CHAPTER ONE

Slowly, the sun rose over the isolated desert palace of Damcyan. Sand of gold and white glowed subtly with the newborn sun's gentle caress, swallowed whole by the loving energy of the planet's lifeforce.

In the middle of this harmony sat the palace and it's castletown, surrounded by a sea of sand and beaten down by an unforgiving wind come noon. Within the castle walls, people hustled this way and that tending to daily business; patterning their lives after their environment, living hour to hour instead of week to week.

The town was new; a babe among the sands. People had moved in steadily, populating the area to the point of overflowing but rather well accomidated despite the cause and effect of life. Squat buildings sported small flags depicting the wares within; weapons, armor, and curative potions sold ot the highest bidder, as well as the usual inn or pub. Traffic was steady, crime was low, and peace was about the only thing worth commenting on.

Boring. All Edward could think of was the word boring. There he sat, on his throne of the deepest marble red, watching things progress as they had for the past five years. He was now 29, a perfect man and monarch; yet the life he'd grown into since the Crystal Wars was a tedious, muddled one. Edward had left the comfort of his palace once, only to return and witness the destruction caused by the Red Wings, led by Golbez; the death of his parents; the demise of his beloved, Anna.

Then there came Cecil.

A lone Dark Knight who arrived in want of help. He changed Edward's world, to be sure, but it seemed horridly temporary; after Leviathan attacked them, Edward was left behind. Toroia was a let down for the bard- king; he so wanted to get up and help, but was unable. It seemed to be the norm with Edward; always unable, incapable.

He sat, reclined, on his throne and watched. Servants piled goods and materials up in every corner. Mortar and marble were carried one direction and another before his eyes. He was told to sit, relax, and observe; the chamberlains advised that Edward was not to help, but support his people. He thought it rubbish; idle hands were the devil's work, after all.

So Edward rose and made his way outside. The restoration of the palace was a boring affair anyway; why waste energy watching it when he could do nothing about it? Edward walked briskly out the front gates, his guard watching him intently, with a bit of curiosity mixed in for good measure. The bard-king shot a look that said "stop me and you're headed for the dungeon," so needless to say the sentry stayed put.

Out the gates stood the newest addition to Damcyan palace; the castletown. It was a deeply charming place, the people grown friendly with the atmosphere of the native Damcyani as an influence. Edward was recognized in town, but not hounded; people waved cordially as he passed them by, allowing him the space his chamberlains didn't understand he needed. He made his way around easily, having taken the occasional vacation from the throne room before.

The cool breeze of midday wafted it's way down from the eastern mountains, leaving the desert in a swirl of sweet scents; hyacinth, jade, and mulberry mixed into a delightful arrangement. Edward thoroughly enjoyed the scents of the outdoors; probably because he'd never been outside much as a child. It seemed so much more novel to him at this age than most other people, it seemed, but it was still a welcome change. The palace could be so damned stuffy, especially with carpenters and engineers running about all day.

The sun was draped away by hanging tapestries over the doorways of nearly every building. People jutted in and out, business their sole concern. Edward watched with marked interest the many merchants and customers doing what they did best; swindle. He smiled in spite of himself, almost amused by the nature of these people. His people.

And then a sight caught his eye. A tavern sitting against one of the castletown's far walls, alive with activity even so early in the day. Edward ventured closer, his eyes glued to the front doorway and the people the building contained. They seemed a rowdy lot, but what else would one expect from a tavern crowd, really? Burly men swilled ale like it was pure water; barmaids rushed in every direction with more, enduring lecherous glances and more than rude comments. The barkeep watched it all happening, a strange expression on his face; disinterest mixed with honest concern.

Edward had to admit to himself at that very moment, he was amused and quite interested. This was a part of life he'd never quite encountered, and he was eager to do so. Although.the last time he drank ale he was very sick for a very long time. But who said he had to drink? He had his harp; was never without it, in fact. Perhaps these chaps would like to hear their monarch favor them with a song.

The bard-king strolled into the tavern as nonchalantly as he could manage while dodging drunken bodies. Immediately, the barkeep recognized the royal Damcyani crest, not to mention the cobalt blue eyes, long blonde hair (in a ponytail more often since the man grew up a bit), the stately robes, and the rougish smile. The big man hastily rifled through his collection of drinks for something befitting a king, to no avail.

