Shadows of the Crystal, a final fantasy: crystal chronicles fanfic

Shadows of the Crystal

"...A horrible, horrible thing…"

We had been Tipa's Caravanners for quite some time now. We've battled many monsters, and gathered many artifacts. 2 people from each tribe composed our group, except we lacked a female Selkie. I was their leader, Frost, the male Selkie with the "Raccoon Tail" style hair. My jet-black hair was my main source of pride, but that's beside the point. Our constant victories had not only made us all confident, it had made us all cocky. Cockiness could kill someone out on the roads...which is what happened.

We were walking home, once again with a full chalice. The male Lilty was bragging about how well he had fought against the so-and-so monster when a horrible, horrible thing happened.

The crystal on the chalice......went out.

We were all stunned for a moment, staring at the now darkened crystal. The realization that we would soon die if we didn't reach the village soon sank in with the miasma. It felt horrible. The miasma suffocated me, scorching and at the same time freezing my body.

We broke out into a full run, our speed only fueled by adrenaline. We had abandoned our wagon/caravan in our desperate pell-mell charge towards Tipa. The Paopompus could survive up to a week in the miasma.

Many of us died, for sure, but the massive amounts of Phoenix Down we had built up kept us going. We were rounding River Belle Path when the Phoenix Down ran out. We pumped our legs faster than we thought possible when we knew we had ran out of fallbacks.

The Yukes were the first to go. With painful sighs, they left this world. I hefted one of them on my shoulder, and someone else carried the other. Somehow, I was able to carry a Clavat that fell later on, along with the Yuke. Soon we reached Tipa, and with relief we sank to our knees with exhaustion. My mind sank into darkness as people rushed on to the scene.

I woke up three days later-which was into my five days off from being a Caravanner before going back on the job-in my room. I was informed by the mayor soon later that the last survivor of my group had died from miasma poisoning that morning. I refused to tell him what happened, fearing having to remember the incident. The mayor then grimly handed me a mirror, and left. I nearly screamed. My lovely jet-black hair, prized amongst us Selkies, was now bleached white because of the miasma.

I threw the mirror at the wall angrily, and sobbed. So many lives were taken because of the crystal going out. I now had completely no idea what I was going to do. One was sure though, as I threw my artifacts, racket, armor, and most importantly, my diary into a trunk-

I was never to be a Crystal Caravanner ever again.

"...Little other choice…"

I tiptoed through the village, looking for my prey while trying not to be seen myself.

Suddenly, I saw him.

Hunched behind a bush, Root, a young Clavat, sat sucking on a stick of sugar. My silvery hair that was part of my Selkie Shark-Eyes style got into my eyes a lot as I prepared to pounce.

"RAAAAAARRAAARGH!!!!" Root jumped high into the air as I shouted my battle cry. We collapsed into peals of laughter.

"Ha!" I cried with triumph. "I found you! I win hide-and-seek…AGAIN!!!"

"Aw, Crow!" the seven-year old groaned. "You're seventeen! "

I grinned mischievously. "So?"

I caught a flash of bright white out of the corner of my eye, and I knew immediately who it was.

"Hey, Frost!" I tried to smile at him. However, all he did was grunt and walk away. He's been that way ever since the mysterious incident that had happened three days before. I mean, he used to be so fun to be around. But now he's so…dark. The worst part was, he refused to tell anyone just what the heck had actually happened. Even his father, the local blacksmith, couldn't force it out of him. He only said one thing for a whole three days, and that was to the mayor (Roland): "No force in this hope-forsaken land can make me go back out there into the miasma."

I could tell this worried the mayor. No one else was of age to go Crystal Caravanning (I had another year ahead of me, me being 17 right now). Without myrrh, the crystal would die and miasma would kill us all. Nobody wanted that, but without Frost, there seemed little other choice.

"So which one do you think is better, Crow?" asked my dad as he held out two large fish for me to judge.

"Ah…I'd have to say this one, dad. The coloration is more appealing," I said as I pointed to the one on the right.

"There's my girl!" He said proudly, ruffling my hair. "One day you'll be as good as your old dad when it comes to fishin'!"

Just then, Roland walked up to us, a serious look in his eyes. "How's trying to coax Frost out of his shell?" my dad asked. Roland shook his head and sighed. "He just gets worse and worse everyday. I would say he's throwing a tantrum if I didn't know that he had just passed through a traumatic event."

