Disclaimer: I do not own Wild Arms 3—I think Media Vision and Sony do. If I did, I would make an entire mini-series explaining why Lucied's gender and the spelling of people's names keep changing randomly.


Long, long ago in a galaxy far, far away…

In a land where they have achieved the ability to successfully create androids yet have no indoor plumbing, there live gods by the names of 'Guardians'. Each holds its own element (well, not literally held as more of belonged to an element) and its own form.

Wind, Water, Earth, and Fire. Next were Time, Light, Darkness, and Luck. Then were Courage, Hope, Love, and—last but certainly not least—Desire.

On Filgaia, where the Guardians sustain the planet and favorites are always placed, our story begins:

"Anyone know where I am?" His fierce yellow eyes darted back and forth looking for some sort of sign before moving upwards to see white letters slowly spell out the name of the town. "Jolly Roger… guess this place is as good as any."

He moved his way onward, stumbling awkwardly on clawed feet. A few lowly villagers had wondered outside to stare gapingly at the giant ball of immortal flame walking down the dusty road.

"Jolly Roger… kind of sounds like Jolly Rancher, doesn't it?" He mused aloud. The people looked up, still agape, in terror. Maybe it wasn't best to have started by telling people he thought they were edible and sweet.

"My apologies. I—," Dramatic pause, "Am Moor Gault, Guardian of the Crimson Flame. From the smallest ember to the biggest roaring fire." Moor Gault moved a giant wing in an elegant bow.

The people still stood, agape, frozen in terror.

"Uhh, I'm Moor Gault. Amazing Beast of Inferno?"

No one moved, as they were frozen in terror.

"I'm with the guy in a big red cape."

A murmur went through the crowd.

"S… Superman?"

"No, no, no! The other one! Glasses, big yellow shoes, looks a little like you could take a lawnmower to his head."

Another murmur moved about and some people shifted uncomfortably.

"You mean Clive?" Someone chanced to ask.

"Yeah! That's the guy! And I was just—Hey!" Moor Gault moved his head with a jerk to the side to narrowly avoid a flying furry white object. "Are you throwing cats at me?!" Another cat-a-pult flew passed the Fire Guardian's head. "Why are you throwing cats at me?"

"Because the only people who ever bought items from us for their Sandcraft are now wanted, so we don't have enough money for ammunition!" Dennis explained as he picked up yet another cat with a 'MEOOOOW.'

"Yes, but why are you throwing cats at me?!"

"Because you're new and change scares me!" Dennis shouted, the cat in his hands hissing with several more wandering around nonchalantly. Although they had a shortage of ammunition, they had a never-ending surplus of cats. Which actually turned out better in the long run—you can't eat ammunition.

"That's ridiculous!" Moor Gault said, deflecting another cat. "Geez… NPCs… You could write they're names down on paper and no one would recognize them anyway… I am a Guardian. I do not take full responsibility for the actions of my crew." He said in his defense.

Somewhere in the universe, a Captain Kirk shook his head.

"Anyway," Moor Gault quickly continued when it seemed that the cats population had begun to dwindle (don't give your hopes up, folks. The cats never dwindle). "I way just looking for a meeting area that could hold a few friends and me so that we could discuss—" Shifty eyes, "—certain matters… Matters of Revenge!!!"

Sterling stepped forward. "I'm going to ignore that last part completely, seeing as how it would reveal further plot line that the summary hasn't already uprooted, and tell you where to go."

She took a deep breath before continuing.

"There is a place that is located somewhere to the North-Southern-East of here on a peninsula that was once called the Blue Palace."

Moor Gault looked at her desperately. "That doesn't help! At least every island is a peninsula! What's the Blue Palace? Why is it there? Why is the word coated in green? Is there anything else you know?"

She took a deep breath before continuing.

"There is a place that is located somewhere to the North-Southern-East of here on a peninsula that was once called the Blue Palace."

Moor Gault shook his head, making embers tumble to the ground as his great mane shook wearily. "I take it that's all you can say."

She took a deep breath before continuing.

"There is a place that is located somewhere to the North-Southern-East of here on a peninsula that was once called the Blue Palace."

"Ack! You can stop now! OK," It was Moor Gault's turn to take a deep breath before continuing. "Onto the Blue Palace on some peninsula to the North-Southern-East."


Three days and twenty-three visits to Gamefaqs later, the Fire Lord had made it to the peninsula and was in the basement of the Blue Palace listening to the murmurs of the other Guardians.

Everyone was here: Schturdark, Fengalon, Grudiev, Dan Dairam, Celesdue, Chapapanga, Justine, Zephyr, Raftina, Star Roe—everyone except a certain purple hermaphrodite wolf.

It was time to make a stand.

"Friends and… Well, we're not really friends… So let's get this on with." Moor Gault cleared his throat. "We have not appeared in many story plot lines over the past few months and I believe that we must take a stand for the good! And the just! And the righteous! … Now, does anyone know how we can horribly destroy all of Lucied's dignity in a horrific and ghastly way?" He looked for hands, or flippers, or claws, or wings.

A timid white paw was raised half-heartedly in the air.

"Yes, Fengalon?"

"Well, urm," Fengalon scratched the back of his scruffy neck. "We could, umm, eat…it…?"

"That's your answer to everything, Fengalon. Yes, you back there who looks remotely human."

Raftina rose and Fengalon lay back down. "We could gouge out it's eyes so that it walked off a cliff then skin it alive and sell the fur to a local trader before going back and pouring salt water—courtesy of Schturdark, of course—on the fresh pink and red flesh and watching it die slowly and painfully with the setting sun."

"Raftina!" Moor Gault started. "You're the Guardian of Love!"

The Guardian of 'Love' sneered and sat back down cross-legged. "Yeah, well, you'd be surprised what you would begin thinking if you were stuck with the chatterbox all day with only a Godzilla-wannabe, a midget Gundam, and a sword." She muttered bitterly.

"Well," The Fire Guardian muttered. "This has been a very anti-productive day. We were supposed to get the plot started on revenge on Lucied after stealing all our glory. So far, we've learned that eating and sadism are definitely not options. But, there are still eight more to hear from…" He looked into the crowd in the ruins whose attention spans were already dwindling to negative zero (just like the readers!) when a sudden thought hit his head.

"I wonder how much weight this place can hold…?" Moor Gault asked himself.


"Hey." Virginia stopped in her tracks and started to probe her pocket with a single white glove. "Where did my medians go?"

Clive and Gallows followed suit and both gave quizzical looks after finding the same result.

"Who cares," Jet, ever the voice of reason, spoke out, "We never use them anyway. Now let's get out of this story before people start noticing how much attention I've been getting."