"No trouble, good sir," Edward said, flashing that disarming smile at the man, who sunbsequently tensed up more. "I'm just in for a visit, really. The palace is such a boring place."

"R-right-o, sir," the barkeep stammered, his obvious Toroian accent shining through the bit of Damcyani he'd picked up. "So, what's yer pleasure, yer Highness? I.I see ya got yer harp there with ye, perhaps a song fer the people?"

Edward grinned boyishly, a lock of golden hair escaping it's ties to fall over one deep blue eye. "Why good man, that is exactly what I was thinking. Although," he said, looking around, "I don't think this place will be very receptive to a peaceful minstrel such as myself? Do you, man?"

The barkeep shrugged, unable to find a suitable answer. "Well Highness, all ye can do is try. Would ye like fer me to announce yer presence, or would ye like simply te begin playin'?"

In answer, Edward walked swiftly to the back of the room, his harp with him. The slight man took up the stool, sitting on a small wooden stage behind which were hung the heads of many ugly-looking animals. Edward wriggled on his seat a moment, attempting comfort, and took up his harp to play.

The noise was deafening, but he strummed innocently at the strings, creating a delicate melody which saturated the air of the tiny tavern. People stopped, mid-sentence, and watched their king do what he loved; make music. It was argued that no other musician on the Blue Planet could match Edward von Muir's skill, and the people of Damcyan were adamant towards this claim. It was proven, many times over, in the fact that Edward's harp had just tamed a room full of drunken men.

And then he began to sing.

Fie, lady, fie, I bid thee adieu

My wandering heart is a'calling

And should we again take to fancy as this

My wandering heart will be falling.

A cage, gilded gold, and a key round yon neck

I wish to fore'er be imprisoned

But this heart is free and longing to be

What my vagabond soul hath envisioned.

So fie, lady fie, I shall see thee again

When the oceans doth bring me to rest here

And if thou dost say other men danced thy way

I will be content to meet death here.

Fie, lady fie.I bid thee goodbye.

Fie, lady, fie.fare thee well.

Edward held the last note, a high one, perfectly for as long as he could, then let it drop gently into the air on tiny gossamer wings. He'd only realized when he'd finished that the song he'd just sung was one he'd written for Anna long ago.

Nontheless, the memory served Edward well. He smiled as he glanced over the crowd; men and women sitting perfectly still- save the ones swaying- watching their king. Edward, he told himself, you've made them happy. Look, they're smiling.

You've made yourself rather happy as well.

He rose, bowing deeply before stepping off the stage, and was actually met with applause. The people of the tavern were enthusiastic, their grins growing wider. Edward walked back to the bar, a swagger in his step, and rested an arm on the hard oak.

"How was I?" he asked the barkeep who was grinning like a little boy.

"Aw yer Majesty, ya make yer kingdom proud ya do!"

He blushed at that remark. "No, it's simply something I like to do is all. I am glad, though, that everyone liked it. I thought against it; seemed like everyone was going to rip my lungs out had I the gaul to sing one note."

"Never!" the big man replied, his brown eyes shining. "We love ta hear ya sing, yer Majesty. You should know it, what with all the requests ya get from people on the street. What say ye to that?"

"I say." he struggled for the words, a bit embarassed. "I say, then, that I belive you, man."

The barkeep burst out in racous laughter, his belly jiggling a bit from the effort. Edward watched, well aware that his smile was widening. This is all too flattering, he thought.

Then someone walked in who caught the bard-king's eye.

A girl, not more than twenty, stepped confidently into the tavern. She wore the clothes of a Warmage, that lost profession none dared attempt to master anymore. Her face was thin but healthy, skin glowing in the light of the oil lamps scattered about. Grey-brown eyes scanned her surroundings, deep brown hair falling occasionally to cover one. She wore a pair of mythril greaves on her legs which clanked slightly as she walked. A single mythril gauntlet, reaching the elbow, was worn on her right arm. She carried a whip at her side.

Edward looked again to the barkeep. "Might you know who that is, man? She looks a bit young to be in a place such as this, what say?"

The big man nodded, a bit solemnly. "Yeah. That's Kalahn Brandt, an.interesting girl. She's young, I'll say, but I'd bet she could take any man in here over her knee. Likesay she has a few times, and as such ain't no one wanna get in her way, aye."