"What about his parents?" I butted in. "Surly as a blacksmith his dad can do something!" Seriously, Frost's dad was ripped. He could probably convince anyone to do anything with just a flex of his large muscles.

Roland's' eyes brightened as he smiled. "I know where you are going, Crow, but Frost has grown strong on his travels. His father said that if Frost wasn't acting like such a child, today would have been the proudest day in his life. Frost had pinned him down before he even realized what was happening!"

We laughed a spell. Then however, Roland asked my dad if he could speak with him privately, and the two men walked into my house. Of course, I went and eavesdropped.

I couldn't hear much, since my dad knew me enough to converse with Roland as far away from the door as possible. My father's voice grew more and more distressed as the conversation wore on, soon to the point of shouting. I could now hear distinct "NO!"s amongst Roland's calm, sad voice.

Later on, when my legs were beginning to cramp from being in the same position for so long, my dad heaved a sigh, and the two walked towards the door. I quickly got away from the door and flung myself on to the ground, and pretended that I had been staring up at the clouds the whole time.

My dad, with a strained look on his face, forced out, "Crow…we know you're too young to be a Crystal Caravanner…"

I suddenly knew where this was going, and both excitement and fear welled up inside me.

"You have been chosen to become part of Tipa's Crystal Caravan," Roland announced.

"...The art of being subtle…"

"YOU ARE GOING WHETHER YOU LIKE IT OR NOT!" my father bellowed as he forced me to the floor. However, I fought back and was able to trap one of his arms behind his back. My mom and younger brother watched nervously.

"I'M NOT GOING BACK OUT THERE!" My angry voice cut through my father's commands as I successfully pinned him down once again. After a few seconds of silence I relaxed my grip and backed away. We glared at each other coldly for a while before he sighed and looked away.

"Frost, you're almost a grown man now," my father attempted to reason. "You have to take a grown man's responsibilities."

It failed to work. Coldly, I responded, "I'm not going to be on the Caravan again, dad."

"But son...," he growled, his temper growing. I tensed, ready for another fight. I could hear my mom sob quietly.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door, which my father had to answer. I used it to escape to my room (which wasn't far away, but still). I could easily hear the forced cheeriness my father put into his voice when he shouted, "Crow! How nice it is to see you!" I could also hear the emphasis he put on Crow's name. I let out a snort. No one was going to get me to go out there.

"Hi, Musket," Crow said. I lay on my bed and fiddled with a piece of straw I had stuck into my mouth. She did have a pretty voice. "I was wondering...could you make me these things on the list?" In the short pause that followed my dad was probably reading a list Crow had given him.

"A simple racket is no problem...but along with these other basic items it make take me a while IF I'M GOING AT IT ALONE." I sighed. My dad had never learned the art of being subtle.

"Wait, let me guess," my dad said. "YOU'RE GOING TO BE A CRYSTAL CARAVANNER?" He wasn't fooling anyone. If he thought this was an incentive for me to join back up, he was wrong.

"Yep!" Crow said happily. Then, a little more hesitantly, "Um…do you know how to use a racket, Musket? Because Roland wants me to find a teacher and-"

"A TEACHER,YOU SAY? WELL I KNOW JUST THE PERSON!" I gritted my teeth in preparation for what I knew would come next.

"FROST!!! COME DOWN HERE AND TEACH CROW HOW TO USE A RACKET!!!""

I decided silence would be the best course of action. My dad bellowed some more but soon realized it would be of no use.

When it comes down to it, my mom's a whole lot smarter than my dad. To back my claim, she just then said, "Oh, Crow! I remember when you two were still little kids and how you two would play kiss-tag! I don't know if you know this or not, but Frost would slow down on purpose when you were 'it' so you could-"

I cursed having a smart mom and bounded down the stairs to save whatever pride I had left.

"I'm coming, dammit!" I snapped. I saw my parents smiling smugly and Crow blushing as red as she could blush. Her blush made her eyes seem all the more brilliant and-

I shook my head to clear the thoughts out of my mind and put on a more callous nature.

"Alright," I growled. "I'm here to teach."

"...Jewel-like eyes…"

"So," Frost began. "What do you know about fighting with a racket?" We were next to the river, where my house shared an area with Frost's. I was equipped with my new racket. Frost was fingering his new (also a basic-the weakest-) racket as he looked at me expectantly.

