ALIVE AGAIN

ROSE TASTED SAND IN HER MOUTH. IT GRITTED HER TEETH AND MADE

her tongue coarse and rough. She blew her hair out of her face and tried to get up, but couldn't move. She was too weak. She couldn't feel her arms or her legs. Again, she tried to get up, but the simple movement just wasn't coming. For how long she waited there, she didn't know. She tried to open her mouth to call out to Zieg, but she couldn't do that either.

Zieg, she thought in desperation.

She was too weak. Too weak to move, too weak to speak, too weak to do anything. Is this what she was alone? Is this what she was when she was by herself? Weak and vulnerable?

It was as if someone was showing her the images in her head rather than conjuring them up herself. They crept into her head almost unwillingly, sinking deep into her brain and festering there, buzzing like angry insects. Suddenly she was standing in front of Zieg in the Moon That Never Sets, watching Melbu Frahma's spirit crawl out of his body, seeing Zieg fall to the ground. But more importantly, she saw the people she was with; the people around her. Dart, Albert, Haschel, Meru, Miranda and Kongol. Her friends and companions.

They were the people that gave her the strength to carry on when she felt her life otherwise useless. It had been Dart who had spared her life back in the Death Frontier. It had been him who had given her the strength to carry on and save the world.

More memories flashed before her eyes; killing Hellena's ruthless Warden to save Albert, fighting alongside her companions against the Divine Dragon, raising the Dragon Buster against Melbu Frahma, saving the world from his tyrannical rule for the second time in eleven-thousand years.

All of these things she could not have done alone. All of these things she could not have done without the help of her friends. They had given her the strength to overcome these obstacles.

As the faces of her companions shone brightly in her mind, she felt the determination to get up and, slowly, she pushed herself off the ground. She wiped the dust off of her clothes and flicked her hair. She examined her rapier, making sure it was undamaged before she looked around and surveyed the landscape. It was desolate. Cliffs and overhangs were everywhere. In a corner, Rose distinctly saw a giant scorpion-like creature withdraw into a nearby cave. She was in the Barrens. That put her close to Donau. If she could get there, she could easily get some food and water, not to mention shelter.

She looked herself over, making sure she was undamaged. Her pale, slender arms seemed to be fine, a bit sore, but fine. Her cloth armour was intact, too. That was something to be thankful for, at least. Her boots were a bit scuffed, but that was to be expected, and, though she had no way of knowing for certain, she knew her hair was a mess, tangled and filled with dirt.

Rose looked out over the horizon, squinting.

It was light outside – the sun shone brightly, the heat from it beating down upon her. She concluded that it was about midday, judging by the position that it rest in the sky. Looking around again, she felt as though something was missing. Where was Zieg? Rose looked around, but she couldn't find him. Curious, and a little afraid, Rose climbed a small outcropping and looked down on the Barrens with a bird's-eye-view. But there was no sign of red amongst the brown. She could make out a Centaur camp to the west, and she could see the outline of the trail to Donau. Rose jumped back down to the ground and poked her head inside the mouth of a cave, looking for Zieg.

"Zieg?" she called. But there was no answer except for a quiet clicking Rose thought had to be a creature of some sort. Not wanting a fight right now, Rose quickly withdrew from the cave.

She looked around once more for Zieg, but saw nothing. Zieg was always with her. Always. Rose thought hard, trying to remember back to a time when he was not, but she couldn't find one. She sat down on a nearby rock and tried to remember. Then she found an image of her and Dart in some sandy terrain, different from the one she was in now, dueling. Zieg certainly wasn't there. She thought forward from that point and remembered the fight in The Moon That Never Sets. Zieg had been there, and together they had…

Killed Frahma. But…how did she get here? She remembered charging forwards with Zieg and the Dragon Buster, and she remembered Dart and the others flying away very fast, and then nothing. Just darkness. It was a blank. There was a giant gap between then, and now.