"How long has she been here? In Damcyan?" Edward asked, glancing back at her again. She was approaching the bar.

Shrugging, the barkeep made a noise. "I'd say about.a week to a fortnight, milord. She was in Baron, an' somethin' happened ta get her booted out, but she won't say what, aye. Perhaps, if yer brave enough ta talk to her ya couild get it outta the lass. Although.yer a king, and I'd hate ta see ya taken over a little girl's knee."

Baron. Might have something to do with Cecil, Edward thought. Haven't seen Cecil in a long time.

He waited for the girl to reach the bar, eyeing the big man behind it. She did, and asked for a glass of desert rain; a very noxious and powerful drink. Edward had only seen one man chug that drink down.

Cid was holed up in the lavatory for weeks.

She looked sidelong at Edward, appraising him without really letting on. He knew, though, and did the like to her, sort of a way to shake her up.

In response, she whirled on him. "What're YOU looking at, my good fellow?!"

Edward almost laughed, but held it in. "Why, I should say if you don't know that.ahem. Anyway, I was looking at you, madam. You were doing the same thing to me, so why are you being defensive?"

In response she held up her gloved hand. "I can look at whoever I want, because of this. Do you have any magic to speak of? If so, would you like me to show you mine's better?"

She laughed, and as she did Edward unpinned the Damcyan royal crest from his tunic. It was a beautiful crest; a yellow rose with dusted diamond glittering seductively all about the petals. A sliver of emerald was set into the rose's heart, a faint sparkle.

Kalahn stared at the crest, her jaw agape. "You are.the KING of Damcyan?!"

"Yes," Edward replied. "This is my magic, miss. Which is better now?" He knew he was playing on her bad side, but it was fun as all hell.

Instead of rushing him like Edward thought she would, Kalahn grabbed at his tunic, a desperate look on her face.

"You're the king! The bloody king!!! Bahamut's whiskers, you have to help me!"

A second later, she realized what she was doing. Blanching, Kalahn released the bard-king, her eyes dropping to her lap.

"You have to help me," she repeated softly into her chest. Edward stared for a moment, in awe. How could such a tough girl soften so easily.?

He lifted her chin with a finger, smiling gently at her. "Kalahn. I will help you if it is within my power to do so. However, you must tell me why you need help."

The barkeep simply took it all in, an amazed expression directed at the girl sitting before him.

Kalahn was near to tears now, her chest rising and falling rapidly. She looked earnestly at Edward, her face ashen. He simply waited for an explanation, his smile unfaltering despite the concern he was feeling.

And she began.

"Well my friend Risca and I were in Baron on business. Don't ask. Well.this really scary guy in blue armor found us out, and we were being chased all through town! But.but something happened. Risca ran offt, and I had to go back and find him. We'd ducked into the old waterway on the edge of town.

"Well I went in after Risca, and.I saw something.and.The guy in armor followed us in there. He slapped restraints on Risca without even looking for any blood!"

Kalahn stopped herself then, her eyes wide.

"No worries, dear," Edward assured. "I believe you. You'd never be this upset if it were a lie, right? Now please.continue."

She nodded, sobbing slightly.

"Well the guy in armor.he tried to get me too, but I blasted him with a spell I swore I would never use. I mean he must be pretty busted up right now. But.but Risca's in the dungeon right now! And I have to save him.I need help. I need all the help I can get!"

Kalahn stared down to her lap again, feeling ashamed most likely for telling such a ludicrous story. Immediately, Edward was there, bringing her face up again to meet his, a comforting smile painted on his porcelain skin.

"I shall help you, Kalahn. I will commission an airship today and we will be in Baron by nightfall. Heh, I suppose you're my saving grace. I was very bored until a few moments ago."

He rose, bringing the cowl of his cloak over his head. Kalahn rose as well, uncertain.

"This wil help detract attention, of course. Can't have everyone asking for a song when we have urgent business, can we?"

That gentle smile was disarming; Kalahn nodded and headed out the door first. Edward stopped, turned to the barkeep, and brought a hand down onto the oak surface.

He looked to the big man, eyes sparkling with mischief. "I will trust that no one hears of this, my good man. You've shown yourself to be a reliable gentleman, and I hope I am not wrong in this assumption."