It seems that if the weapons, armor, and artifacts don't come in contact with their owner for a certain period of time, they become dull and basically useless. (Frost later admitted that they were actually pretty good paperweights.)

"Umm…," I muttered. "They can be used to…hit monsters…" The racket felt uncomfortable in my hands. Frost rolled his eyes and growled, "We have such a looooong ways to go…

"First off, we'll work with combos." Frost hefted his racket. He swung an impressive three-hit combo with the racket. "One-two-," he grunted as he swung two horizontal attacks. "-three!" he said as he pulled a vertical slice.

I tried to copy what he did, but wound up only looking like a clumsy idiot.

"Keep your elbows up!" he barked. "Quit looking at the ground! You're not trying to dig, you're trying to kill! And for thief's sake, QUIT HITTING LIKE A PANSY! You'll be dead before you get two hits in! Hit like-OOF!!!"

I was getting pretty annoyed with his orders so I finally just whacked him so hard it knocked him backwards. I felt pretty good about myself when, after a while, Frost didn't get up.

"Frost?" I started to panic when I saw his eyes closed, and no movement in his limbs. "Frost…are you okay?"

I was about to go and get help when suddenly-

"RROOOAAARRRGH!!!"

Frost leapt up at me and dragged me to the ground. I twisted and kicked, but Frost kept me tight in his grip.

"Never let your guard down," he murmured. His breath tickled my ear and I turned my head to yell why in Moogle's sake did he do that. However, I was stunned by how close his face was to mine, and at the clarity of his jewel-like eyes.

We stared at each other for who knows how long before I heard a door opening.

"Hey, how's the lesson going-"

Musket stopped mid-sentence, staring at the two of us on the ground. I could practically see the conclusions he was jumping to in his mind.

We separated and scrambled up.

"Dad, this isn't what you think it is…," Frost began. His face was as red as mine at that moment, which didn't help with our cause. "I was just teaching Crow that she should, ah, never drop her guard…yeah…"

"Yeah…," his father grumbled. "Okay…"

He left, leaving us to quickly say goodbye and run into our own homes, blushing all the way.

"...Said too much…"

My dad always had impeccable timing. Impeccable as in decided to show up at the perfect time in which you would be the most embarrassed, that is. The worst part is that he had a hyperactive imagination that would zoom off in a million directions given the slightest shock.

Later that night, he called me down from my room, which I reluctantly obliged. He was seated at the kitchen table, his face awkward.

"What?" I asked sourly. He could easily guess that I was still annoyed about his intrusion on to Crow's lesson and how many conclusions he had drawn in his mind.

"Frost...," he began, fidgeting with his gloves. "...I have to ah, have a talk with you. Two talks, in fact," he added quickly.

"Uh-huh," I grunted.

"Well...when a guy and a girl like each other a lot...," he forced out. I immediately knew where it was going. "They have to be very careful about-"

"DAD!" I snapped/roared, blushing furiously. "Crow and I aren't like that!!! Heck, we don't even like each other in that sense!" My father did a double take on this one, but I wasn't going to admit to anything that night.

My dad nodded and said, "But Frost, things could when you two travel together on the Caravan-"He froze, realizing he had said too much.

My anger level skyrocketed as I shouted, "WHAT?! Dad, you can't possibly mean to say that I have to go on that Caravan again! How many times do I have to tell you that-"

"Frost, this isn't an option!" he yelled back. "YOU HAVE TO DO IT FOR THE SAKE OF EVERYONE IN TIPA!!! ARE YOU GOING TO LET EVERYONE DIE JUST BECAUSE SOMETHING HAPPENED LAST TIME YOU WENT?! ARE YOU GOING TO LET ME, YOUR MOM, AND YOUR BROTHER DIE WHILE YOU HIDE IN YOUR CORNER?!"

His words cut deep, but I couldn't. Not after what had happened. I backed towards the door, shaking my head. "You won't understand what happened, dad." For some reason I felt like crying. "No one will understand! NO ONE!!!"I ran from the house, my dad shouting after me.

"Frost! FROST!!!"

I didn't listen as I raced out into the night. I definitely wasn't going to sleep in my house that night, so I decided to go down to the river.