For the second time in as many minutes, Rose felt as though something was missing, like part of her was elsewhere. It took her several seconds of silent contemplation before she felt her chest, realizing that her Dragoon Spirit was not there, nor was her choker. She was mortal and without her Dragoon Spirit. She hadn't been without either of those things in over eleven-thousand years; she had grown attached to both of them.

She retraced her steps, looking for any sign of her Spirit or her choker, but there was no sign of either. She hadn't dropped them in the sand, and there were no imprints in the sand from when she had fallen. She had arrived back on Endiness without her Spirit and without her choker.

Rose did another final sweep before admitting that she was without her most precious possessions. She sat down on a nearby rock and collapsed her head into her hands. She did not succumb to tears; she had not done that for many years, she permitted herself this small sign of weakness for a moment, and then she sighed.

Feeling that she had delayed enough, Rose set off for Donau at a steady walk. Donau, she reasoned, was much closer to most of the major countries, and she could easily, or more easily than any other place, reach each country reasonably quickly. And, who knows? They'd first met Meru in Donau – maybe she'd be there now. Maybe they'd all be there, laughing and drinking.

Rose had no idea just exactly how wishful that thinking was right then.

***********

Zieg become aware that he was wet. Wet, but strangely warm.

The very air seemed to be layered with warmth. The humidity was disgustingly hot, and the air thick. Zieg tried to get up, but he couldn't. He tried another time, but again, he couldn't get up. He felt exhausted. Zieg vaguely became aware that people were talking. He heard voices all around him, muttering, whispering, and screaming. There was defiantly a woman screaming. Zieg was face down in the shallows of some kind of beach, the sand smudged along his cheek and around his mouth. He spit out a great wad of saliva and sand and pushed himself up with much difficulty.

It took him a few moments to work up the small amount of energy needed to open his eyes. When he did this, Zieg immediately shut them again, as there were large amounts of sand in each and he spent a few moments removing it from his eyes carefully, rubbing the moisture away as he did so.

As he laboured, it was difficult to ignore the voices all around him. He was certainly involved in other things and could not see them, but he could hear them muttering.

Carefully and very slowly Zieg opened his eyes and took in his surroundings. The first thing he saw was that he was crowded by several people. He blinked quickly, attempting to rid himself of the last grains of sand from his eyes and concentrated on the nearest person. He was dark-skinned and dressed in what Zieg would describe as rags. Holes decorated the outfit as jewels would decorate the garments he had worn in the Dragon Campaign. They were frequent and varied in size. He was also covered in dirt that was a little lighter than the man's skin. His face was angular and he was looking at Zieg with a concerned, interested expression. His eyes were a dull brown, but there were many questions hidden in those eyes.

Zieg looked past the man towards the giant forest behind him. He recognized it immediately. He was in Rouge. Knowing where to look, his eyes glanced to the left and there, nestled against the coastline, was the small fishing village of Rouge. It was the same as he remembered – decrepit and unstable. It seemed strange to glance upon it and notice almost no movement. He saw no people walking along the planks. Everyone in the village, it seemed, had come to welcome him.

Lovely.

He turned back towards them and smiled, raising his arms in the universal sign for surrender. The villagers looked confused, but none of them said anything. Zieg's eyes scanned the crowd and he quickly took note that a few of them were armed. Slowly, being sure not to cause alarm, Zieg reached downwards for his sword, making sure that it was still there.

It was. And then, even more slowly, Zieg reached toward his breast with his other hand, feeling for his Dragoon Spirit. They eyed him warily, but did not make a move to stop him. They looked at him curiously as he noticed that it was not there, and frantically began searching his torso for it. After a minute he had to accept that he did not have it with him.

He examined the ground around him but saw no signs of his Spirit. The voices grew louder and he caught portions of conversations now.
"… Queen Diana?"
"– appeared out of nowhere."

"Giant flash –"
"He was suddenly there."

Zieg tuned out these voices and concentrated solely on his Dragoon Spirit. Where could it be? And where was Rose? She was not here with him. Was she somewhere else, with her own Spirit? Or had the creature tricked him and sent only himself?