He picked up and left, following Kalahn closely back to the palace. The barkeep stared after a while, marveling at the man who was his king.then glanced to where Edward's hand had only moments ago rested.

There sat over one hundred fifty gold pieces.

He stared at them a moment, making sure they weren't some mirage or a cruel spell. Then, glancing about with a wicked grin, the big man scooped them up and pocketed them, feeling the weight in his apron and giggling insanely. The king would have to stop in more often, he thought. Might be able to afford that hovercraft after all.

Kalahn walked swiftly, Edward close behind. The bard-king could barely keep up at times, but he didn't mind much; this girl was in a hurry and quite distraught so he understood.

They weaved in and out of the many pockets of people gathered in Damcyan's streets; it was after one and the majority of laborers and merchants were taking breaks from the tiring affairs of market life. Edward pinned the royal crest back on his tunic, but pulled his dark crimson cloak over it so as not to arouse suspicion should he get too close to anyone. The young girl was making good time, dodging people and larger obstacles with great ease. Edward would at first glance think her a thief or ninja, but he knew better.

She was a Warmage, one of the very few left on the planet these days. Edward remembered his mother, Larissa, telling him stories of how Warmages held a tight leash on their powers, which by happenstance were of both light and dark. How a Warmage was only able to release their powers when faced with a considerable emotional or physical strain. That much, Edward knew of the people. He didn't know, though, how or why the Order of Warmages died out. Nor did he know exactly how Kalahn would discover the means to ascend to such power.

But he didn't ask such questions.

Just then a strange similarity blindsided Edward. He remembered someone else coming to him, asking for his help, saying that he was needed.

Cecil. Edward remembered Cecil. Gods, after five years it was still as clear as if it were yesterday. This was no different, save the identity of the one pleading for help. Kalahn seemed a lot more independent than Cecil did, though. The then Dark Knight wasn't very sure of himself; a bit clumsy in the emotional sense, and not very secure. Kalahn held herself with pride and even a bit of arrogance; she was confident and stalwart. More like Cecil after receiving the holy sword on Mount Ordeals.

This is too much, Edward thought to himself, still following the girl to his home, the palace. It seems just when my life was turned upside-down I met Cecil and found the courage I needed. Now, it's like I actually get a chance to exercise that courage. Finally.

At the front gates, two soldiers barred entry; one a small, thin man and the other rather chubby, though the same size. They both stared at Kalahn with marked contempt in their eyes, their pikes raised over the handle of the large iron gate leading into the palace. Kalahn stared at Edward; a rather childish pout registered on her face.

"Make them move," she said, matter-of-factly. Edward grinned in spite of himself, still catching up a bit. He removed his cowl, stopping just a few feet from the guards, and smiled even wider when they had to do a double take.

"M-master Edward!" the skinny one said. "We had no idea it was you! Please forgive our transgression!"

The pikes fell lax, and Edward deliberately snickered. "She is with me," he said, pointing at Kalahn. "I wish for her to have free reign of the palace until her business is completed, alright?"

Both sentries nodded; the chubby one opened the gate for Edward and his companion. He sauntered in, his hair tossed by a vagrant wind, and glanced back at Kalahn. She was blushing.

"You didn't have to tell them that, sire," she offered, her voice so small compared to the brovado she put on in the tavern.

Edward shook his head. "Nonsense. You are a guest of the kingdom, Kalahn. Besides, we'll be gone by tonight, so it's simply a formality."

He walked more swiftly now, sure-footed and confident behind the walls of his ancestral home. Kalahn followed, taking in all the sights of the palace; feeling a bit in awe of the place from what Edward saw out the corner of his eye. He smiled in spite of himself at that, and found himself wondering where Kalahn might have come from. What family she had; what past. It seemed a simple question to ask, but the bard-king knew better after meeting people like Cecil and Rydia. One's past could very well be the only fear they hold; the only thing which could swallow a person whole and leave no trace that they ever existed. Best to leave the questions for later, he thought. Although some of them had to be asked sooner rather than at his own convenience.

"I must ask," he said, still walking, "for more details as to this situation, Kalahn. I need to know as much as I can so as to plead your case to Cecil more accurately."

He stopped and turned to face Kalahn, who nearly ran into his chest.

"Kalahn, you must tell me what happened to get Risca, and almost yourself, thrown in jail. I must know details, specific ones. Now start from...let's say the time you entered Baron. What was your business there?"