When Crow and I were kids, we had found two trees a little upriver (but still basking in the radiance of Tipa's Crystal) where two trees were somehow uprooted. The roots had become entwined into each other over time and created a rather spacious area under which two people or so could fit. I headed there, then, to stay for the night.

I slid down the riverbank and half walked-half jogged up the bank. I could recall memories of when Crow and I would race up these banks to see who was the fastest, or how we would stick our heads underwater to see who could hold their breath the longest.

I had to chuckle at the memories, even though they were getting kind of foggy. The huge trees, smothered in mold, soon loomed into my view. I hoped that I could still fit as I crawled into the hole.

The surprising warmth of a crackling fire hit my face as I saw a furry puffball waddle towards me.

"Welcome, Kupo!" a moogle cried hospitably. "My name's Fluzz!" I blinked a few times before I realized that the place had been transformed into a moogle nest.

A lot can happen over time.

"...I'll find him…"

"Frost? Frost…FROST!!!"

The roar of his father jolted me from my pleasant sleep.

"Hnn…what's happening?" I asked my mom as I stumbled down the stairs, still half asleep. She looked rather relieved as she noticed me.

"I honestly don't know. Musket wanted to speak with you, though, and he's been yelling for Frost since dawn!"

My brother, Skipjack, grumbled a curse before saying, "You gotta admit, he's got a good pair of lungs. I wouldn't be surprised if he's not able to speak for the next week!"

I rolled my eyes and loped towards the door, mussing up my little sister's hair while I was on my way out. She yawned a jaw-cracking yawn before toddling over to my mom.

By then I was out the door and followed the bellowing voice until I came upon its source at the town square.

"What's wrong, Musket?" I asked. He turned my way. The deep shadows underneath his eyes betrayed his lack of sleep.

"Ah, it's Frost," he replied hoarsely. No surprise there. "He ran off when I told him he'd be going on the Crystal Caravan."

My heart sped up in shock. So I wouldn't be the only one! The pressure lifted a little off of my shoulders.

"I was thinking," Musket began. "If anyone could find him, it'd be you, and-"

"You want me to find him and try to persuade him to join the Caravan," I finished his sentence. Musket nodded weakly.

"Please," he grumbled. I knew it was hard for Frost's father to say that, being the proud man he was. "I…I don't want to fight with my son anymore." His eyes teared up a bit. "I really am proud of him, but…" He shook his head. "He's acting like a Mog-darned child!"

I nodded, and said, "Don't worry, I'll find him." I sped off, my hair flowing behind me.

If I had ever learned two things about Frost, they would be 1: Calling out his name when he didn't want to be found did jack-squat. 2: If he wants a sure-fire place to hide and spend the night, it would be in the tree hideout we had when we were kids.

I crept along the riverbank, and soon spotted the two massive trees, their roots weaving intricate patterns. I crawled in, and saw the funniest thing. Frost was lying on the now-a-Moogle's-nest floor asleep. His mouth was agape and he scratched his nose unknowingly. A little moogle sat in a nearby rocking chair, but jumped off of it as soon as I came in.

"Welcome, Kupo! I'm Fluzz!" he exclaimed.

The noise caused Frost to let out a loud snort and wake up.

"Huh…whuzzat?" he mumbled as he blearily rubbed his eyes.

"Wake up, sleepyhead!" I said, laughing. He smiled, but it quickly turned to an icy frown as he growled, "My father sent you, didn't he?"

I nodded.

"Alright," he grunted as he got up. "Let's get this talk over with."

"...A promise with myself…"

We walked along the riverbank, our sandals making crunching sounds as we walked on the pebbled shore.

"Before we start," I said, hefting a good-sized rock. "You know I'm determined not to go." It was going to be tough arguing with Crow; I dreaded it with a passion.

Crow nodded. "...But Frost...I really don't want to go at this alone..." She ducked her head so she could hide her face as she forced out the next sentence. "...To be honest...I'm scared."

I stopped, my arm poised to throw the rock into the river. Part of the reason we became friends is because both of us were proud (me more than her). I could have sworn-and still swear to this day-that she was part Lilty, since she was as brave as one. Admitting fear for her was like me shaving my head bald; neither was likely, and even in a life-or-death situation, there's a chance it still wouldn't happen. So for her to say that sent me into shock for a few seconds.

