Author's note:

It begins in Nel's point of view, but only for a short while. Everything else will be in third person.

Please refer to my profile for a detailed description of this project. This story is an alternate take on the game's events and heavily concentrated on the happenings of Elicoor II and our three resident heroes. My aim is to develop the Elicoorians more via background story, as well as the country's politics. I'll be adding a personal spin to things, so some events may seem familiar to you, while others would not.

I'll be dabbling into the Fayt/Roger/Albel love triangle for this. If this happens to be your cup of tea or you're curious, I hope you'll give this story and my writing a chance. If not, I hope you can still stick around for the story and maybe - just maybe - I'll be able to change your minds.

WARNING: If you're against shotacon in general, please turn back. The main pairing will be Fayt/Roger, with other pairings to be included later.

If you're curious about the overall feel of this story, do check out "The Stars Told Me So" playlist available on my profile!

Disclaimer: Star Ocean: Till the End of Time and all of it's characters belong to Square Enix. If I did own it, Albel, Nel and Roger would be mandatory party members and Adray wouldn't even exist.


The Stars Told Me So

by Dark Interval

Chapter 1: Time to Grow Up


Our world has been ripped, torn apart by war: a meaningless massacre strewn throughout the continent of Gaitt. We were plunged into the dark underbellies of hardship, engulfing the souls and hearts of the guilty and innocent alike. For war you see, doesn't really give people much choice. Many said that this violent struggle could have been avoided if one party agreed to a treaty of peace and mutual concessions; many had argued that an outbreak of war was unavoidable between the continent's two strongest powers. However, opinions mattered not in this cruel conflict, in this raging pandemonium. People had to fight, a nation had to be divided; alliances crumbled and loved ones were separated, lost to the uglies of senseless violence.

This land had fallen to Greed.

Its people submitted to Pride.

The City of Aquios was located in the continent's northern region: the pride and joy, the capital of the Kingdom Aquaria, and home to Her Majesty, Romeria Zim Emurelle as well as the church of Apris. This kingdom served as the home for the largest, most advanced runological lab in the sovereignty, and housed the Great Temple of Apris - a sacred site for devout pilgrims. There, people lived peacefully, humble in worship and surrounded and protected by the land's beauty and prosperity.

Apart from this prosperous and holy land, high up in the snowy mountain fortress, stood the Royal City of Airyglyph. It was the center of governance for the Kingdom of Airyglyph, and home to His Majesty, Arzei Bohnleid. Also in this cold and frigid climate, resided great legendary beasts - Air Dragons, safely and warmly nestled within castle walls, breeding, breathing; waiting.

Airyglyph was ready for war.

Airyglyph was jealous and immensely frustrated by the unfairness of it all, driven on by an invisible entity called desperation. They wanted Aquaria lands, its prosperity, and its bountiful and ever-flowing wealth because its people were suffering. The rich became poor and the poor became even poorer; the satisfied grew hungry and the hungry starved. The cold was killing its populace gravely by huge numbers. So was the unfortunate situation which befell this wintry kingdom, escalating significantly in the preparation of war. Airyglyph demanded the holy lands, wanted, needed to feed its people, strived for total territorial dominance, but were strongly opposed by the Aquarians.

Aquaria claimed that Apris had blessed their lands and that this blessing, this privilege was beholden to no one but the almighty's followers alone. Their defiance however, only proved to make the already strained situation worse. Both parties couldn't see eye to eye. Calm reasoning reached its limits, fierce disagreements turned into international disputes, and disputes evolved into physical and intentional acts of violence between the two sides. Truce could no longer be reached.

Airyglyph readied their units: The Dragon Brigade led by Lord Vox, The Storm Brigade led by Count Woltar, and The Black Brigade led by the notorious Albel Nox; all of which were fearful and formidable opponents. In response to that, Aquaria dispatched their troops: The Aquaria Runological Unit led by Clair Lasband, The Aquaria Army, and The Secret Legion led by Nel Zelpher of the Crimson Blade.

After the events of the Aquor-Greeton war, it was truly unfortunate for this repeat in history. Gaitt's peace was threatened once more; yet another war was afoot. Our world had never been so bleak.

This was not the time for cowardice, not a single man retreats, least we suffer from the weight of an utter humiliating defeat. This was a turning point in our lives. This was where animosity took the place of gaiety blitheness. This was when we had to put the past behind us and learn to be strong. And this was when the youthful displays of imaginative heroism had to come to an end. We were fighting a real battle of survival, not re-enacting the life and times of Robin Hood and his band of merry men. It was time to put those wooden swords away and pick a better poison, a more reliable weapon.

Neville Zelpher, chief intelligence officer of Aquaria long past, was a great leader, a formidable combatant, and also my father. Killed in action, he passed this position down to me and somehow, I'll be lying if I said that I didn't expect the possibility of a similar fate.

The gravel beneath my feet shifted, my footsteps fell to a reluctant drag. The Lost City of Surferio was fast approaching and it pained me that this farewell had to take place. It was much too soon for my liking. Today would be our last adventure. Today would be their first passage into maturity and the reality of the world's cruelty. Today they will learn to be real men. Gone were the moments of heart-felt merriment; the days when I participated in their fantasies and watched them grow.

"Nel! Nel! Hey guys! Nel's here!"

I distinctively heard the jubilant cry of one of my fellow "heroes", unable to help the smile which graced my lips. He was soon followed by his gang of five. He scurried over as fast as his short legs could carry him, stumbling over, occasionally blinded by his helmet, which looked twice the size of his head. Apparently, he had still yet to grow into it. The young Menodix tripped and fell forward with an unceremonious "Oof!", only to rise quickly to grin up at me.

"Nel! Nel! Nel!"

By now, the young child was joined by his group of friends. I offered them all a warm smile, kneeling down to their eye level. They had all come and were as ready and eager as always: Lucien, Vellion, Dribe, Lezard, Melt, and Roger. I patted the youngest of the lot on the head.

"Hello, boys, ready for another exciting adventure?"

I hoped the little perk of my voice sounded convincing enough.

Choruses of "Yeah!" resounded from the little mischief-makers as they reached for their respective weapons. I watched them with regret, hating the prospect of war more and more. I couldn't bear to tell them the truth. I still wanted to continue my position as "Lieutenant Nel", a role these children had given me during our first "real man adventure". I still wanted to explore Lezard's potential in alchemy; wished to teach Melt so much more in the art of Runology; longed to continue coaching Lucien, Dribe and Vellion in the field of combat. But more than anything else, I pleaded with Apris to extend my time here just a little longer to aid Roger in getting his "healing" abilities right.

Sure, the kid was exceptionally proficient with the axe and his spells, but for some strange reason, there seemed to be rumours going around that the civilians would flee by the mere mention of the word "healing", especially when it was associated with the name "Roger S. Huxley". I would coax him to keep trying, but he would always grumble something along the lines of "healing" being a "girl's job" and "swords and stuff" were "for men only". I always found his subsequent blush comical when I had to unsheathe my daggers to prove my point.

As far as I was concerned, the art of healing required more skill and willpower than wielding the finest of weaponry. It honed focus, required absolute awareness, and strengthened the sight of the mind. Besides, not many humanoids possessed this natural ability. Neglecting such potential would be an immense waste. Granted, he wasn't good at it; but for an individual outside the fields of Runology to possess such ability... who knew what else Roger could pick up?