She searched his eyes, looking for anything that told of possible betrayal. Finding none, for Edward was earnest in his desire to help, Kalahn began.

"Well.Risca Tye is my best friend. My only friend, really. We've been traveling together for near to three years now. Yeah.we do some illegal things to get by.

"This was one of those times. We were after some priceless artifact kept in the Inn there. We didn't want to hurt anyone, and we never have, really, up till that day. Well we got the item; I have it with me right now. After that we headed out of town.

"At the front gates, the man in blue armor ambushed us."

Edward's face screwed up in contemplation. "Blue armor.did the man carry a spear as his weapon? Jump incredibly high for any normal man?"

When Kalahn nodded, the bard-king's features drooped a bit. "Kain," he whispered, then beckoned for her to sit on a bench under one of the lower ramparts. She did, and Edward asked her to continue.

"Well Kain, or whatever his name is, was too much even for the both of us. I mean Risca is a monk, trained for over ten years; and even he couldn't keep up with the guy! Kain was chasing Risca all over town; people were waking up here and there, I could tell by the lights coming on in their windows.

"I got scared. I hid under that huge set of stairs by the door to the old waterway. I saw Risca and Kain pass me by a couple of times, but I stayed where I was because of what my magic would do. If only you'd seen, sire."

Edward placed a hand on Kalahn's shoulder, attempting to smooth the features of her delicate face. "Please, Kalahn, call me Edward. Or Chris, when you become more comfortable with me."

His smile brought her down a bit from the heights of her paranoia, and she continued.

"Well I'd had enough. I rushed into the waterway to hide for a while, figuring maybe Risca'd get his fill and follow; hoping to the Gods Kain wouldn't. They both did, the guy right on Risca's heels! They sped past me, and I tried to keep up. That water's hard to walk in, let me tell you.

"I rounded a corner, and then I saw it."

Kalahn began to shiver; Edward saw this and unlatched his cloak, placing it on the other's shoulders. She grasped at it protectively, visibly fighting tears.

"Then.I saw what happened. A waterway worker was on the ground, gutted. I mean, like gutted, Edward. Kain was right behind Risca, and they both began fighting, verbally. Kain accused Risca of killing the man.and."

Edward hugged her close. He hated dragging this out of her, but otherwise he might've been in the dark as to any crucial details. "Go on, dear," he said, squeezing her shoulder guardedly. "I'm right here."

The girl nodded, taking a deep breath. "Well after all that they started fighting physically again. Kain was ripping Risca to shreds, I mean ripping him up. So I started to get really upset.and before I knew what I was doing I'd.I'd landed a spell on Kain. The whole area, really..."

"What spell was it, Kalahn? You said it's one you swore you'd never use."

She began to sob, her eyes squinting with the light. They were alone, but Edward felt somehow as if a crowd of perfect strangers was watching this makeshift deposition. He shifted on the bench, feeling the cold stone underneath him.

"Meteo," Kalahn choked out, and it was then that Edward's jaw dropped. He'd only ever heard of two people using Meteo; his would be father-in-law and Rydia. Where and how had Kalahn learned such a powerful chant?!

He was speechless. Utterly. Kalahn stared into his cobalt eyes with the most pleading of expressions. Edward could tell she was normally much stronger than she was acting right that minute, and in a way such common sense scared him. Something about what happened had to've shaken Kalahn quite a bit, and Edward was determined to find out what.

Shakingly, he ventured the question. "Kalahn.where did you learn of Meteo? I know it's power, although I've not witnessed it myself, and to be sure only the most talented mages are capable of wielding it. Tell me how you learned of it, I'm curious."

Kalahn breathed in hard, staring at her lap. She brought her face up to the sky, sighed, and made a dissatisfied noise.

"I went somewhere I shouldn't have and did something not but one person has a right to. Let's leave it at that, alright?"

Her words were cutting to say the least, the inflection hard and rough. Edward simply nodded, aware of the obvious emotion behind Kalahn's statement. "I understand," he offered, "and I will not pry about it any further."

Edward stood and headed in. "Kalahn, follow me. I must charter the airship and get us a way to Baron. Perhaps you'd like to accompany me.?"