She started to blurt out her feelings in a rush, still not looking at me. "I mean, the whole pressure of everyone's lives you know of are at stake is seriously freaking me out. I don't want to be the person that lets the village down! I don't want to be like the caravan from Tida..."

She collapsed on to the shore, her hands covering her face. I could hear her faintly sobbing.

"Crow...," I said weakly. I hated it when she was like this, all small and vulnerable. "Crow..."

I hugged her comfortingly. We were friends enough where this wasn't awkward at all. She sobbed into my chest (and stained my shirt, but it was old, anyway) as I stared out into the river.

"I'll...I'll...I'll come along, okay?" I whispered. As much as I hated going back out there, a crying Crow was far worse than all the miasma in the world combined.

This brought on a new onslaught of crying for some reason, and I soon stopped talking since I realized that anything I said only made it worse. We sat on the riverbank for one or two hours, Crow's tears wounding me far more than any sword or monster could. During that time, I made a promise with myself to never let Crow cry like that ever again. And if she did, to seek out the source and destroy it in anyway I could.

Eventually, though, she stopped. There was no need to say anything. A quick, tight hug and we returned to our homes.

"Frost!" my dad cried. He instantly knew that I was going to join from my submissive attitude, and asked no further from the glare in my eye.

I later went upstairs to change my shirt and think about what happened. Also, to sleep my bed, since Fluzz's floor was a downright killer on my back.

"...To make amends…"

You monster! How can you call yourself a human?! I berated myself as I lay on my bed. To be honest, the fear and crying I had displayed were only used as a ploy to trick Frost into agreeing to be a Caravanner again.

It was the only way I could think of, since Frost had a will made of steel. The only crack was when I cried. I had discovered the talent when I was eight. He was playing keep-away with a stuffed rabbit I loved dearly.

It was fun until he accidentally dropped my rabbit in the deep part of the river. I had kept on hoping that something miraculous would happen to save it until it drifted off into the distance.

That was when Frost was first exposed to my tears. There was a two-year age difference, but he still caved almost immediately. I remember (even though it's turned kind of blotchy) repeating "It's not the same!" over and over again when he constantly promised to get me a new one.

...The day after that he got thoroughly beaten by his father in public. When I asked him what did he do to get such a thrashing, he replied, "I stole the Caravan's chalice to go and get your rabbit back out of the miasma." And then he handed it to me.

That was the sweetest thing he ever did for me and I would never forget it. It made tricking him all the more difficult because I had taken advantage of his weak spot. The tears after he said he would join were real, though, since they were from the guilt I felt.

In fact, I wasn't thinking of the sake of Tipa at all when I used the ruse. I was only thinking of myself and how I didn't want to go at it all alone.

I'm such a selfish thing! I yelled in my head. Selfish, selfish, SELFISH!!!

I noticed Frost looking at me curiously from his window and I was once again wracked with guilt.

A wan smiled was pasted on to my face as I waved at him bleakly. He frowned, worried. However, he knew when to leave me alone. I wallowed in my shame for a while before my father called me down to help him with repairing some nets.

I obliged, and sat near the river bank tying knots and fixing holes. Nearby I could see Frost hacking at buried metals in the steep bank with a pickaxe. Every now and then we would share a glance and smile. Frost now had a content expression on his face. He knew my troubled phase was over.

Secretly, I had made a vow to make up for my deception by any means possible. Frost was the best friend anyone could have. I had to make amends for my evil deed.

"...fSeek the Water of Life…"

I packed and then repacked my things over and over again, making sure that I was missing absolutely nothing. I flipped through my diary, the lack of exposure to its owner already causing the words to fade away. I sighed and packed that away. The five days were up and the departing ceremony was about to begin.

"FROST! C'MON! THE CEREMONY IS-"

I was out of the door before he even finished his sentence, my racket slung on my back. Secretly, I enjoyed the familiar feeling of it. What I didn't like was that my hair was the color of the bright, fluffy clouds that passed by lazily in the afternoon sky. Also, I was half-worried the chalice was going to go out all over again. Crow's face, all pale and still, was inconceivable to me.

I made it into the town square just as Roland appeared. Crow turned her head slightly with an excited smile on her face. It was impossible to stay in a dour mood with that smile, and I grinned back.