I patted said boy's head fondly and smirked. I loved them all from the bottom of my heart, but was there anything wrong in having a particular favorite?

"Aw, Nel! Quit it would ya?"

"You're a man; you can take it!"

They laughed as I smiled, but the more I smiled the more empty I felt on the inside, and I wondered if this was how a mother felt when she watches her children grow up and slowly begin to leave her. Or rather, she leaving them. And it dawned on me there and then: this would be the last time I would ever see these children again.


"So, what're we gonna do today, Lucien?" came the slow and ever hesitant drawl from the portly humanoid called Vellion, stubby fingers fidgeting every now and then in uncertainty.

The Fellpool in question crossed his arms in his typical all-superior fashion, a wide and cocky grin on his features. Lucien, the eldest of the group, turned to regard his eager companions save Roger, who pouted in displeasure. He huffed as Lucien began to give a long speech on the wonders of heroism, tales of valiant heroes who had slain countless of monsters, and a vivid elaboration on today's agenda. Soon, Lucien began distributing the roles of each member in their little party, leaving Roger, to the horror of all horrors, as nothing but a lookout.

Nel was always their second-in-command, that much had been established long ago due her astounding fighting grace and keen precision in executing attacks. However, something unsettled Roger, rattled him beyond compare. Ever since Lucien had turned the big 13, his attitude had never been more aggravating, never more intolerable, like a splinter lodged in one's foot. In addition, the others always went along so readily with his plans, including Melt and Lezard, the apparently "mature" ones. Then again, Lezard was Lucien's brother, so that probably explained things.

What did Lucien have that he didn't?

"And that's why we're gonna go ta the Passage from Parch ta Plenty ta see who's the bigger man - no offense, Nel." Lucien concluded as the Aquarian shrugged.

"The Passage from Parch to Plenty, you say? My, that is interesting, not to mention formidable," said Melt, mostly to himself as he contemplated the fascinating proposal.

Apparently he wasn't the only one who thought so.

"Heh, a test of endurance and courage you say?" Lezard hummed, pushing his large spectacles up the bridge of his nose. "Well then, I'm not stopping you. Of course, if you give me a few hours to prepare, I should have enough time to concoct a new batch of elixirs for the trip."

Melt nodded in agreement.

"Yes, yes, and this would also be an opportune moment for me to exercise my newly acquired skills –Nel smiled proudly- What say you, Dribe?"

"Are ya crazy?!" The little fox boy barked. "It's daaaaaaaaangerous!"

Apparently, Dribe's sudden exclamation seemed to have kick-started Vellion's more-often-than-not sluggish mind. The boy's eyes widened, echoing his friend's fear in sputters. Roger approached Dribe to give him a good smack at the back of his head.

"Grr, ya gutless wonder! Of course it's dangerous, all adventures' gotta be dangerous otherwise where would all the fun be?"

"But there are monsters in there and did I mention I haaaaaaaaate danger?!"

"Ya idiot! Don't go announcin' stuff like that! Where's yer manly pride?!"

"That's enough you two," Nel intervened, folding her arms.

"Roger, don't go forcing Dribe into something he's not comfortable with. That isn't exactly very 'manly' either, understand? I thought you would've understood everyone's feelings by now. You don't see Lucien criticizing another's short-comings, do you?"

In the background, said boy was grinning away, enjoying the sight of his rival being lectured by the older female. Lucien shook his head. When would Roger ever learn that the key principle of being a real man was to simply grow up?

"No, mam," Roger said softly, lowering his gaze to the ground. His ears drooped.

He never liked this kind of attention from Nel. Sure, he admired her greatly like everyone else, but he noticed that she had been constantly breathing down his neck these past few weeks, admonishing him for the slightest of mistakes and pushing him thoroughly on every mission. She treated him kindly, as fondly as any mother, but she seemed to be particularly over-protective of him, constantly fussing over him more than the others and it wasn't because he was the youngest. Somehow it unnerved him. It was almost as if she didn't trust him. But could that really be the reason, or was something else concealed beneath the serenity of her smiles?

Nel smiled and placed her hands on her hips, turning to look at Lucien who had been rather quiet throughout this whole exchange. As she looked him over, she couldn't help but feel a sense of pride overwhelm her. She took in his maturing, self-confident disposition - how had he grown!

Lucien turned to look at her, his characteristic smirk ever-present.

"Lieutenant Nel, the report."

"Ah yes," she saluted, resisting a chuckle.

"Agent Melt and Agent Lezard have left in preparation for the trip, stocking up on items and concocting new spells. Agent Vellion and Agent Dribe will be joining us on this journey with confident hearts, and Agent Ro-"

"Come on, Nel! Ya know I can be as good a captain as Lucien, maybe even better!" Roger interjected as he tugged at the end of the red head's skirt.

"Lemme be captain for this mission, please? And why does Lucien always get ta decide what we're gonna do, huh? I'm Sir Roger, this party's true and dashin' leader! Don't I get a say in anythin'?"

"You, leader? Don't make me laugh!" Lucien mocked, leering. "I'm twice the man you'd ever be, plus I'm older!"

"What?! What does that haf'ta do with being a real man, Lucien?!"

"Er, I don't know… probably the part where one grows up!"

"Why ya-!"

"Alright you two break it up!"

Nel immediately placed herself between the two rivals, forcing them apart before anything serious could occur. As the two struggled for dominance, the female sighed and shook her head tersely. Perhaps she had gotten more than she'd ever bargained for when associating with these vivacious juveniles.

"Honestly, I thought you had more self-control than that, Lucien. Anyway, we'll see you and the rest at the entrance of the Passage from Parch to Plenty…" She sighed and turned to face the younger boy.

"As for you Roger, may I speak with you alone? I have some imperative issues I'd like to discuss."

Wide amber met narrowed violet and Roger gulped audibly, not exactly fancying this sudden turn of events. A thousand and one questions fleeted through his befuddled brain, many of which were centered on the thought of possible trouble. The one thing he'd learnt from life was this: never evoke Nel's wrath, unless one wished to experience excruciating vengeance from said woman's blades of glory and justice.

"Y-Yes, mam," the young boy stuttered, padding obediently after the Crimson Blade spy, glaring over his shoulder once in a while at his rival.

Oh how he longed to wipe that cocky grin off Lucien's face once and for all. He'd show him. One day.


Upon arriving at the small patch of grass in the middle of the village, Nel sat herself comfortably underneath the shade of a tree, patting the spot next to her as she beckoned Roger over. He wasted no time in scurrying over, doing his best to appear at ease but failing miserably.

"A-Am I in trouble or summin? Ya seem pretty upset, Nel."

Nel regarded him with an unreadable expression, before reaching out to wrap an arm around the Menodix's shoulders. She rested her cheek against the surface of his helmet. Roger blushed from Nel's rather uncharacteristic behavior, not exactly comfortable with the close proximity but not disliking it either. He was about to question her actions, but was halted when he heard the female exhale a grave sigh.

"No Roger, I'm not mad. It's just…" She trailed off, not sure how to go about explaining the situation to him.

Roger squirmed slightly in her grip; something was definitely not right. A stagnant pause punctuated the still afternoon air, the only sounds being the rush of the brook and the chirping of crickets. Nel cleared her throat, deciding to address the matter from a different angle.

"Well, what makes you say that?"