Hesitantly, the girl nodded and followed, her footfalls heavy as the marble that surrounded them on all sides. Edward led the way now, confident of their destination; a place he'd not entertained the thought of visiting for some time.

Since the Crystal Wars, the other major powers of the planet had established fleets of airships to accompany Baron's. Fabul's were queer looking things, rather resembling a pagoda more than an airship; Toroia's were simply beautiful, truly made to look as an ocean vessel floating through the skies. Damcyan's.were Edward's pride and joy. The ships, a total of eight so far, were dazzling in their simplicity. They used steam to move; a novel idea but one put to practical use in Damcyan's heat. The curving lines and intricately woven aesthetics made the ships to look rather unearthly; although Edward agreed this would make sense with them soaring through the clouds. Huge hulls, goudy and stiff, made way for mock sails crafted of the finest Kaipan silks. The captain's wheel was stationed at the back, rather than the middle, of the deck, whereas the cannons were small but powerful. Mages stood behind those cannons, and their ammunition was fire and ice.

The flagship was Edward's private transport, as well as his own battleship should war again plague the continents. It was named the Desert Star, after the first song Edward had ever written, as well as his name for Anna. The Desert Star scarcely looked different from the other seven ships in the fleet, but it truly was. The cannons were powered by Nuke and Holy, not Fire and Ice; the sails were larger and emblazoned with the royal Damcyani crest; the wheel was at the forefront of the deck, and Edward was to stand behind it always.

It was an enormous source of pride for the bard-king. He'd assisted in every way possible with the ship's assembly, as well as research into the building of the others in the fleet beyond that. He'd only piloted the ship three times, but it was as familiar to him as if it were decades old.

He stepped into the dock, adjoined to the castle by the secret passage he'd only discovered a few years ago. It was a huge building, housing all eight of the ships as well as the equipment needed to build them and the twenty or so people who were responsible for such a feat. The tall ceiling sheltered the dock from wind and rain, as well as providing a sort of cooling effect; metal was capable of deflecting a certain amount of heat, after all.

Immediately one of the head engineers, Malcolm, noticed Edward and his guest and ran to greet them. Malcolm was a tall man, black hair falling over deep brown eyes and a very muscular build concealed by the clothing of his profession. He wore his shirts open-fronted, but always had a white undershirt on. Lucky for the women, Edward thought jovially.

"Your Highness!" Malcolm bellowed in a heavy tenor as he approached, waving cordially. Edward bowed slightly, modesty still rather intact after five years of enduring supplication.

"Hello Malcolm. How goes it? The ninth ship working out alright, eh?"

The handsome man nodded, a lopsided smile appearing on his face. "Aye, sire. The ninth ship is coming along just fine. And a beauty she is, in all. Would you like to see her? If you have time, that is."

The bard-king glanced to where the ninth ship, the last in the fleet, was being assembled. He looked back to Malcolm, joining him in the jubilation, but shook his head.

"No, I'm afraid we are in a bit of a hurry this day, Malcolm. I need to take the Desert Star out for a ride. How long I'll be is really up to this lass here," he said, placing a protective hand on Kalahn's shoulder. Malcolm nodded his understanding and walked a bit swiftly toward the back of the docks.

On either end of the shelter there was an opening; for easy dispersion of the fleet when time was short. The Desert Star was always located closer to the far end of the dock, so that it may be released into the air first. Edward wanted it that way, for reasons he was still arguing over to the day. He'd said that if anyone would die first from an enemy's purge, it would be him. Malcolm was among the many who retorted with the traditional "but our kingdom would have no monarch!" Edward would hear none of it; he refused to back down.

Perhaps a death wish, but no one would hear of that until after the fact, no?

They walked at a leisurely pace, Kalahn taking in all the details of this new environment. People were glued to one or another craft, hammers clanging against wood and metal, forming a rather loud symphony which permeated the air of the dock. Workers shouted orders from one end to another, constantly imterrupted midway. The air was thick with sawdust and the scent of oil; Kalahn discovered it came from the men as much as the machines they were assembling.

Within minutes, though the look of the dock still betrayed the notion, the trio reached the Desert Star's station. Indeed it was a huge ship, easily reaching the ceiling of the dock, although for some reason the aesthetics of the ship made it look quite unobtrusive. Kalahn found herself staring upward at the vessel, not wuite listening to Edward's voice even though she should've been. Or she felt that way at least. He was going to save Risca Tye.he had to be a great man to do her such a favor.