He decided to dwell on these things when he had some time to himself. Right now the voices were distracting, and a giant man was now stepping out from the crowd, people backing off to give him way, and spoke to Zieg.

"Who are you, stranger?" asked the man as politely as he could muster, which was nowhere near polite at all. Any man other than Zieg would be absolutely intimidated by this man, who stood well over seven feet tall, but Zieg had faced enemies much worse. He tried, however, not to think of the innocent villagers as enemies. This was difficult though, since half of them were carrying weapons.

Zieg knew that he had to respond quickly, or else his trust with them – however little it was at the moment – would diminish. "My name is… Kanzas." He tried not to wince as he said the name. Zieg had never much cared for Kanzas, and the name still caused him some discomfort, but he ignored it. It had been the first name other than his own that came to him.

"Welcome, Kanzas," said a new voice from within the crowd. People dispersed again and a small, portly man stepped forward. He was dark-skinned like everyone else in the village, but the clothes on his back were slightly more elegant. He was in a position of power, Zieg assumed.

The man was short, much shorter than Zieg, and wide around the middle. He walked forward with a small gimp in his leg. A birth defect, most likely, as Zieg noticed that his right leg was a couple inches shorter than the left. He carried a cane on his gimped side, which he now twirled absentmindedly at his side.

He smiled at Zieg warmly, his arms wide and welcoming. "This is Rouge, as I'm sure you know. Welcome to our village. I am the mayor's assistant, consultant and advisor. Felix is the name."

He extended a hand which Zieg took warily. He casually checked for weapons strapped to the man's forearm. There were none, and Felix didn't seem to notice.

"Have you ever been to Rouge, my friend?" Felix placed an arm on Zieg's back and pushed him forwards, towards the village. Zieg tried not to grin at the fact that Felix had to reach quite high to reach his back. He probably looked like a buffoon.

"No. I've never had the pleasure of greeting the shores of Rouge."

"Well, think of it no longer! I'll ensure that you see everything there is to see, my good friend."

He pushed their way through the crowd shouting things like "away with you!" or "scatter!" The crowd quickly dispersed and Zieg was being led towards the small village, listening to Felix chatter on and on about Rouge and all its incredible attractions. He led him through the village and up several ladders and stairways until they stopped outside a small, ornate door that was much more lavishly decorated than any of the others Zieg had noticed.

Felix turned deliberately towards Zieg, comically rotating on his good leg and poking Zieg in the stomach with his cane. "Now, Kanzas, through here is the mayor." Felix said this warily, whispering the words quietly, as though afraid they would leak under the door and crawl into the Mayor's ears. "He is quick to anger and very… crude. Forgive him. He has had a difficult time leading our people in these trying times."

"I'm sure he isn't so terrible."

Felix looked at Zieg skeptically, his mouth opening as if to say something, but he seemed to decide against it.

"Ready?"
Zieg just raised his eyebrows and opened the door himself. He stepped into a brightly lit room. On his left was a giant balcony, open to the elements, but Zieg noticed small sliding doors on either side of it that would be closed during bad weather. At the moment, however, the weather was far from bad, and the room was bathed in the morning light, the warm breeze filling the room.

There was a single bookshelf resting on the wall near the balcony. Zieg was close enough to it to glance at a couple of the titles. It seemed they were all war books. This struck Zieg as odd, as Rouge had never been militarily active in his memory, nor had they been particularly interested in anything but fishing.

All around the room, leaning against desks or shelves, or even hanging on the walls, were weapons. Dozens and dozens of weapons, ranging from axes to whips to swords and shields. It seemed the Mayor was very interested in war. Zieg wondered briefly if the man had ever fought at all.

The room itself was not cluttered. On the contrary it was very organized; everything having its own place. There were several desks spread out about the room. Zieg glanced down at the nearest one and saw old records of previous battles and tactics. There were several dozen maps unfurled among the desks, and even more unrolled scrolls, still waiting to be read.