"Nel, what's goin' on?" Roger began, regarding the Aquarian with a determined expression. "You've been behavin' real strange, since last week actually- it's not like ya ta be so…cold."

Nel chose to remain silent. Roger picked up from where he left off.

"Nel, ya kinda stopped laughin'. When we're usually on our adventures, you'd always laugh and tease us and stuff. Ya always looked so relaxed and happy, but… I noticed that ya stopped."

Roger paused to pick at a blade of grass. Bringing it up to his lips, he blew gently against it, producing the faintest of whistles, before lowering his hand. He sighed, heart heavy.

"Oh, ya smile and join in on our dares, but that's about it. Ya don't really seem so into it anymore and the guys and I… kinda feel that we're maybe… startin' ta bore you."

"Roger…"

Nel gazed down at the boy, guilt shooting through her veins. This wasn't it, wasn't her reason at all, not by a long shot. She only wished she could explain, relay to him the dire situation at hand, but was unwilling. She didn't want him involved, didn't want the boys involved, but she knew that keeping the truth from them had its consequences and more often than not, those consequences had their repercussions.

It seemed that Roger wasn't quite done with his comments, persisting on.

"And it's not just that! You've been breathin' down my neck. Whatever I do just doesn't seem ta be good enough, but whatever the others do –especially Lucien- is always better than whatever I can do! It's just that ya have so much faith and trust in Melt and the others, but not me- why?"

Nel gathered the small child in her arms, hugging him close as she thought over her words. She patted his back in a silent lull, debating before finally giving into the inevitable.

"Roger, I have to tell you something and… I can't guarantee that you'd like what you're about to hear."

Roger shifted in her arms.

"I'm sure you're well aware of the dispute between Airyglyph and Aquaria, as well as their strained relationship. The countless of discussions were all abandoned. This left us with little choice but to engage them on our own terms."

Roger blinked up at the red head in confusion. Did that mean…?

"Apparently, Airyglyph's been preparing their conquest over Aquaria for quite some time now, readying their fleet of men and beasts alike. Airyglyph's cavalry, the Storm Brigade, their heavy cavalry, the Black Brigade, and even the fearsome and ruthless Dragon Brigade… all units would be participating in this… international dispute."

"Ya mean… No, Nel, ya don't mean…" Roger trailed off, disbelieving, but upon the older woman's silence, knew that he had little choice but to believe.

Nel nodded gravely.

"Yes, that's what it means, exactly. With such strong militia threatening the peace of Aquarian borders, under the command of her majesty, Aquarian troops have been dispatched as well to see to this war's end, with our side emerging victorious of course. I was issued the task of being Aquaria's eyes and ears in Glyphian territory - her majesty's official spy."

"But that's risky!" Roger exclaimed, desperately trying to talk some sense into the hard-willed Aquarian.

"It's dangerous relayin' information back and forth between two regions! What if ya get caught? I'm pretty sure Airyglyph's terms are anythin' but lenient…"

In an instant, Roger was right up in her face. His brows furrowed and his long, bushy tail swished side to side in agitation.

"Nel, not ta sound pessimistic, but ya may never make it back…" Roger gasped when Nel nodded her head slowly in silent understanding.

"Ya can't be serious! Nel, ya can't just throw away yer life like that! It's suicide!"

"I'm not going to do that, Roger!" Nel shouted, surprising them both from her sudden outburst. "I'm not…"

She bit her lip, eyebrows narrowing as she clenched and unclenched her fists. She diverted her gaze away from the prying eyes of vivacious amber.

"Do you think I don't regret this war, the suffering that would undoubtedly follow? Would you rather we surrender to the enemy like lambs to a slaughter? I don't want to die as much as the next person, but it's not something I can ignore! I'm doing this for my people, her majesty, my subordinates, my friends, and especially for you children."

Every sentence Nel spoke carried with it distinct traces of mounting grief.

"All of you have a future to look forward to. Throwing my life away, that I may be doing, but throwing my life away for the cause of saving countless of others is in itself, something worth living for."

"But—" Roger cut in, but was silenced by a single finger upon his lips.

Nel smiled one of those mysterious smiles, the kind that spoke of volumes and endless compassion, which words itself couldn't express. She hushed Roger gently.

"As for the answer to your next question, it's simple enough: I love you. I want the best in you Roger, along with the rest of your friends. I push you, push you harder and beyond your current abilities, but that's because I can see so much potential within you. I'm less hard on Melt and Lezard since there's clearly nothing left for me to teach them. However, I've yet to see the true capability of your skills."

The young Menodix was about to refute such a claim, but she interrupted him. Nel tuttered, tilted Roger's helmet back, and gave his forehead a little poke.

"Your combat skills rival that of Lucien's, your decisive and out-going nature far surpasses that of any other, that I can assure you. But I'm still waiting. I want to see you truly grow, to mature into a real man… Roger, do you know what really makes a man, a real man?"

"Muscles and strength?"

"Try again."

When Roger shook his head, Nel leaned her back against the trunk of the tree, bringing Roger along with her. They sat there completely at ease, enjoying each other's presence. She began her explanation.

"A real man isn't judged by his skills in combat, experience, clothes, background, age, or even his physique. A real man is not just a figurehead, or someone who constantly orders others around. It's not the muscles or the constant need to prove oneself that makes one a real man, but the inner reality of your character, what you stand for."

"What I stand fer…?" Roger echoed, not entirely comprehending.

"Yes, what you stand for," Nel repeated. She held up her fingers as she began to list the qualities.

"A real man would be willing to put aside his goals for the sake of aiding those in need. A real man would always be true to his companions and to himself. A real man wouldn't run in the face of danger, but face it head on, despite the consequences that may follow."

She paused to look at him, a knowing smirk gracing her lovely lips. She fell to a whisper, tender even, as she etched her words straight into Roger's young heart.

"Not all battles can be won, but to conquer fear is in itself a battle already won. A real man is not considered weak to have feelings towards others. In fact, these feelings would only make him stronger because he has someone to protect, someone worth fighting for. This is what makes a man a real man… Do you understand now, Roger?"

Roger paused to allow his brain to process this newfound knowledge. Nel had passed on her wisdom to him, not the others, which made him feel sort of special. Her words made him realize Nel wouldn't be around to pick up after them anymore and like it or not, he admitted that there was some truth in Lucien's statement on 'growing up'.

But…

'A real man would always be true to his companions and to himself,' Nel had said, so changing now for the sake of it all would just be betraying his own moral upbringing. Besides, if Nel wanted him to change, she would have said so. She liked him just the way he was. He liked him just the way he was.

"Yeah, I do. Thanks, Nel, and… I'm really gonna miss ya, and so will the others."

"As I you, Roger, as I you…"

Nel released Roger and rose, dusting herself off. They regarded each other for a moment, before the usual mischievous grin returned to the young boy's face. Roger crossed his arms, nodding in the direction of the Passage from Parch to Plenty.

"We better hurry! The guys oughta be there by now!" He turned to Nel and grinned from ear to ear. "Ready fer one last mission?"

Nel chuckled and saluted in a playful fashion.

"Lieutenant Nel reporting for duty, sir!"

Bittersweet. Yeah, she could deal with that.


"Heh, took ya long enough," said Lucien, his hand upon the hilt of his sword.

The group of young humanoids turned to stare at the duo that was currently approaching the cave's entrance. Roger waved enthusiastically at his friends as he jogged over, being as loud and jubilant as ever, much to Lucien and Lezard's annoyance.

