald… Have you finished the repairs, sir?"

Malthus looked up. From behind the main console where the major had been working emerged Lieutenant Maddox. The lieutenant paused. When he saw his commander on his knees with Zikael's sword just inches from his head, he jumped back in alarm.

"What is the enemy doing here!" he cried, stepping out.

Zikael glanced up and cursed in irritation at the interruption. He pressed down harder on his sword, bringing the blade close to the glass of the major's helmet. Thin lines of metal peeled off the bars as the blade sliced through them. Major Renald grunted loudly and pushed back with all his strength, keeping Zikael at bay.

"MADDOX!" he bellowed through gritted teeth. "Where were you!" He flashed the lieutenant a scathing glance over his shoulder. "No pay for you this month!"

At this Lieutenant Maddox flinched, already feeling the loss in his wallet. "…Should've stayed home," he grumbled miserably. He shook his head. Then he drew his sword from its sheath and ran forward to support his commander.

Before he could reach Major Renald, however, another figure suddenly appeared in front of him and struck him a powerful blow on the front of his helmet. The lieutenant staggered back, startled, clutching his cracked visor. He looked up to see Wulffast standing in front of him. The fighter cracked his knuckles and walked forward. Malthus walked alongside him, his gunblade drawn and glinting in the afternoon light.

Lieutenant Maddox stepped back, and then stopped. He shook his head. What was he getting so worked up for? These were kids! This was probably their first battle. The one in the white trenchcoat looked like he posed a threat, but these others… The lieutenant smiled. He grasped his sword in both hands and charged.

Wulffast started to go forward but Malthus ran past him and met the lieutenant head-on. They clashed blades, which flashed as they caught the sun's light. Both men put all their weight into their blades, each trying to force the other back. Malthus proved to be the stronger of the two and pushed the lieutenant back. He staggered back, tripped over the toolbox, and fell back onto the floor. His sword fell next to him.

Then Wulffast was on him, punching him repeatedly in the face and chest. Somehow he managed to catch those powerful fists and pushed Wulffast back. Then he sat up, reached out and grabbed his sword. He swung hit and Wulffast rolled back and onto his feet. Maddox did the same, rising to his feet and briefly glanced over at his commander. His eyes widened.

Malthus ran up and thrust out his sword, and Maddox barely had time to raise his and blow the blow. Sparks rose from the clashing blades, and they resumed their previous battle. This time it was Maddox who proved himself the stronger and forced Malthus back.

The swordsman recovered his balance quickly. When he looked up the lieutenant was rushing towards him with his blade thrust out. Malthus quickly dived out of the way and rolled. Maddox passed him and carried on running. Only then did Malthus realise Maddox's true objective: his commander.

Major Renald was still locked in a fierce confrontation with Zikael: a confrontation that had ended up with Major Renald being perilously close to the edge of the platform. Zikael had him on the ropes and was driving him back with his sword, fully prepared to send the major falling over the edge. Seeing this, Maddox had altered his attack so that he would end up charging at Zikael in an attempt to rescue his commander.

Something flashed in front of him. Maddox only got the briefest of glimpses of it: a long wooden bar with golden studs, attached to a chain… It wrapped around the blade of his sword and then tugged hard. Maddox was pulled off his feet. He slammed hard into the ground, still holding his sword. He rolled close to Zikael, who jumped back out of the way. Major Renald jumped over him, not caring, and ran forward to continue fighting his opponent.

Maddox shook his head and started to rise to his feet. A boot then slammed down on his hand, causing him to cry out. He looked up. Selene—he had forgotten there was a fourth one—was standing over him. With a flick of her wrist the Flail detached itself from the lieutenant's blade and returned to her hand. Holding both bars, she tapped it nonchalantly against her shoulder, an innocent grin on her face.

A pair of strong hands grabbed the lieutenant's shoulders and hefted him roughly to his feet. He was spun around and then keeled over as Wulffast delivered a swift and powerful punch to the gut. The lieutenant coughed, winded. Wulffast then grabbed his helmet and pulled his head back up. He punched the visor, smashing it completely, and Maddox cried out as the fist connected with his cheekbone.

Maddox staggered back. He fell back onto the gridding. A sharp pain shot up his arm; he had a dislocated bone in his right hand where Selene had stamped on him. There was a flash of movement and Maddox scrabbled back, just as Malthus's sword came smashing down in front of him. The lieutenant stopped by the repaired console and leaned against it, cradling his injured hand.