Zieg forced himself to look forwards at the desk in which the mayor was sitting in. The man still hadn't looked up from his papers. He was tall, perhaps a bit taller than Zieg, and muscular. He very well could have served in the army at some point. He was bent over his desk, the window behind him giving him liberal amounts of sunlight to read by, examining another of his scrolls.
"The mayor is very interested in war," Felix muttered to him. Zieg nodded and waited for the mayor to acknowledge them. Zieg was familiar with this game. He had played it often times during the Dragon Campaign with other generals and the nobility. The mayor was waiting for Zieg to speak first, thereby establishing his lower rank and the mayor's own superiority, thus satisfying his ego and ensuring that the mayor automatically had the upper hand.

Well, Zieg was not about to lose this competition. He had been introduced to it very early in the Campaign, and he had become very adept at it. He wondered briefly whether or not he should speak first and let the mayor have his small victory. If he was appeased, perhaps he would be easier to deal with. Zieg immediately discounted this idea. He did not intend to stay in Rouge very long, and so did not need any man's approval. He would search for Rose for the rest of the day, and if she was not here, then he would head to the mainland.

Felix cleared his throat and gave a small, quiet cough. The mayor finally looked up from his papers and appraised Zieg with a critical eye. Zieg didn't break eye contact and stared the mayor down, who eventually looked back down at his papers and shuffled them slightly, rolling them up and placing them at the side of his desk. He then stood up and walked towards Zieg.

Zieg's original impression had been right – the man was a couple inches taller than he was, and when he and Zieg clasped hands, the mayor's grip was very firm and tight, perhaps more than the common niceties permitted.

"You're the man who appeared on the beach?" growled the mayor. His voice was low and deep and sounded like two rocks being mashed together.

"Yes, sir that's the one," piped up Felix immediately, stepping out from behind Zieg to stand on the mayor's left side. "Torren and Ferra were walking along the beach and they saw the flash."

"Did they?" asked Zieg, unsurprised. "A flash? Really?"

The mayor grunted as Felix said, "Yes. A bright red one. Neither they nor I know what to make of it."

"Assuming it really happened," grumbled the mayor quietly. "Name's Telzar. I'm mayor here."

"So I'm told."

Telzar's eyes narrowed as he sat back at his desk with a low, quiet groan, shuffling more of his papers and leaning back in his chair, appraising Zieg. "Normally one introduces themselves after someone else does."

Zieg nodded and said, "My name is Zie – Kanzas, son of Kazas." Zieg had to grope through his mind for Kanzas' father's name, remembering Kanzas introducing himself as such when he had first met him.

Zieg had almost slipped up, too. He would have to concentrate from now on. Think like Kanzas, he told himself. And then, Wait. Bad idea.

He had always had a problem with his tongue, even in the old days. It had gotten him into trouble on more than one occasion, often times with Rose, but that was a different story.

"And what are you doing upon our shores, Kanzas, son of Kazas?"

Zieg shuffled his feet, surreptitiously checking to see how far away Felix was in case this ended badly. So far it was not going as well as Zieg would have hoped, but he had his own blasted tongue to thank for that. Thankfully he had accompanied Emperor Diaz to many political meetings during the Dragon Campaign, and he had picked up a couple things from observing the Emperor.
Zieg quickly conjured up a story.

"I was commissioned to guard a ship bearing from Tiberoa to a port near these waters and –"

"There are no ports near these waters," interrupted Telzar.

A hole in his story already. He thought quickly to recover from this unfortunate situation.

"Forgive me sir, but it is a rather new development by the Tiberoan government. We founded some new islands close to here, and my ship bore many civilians destined to live there."

"We have heard of this development, although we were not aware that it had become such public knowledge," said Telzar warily. He and Felix exchanged a quick glance before both looking back at Zieg expectantly.