"Ah, Roger, it is nice to see that you have finally made it to partake in our latest challenge," Melt greeted his best friend, tone soothing and mysterious all the same. In his hands he gripped his choice weapon: a broomstick.

Roger returned the greeting as Lezard began distributing the elixirs around.

"Melt and I have managed to compound only a small amount of Fruity Potions in our given time frame, so I strongly advise you guys to use them wisely."

Lezard pushed up his glasses before handing Roger his axe, expression smug.

"I've also created a few Mythril Stones and synthesized them with your weapons. This should give them the desirable increased attacking factor."

Nel folded her arms, wholly impressed. Lezard had indeed come a long way, had really outdone himself this time. Thanking Lezard casually, Roger accepted his newly beefed up weapon with great zeal, before making a mad dash towards the depths of the cavern with a loud, "YAHOO!" Dribe sighed and shook his head in exasperation. His friend ought to do something about his impulsive behaviour. If Roger wasn't careful, that very enthusiasm could eventually lead to some undesirable outcomes in the future, that he was certain. It was never a good thing to throw caution and logical sense to the wind.

"Hey, Roger! Wait up!" he whined, charging after him along with the others, laughter echoing throughout the caverns.

As Nel watched the scene unfold before her eyes, she couldn't help but put in her two fols worth of laughter as well. This was yet another reason to end this war because by the love of Apris, she was going to do all it took to return home alive.


Upon entering the caverns, Nel split the party into two groups, commencing an entirely new challenge. This did nothing but leave the young boys tingling with excitement. She had termed it a "Real Man Contest" - a competition pitting individual strengths of each group against the other. The rules were simple enough: there would be two teams and each team would appoint a leader, which in this case was Lucien for his team consisting of Lezard and Vellion, and Roger for his team consisting of Melt and Dribe. The teams would be given a challenge and they were to complete the task within the given time frame. There was to be no foul play otherwise that team would be disqualified, and since it was a competition, the team that completed the given task first, wins. Nel had the role of being the two team's liaison, checking up on them once in a while to see if any required her assistance.

"Alright, boys, got the rules so far?"

The children nodded their heads vigorously.

"Right, here's the challenge - listen carefully because I won't repeat myself: Deep within the caverns lie the beast known as the 'Dark Hunter', a human-like bird creature of great majesty. This bird rests at the hour of sunset. You have until then to take a single tail feather and hand it to me. You may either wait until the bird is totally asleep or fight it head-on to obtain that feather. But remember: you are competing to win, which means that you have to be fast or your efforts would be meaningless."

Lucien snorted and eyed Roger from the corner of his eye. This was seriously too easy! He along with everyone knew exactly how impatient the young Menodix was, what with his spontaneity and inability to access the situation well enough before going in for the kill. To put it simply, Roger was the kind of guy who would follow his emotions before using his head. He on the other hand, had his brother and Vellion on his side – the thinkers - so he was pretty confident he could figure something out. He would not lose to Roger, sorry excuse of a man; and prove to everyone, especially Nel, that he, Lucien, was the better man.

"'That's all? Hah, mere child's play!" Lucien snorted, drawing his sword. Lezard snickered along with him.

"This should prove simple enough," said Lezard, all confident. "Everyone knows that the 'Dark Hunter' is a dangerous creature and definitely not to be trifled with. Going against it in battle would be suicide, so the best option is to of course knock it out when it's drowsy from fatigue, and then claim the tail feather."

He paused to smirk at the opposing team.

"Even Melt knows this, but with Roger as his captain and Dribe as a party member, they're doomed. Melt's too soft and would always hold Roger in high regard for reasons I fail to comprehend. It's safe to say that they'll follow his plan, which would consist of full-out assault. The probability of that is a good 93.78%."

Vellion watched his teammates criticize the others' shortcomings, twiddling his fingers. Somehow, he had a bad feeling about this whole competition. He was never the aggressive type; strong, yes, but he preferred engaging himself in intellectual pastimes than physical challenges like this. So, he wondered what exactly possessed him to agree to this in the first place. It was probably peer pressure.

"Aren't you going to make your move?" Nel questioned the three of them, indicating at Roger's team who had already proceeded deep within the cave. Vellion shrugged.

"I don't know… Lucien told us to wait here and see what happens, so… we wait."

"You're giving up?"

Lucien shook his head, smirking.

"Nah, just waitin' fer the right moment. We're not idiots and even ya know that we can't defeat even one of those Dark Hunters. Lezard had this cave checked out way before the start of this competition and we already know the location of those creatures, so all we have ta do is wait a little closer ta sunset. We've got this one in the bag!"

"And Roger?"

Lezard chuckled, haughty.

"Heh, that fool's probably thinking that if he gets to the feather first, he wins. But we're practical people - we do our best to avoid all possible hassle."

Nel diverted her gaze down the path in the direction Roger, Dribe and Melt left in and couldn't help but feel gravely concerned. She had to give Lucien's team some credit - they had certainly come prepared and knew exactly what to do. Lezard's evaluation of the situation and of Roger's character couldn't have been more accurate, and that was what worried her.


"Hey, Roger, are ya sure ya know where we're goin'?" Dribe called out in the darkness, his little ears twitching every now and then as he picked up the faintest traces of sound.

Being humanoids, their senses were hypersensitive, giving them an advantage over humans. The lack of light didn't bother them much, not unless you were a little fox humanoid with a whiny and cowardly nature, also known as Dribe. The poor boy was utterly terrified of the dark.

"R-Roger?!"

"Aw, shut up ya moron," came said boy's impatient drawl. "Real men aren't afraid of nuttin, 'specially not the dark! So quit bein' such a chicken and suck it in!"

Dribe pouted, glaring daggers at the back of Roger's head. Melt sighed and placed a hand on his friend's shoulder, squeezing it in assurance. He urged Dribe on.

"Dribe, Roger does have a point. If you continue to speak so loudly, you might just attract unwanted company. The guys and Nel aren't the only ones here, as I'm sure you're well aware of. Remember: our plan is to be as silent as possible, so we can sneak up on the beast and obtain the feather without any unnecessary disruptions."

Dribe groaned and slumped over, ears flattening against his skull in defeat.

"Yeah, yeah, I know… sorry."

The trio trudged on, fending off nocturnal species and dodging falling boulders, until they chanced upon a split road. There, they halted, pondering over their next move. Were they to go through the straight and narrow left, or the wide and winding right?

"So, what do ya think, Melt? Which way?" Roger asked as he turned to face his best friend, arms crossed behind his head in a casual stance.

The wise one pondered; he closed his eyes, meditating, foreseeing, sensing, and feeling. He opened them once more. With the aid of his broomstick, he indicated towards the right.

"Down the winding corridor of darkness lie treacherous obstacles ahead, paved with peril and smoothened with rough. Amidst the shadows, there dwells the sacred beast, guarded and safe out of harm's reach."

He pointed to the path on the left.

"Deep within the seemingly uneventful tunnel rests the creature of darkness and despair, blithe and ultimately unaware. If it is instant glory which you seek, then follow this path of the straight and narrow to reach its peak."

"Hmm…" Roger hummed, contemplating.