He heard a loud grunt and Major Renald came staggering back to stand beside him. He had lost the metal bars he had been using as a weapon. He now fiddled with the mechanism on his right arm. Maddox looked at him and then at the four White wing students, who were walking towards them.

"Major!" the lieutenant cried, turning back to his commander. "We're doomed!"

Major Renald didn't even spare him a glance. "Stop your whining!" he snapped.

He turned to Maddox and spread his hands. A fluorescent green light passed over them and then descended onto the lieutenant. His armour sparkled as the light passed straight through and entered his body. His breathing became easier and there was a gentle, painless crack in his hand as a finger bone slid back into place. The cuts on his face from the broken visor healed. Maddox looked down at his hand and flexed his fingers. There was no pain. He was healed.

Malthus paused. Of course, he had almost forgotten: Blackwald soldiers could also use para-magic. He was also willing to bet that they had more para-magic up their sleeves than just healing magic. But it would be dangerous to use magic up here, with all of this equipment around them. He was sure the Blackwalds would not take such a risk.

Apparently he thought wrong, for when Major Renald had finished fiddling with his arm mechanism he raised it and pointed it at the students. He closed his fist, and a cloud of flame began to form around it. With his free hand he pressed a button on the mechanism and it opened fire, releasing a barrage of bullets. The bullets were coated in a special material, so that when they passed through the flames they caught fire. These fiery bullets headed towards the four students.

Malthus, Wulffast and Selene leaped back as the flame-covered bullets came zipping towards them. Many zipped harmlessly past. One bullet, however, caught Wulffast's forearm and cut a burning gash in the flesh. The fighter gripped his burned arm and dropped onto his knees. Malthus hurriedly darted in front and guarded him with his blade, shielding him from the advancing bullets.

Zikael, meanwhile, had not budged. He was completely unafraid by the fiery barrage flying around him. After blocking a few rounds with his sword he charged forward, a dangerous glint in his eye.

He charged at the major, who stopped firing and used his gun-arm armour to block the gunblade's attack. Lieutenant Maddox finally got back to his feet and ran in to attack from behind, but Malthus was faster and blocked the lieutenant's blade with his own.

And so the confrontation continued. The two Blackwald soldiers together proved a formidable pair, giving back as much as they received. Though outnumbered two-to-one, their skill and experience gave them a distinct edge.

Then, something strange happened. As the two groups separated, pausing to catch their breath, a strong breeze started to blow. It grew stronger, whipping around them. Malthus looked around him, trying to find the source of the sudden wind.

A loud roar—the roar of the wind—came from above them. Malthus looked up. A tornado had formed, rising from behind the satellite dish. It twisted in midair and descended upon the Blackwald major. Major Renald looked up in alarm as he was surrounded by the strong, swirling wind.

"What the…!" he cried.

The wind grew stronger, and before Major Renald knew what was happening, he was lifted up off the ground. The wind carried him up, spinning him in its rapid current. He rose higher and higher before finally emerging from of the cyclone. He sailed over the students and slammed into the grid behind them. He rolled, once, and then stopped.

The tornado then moved and passed over Maddox. The lieutenant's eyes widened in fright as the wind settled over him. He felt its strong pull on his body and he too was lifted into the air. His sword was wrenched from his hand and went flying dangerously through the air. It was blown out of the cyclone and went tumbling over the edge of the grid, falling down towards the ocean below.

"Ahhhhhh!" Maddox cried, as he found himself also being thrown through the air. He landed heavily on the gridding alongside his commander. He hit his head hard and lost consciousness almost immediately, rolling to a stop close to the major.

The tornado was still swirling. It stayed there for a few more moments before it thinned and dissipated. Zikael stepped forward, looking at the spot where the two soldiers had been standing just moments before.

A piercing screech sounded overhead. Wulffast looked up. When he saw the source of that screech his eyes widened in alarm, his pupils widening.

"What the hell is it!"

Chapter Six: The beautifull Siren

At Wulffast's cry, Malthus and the others looked up. A dark shadow passed over them, originating from a large and burly creature that had just risen up from behind the satellite dish. Its appearance was so sudden that Selene cried out in alarm. The creature flew over them and began to descend, floating on large, leathery wings.