"Fellow Caravanners!" Roland began. All of Tipa's villagers were there to watch. "We have all lived our lives in the Crystal's embrace, but it does not come without a price. Every year, it must be purified by myrrh so that we may survive another year in this harsh miasma. The century-old tradition has now passed on to the shoulders of you, Crow and Frost, to embark out into the miasma, and seek the myrrh trees. You shall face dark perils, experience both joy and sorrow, and grow from your memories. With your knowledge, cleverness, and perseverance, you will soon return with a full chalice! As mayor of Tipa, I bless you on your journey. Now go forth, and seek the water of life!"

Everyone cheered as we nodded and accepted the chalice. We pulled a swift Selkie salute to our families (a sideways flick to the nose with your thumb) before I hopped on to the Caravan and took the reins. Crow sat in the back, the chalice stowed away safely in the Caravan.

I flicked the reins, and the Paopompus (affectionately dubbed Bob) padded onwards. Crow was silent, so I was left to stare at the sky. The brash statement I had made when I had awoken in Tipa days ago seemed like only a memory now, and a blurry one at that.

Words like those didn't matter in the grand scheme of life, as I was once again part of the Crystal Caravan.

"...Red turning to black…"

Admiring the scenery was nice, but the euphoria of being part of a Crystal Caravan dissipated sooner than I expected. We rode on in silence for a while, I being satisfied to stare at everything (I had never been outside of Tipa). After some time, though, I was starting to get fidgety. I shuffled around some, drummed my fingers, and muttered to myself.

Frost could probably hear the commotion I was making, since he soon said, "You can get off and walk along if you want."

This was a huge relief and I slid off eagerly, and raced to the front of the Caravan. Frost smiled warmly when I approached, but he was apprehensive, constantly glancing at the chalice.

I knew it was related to what had happened the last time he had returned home, so I didn't question him. Keeping pace was easy, something a bit slower than a power-walk easily worked.

"So what's our destination?" I asked.

Frost shrugged. "I guess the River Belle Path. It's a good place for new Caravanners to train, and the Myrrh Tree is in season, anyway."

I was going to respond when the strong voice of a Lilty cried, "Hail Caravan!" A group of Lilties appeared, and Frost stopped Bob.

"Sol Racht!" Frost exclaimed, leaping down and greeting the Lilty that hailed us.

"Frost! How are things?" Sol Racht said. He nodded towards me. "And who is this? We are the caravan of Alfitaria."

"I'm Crow, and we come from Tipa," I answered. A wise looking Moogle appeared and introduced himself as Stiltskin.

"How about I teach you some techniques?" he invited. Frost shrugged. "Go ahead, Crow. We never finished our lesson in Tipa, and this is better than learning on the fly. Besides, Stiltskin is pretty smart."

So I took him up on his offer, and we trained in the grass alongside the road while Sol Racht and Frost prattled on about whatever guys talk about.

Frost was right about Stiltskin being smart-I learned how to cast magic, focus attacks, and a couple other things, too.

After a hard day of training, we bid the other caravan goodbye and continued on our way. Soon we camped out under the stars, a nice, pleasant fire heating the simple meat soup Frost had made.

"Today was fun," I said happily. Frost nodded as he sniffed at the soup. "Yeah it doesn't get much better than this." We ate the soup with some friendly banter, and later a burping contest. (Frost won.)

Later, we unpacked our sleeping bags and drifted off to sleep.

It was Frost's birthday and Crow wanted to get him something nice, remembering her vow. She got him a little pink heart and wrapped it in pretty wrapping paper. It even had a little red bow on top.

At the party Crow couldn't wait for Frost to open her present. Everyone else faded away as she shrieked, "Open the present, open the present!"

Frost greedily opened it, but instead of a heart, horrible little bat creatures came out. Their filthy bodies flew at Frost, snapping at his face and tearing at his flesh. Frost screamed unnaturally high-pitched, his voice mixed with Crow's.

"Crow, why do you hate me?! WHY DO YOU HATE ME?!" Frost wailed, tears falling down his cheeks. Blood dripped from Frost's wounds, the blood flowing towards the frozen Crow. The blood collected into a puddle under her, the red turning to black. Crow couldn't move as she sank into the mire.

The bat creatures had disappeared, Frost now somehow fully healed. Crow looked at him for help, but instead he held a large knife, his face holding a malicious sneer. The knife plunged down towards her as Crow finally was able to let out a blood-curdling scream.

"...hysteria..."