"Nor I, sir. However, upon our voyage we were attacked by pirates of some sort. I scarcely knew what was happening before one of them knocked me unconscious. When I woke, the ship was burning and the sea had half claimed her, and I was floating on a spare piece of driftwood a few hundred feet from the wreckage. The attacking ship had long gone and I saw no other survivors among the debris."

"You seem unharmed," observed the mayor, looking him up and down.

For the first time, Zieg's mind stopped thinking about Rose and he concentrated on himself. He felt his body up and down. There were a couple scratches, probably from the impact of the fall – who knew how far he had fallen? – but he was otherwise okay. His side, however, was another matter. Now that he concentrated on it, he could feel the throbbing pain there, and feel the thick, warm blood pooling there. It did not show through his armour, however, and he was unconcerned with it. He would live until he could fix it up himself.

"I was very fortunate to avoid fatal injury. My side, however, seems to be bleeding."

Telzar nodded as if this was expected. "My wife will tend to you. She has helped me through many a scrape."

"Thank you," said Zieg with a small nod, stepping away from Telzar and turning to leave. It seemed that it hadn't gone too badly. Telzar seemed satisfied with his story, which, if Zieg said so himself, was rather eloquent of him to invent on the spot like that. He had never been a man of words, really. Action before words, but as he grew older he had been forced to accept that words were indeed quite useful.

Zieg heard Felix's footsteps follow closely behind him, but Zieg didn't get halfway to the door before…

"If I may ask," said Felix from behind, "what was the name of the ship?"

Zieg turned, momentarily stunned. "The ship?"

"Yes. Your ship. The one you came on."

For what must have been the third time in as many minutes, Zieg racked his brains as quickly as he could to figure out yet another answer to a question he knew not the answer to. "The Queen Fury," he said, vaguely remembering Rose mentioning it to him in the Moon That Never Sets when he was barely conscious.

"Ah. A fine vessel," said Felix with a small nod. "Come. I will show you to your room and send for the surgeons if Esmerelda does not feel up to the challenge." He exchanged a glance with the mayor, whose eyes looked sorrowful as he ushered them out with a wave of his hand.

As soon as they were out the door, Felix turned to Zieg and said, "The mayor has been suspicious of recent unusual activity, and your appearance on the beach certainly qualifies as such."

"Why is he so suspicious?" asked Zieg as Felix gestured down another corridor and Zieg followed him down a set of narrow hallways that stretched throughout the village, which was almost a maze to him. There seemed to be so many different turns and ladders and doorways that Zieg would have gotten quite lost had he not had a guide.

"The Queen has been unforgiving of late, and her taxes have been cruel. There's talk of rebellion, which the mayor wants no part of. He knows that any who stand against the Queen die – no exceptions. He's not foolish enough to attempt it."

Zieg frowned.

"There are also whispers of a new general," continued Felix, "and that has everyone on edge. Telzar wants to take no chances."

"He seems a good man."

Felix shrugged. "Only where war is concerned."

** ** ********

Throughout many of the hallways, if they could be called that, there were large, wide windows exposed to the elements that gave a lovely view of the ocean. The waves crashed against the rocks and Zieg spotted several fishing boats in the distance. The wind was warm and light; the boats outside had no sails, as there had always been little wind in Rouge. The villagers had always had to rely on oars and paddles to make their way out into the sea.

Felix led him down a long corridor with windows on either side of it. On one side was the ocean, and on the other a sprawling green jungle, the sounds of which could be heard even from here. At the end of the corridor was an open doorway which Felix walked into, tapping on the wood slightly.

He led Zieg into a brightly lit room that Zieg would suspect to be the main room. There were several wooden chairs arranged around a large table made of jungle trees. There was a bowl of fruit nestled in the center, filled with fruits that Zieg didn't recognize. There was a glass window that took up the entire back half of the room directly in front of him, and arranged around the room were several different plants that, again, Zieg didn't recognize.

"Esmerelda?" Felix called. "We have a patient here."