This was a difficult decision to make, not to mention wholly oxymoronic. Who'd ever heard of obtaining 'instant glory' from merely doing the right thing by going down the 'path of the straight and narrow'? Nothing could ever be 'instant' in this world, even if one did a thousand and one good deeds in their lifetime. In addition, Melt said 'seemingly uneventful' which meant that the journey ahead would probably be indistinct. Who knew what sorts of dangers lay ahead? At least the pathway on the right depicted a clearer picture.

Roger nodded his head, affirmative. It was decided.

"We're going ta the one on the right."

"WHAT?!"

All eyes turned to regard the startled Foxtail, brows quirked in a questionable fashion. Roger and Melt remained silent, awaiting the ever-familiar complaints from their cowardly companion. Dribe grasped the material of his shirt and toed the ground, his stance faltered.

"Are ya crazy?! Didn't ya hear what Melt said?! He said 'treacherous obstacles'… no, I'm not going. Ya two can handle this one by yourselves. I'm outta here!"

"Fer cryin' out loud, Dribe, where's yer sense of adventure?!" Roger cut in, making a grab for Dribe's shoulder, tugging the older boy back.

"Look, all we have ta do is get that feather and we're as good as gone. Melt said there'd be a few roughs ahead, but at least we know what ta expect right? If we go the other way, who knows what sorta things await us! Besides, we're real men and we have each other, so quit bein' a chicken!"

Roger punched Dribe playfully in the arm.

"Don't worry Dribe, I got yer back!"

Dribe couldn't help but smile at that. Up until this very moment, Roger hadn't given up on him and continued to urge him on, giving him a hundred and ten percent of his support. It never ceased to amaze him that the boy hadn't lost patience with him and just throw him aside. No, Roger wasn't like that at all. He never realized how fortunate it was for him to have such a loyal comrade.

"Oh, alright," he gave in, "But if I don't like it, we're leavin' ya hear?"

Melt smiled as Roger laughed and waved him off.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Now hurry up would ya? Ya guys are such slow pokes!"

With their weapons at ready, the party of three experienced no problems in challenging the cavern's deathly booby-traps of natural adversities. Apart from a few accomplished young mages who dwelled deep within the caverns, the rest of their adversaries had been mainly small fry. Rounds of spell casting, slaying, and trouncing, found the trio in the middle of the Dark Hunters' nesting grounds. Roger, Melt and Dribe stood rigid, daring not to so much as breathe within the stifling confines of this monster-inhibited territory.

Great tufts of dull-tinted feathers rose and fell as the creatures slept on, oblivious to the arrival of the three newcomers. Melt and Dribe wasted no time in shoving their leader forward, directly towards the biggest nest of this empire. It was undoubtedly alpha male quarters. Roger held back a startled cry as he whirled around to glare at his so-called friends. That only earned him wide grins and enthusiastic waves on their part.

"Fear not, Roger," whispered Melt.

"Yeah, we're right behind ya," added Dribe.

Roger pouted when he distinctively spied them backing away ever so discretely. He rolled his eyes and pushed forward.

'Thanks a lot ya guys,' he thought sarcastically.

Maneuvering his way through the sea of feathers, Roger ignored the lesser members of the clan and instead, set his sights on the slumbering ruler. Upon realizing what the younger male was up to, Melt's eyes widened. Immediately, he stepping forward.

"Roger, what in the world are you doing?!" he hissed. "Just pick the tail feather from one of those closer to the cave's exit. That way, it'll be easier for us to make a run for it if they awaken. Haven't we already discussed this?"

"Relax, Melt," Roger brushed him off, leaning over the nest's edge as he reached for the Dark Hunter's tail.

"I'll just pluck a feather and we'll be outta here before this dumb bird knows what hit him. Plus I wanna beat Lucien! This one's the king of the lot, so its feather's probably bigger and better than the rest!"

"R-Roger, maybe you shouldn't…"

"Watcha talking 'bout, Dribe? Of course I should! I'm not gonna let mister high-and-mighty win this one, not in a long shot!"

Roger plucked a feather and pocketed it, blissfully unaware of the shifting mass of feathers behind him.

'Hah! Take that, Lucien!' he thought smugly to himself.

"R-R-Roger?"

"What now, Dribe?"

"B-B-B-B-… B-B-B-Be-…"

Roger frowned, twitching his ears.

"Sorry, pal, but ya gotta speak louder than that. I can't hear a thing you're say-"

"Thunder Flare!"

Before the great beast could strike, static electricity crackled from the ends of Melt's broomstick, shooting forward to engulf its target. Roger gasped and leapt off his perch, getting into a fighting stance alongside Dribe, who already had his sword drawn. Melt raised his broomstick high above his head. Alluring blue spectrums of light danced around him as the winds picked up.

"Now, feast on roaring thunder!"

The Dark Hunter screeched in agony as wave after wave of electric pulses surged through its body. Soon, the spell wore off, dissipating and reducing the poor creature to a motionless mass of feathers; twitching muscles, ruptured bones.

"Thanks fer the back up, Melt," said Roger. "I owe ya one."

"No thanks needed, my friend," came Melt's hushed reply, as he panted slightly, regaining his strength. "However, that was the least of our worries. We best get going before-"

"Guys, I hate ta be a party-pooper, but I think we have a problem…"

Furious screeches pervaded the air. Nests rustled, wings and feathers beat, and piercing orbs of vermilion shot open as the entire tribe of vicious human-bird hybrids roused from their slumber. With an effortless beat of their wings, they took flight, circling the three foreign entities, disapproving. Roger, Dribe and Melt got into their defensive positions, back to back.

"Great going, Roger. Now ya gone and made them mad," Dribe hissed, glaring daggers at his leader.

"Shut up, Dribe! Now's not the time ta be pointing fingers. We can worry about faults later. Right now, we've gotta take care of these pests!"

"Right!"

Roger ghosted the tips of his fingers over his blade's edge.

"Fiery Axe," he whispered, feeling his skin prickle with the barest of heat. The blade of his axe began to glow an angry red with traces of hot stream emitting from it. He raised it above his head and cried out his attack, lunging forward.

"I'm gonna cut ya down!"

There was a loud explosion, sending shockwaves throughout the premises, loosening rocky structures and sending a small group of Dark Hunters crashing head first into the ground. Before they could recover from the attack, Dribe charged forward, plunging his sword deep into the ground, twisting it like a key.

"Earthly Ripple!"

The floor split open, the crack stretching, growing in length as the rocks and soil parted, leaving a gaping hellhole in its wake. The creatures shrieked, caught unaware and unable to retaliate as they plummeted into the seemingly endless pit-fall.

Enraged by the sight of their entourage getting slaughtered by numbers, the remaining monsters called for reinforcements, throwing their heads back and singing for all they were worth. More screeching followed after that, echoing, seemingly doubled. The winds in the cave picked up once more, twice as more powerful as dust and debris rose in clouds, temporarily blinding the young heroes. The boys coughed and gasped, rubbing at their eyes.

"This is bad, guys," spoke Roger, quickly accessing the situation.

They were out-numbered by about a hundred to three. No matter how they looked at it, the chances of them coming out of this battle unscathed were about close to zero. They didn't need luck in such hectic circumstances; they needed a miracle.

"Ya think?!" Dribe fended off an oncoming monster by striking it on its cranium. "Argh, it's no use! They just keep on comin'!"

"If you can hear this voice from the depths of the underworld, then come. Come forth and aid your master!" Melt thrust his broomstick outwards, eyes narrowed in concentration as he focused on his summons.