She came out of the daydream to witness a hand waving about before her eyes. It was the man Malcolm's; Edward had already went off a ways. Kalahn stared a moment, then managed a weak smile.

"It'll take the ship a few minutes to warm up, lass," Malcolm assured her. "His Highness wishes to show you the rest of the ships, since you've taken such a liking to this place."

Kalahn looked sidelong at Malcolm, her eyes now following the king and his cloak, billowing out from him as he walked. "O-okay," she breathed and went to join him.

The air was swiftly turning stormy outside the dock, and Edward was determined to leave before it did. He had no idea why he was being so adamant for a girl he didn't even know.but then again, why was he that way for Cecil back then? Kindness need have no true origin, he told himself. It needs only grow from there the roots are discovered and remain healthy as it can before someone decides to pluck it from that spot and kill it.

He glanced to Kalahn, who'd come out of her trance and joined him, now standing at his left. The tall form of the sixth ship loomed over them, casting a shadow that splayed itself over the wall behind it.

"This was the one that gave us the hardest time," Edward said softly, barely audible over the hum of the Desert Star off to the far left. "This ship's assembly was delayed because of any number of things. Fires.storms; we had a very active rainy season that year. But she was completed. And look at her now; one of the most beautiful ships in the fleet. Aside from my pride and joy over there."

Kalahn looked at the bard-king, a bit puzzled. "I never thought airships would be an interest of yours. You seem a bit too."

"Sensitive?" he answered for her. "Dainty? Slight? Go on, dear, I've heard them all and they no longer bother me. Yes, I seem a bit too small a person to be involved in such manly pursuits, but one does need something to keep them busy, eh? When their friends forget about them so easily."

Immediately Kalahn knew she'd struck a chord. She placed a hand on Edward's shoulder, glancing at Malcolm for the signal that meant the ship might be ready. Nothing yet.

"Edward," she ventured. "If this is that painful for you.then we don't have to go. I can find another way to save Risca."

He shook his head, still staring up at the ship. "No, I wish to see Cecil and all my friends again. I simply hope that they haven't changed too drastically is all. You.understand don't you?"

Kalahn nodded that she did, watching him for any other signs of emotional unrest. It was the least she could do, what with him helping her this way.

And then there came Malcolm, bellowing again. "Hey your Highness! The Desert Star is ready for launch, she is! Ready for a ride 'round the skies!"

Edward nodded and headed over to the ship, eager to fly for the first time in months. Kalahn followed, still a bit unsure. Ahead, the Desert Rose loomed like a thing alive, it's engines churning with steam and bellowing out smoke, noxious and white. The bard-king hopped aboard immediately, with Malcolm's help, and took up the wheel. Malcolm beckoned for Kalahn to approach; she did, hesitantly, and he lifted her onto the bridge as if she weighed nothing at all. Then the engineer boarded himself. She looked to Malcolm, a bit puzzled.

"King's orders, lass," the big man said with a smile. Kalahn shrugged it off and took a position next to the mast for security.

"First time on an airship?" Edward asked, glancing behind him. She nodded, feeling her nerves snap at her in protest, but she knew she could at least trust Edward and Malcolm; they knew what they were doing.

The wheel went loose, spinning lazily; the ship lurched forward and slowly out into the desert sun. Edward's smile could not be contained, and Malcolm's enthusiasm was captured in one solitary statement.

"WHOO-HOO!!!!"

Kalahn jumped, but kept her hands glued to the mast; the ship was gliding through the air now, picking up altitude. She actually saw a bird and thought to reach up and touch it, but stayed put for fear that she might fly off the ship any minute. Malcolm was watching her; getting a good laugh out of it. She'd have to remember that.

The Desert Star took off without a hitch, and within minutes the trio was headed for Baron. Behind the pilot's wheel, Edward's mind was racing with the possibilities. Would Cecil be glad to see him? Even after a petition to release a prisoner of the state? Would Rosa or Cid be happy to again see their friend from the Wars?

Would any of that matter, after five years of silence.?

He could only wait and see. If things were better.or even worse.then they would remain that way. Time is cruel, the bard-king told himself, but inevitable nonetheless. Time is the be all and the end all.

Or even just the end.