Silence spoke more then words ever had before, as Fxeni stood alone in the Hall of the Gods. Memories, feelings, pain, happiness; every thought and remembrance of the past events came rushing at him in a cloud of anguish. For the moment, he was alone, to look over what had happened, how it had occurred, and the sacrifices made. All of his friends had suffered from what had happened... while the world cheered, he and his friends mourned, in their own way. Some cried while alone, some went off to find a new happiness to fill the hole left in their hearts...while Fxeni stood in the Hall of the Gods, recalling events as he stared at a small, gleaming, black pearl in his outstretched palm...


The quiet night remained just that: quiet. But Kidria was uneasy with herself, unable to sleep and full of worry about the others. Two weeks had passed since Celos, Fupac, and Halystaru had headed north with great goals in mind. No sign had been seen since: No messages came, no friends returned victorious, and curiously, no pale faced warriors had been seen either. It was assumed by many that the two sides had basically destroyed each other, but no one had the guts to go out and actually look. So, for a time, the world was calm and slightly relaxed.

It wasn't that way for Daleth and Kidria.

Neither knew particularly why, but they both believed that it wasn't over. So, all they were allotted to do was worry and wait, wait for any sign or hope that might appear to them over the horizon...whether it be the face of a friend or a foe. To a certain extent, Kidria was getting desperate just to see any known face, even if it was pale. The unknown was excruciating for both of them. But Kidria knew the answer already...she just didn't know why.

Daleth, meanwhile, sat in the other room, hands resting on his chin, while he basked in the warmth of the fireplace as he wallowed in his own thoughts. Despite all the problems, incredible events, and revelations from Truth and Evil, he didn't get one thing. Why was Evil so damn eager to kill Kidria? The girl didn't hold any particular threat, and he doubted that Evil just felt that she had to go for no reason...

A light wind by the window took Daleth's attention away and shoved it into total awareness and caution. He picked up his lance and pranced over to the window, where he found nothing but stars in the sky and a cloudless, breezeless, moonless night. He raised an eyebrow to no one in particular, then turned back around and headed back for his chair.

The breeze came again, stronger this time, and Daleth was convinced that this wasn't a coincidence any longer. Slower, more cautious this time, he approached the window once more, with a small feeling of dismay. He knew it was odd...but he had felt something on that wind he knew had bad intentions. He peeked his head out the window once more, searching for something, anything, and his eyes focused on a small group of torches in the distance. He grimaced, his eyes couldn't make anything out in this black night. He missed his pet wyvern, Cerulean...she always had a sense of smell and vision that kept Daleth safe and content. He hoped to see her again one day...

"Ah...but I am here, dear Daleth."

The young Elvaan turned on his heels in an abrupt motion, nearly knocking himself down in the process. He found himself staring at his once loyal pet, now corrupted into madness: Cerulean.

"Odd. You don't SEEM happy to see me." The Wyvern cocked its head with a smirk grin.

"I missed the old Cerulean, not this atrocity." Daleth spat as he talked. "Cerulean died to the Shadow Lord weeks ago. Whatever you are, you are no longer my loyal pet...my friend."

This seemed to erk the Wyvern a bit, but Cerulean shook it off and tsk-tsked. "So much anger. Shame you'll never put it to the proper use." Daleth ignored this, and the pale-white lizard continued. "I've come here for two reasons, neither of which I think you will appreciate. The first is to brag in your slimy face...and the other, to fix any holes in my intentions."

Daleth's anger turned to confusion. "Brag?"

The Wyvern nodded. "Oh yes, my dear Daleth. We have much in store for you tonight. But I wanted to reveal your loss, and in fact, thank you for helping us along. You see...you were winning in the first place. We were just losing on purpose."

Daleth stared at the wyvern with an emotionless look. "I'll admit, we did make one mistake. A tiny miscalculation that left us reeling...until we realized how to use it against you. We never knew that Taelos had two split families. So, when we sensed the strength that the one you call 'Taea' held, we immediately assumed she was his heir. We did not know about 'Celos'. So, with the five of us aligned, and believing ourselves to be perfect, we left to conquer the world."

"It was apparent by the first battle how weak we really were. In our perfection, we would have no trouble whatsoever with Truth or any pathetic Elvaans." The wyvern gave an amused look toward Daleth, but continued without any pause. "And so, Takmir fell, but even then he did give you some trouble, I believe. But from then on, it was all planned. Planned to let you fight us one at a time. Planned that we would lose. Planned that we would be trapped by Truth. And planned that once the final one of us fell, Truth would die, and so would you."

"Did you not wonder why we always faced you one on one? Why, despite so many chances to kill you on the spot, we held ourselves back? Hell, I had to literally drop Truth into Celos' and Halystaru's lap. I even gave a torch to Celos in the forest. But during that battle, we intended to capture the girl. We released her to anger, tried our best to throw her into an incredible rage, and it worked. She even impressed ME with the strength she exercised when she attacked one of us in the forest, and it was enough to get herself sprayed with our blood, my blood, of Evil. And so, she became ours."

"However, we had to wait until the last battle in Sandoria to finally destroy Truth, we needed to keep it around so that you could 'capture us', which was easily remedied. We simply gave our hosts their weapons back. If we had destroyed Truth at the beginning, you would have sought out Light, and Light is our only threat now...which is why I'm here."

"That's right Daleth. We're now perfect, stronger then you can hope to imagine. And, before you get any misplaced hopes about the savior of Light, you might want to look out the window at the torches you saw a few moments ago."

Daleth, struck with utter shock and horror, turned away from the wyvern and walked back to the window a final time, expecting a trap or some such trick. As soon as he stuck his head out the stone hole, he was met with the roar of an army of hundreds...no, thousands, of Beastmen, collaborating outside the Bastok walls. They all held swords and shields, or spears, or some form of crude weapon, be it a torch or a club, armor at the ready, and waiting for a cry of command to attack. Their combined cries of fire, glee, and rage all came as one to Daleth, and he was struck with a terror he had never felt before. The helpless, sleeping city of Bastok was about to be ravaged by the force of all of Vanadeil's Beastman, and Daleth knew that no matter how fast Bastok responded to this threat, it would only be minutes before the city was lost and burnt to the ground.

He slowly turned back to the smiling Wyvern in shock and anger. "All this for light? Why do you fear it so deeply? And...What the hell IS light? Only you know its form." He shook his fist at the condescending Cerulean.

The Wyvern merely shook its head. "Not a what. A who. And as for where it is, well...they say that all questions are answered in death. Maybe you'll know then." The pale lizard flapped its wings and soared over to the windowsill, then turned back to the staring Elvaan. "One thing I will never understand about you creatures is your spirit. All is lost, both you and me know that. Yet, we also both know that despite the loss of all this hope, you will still turn right around, grab the girl, and try to escape the city. Hehe...sorry. I'm not going to wish you luck. It would be a waste of my breath."

And with one final look of total victory, the wyvern turned from Daleth and flew into the night sky. However, Daleth was no longer paying attention. He had turned around and had run as quickly as he could into the next room where Kidria slept, intent on fleeing for their lives.