The monster was called Banewing. It was a great winged beast, so large it towered over Malthus and his companions. The monster lived inside the abandoned Tower and had done so for many years, though no one knew for sure where it had come from originally. The citizens of Arcton were aware of its existence, and that was why nobody came to the Tower anymore. No one dared to disturb the nest of the creature that had made the Tower its home. With stretched, leathery flesh, giant claws on equally giant hands, and a sharp stinger sticking out of a tough, rock-like tail, Banewing was a terrifying sight.

Its face was mostly hidden by an elongated attached to its lower jaw. The only parts of its face visible were its burrowing forehead and cold white eyes. These eyes bored into them, brimming with hunger and malice, as the monster descended and settled in front of them, hovering off the ground. Its wings beat steadily, sending a breeze across the Tower.

"What the hell is it!" shouted Wulffast again.

At first, no one responded. Then Zikael raised his blade and pointed it at the beast. "Who cares?" he said. "Just take it down!"

With that, Zikael charged at Banewing. The monster moved forward and swiped its massive hand across the platform. Zikael dodged past the claws and swung his sword. The tip scraped across the rock-like tail, cutting a long, thin gash. Banewing screeched in annoyance and moved in for another attack.

Wulffast watched as Zikael began to duck and dodge past Banewing's sweeping hands. "You're kidding…!" the fighter breathed. He looked at Malthus. The swordsman said nothing, but nodded his head silently. Behind him, Selene raised her nunchaku. Wulffast stared at them both, sighed, and ran over to join them. He couldn't deny it for long: he too wanted a chance at fighting this monster.

Malthus raised his sword and broke into a run, charging at the monster. He ran past Zikael and approached the monster. He swung his blade. The blade struck the monster's tail hard, and Malthus grunted as he felt the shock of the blow shoot up his arms. The tail's hard surface was tougher than he had expected, and the blade left barely more than a scrape.

Banewing looked down at him. It's cold, pupilless eyes fixed on his. Looking straight into those eyes, Malthus froze for a brief moment. But in that brief moment, when their eyes connected, the swordsman felt the strangest sensation. It was as though in that instant when their eyes met, a second set of eyes looked out and peered at him.

Banewing swept its long arm across the platform. Malthus broke their gaze and jumped back. He skidded to a stop and gazed up at the monster. Was the Banewing possessed? No… Monsters that were possessed emitted a different aura. This one was not possessed. So what was this feeling…?

He had little time to ponder this, for Banewing was once again on the move. The monster surged forward and swept its arms across the platform again. It hit Wulffast, who had run in from the side, and sent him flying back into Zikael. As the two struggled and threw heated words at each other Banewing turned from them and continued its advance on Malthus. The swordsman raised his sword, ready to attack.

The monster thrust out its hand with the intent to swipe Malthus off the platform. Before it could reach him, however, Selene ran in and swung her nunchaku. The Flail whipped around one of the monster's long claws and then snapped tight with a loud THWACK! The young woman pulled with all her might, preventing the arm from moving.

Banewing's eyes turned to her, its face angered. Selene ignored its gaze and placed her hand on the claw's rugged surface.

"Blizzard!" she shouted.

The air around her grew chill. Banewing stared in confusion as ice began to form underneath the girl's palm and spread out along its claw. Selene flicked her wrist and released her nunchaku as the ice began to spread rapidly. It moved along the claw and onto the monster's hand. Banewing screeched at the burning cold. The ice grew thicker and then spread onto the ground, closing around the gridded floor. The monster was trapped.

Banewing flapped its wings and attempted to pull back. The ice was continuing to grow and was spreading up its arm towards its left shoulder. The monster shrieked, panicked by its sudden entrapment, and tried to pull its arm out of the ice. However, the ice was thick and refused to shatter. The monster resorted to beating its free arm violently against the ice, but still it refused to break. The ice was strong, and Banewing could not break free.

Seeing his chance to strike, Wulffast ran forward and leaped onto the monster's arm. He dodged one of the frantic blows and charged up to the monster's face. Banewing was uglier up close: Wulffast could smell its foul breath on his face. He ignored the foul scent and drew back his fist. With all his might, he punched and delivered a crushing blow to the monster's jutting jaw.

There was a painful crack, as Wulffast's knuckles connected with the exterior jaw. The monster's head was thrown sideways and chunks of flesh, ripped from the bone by Wulffast's studded gloves, went flying through the air.