Within moments a tall, dark-skinned woman appeared from a side-room that Zieg hadn't noticed before as it blended in perfectly with the walls and appeared to push itself open. Her hair was long and thick; black, and wavy. Her skin was very fair, and her hands, while obviously kept in good care, showed the work and wear of a housewife and mother.

Her eyes were green and she looked Zieg over with them haughtily. She was, aside from Rose, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Esmerelda carried in her hands a small towel, which she was using to dry her hands absentmindedly, glancing between both him and Felix.

"Oh?" she said. "And what has this one done?"

She turned to Zieg sharply, an expectant expression on her face.

"I seem to have received a small gash in my side." Wordlessly, Zieg pulled off his armour and tunic and displayed his left side for all to see. It was the first time Zieg had looked upon the wound himself, and he was just as surprised as everyone to see the large, purplish bruises surrounding a rather nasty gash. The area around it was mixed red and blue – some of it was already turning black, but for the most part the bruising had just started. It looked as though Zieg had landed on a jagged rock upon his fall.

Carefully, he inspected the left side of his armour and saw that it was broken through and cracked. He also noted small packs of rust on the shoulders and chestplate that had not been there the last time Zieg had looked upon them. He grimaced as he realized he would need to have his armour repaired or replaced, and both would cost a fair fortune.

Rolling his eyes, he placed the armour down against a nearby chair and permitted the woman to look him over, tutting or muttering something he couldn't hear now and then. After a few moments of silence, Felix cleared his throat and rocked back on his heels.

"Well, I must be going. The Mayor needs me to run him through our inventory. Esmerelda, Kanzas," he said, nodding to each. Esmerelda paid him no attention while Zieg merely lifted his chin in response. Felix left quickly and without another word, leaving Esmerelda to look over his wounds in silence.

"I don't know how you all manage to beat yourself up like this," she muttered quietly after a few moments.

"It's all part of the job."

"The job of a warrior is to protect himself and the people he loves, not get himself killed with reckless behaviour."

Zieg lifted his arms higher as her head came upward to examine a smaller cut closer to his chest. "If you wish, I can clean the wound myself. I've grown quite adept at it over the years."

She spared him a small glance that did not look friendly and said, "Oh, yes. The scars decorating your body attest to that." She pointed to the many located on Zieg's upper torso, most from the Dragon Campaign, a couple more recent from Dart or Rose while Frahma had occupied his body.

"Give it another couple weeks. Those will become scars, too."

She bent up again to look at Zieg in the face. He was surprised to see that he wasn't much taller than she was. Most of the people on Rouge were tall, even the women, and she barely had to look up to meet his eyes. Her eyes glinted with a sorrow and hatred that Zieg couldn't identify past the fact that both were present. "And what is one more scar to a warrior?"

Zieg laughed, although he found nothing amusing in the question. "Just another reminder of the blood he's shed."

She sniffed in disagreement but didn't say anything else on the subject and started treating his wounds. First she dabbed at them to wash off the blood and paused here and there to mutter some irritated comment on the shape he kept his body in, or something of the like.

"Hmm," she said after a while, stepping back to examine him again, her right hand stretched thoughtfully across her cheek. "That will need to be sewn up." She pointed to the first gash on his left side that was still bleeding. "It looks like a sword slashed you here," she gently touched his left side, being careful not to agitate the wound. "You're very lucky; it missed your fourth rib by a very small amount."

Zieg looked down at the wound. That had been the blade of his son, Dart. Now that was a curious thing. It seemed that the wounds he had received on the Moon had surfaced again with his reincarnation into the world, but his Dragoon Spirit was not with him.

"Do you know how you received these wounds?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Zieg knew he had to lie. "No, it's all a blur."

She seemed unconvinced but didn't press the issue. "Eat," she said as she walked out of the room, pointing to the bowl of fruit Zieg had noticed earlier. "You'll feel better."

Zieg nodded and watched her go, most likely to fetch a needle and thread to sew up the wound. Slowly, trying not to reach too far and disturb his wound, Zieg reached for what he now identified as a banana and peeled it open, shoving it into his mouth. He hadn't realized just how hungry he was until he actually started eating. Within minutes had had emptied everything in the bowl with the exception of a strange pink fruit that he had tried earlier and put back, not caring for it.