"I release you from your fiery prison! Rise, rise, rise! I summon you, Efreet!"

The flaming warrior materialized before their eyes, leaping into the air and bringing down its blade of fiery inferno onto its unsuspecting victims. Melt's attack managed to knock them out momentarily, but it was far from enough. With the party of three split up and currently preoccupied with defending their own territories, no one was left to accommodate for the position of defense. Melt's summon left him wide open for attack, and attack the enemy did, charging forward and smashing the young boy's skull hard against rocky, jagged walls.

"Gah!" Melt gasped, having the wind knocked out of him from the sudden and brutal assault. The amount of spell casting and summons finally took its toll on him and he slowly slid down the wall, unconscious.

"Melt!"

Distracted, Roger failed to sense the looming presence behind him until it was too late. Something clawed harshly at his back, ripping fabric and tender skin, the blood coming out in rivulets as it slowly began to stain the material of his deep green shirt. Another one of the monsters had managed to knock his axe out of his grasp, sending it flying towards the other end of the battleground. Soon, Roger found himself being shoved backwards, crying out as his wounds made contact with the uneven stone flooring beneath. Dribe had been pinned down and Dark Hunters were advancing on the unconscious Melt. In his current futile position, Roger did the only thing he was capable of - he screamed.


"Hey, did ya hear somethin'?"

"Hear what?"

Lucien's ears twitched once more, confirming his suspicions. His eyes widened. It couldn't be… that little brat couldn't be in danger, could he? He wouldn't permit himself to believe so, but there was no doubt that that pained cry came from none other than Roger. His hand travelled to the hilt of his sword. He had a bad feeling about this.

Lezard was growing impatient.

"Lucien, what in the world's up with you?"

"He's in trouble."

"I beg your pardon?"

Lucien ignored his brother and turned to face Nel, who only nodded in response. Soon, she was off, dashing towards the path Roger and his group took with Lucien following closely behind. Vellion and Lezard looked at each other, confused expressions on their features as they shrugged.

"L-Lezard, I don't like this… What's going on?"

Lezard frowned, eyes narrowing.

"It looks like we have little choice but to see for ourselves."

The duo took off and it didn't take them long to catch up to the others. Lezard turned to glare irritably at his brother.

"Lucien, you better tell me what's going on this instant or so help me, I'll-"

His words were cut off when they arrived at the battleground. The party of four gazed out in horrific silence as they took in the scene before them. The blood of humanoid children was splayed over the ground, dying the soil and rocky walls a shade of crimson bloom. In the far corner of the area crouched Dribe and Roger, shielding their fallen comrade from the entities that surrounded them. Melt was unconscious, Dribe was beyond exhausted, and Roger struggled to maintain consciousness but it wasn't easy. The blood that covered the land was his; the cuts he never bothered to conceal were his, and the crimson essence, which mingled with beads of perspiration, were his.

"Melt!" Lezard cried, throwing caution to the wind as he raced forward at the sight of his battered friend.

Trickles of red slowly made their way down the side of the wolf boy's face. Nel, Lucien and Vellion weren't far behind.

"Roger, what happened here?!" Nel demanded, watching with a hard expression on her face as Roger struggled to form a decent sentence.

"I-I-… that is- well-"

"Guys, we got company!" Lucien drew his blade and shouted over his shoulder. Nel immediately ran to his side and shoved him backwards, hard and resolute.

"Never mind, Roger, just forget it! And Lucien, now's not the time to play hero! You can't handle these things!"

No one said anything. Nel drew her daggers.

"Roger, heal Melt."

"But I-"

"For the love of Apris, Roger, just do it!"

Roger turned to stare at the motionless figure that was his best friend and grimaced. The sides of the boy's face were caked with blood and his breathing was growing shallower by the second. There wasn't much time. Roger raised his arm but did nothing more - no magical glow; no swirling lights and mysterious spectrums, only the mere action itself. Nothing. The poor boy just froze there, rigid as a board. Although he willed and screamed bloody murder for something, anything to happen, his body failed to process the given information, scared stiff from the sight of his friend dying before his very eyes.

"Roger!"

"What are ya waitin' for, Roger?!"

"Roger, snap out of it!"

"Roger!"

"Shove over, you pathetic numskull!"

Lezard pushed Roger aside, not caring if he had aggravated any one of said boy's appendages. Melt was in a critical stage and he wasn't going to let him die, not if he had a say in it! He dug into his robe pocket and fished out a thin vial of purple liquid, popped the cork and shoved its contents down Melt's throat, forcing him to swallow. It was a potion he had been trying to perfect for quite some time now. It was still in the works, but now wasn't the time to worry about possible setbacks. This was an emergency.

"Wha-what did ya give him, Lezard?" Dribe whispered, noticing the potion take effect.

The pained expression on Melt's face was now gone, replaced with that of peace and serenity.

"Verdurous Potion: it's supposed to have a 100% healing effect on its user, but since I've yet to perfect it, it only has a 40% healing effect. Nevertheless, it should be good enough."

"Will he be ok?" Vellion asked, fearing the worst.

Lezard lowered his gaze, brushing aside the deep chocolate bangs, which shielded Melt's eyes. He sighed heavily.

"I hope so, Vellion. I hope so…"

Roger couldn't bear the sight much longer and willed himself to look away. He bit his lip, drawing blood.

He felt so useless, so implausibly pathetic. Where had he been when Melt needed him most? Oh right, standing there like an idiot, watching him die slowly. It had been his chance to prove himself, to show Nel and the others the real man he was, prove to them that he was as capable as the others; but he was wrong. He proved nothing; he saw nothing, nothing in himself that was worth complimenting. He blew his chance, he forfeited that trust, and crushed his chances of ever being recognized as something more than a loud show-off, and possibly ruined his friendship with the first ever person who liked him for who he was.

Nel stood guard before the crouched children, getting into a defensive stance. The enemy was closing in. She had to deal with this problem before they all died here in this damned cave.

"Lucien!"

"Yes, mam!"

"You go on first and clear a path for the rest. Get Dribe to help you. Lezard and Vellion?"

"Right here, mam!"

"Take Melt and follow a little ways behind Lucien and Dribe. You best get Melt to a doctor quick! Roger, you bring up the rear."

"But-" His protest fell on deaf ears when Nel did nothing but lunge at the Dark Hunters, calling out her "Shock Wave" attack as she battled them with the grace and dexterity that would make any fighter jealous.

"That was an order, boy, not a suggestion!"

Nel's words stung, painfully. She had never called him 'boy' before, much less talked down to him, and that hurt more than any insults Lucien or Lezard could ever come up with. Nel had said she trusted him, saw more in him, believed in him, but in that split second of hesitation, Roger knew that he had thrown it all away. He knew no one could ever trust him now, depend on him anymore, and the fact that Nel was part of this cold circle only enforced deeper dejection in his heart. With a bow, he turned his back to his brave Lieutenant and did as he was instructed. He brought up the rear.


"How's he, Vellion?"

The stubbly boy shook his head slowly; his shoulders slumped over from fatigue.

"Not too good, Lucien… Melt's condition has pretty much stabilized, but he's not waking up. Lezard's still in there; says he'll be staying a little longer."

"Grr, this is all yer fault ya moron!" Lucien shouted and jabbed an accusing finger in Roger's general direction.