For a short moment Banewing froze, overcome by the sudden blow. Then, realising that its jaw had not broken, it snapped its head back around and glared fiercely at Wulffast. Raising its arm, it swept Wulffast off its shoulder in a single blow and sent the fighter hurtling towards the ground.

Malthus ran in to catch him. The fighter slammed into him, and the two men went tumbling backwards. Wulffast groaned as he climbed off, and shook his head. Malthus meanwhile rolled onto his front. He groped about for his sword, which he had dropped during their tumble.

"Hey! What's-your-names? Look out!"

At the sound of Selene's voice, Malthus and Wulffast looked up. Banewing was right behind them, its wings beating steadily to keep it in the air. Its tail was poised and ready, with the stinger pointing straight at them. Razor sharp and about the same length as a human arm, it was a deadly weapon.

Without warning, Banewing thrust its stinger forward. Malthus and Wulffast quickly rolled away from each other. The stinger hit the metal gridding with a dull clang. Wulffast rolled clear and climbed back onto his feet. He raised his fists, ready to fight back.

But Banewing was no longer paying any attention to Wulffast. The beast was advancing on Malthus, who was cornered against the edge of the platform. With no wall behind him, the only exit was straight down into the ocean below.

Banewing raised its stinger and thrust it out again. The swordsman quickly raised his blade. The stinger struck the blade's edge, swerving off-course just enough to send it slamming into the gridding by Malthus's feet. Banewing roared in annoyance. It raised its large, clawed hand, and sparks of electric energy began to flicker around its hand. Thunder magic. Malthus braced himself for the blow.

There was a flash, followed by a loud KER-CRACK! Malthus's body tensed up, preparing himself for the intense shock. Except it never came. Malthus opened his eyes and looked up at the figure now standing in front of him.

It was Zikael. At the instant the Thunder magic was released, Zikael had run in front of Malthus and raised his sword. Using it like an electric rod, he had absorbed the magical blast. Electric sparks danced over the blade and up Zikael's arm to his shoulder. The swordsman lowered his arm and circled it to loosen up his muscles.

"Get up!" Zikael snapped, grunting as he flexed his tightened muscles. He glanced over his shoulder, his eyes narrowing. "If you aren't going to make yourself useful," he added in a cold tone, "then get out of the way!"

Malthus glared back at him, and then pushed himself back onto his feet. Looking past Zikael, he saw that Wulffast and Selene were fighting together to drive Banewing back against the wall of the Tower. Wulffast punched and kicked, and when he pulled back Selene unleashed another round of Ice attacks. Banewing was more wary of her now, and made sure to dodge. Seeing that her ice attacks were being dodged, Selene switched tactics and began to use Fire magic instead. She was very gifted at magic.

Seeing Malthus back on his feet, Zikael smirked and ran off to rejoin the battle. Seeing that mocking smirk, Malthus felt his face burn. Quickly he swallowed to regain control of himself. What Zikael thought didn't matter. Still, a part of him couldn't help but feel angered…

Gripping his sword tightly, Malthus ran back into the battle. The monster was now backed up against the wall, driven back by Wulffast and Selene. It screeched angrily as its wings scraped against the wall. It swung its arms, narrowly missing Wulffast and Selene, who both jumped back. That was a mistake. Seeing them supposedly withdrawing, Banewing surged forward.

Suddenly it stopped. Its eyes widened. It hovered in the air, frozen, with its arms outstretched. In front of the beast was Zikael, his sword embedded in the monster's rocky tail. The swordsman twisted the blade and the hardened flesh cracked further. Banewing screeched, agonised. Blood poured out of the wound, thick and slow.

Zikael started to withdraw his blade, but then thrust it in again for a second brutal stab. Again Banewing screeched and threw its arms into the air. The monster started to bring its arms down to brush Zikael aside, but then stopped and shrieked for a third time as a second blade—Malthus's—sank into its tail from the side.

Malthus gritted his teeth as he pushed the blade further into the tail. The rocky casing that protected it was thick and difficult to cut through. Malthus put all his weight into the blade, forcing it deeper. Banewing started to writhe and the two swordsmen quickly withdrew their blades. They drew back. As they stepped back Selene started to go forward, but Zikael pushed her roughly backwards and charged at the monster.

He swung his sword. Banewing pulled away at the last minute and the sword sailed harmlessly past. Before Zikael could recover, the monster reached out a hand and closed its claws around the man's body.