"Crow! CROW!!!" My desperate shouts didn't seem to get me anywhere, so I resolved to shake Crow until she woke from her dream and stopped screaming. When I realized that didn't work, I was forced to open a keg of spring water and douse her with it.

She woke up gasping, but not screaming-which was a serious relief for me. "Are you okay?! What happened?!" I demanded. When I touched her shoulder, she immediately recoiled with what seemed like fear.

However, after a few seconds, she flew at me, hugging me tightly and frantically promising me "I would never do that, Frost! Never ever ever ever!!!"

I managed to wrest her arms away and demand, "Never do what?! Crow you're scaring the myrrh out of me and I've got a right mind to pull a U-turn back into Tipa!"

She calmed down a bit and sat back a little. I watched her warily as she collected herself. Then she smiled apologetically, supposedly embarrassed to have had me witness her fit of hysteria. "Sorry, Frost," she said. Her voice was hoarse, but I was relieved to hear the calmness in it. "I had a really bad dream, and..."

"That happens to beginners," I stated. "Something with the sudden exposure to the massive amounts of miasma, I think. Anyways, go back to sleep. We have a long day ahead of us."

She nodded, and returned to sleep.

However, I couldn't. There was something in her expression during that hysteria fit that frightened me to no end.

I couldn't sleep for the rest of the night.

I awoke to a canvas ceiling. The ground beneath me was moving. I pulled myself up, panicking. Then I recognized the inside of the caravan and relaxed. Crow was probably driving. I could relax after that hysteric night. Then my muscles tightened up again when I realized something:

I never taught Crow how to drive.

I flung myself out of the caravan and rolled on to the ground. Then it took me a few seconds to reach the front of the rambling vehicle. To my surprise and relief, everything was okay.

Crow was holding the reins like she had seen me do and Bob seemed fine. She smiled at me.

"Well look who's up," she said. I returned the grin.

"You're good at driving for a beginner," I said, keeping pace with Bob.

Crow made a face. "Yeah well you slept through the part where we flipped over." I gaped at her.

She glanced at me. Then...

We both burst out laughing.

"Y-You actually believed me!" Crow guffawed.

We walked along, completely forgetting about the previous night.

It was 10 in the morning before I actually started thinking. But when I did, it sort of shocked me that I hadn't thought about it before.

"Um…Frost?"

"Huh?" He turned his head towards me slowly, as if waking from a reverie.

"Uh…," I began. "…Where…Where's River Belle Path?"

Frost looked around absentmindedly. Then he lifted his arm and pointed towards something to my right. I turned my head and gasped.

An old, crumbly path weaved through lush green hills. The vibrant blue river chuckled loudly as various noises from hidden creatures were heard.

I couldn't help but stare. It was just so beautiful…

I pulled the reins and turned Bob towards the path…

"No! Crow, stop!" Frost cried. In alarm, I pulled at the reins again, but Bob had already taken a heavy step on to the dirt road.

There was a loud, crumbling sound as his foot went through the dry dirt. Bob reeled back in fright, grunting nervously.

"River Belle Path is an ancient road that's hardly ever used anymore," Frost explained. He pushed at Bob's head until the Paopompus was forced to back even further away. "The path here," Frost continued, "Is really crumbly and Bob's too heavy to get across."

Once Frost was satisfied with the distance between Bob and the path, he went into the wagon and took out the chalice.

"We go on foot from here," he said gruffly. He regarded the chalice with a look of anxiety and fear that I didn't understand. "Watch that you don't step over the line."

"Line?" I asked, as I looked around. Only then did I notice the large, faint outline of a circle, with the chalice at the center.

"Right now the crystal's element is fire, so the line's color is red," he said. "But we'll need to change it as we travel. The color may be different from time to time, but the same principles apply. Step over the line and you're in miasma, and if you stay there too long you'll die. Get back in as soon as possible." His voice was thick with importance.

I nodded, and swallowed. To think the difference between life and death was just a silly little line…

But then Frost began walking down the path with the chalice, and I ran after him.

Once again, I was stunned at the intense beauty of the path.

"Alright," Frost grunted underneath the weight of the chalice. "We'll take turns carrying this thing. When I get tired, you do it." Frost paused in his instruction to shift the heavy chalice's weight to his other arm. "Make sure to watch out for monsters, and never stop moving."