The youngest of the group said nothing, refusing to meet his rival in the eye. Lucien didn't have to rub it in. He was already well aware of the gravity of the situation and the fault that lay in him. However, no matter how hard he tried, or how long he waited, the tears never came. It was like he was unable to cry, to feel the slightest bit of remorse for his friend who had walked along the lines of death but an hour ago.

Although Roger said nothing against Lucien's accusation, Dribe wouldn't have it. The Foxtail jumped to his friend's aid, inserting himself between the two rivals.

"Lucien, give it a rest would ya? Quit lecturin' Roger! I'm sure he already feels bad as it is. Besides, he already said he's sorry, so let's just put this matter aside."

"What, do ya have rocks fer brains or something?!" Lucien shouted. "Ya saw what happened back there! That idiot just stood there when he had the ability ta actually help!"

"That's not fair, Lucien! Roger probably froze from shock! That's what usually happens when someone you care about gets hurt!" Dribe defended.

"Then what would ya make of my brother's actions?! Ya know how close those two are, but I don't see Lezard freezing from shock! What if Melt had been any one of us instead?!"

"But-"

Lucien held up his hand, not wishing to hear anymore.

"Look Dribe, if ya wish ta continue defendin' the idiot then be my guest, but leave me, Lezard and Vellion out of it! I have no idea what Melt feels, but if ya want to remain on Roger's side, then so be it, cuz the three of us don't want any part of this… friendship any longer."

Lucien's proclamation got Roger's attention. The young boy's head shot up to stare at him with wide, disbelieving eyes. Were his ears deceiving him?

"Wha-what…?" Roger whispered fearfully, confused. "Lucien… I thought we were friends."

"We were friends, but can I seriously trust someone who doesn't even trust himself? The point is, Roger, ya had the power ta save someone's life, but ya simply chose not ta. No form of excuse can change that!"

"Lucien…"

The older boy held up a hand to silence him.

"Look Roger, I'm gonna make this transparently clear ta ya: I won't forgive anyone who hurts my friends."

Roger felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes.

'But aren't I your friend too?' he thought to himself miserably.

He didn't even bother to hide his tears (which he was sure were falling freely down his cheeks), much less deny Lucien's words. His words had some truth in them, and he was beginning to see the outcome of Lucien's growth. Perhaps Lucien really was the better man.

"Goodbye, Roger."

With a final farewell, Lucien and Vellion brushed past him, retiring to their homes for the night, leaving Roger and Dribe to figure out where that left them. The boys' ears perked up when they picked out the sound of approaching footsteps. The sounds ceased and before them stood Nel, hands on her hips and expression unreadable. She met Roger's gaze with unwavering determination and Roger couldn't help but shrink from her stare.

Sensing the tense atmosphere, Dribe decided to leave the two alone to sort out whatever issues they had.

"Hey… Erm… I'm gonna go check on Melt so… see ya!" He made a break for Melt's house.

Once Dribe was out of earshot, Nel turned her back to Roger and spoke, her voice even and commanding.

"Follow me, Roger. We need to talk."

Not needing to be told twice, Roger shuffled obediently after her, eyes trained onto the ground, never so much as uttering a word.


Day had steadily crept into night. Stars painted across Elysian Field's canvas, its constellations mapping out the inevitable metamorphosis, the vicissitude of being. The sounds of daytime fell gravely still. Wherever the wind went, the coverlet of muted twilight followed, slowly slipping into night, spurred on by the gripping forces of the strange and unorthodox, an unseen and unidentifiable power manipulating the course of its chronological tide.

Something nudged at Roger's consciousness, nagged at him that he was due for dinner back home, but strangely found himself unable to abide to his stomach's request. Furious or not, today was Nel's last time in the village and possibly their lives, and he'd much like to spend his time accompanying her last few hours here. She meant at least that much to him.

When Nel led him back to the spot where they had conversed earlier in the afternoon, Roger wasn't in the least bit surprised. This spot was his favorite place in all Surferio, as well as Nel's. Once seated, Nel wasted no time in getting to her point.

"Roger, about what I said earlier… I apologize for my curtness."

"It's ok-"

"No, it's not," Nel interjected. She brought her knees up to her chest and sighed loudly.

"I was scared. I never meant for you children to get hurt, especially you, Roger."

"Me?" Roger exclaimed, stunned. "Isn't Melt the one who almost died?!"

"That's not what I meant, Roger, and you know it. You were affected by today's events, and unlike Melt's – she indicated the direction Lucien left in - your wounds won't be able to heal as easily."

She reached out to wipe away Roger's tears with tenderness akin to a mother's care.

"Am I right to say so, Roger?"

Roger fell silent. Really, what was he supposed to say? Nel had pretty much summarized his feelings up to this point already. She wasn't disappointed in him, nor did she approve of Lucien's treatment towards him, but her words did little to compensate for the despair that was slowly clouding his mind. Roger still felt guilty, doubted himself, and blamed himself for the cruelties of the day's happenings. Nel pursed her lips in apprehension and decided to approach things from a different angle.

"Roger, are you familiar with someone by the name of Albel Nox? You… remind me a lot of him."

"Albel Nox? Who's that, a friend of yours?" Roger asked with wide, innocent eyes.

Nel made a face and shook her head vehemently.

"Hardly. He's the captain of the Black Brigade, one of Airyglyph's three military branches and the best swordsman in the country. Renown for his cruelty and proficiency in one-on-one combat, he's also known as Albel the Wicked."

"And you're comparin' me ta him?!" Roger exclaimed, aghast. Nel held up her hands in defence.

"No, no, Roger, I didn't mean it like that at all!"

Nel chuckled as she inclined her head to gaze at the shimmering nighttime sky. One could see the stars more clearly in Surferio than in Aquaria.

"I think you'd understand better once you hear that man's story… would you care to?"

When Roger snuggled up closer against her, Nel took it as her cue to begin.

"Albel Nox is the son of Lord Glou Nox, one of Airyglyph military's late-leaders. He was greatly respected and definitely someone not to be trifled with, so it came to be quite a grievance when he died from a dragon's flame. It all began with the 'Accession of the Flame' ceremony, a procession to make partnership with a dragon, as per custom for their dragon knights."

"Unfortunately, failure held Albel in high regard that day - the dragon rejected him. Glou Nox had saved his son from death, but at the cost of his own life. As a result, Albel managed to survive, but his left arm was severely burnt. And look where he is now - Captain of the Black Brigade."

"Nel…?"

Nel smiled and patted Roger on the head. She could more or less sense his confusion.

"What I'm trying to say is, there will always be an event in a person's life that will make them stronger. Sometimes losing something important might just be the key to unlock that hidden potential. So there's no point sitting here and moping about the past. You should concentrate on what you can do here and now." Then an irritated look crossed her face. "Although he is the enemy..."

The two spared each other a glance, before bursting into tiny fits of laughter. Sometime passed and Nel spared a glance at Melt's house, before swiftly rising to her feet. She dusted her skirt off with Roger all the while watching her with concern, trepidation and outmost longing. He never considered himself as someone into politics or, but just this once, he cared about the war and prayed for Nel's safety and return. He wanted things to go back to the way they were, to believe that everything was going to be all right. He knew it was wishful thinking, but he could hope, couldn't he?

"Well, my time's up. I best be off," Nel interrupted his train of thought in her usual business-like tone. "Say goodbye to the guys for me."