"Zikael!" called Malthus.

"Squad B captain!" cried Selene, from the ground where she had fallen.

Wulffast helped her onto her feet. They watched helplessly as Banewing lifted Zikael off the ground. The swordsman kicked and struggled, trying to break free of its grip. The claws tightened, cutting into his jacket, and Zikael gasped. He pushed back against the claws that kept his arms pinned to his sides, but his efforts were fruitless. The claws tightened further, forcing Zikael's hands open. His blade fell from his grasp and clattered onto the ground.

Banewing lifted Zikael higher, over its head. With a roar the monster then hurled him at them, as easily as if he were a doll. Wulffast pulled Selene aside as Zikael came flying past and hit the ground where they had been standing. Malthus looked back at him. Zikael lay still for a moment, and then rolled onto his front, groaning. He was okay.

A screech turned Malthus's attention back to Banewing. The monster's long, jutting jaw lowered as its mouth opened wide. It began to suck in air, and Malthus watched as its ribcage expanded to almost twice its normal size. Just when he thought the monster could not possibly hold anymore, Banewing paused and then let it all back out again in a single, powerful gust.

The air hit them in full force. It formed into a whirlwind, and when it touched the ground the gridded platform shook violently. The three students braced themselves as the wind whipped around them, pulling and tugging at them. Malthus suddenly remembered the two Blackwald soldiers, blown away by the same whipping wind. The swordsman spread out his legs and held his sword out in front of him, trying to block the ferocious wind.

There was a loud cry behind him and Malthus turned. It was the girl, Selene. The wind had caught hold of her and sent her staggering back to the edge of the platform. She stood at the very edge, her arms flailing. Wulffast left his place and hurried over to her. He grabbed hold of her hand just as she started to fall back, pulling her to safety. The two then dropped down onto their knees, bracing themselves against the wind.

After a few more moments the wind dissipated, as Banewing finished expelling the excess air from its lungs. When it saw that Malthus and the others were still standing, the monster roared in rage. Clearly it had not expected them to be still standing after its most powerful assault.

Malthus glanced around him. Wulffast and Selene were still on the ground recovering from the windblast. He could not see Zikael from his current position. It was just him and Banewing. The monster was hovering hesitantly, pondering its next move. Malthus did not want to give it the chance to decide. He readied his blade, preparing to charge.

Then he paused. Once again, he felt something… strange, as he looked up at the monster. Malthus lowered his sword and gazed up at Banewing. He looked into its eyes. There it was again: that flicker of intelligence that did not come from Banewing, but from something else. What was it…?

Then the answer came to him, so suddenly that Malthus could almost have kicked himself. He realised it when he felt a flicker of energy shift within him, inside his soul. That flicker came from the Familiar spirits he had bonded with. The monster Banewing must also have a FS living inside of it, and was reacting to the battle.

Banewing seemed to have made up its mind, for it suddenly surged forward. Malthus ducked and rolled as the monster flew overhead. The moment it passed Malthus rose to his feet. He held his sword ready before him, his eyes narrowing in determination.

He wanted that Familiar Spirit.

Banewing turned back to face him. It had forgotten about Wulffast and Selene, who were more than happy to use the distraction to run away from the platform's edge. It focused all of its attention on Malthus, and started to advance once again.

The monster swung its arm. Malthus dodged the sweeping claws and then charged. He called out with his mind; calling out to the FS's he had within him to lend him their strength. Only one FS responded: the FS Ifrit.

The fiery FS's energy swept throughout his body like swift-moving storm. It surged through him, filling every part of him and bolstering his strength. His muscles burned and his blood felt like it was about to boil over. He felt Ifrit's presence with him, urging him onward.

Malthus stopped before the FS. He drew back his blade and, with Ifrit's added strength, thrust the blade up into the monster's chest.

The blade pierced Banewing's chest. It cut right through the tough flesh and sank deep. Bone cracked, and Banewing screeched in pain. At the end of its cry it breathed in, and Malthus could hear its breath rattling in its lungs. The monster screeched again. Its screech was hoarse and raspy, and flecks of blood appeared on its mouth. The monster flailed its arms, screeching in agony.

Malthus pulled out his sword. The red-hot fever that had overtaken him seconds before now faded, leaving him cool. Silently, he thanked the FS for his aid and then turned to face the writhing Banewing.

He placed his hand against the monster's tail. He took a deep breath. He let it out and closed his eyes. Reaching out with his mind, he called out to the Familiar Spirit living inside of Banewing. With the monster wounded, on the verge of death, he would draw out the FS and make it his own.

Come to me, he thought.

At the edge of his consciousness, he felt the FS's presence. Malthus beckoned to it, urging it to come forth. The FS responded and poured out of Banewing, abandoning its dying host. Malthus felt its spirit flow into him and merge with his own.

Only once the transference was complete did the FS finally reveal itself. In his mind's eye he saw a humanlike woman, tall and slender and with long, flowing hair the colour of gold. Two long wings protruded from her head, the same shade as her hair, their golden feathers rustling on their own. Her face was remarkably beautiful, smooth as marble, but it was her eyes that were the most amazing. They were bright green and hypnotising to look at. She held Malthus's gaze.

"I am Siren." Her voice was silent inside his mind. "You who defeated Banewing… My power is now yours. Use it well."

With that, the FS's image disappeared. The bond was complete, and Siren was now his. Malthus removed his hand from Banewing's tail. The monster was still writhing in pain, but it was not dead yet. Malthus raised his sword over his head, preparing to deliver the final blow.

Before he could strike, Banewing gave an agonised screech. Its body stiffened. The flesh of its stomach swelled and then split open. Malthus stared in amazement as the tip of a sword appeared through the slit. It was Zikael's sword. During the transference the swordsman had sneaked around behind the writhing monster and stabbed him, quite literally, in the back.

Malthus lowered his gunblade and stepped back. Zikael pulled out his sword and he too stepped back. The monster, floating between them, began to twitch and shudder. As they watched flames began to erupt from within it, bursting out in small explosions all over its body. The monster shrieked and roared as flames and smoke rose around it, tearing its body apart.

Banewing beat its wings, trying to put out the rapidly rising flames. It flew backwards until it passed over the edge of the platform. There its strength finally gave out and Banewing fell from the Tower. It plummeted, still ablaze, down towards the rocks and the ocean below. It landed with a splash in the churning seas. Then it was gone.

Silence returned to the Tower. It continued for long moments. Then Zikael pulled a cloth from his trouser pocket and began to clean the blood from his sword. As he cleaned he looked up at Malthus and flashed him a self-satisfied look. Malthus stared back at him. Clearly Zikael was pleased that he had delivered the final blow and not Malthus. Without saying a word, Malthus calmly sheathed his gunblade. The monster was defeated, and that was all that mattered. Zikael, amused by Malthus's apparent indifference, finished cleaning his sword and put the cloth away.

With Zikael in one place for the moment, Selene took her chance. She jumped over a gap in the gridding and walked up to him. "Squad B Captain?"

Zikael grunted and did not look at her. Selene tried again, raising her voice to ensure that he had heard her. "'Scuse me! I had new orders!"

At this Zikael sighed and turned to face her. Now that she finally had his attention, Selene cleared her throat and stood at attention. "All White wing members and White wing candidates are to withdraw at 1900 hours," she reported. "Assemble at the shore!"

"Withdraw!" Zikael shouted in protest. "There are still enemies around!"

"I know, but I'm just a messenger," said Selene.

"An order to withdraw takes priority," Malthus said. "I don't want to miss the vessel."

Again, Zikael sighed. He could not believe that the order to withdraw had been given already, when things were only just getting interesting. Still, as much as he hated to admit it, the order did take priority. He looked over at Selene. "What time d'you say?" he asked her.

"Like I said…! All White wing members and White wing candidates are to withdraw at 1900 hours. Assemble at the shore!"

Zikael glanced down at his watch. It was almost 18:30. "1900 hours… We only have 30 minutes!" He walked to the edge of the platform and pointed down at the shore with his sword. The beach was just visible beyond a rocky outcrop. There the White wing vessels waited for them. "You got 30 minutes to get down to the shore! Better run!"

'You'? Malthus raised an eyebrow. What did he mean by that?

Before he could ask, Zikael suddenly darted to the lift and punched the console. The lift started to go down, carrying Zikael with it.

"Heeey!" cried Selene. She ran to the edge and looked down. "Wait for us!"

But Zikael did not wait. Instead he leered up at them as the lift carried him down. Once again, he was leaving them behind. As he disappeared into the shadows, Wulffast folded his arms and frowned.