Roger nodded, but just when the red haired was about to take her leave, he remembered something. Something he had been dying to say since he heard the dreadful news leave the red haired Aquarian's lips.

"Nel, wait!"

Said woman paused, her stride faltering.

"Y-ya must survive!" Roger shouted, his little glove-encased fists balled at his sides. "Ya must win this war! Ya...ya come home."

At the resolute tone of the boy's words, a sad smile graced the woman's lips.

"No promises."

What else could she say to a 12-year-old child without breaking his spirit?

However, if Nel had turned around instead of walking away, she would have seen the pathetic droop of the Menodix's ears and realize how much more she hurt Roger through the coldness of her empty words.


Roger knocked hesitantly on the door of Melt's house, scared and uncertain. He had no idea whether Melt knew about the events in the cave after he had lost consciousness, but considering that Lezard had stayed with him all this time, he wouldn't be surprised if that guy told him. Would Melt forgive him, defend his honor and remain his friend, if not his best friend? Or filter to Lucien's side, the side that would eventually continue to mock his existence?

Roger sighed. His head hurt from simply thinking too much.

"Come in," came Melt's quiet beckoning from within.

Roger sucked in a breath. It was now or never.

He grabbed the knob, bracing himself before pushing the wooden barrier open. A nervous smile spread across his lips. He refused to meet his friend in the eye.

"Hey Melt, how's it going?"

The wolf-boy smiled gratefully at Roger's concern and slowly sat up with the aid of said boy, of course. Roger supported Melt's back and used his other hand to fluff up the pillow against the headboard, before laying him carefully against it. He pulled the covers over Melt's stomach, making sure that the boy was comfortable before seating himself on the mattress as well. Melt smiled in thanks and Roger returned it, if not a tad bit shyly.

"Good," Melt replied. "Lezard's potion worked like a charm, although he told me to stay in bed for at least a day longer until I fully recuperate…"

When Melt realized that his friend wasn't listening, he stopped. Instead, Roger seemed to be incredibly fascinated with the fabric of his blanket, twisting and clutching the material every now and then. Melt frowned slightly, knowing the reason behind the Menodix's discomfort.

"I know all about the events which transpired within the cave, Roger."

Melt knew he hit home when he spied Roger stiffen visibly, before releasing his hold on the blanket. With a sigh, he reached into his pocket to pull out a bag of Palmira flowers and some thread. He began to thread the blossoms through, never once saying anything. Melt eyed his actions suspiciously. Palmira flowers? Was there something Roger desired? Melt simply let him be and continued.

"Lezard told me… and I wanted to tell you that I'm not mad."

Roger paused and regarded Melt with a look of incredulity.

'Is he sayin' that cuz he means it, or just ta be kind?' Roger thought to himself, not knowing what to believe now.

"And if you're thinking that I'm saying this just because it was the polite thing to do, then you're clearly a trillion light years away. I think I can understand how you feel, Roger. I know it's not exactly easy to bear the sight of a close friend struggling for survival-"

"That's not it!" Roger yelled all of a sudden, throwing the garland carelessly on the bed.

"I couldn't save ya! I couldn't even move! I didn't just let ya down, Melt, but the others too. Now, Lucien, Lezard and Vellion want nuttin more ta do with me thanks ta my blunder!" He slammed his fists on the mattress, sobbing bitterly.

"In a single day, I lost not just my pride, but my friends too! And worst still, I nearly lost ya, Melt! Thankfully, Dribe's still around, but the guys… I won't even blame ya if ya decide ta leave too. Melt, you're my best friend in the whole world, and I let ya down."

"Roger," Melt whispered gently. He handed Roger a handkerchief, watching as he blew into it.

"Like I said, I'm not mad at you, and because we're best friends, I don't plan on leaving your side anytime soon. Aren't you forgetting you were the first person who dared to strike up a conversation with me, despite how awkward I was?"

Roger smiled slightly from that memory. His enthusiasm on making friends almost startled the strange wolf-boy back then when they were younger.

"Furthermore, best friends don't expect anything from each other, apart from trust. You trusted me enough to befriend me, so shouldn't I trust your words too?"

Roger smiled behind the cover of the handkerchief, a new wave of tears brimming in his eyes. Melt understood, believed in him, trusted him, and that was all that mattered.

"Thanks Melt, you're the best."

Melt laughed, before indicating at the unfinished garland of flowers on his bedspread. His face was laced with inquisitive amusement.

"Care to enlighten me on what you're doing?"

"Oh, this?" Roger rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I'm tryin' my hand at making a Palmira Wishing Charm! Mama taught me. They say that if ya succeed in tyin' together a thousand flowers without breakin' the thread, the moon goddess Palmira would grant yer wish. I'm hoping for Nel's safe return…"

At the older boy's confused stare, Roger immediately divulged the secret of Nel's new role and mission, immensely relieved to get it off his chest and talk to someone about it. Of course, he trusted Melt with this secret. He believed his friend had enough foresight and maturity to comprehend the severity of such news. However, it still miffed him that the older boy could be so calm about it.

"Nel's a grown woman, Roger. I'm sure she can take care of herself."

Roger made a noise and stuck out his tongue. Childish, he knew, but this was Melt so what the heck.

"Oh, I know! But that doesn't change the fact that I wanna see her again. Why can't everyone just get along? Airyglyph and Aquaria have always lived with each other because they needed each other."

Roger crossed his arms and gave a loud, frustrated huff.

"Why can't those dumb-dumbs see that? What would it take ta make them see that?"

Roger pouted as Melt laughed. But his laughter soon faded when he noticed the younger one's despondent face. With gentle eyes that carried the wisdom of sages, he conveyed his empathy and placed a comforting hand on Roger's shoulder.

"You need not fret, my friend."

Roger sniffed and rubbed his nose.

"Oh yeah? And why's that?"

Melt turned to stare out the window, at the nighttime coverlet of darkness and shimmering stars. Roger followed his gaze and was momentarily astounded by the alluring majesty of heaven's crown, so much so that he almost failed to catch what his friend whispered in the quiet privacy of the room.

"… the stars say so."

"Huh?" Roger whispered.

Melt simply smiled his trademark mysterious smile.

"The stars," he repeated. "They speak. They tell of strange, marvelous things to come."

"Really?" Roger piped in, interested, tail swishing from side to side. "How so?"

"Wait and see Roger, wait and see…"

"And how do ya know all this, Melt?"

Melt's eyes twinkled, those intense golden irises swirling with wisdom.

"You can learn a great number of things from the stars, Roger. After all, the universe is a phenomenal entity. Who knows? Perhaps now is not the time to worry yet…"


Author's note:

Aaaannndddd... that's my attempt in showing how the Surferio group eventually split into two. Seriously, I'm in love with these kids and I really wanted to give them a more developed background story. Roger is one of my favorite characters and I wanted to dedicate something to him. There's not enough of this adorable Menodix online. Also, I included a little of Albel's background story too. He definitely fascinates me.

Some of you may be alarmed by Nel's caring nature. Don't worry; things will definitely change (or go back to normal if you're referring to the game) after this chapter. Just wanted to show a contrast between her character before and after the war. I figured her caring nature in the game (beneath that cool, aloof, no-nonsense attitude) must have stemmed from somewhere. Besides, war changes people. I figured her "normal" personality would be due to the hardened effects from the traumas of war.

If you like my story, please leave a review. I would love to hear what you think, and I'm always looking to improve!