"Who the hell does he think he is!" he demanded, looking at Malthus.

"Why don't you ask him…" Malthus answered with a sigh. He turned away. "Let's go."

Selene nodded and stepped up to the edge, waiting for the lift. After a moment Wulffast joined her. His fists were still shaking, and his jaw was clenched tight.

Malthus turned from them and looked around. The two Blackwald soldiers, Major Renald and Lieutenant Maddox, were still lying unconscious on the ground. Malthus wondered if they should do something about them and about the satellite dish, which was still transmitting overhead. But dealing with the soldiers and deactivating the dish would take time, and they had already received the order to withdraw. Best to let the Arcton military deal with the rest, Malthus decided. They had to leave.

After a minute the lift came back up. Zikael at least had the consideration to send it back up to them. When it stopped the three students piled on. Wulffast punched the button and the lift started to descend, taking them back down.

Moments after the lift went down one of the two Blackwald soldiers came around. Major Renald groaned as he pushed himself back onto his knees. His head pounded. When he tried to stand his vision swam and he almost passed out again. The major dropped back onto his knees and pressed his hands against his helmet, moaning.

When the fog finally cleared, Major Renald looked up and glanced around the Tower. The Tower was still active, but there was no sign of the three students. The major cursed under his breath. How could he have allowed himself to be so easily defeated… and by a group of teenagers, no less. If he allowed them to escape, then his reputation as a Blackwald Major would surely be tarnished. For that alone he could not—would not—allow them to escape.

With that thought in mind, the major fought back against the overwhelming wooziness and began to crawl across the floor. He crawled, little by little, until he reached his handheld console. The console was lying by the main control panel, where he had dropped it. Fighting against his blurry vision and aching head, he reached out and picked it up.

"Those little twerps are the targets!" he grunted. He began to hit buttons on the console. It beeped, and Major Renald thrust his arm into the air. "Now GO!" he roared. "Go and DESTROY them!"

Another wave of dizziness overcame him. His vision went black. The panel slipped from his hands, which fell limp at his side. Major Renald slumped forward onto the ground and moved no more.

Somewhere, on the other side of the Tower, there was a loud, mechanical thud.

Chapter Seven: Escape out of Arcton

Malthus, Selene, and Wulffast came out of the tower. Suddenly they heard clanging. They looked up to see a giant shape climbing over the grating of the tower. Suddenly it jerked and jumped down onto the path. The three stepped back, but were not quick enough as it attacked.

Wulffast cast lightning on the robot and it shuddered a little. Malthus tried to attack it with his gunblade, but it glanced off on the side.

"It's weak against lightning!" Malthus said.

Wulffast cast lightning again and the robot collapsed. "Let's get the hell outta here!" he shouted. The three turned and ran as fast as they could. Suddenly, they heard the robot behind them again.

"I thought we took care of that thing," Malthus said. They kept running. They were almost past the bridge when the robot leapt in front of them. Malthus stepped back. The robot shout out its arms and scraped Selene across the abdomen.

"Cure," Malthus said. A green light covered Selene and her wound healed up.

"Time to end this madness," Wulffast said. He stepped forward and the magical aura surrounded him. He thrust out his hand. The familiar cloud gathered over the robot. Zinogre formed a dome of lightning and a huge bolt plummeted down onto the robot, frying it's wiring. Wulffast faded back in.

They could still hear whirring in the robot. "We should run," Wulffast said.

They turned and ran into the city. They were running down a street when the robot came after them again. They kept running. The robot smashed through some unfortunate person's car and kept on. The road curved ahead and they ran as fast as they could. They passed the pub again.

"Squad C withdraw!" Selene shouted and the cadets came running out. The robot was almost on them. It jumped onto the landing above the pub. Still they kept running.

They were almost at the beach. Suddenly, the robot slammed through a wall behind Malthus. He tried to run as fast as he could. He had to turn to reach the stair. Suddenly the robot slammed into him. The robots frame crashed through a wall and Malthus landed on the beach with ah thud. He climbed to his feet. The robot raised itself out of the sand and pursued Malthus. Suddenly, bullets ripped forward and started slamming into the robot. Malthus looked up to see Lucas at the Cruiser's machine gun. He gritted his teeth as he fired at the robot.

Malthus leapt into the back of the cruiser as the door closed. The last thing he saw before the doors shut completely was the bullet ridden machine exploding on the beach.

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