Esmerelda walked back into the room carrying with her a basket of various items, which she set down on the table beside the almost empty bowl of fruit. She set about her task with deliberate slowness, looping the thread with the needle and carefully lowering it down to the wound.

"Now," she said, "I'm going to sew up this wound. This may sting."

Zieg nodded mechanically. "I've had this done before."

She didn't respond, but instead handed him a towel. "Put it in your mouth and bite down on it if it helps you. Just don't move."

Zieg nodded again but didn't accept the towel. She scowled, but didn't say anything, lowering the needle to his skin and pushing it through. Zieg winced, but it didn't hurt overmuch.

"This one will need to be sewn up, too," she said, pointing to another closer to his hips.

Zeig nodded again, familiar with both the process and the pain that came with sewing up a wound. He had had it done several times before, though most times Shirley had just fixed him up. But the earlier times, before she had been found and before she was powerful enough, he had had to have his wounds stitched to prevent from dying.

He tried to think of where Rose could be while the needle pierced his skin again and again, but it didn't take away the pain. He would never let her see it, but his body was unaccustomed to this kind of discomfort. Zieg's theory was that, since his reincarnation, his body was new again, more or less. His senses and nerves were working overtime until he got used to being in a corporeal form again. He certainly didn't remember the process stinging this much.

After an hour or so, Esmerelda straightened up and looked over her work with a critical eye. "Well," she said after a moment, "you'll live. I can't do anything about the bruising, and the swelling on that arm will go down in a couple of days. You must have fallen pretty hard to do this to yourself."

"Thank you."

She pursed her lips and placed her hands on her hips as he moved to get up. "What are you doing? I didn't just spend an hour stitching up those wounds for you to get up and break them all open again. Sit. Stay there for an hour at least."

Zieg scowled but obeyed. He got the feeling that even the greatest warrior in the world would lose an arguement to this woman, and he sat down slowly, waiting impatiently for her to give him the command to get up.

He watched her walk about the large house fixing things up in an almost obsessive way. She adjusted the curtains and watered the many plants scattered throughout the house, barely sparing him a glance. During this time, she asked him many questions about where he served and what ship he had come on in. He fed her lie after lie until, finally, she stopped asking and left him to his thinking.

When he was able, he would search the island for Rose and his Dragoon Spirit. If neither turned up, he would head to the mainland and see where that took him. He wasn't sure exactly what the spirit had meant by "Soa's Fate", but he wasn't prepared to do anything about it just yet. First he was determined to find Rose, and then he knew he had to find his Spirit. How could you fight Fate without a Dragoon Spirit? He would be of much better use to Endiness with a Dragoon Spirit resting against his breast and wings on his back.

Esmerelda checked on him every ten minutes or so, and after six or seven times doing it, she told him to get up and try to walk.

"All right…," she said slowly. "It doesn't seem to be tearing. I suppose you can walk around now, but be careful, and come back if they open up again."

Zieg nodded and headed for the door, but Esmerelda was suddenly in his way, blocking his escape from the house. "You'll sleep here tonight. You can't be going anywhere else with those stitches and if you have any trouble during the night I can help you from here. It's much easier and safer for the both of us. You can sleep in my son's room."

She led the way through the door she had appeared from earlier, which led to a kitchen, and then out another door which entered into a small hallway. At the end of the hall, on the right side, was a door that read, "Teno." She waited outside the room for Zieg to catch up with her, as he had to move slowly so as to avoid any pain he might be caused (or any angry reactions Esmerelda might send at him).

"But won't your son be needing this room tonight?"

"No," she said, her eyes gaining a far-off quality as she looked into the room, her eyes focusing on the bed that was now visible to both of them from the doorway. Zieg put two and two together in half a moment.

"Your son was a warrior, wasn't he?"

She nodded. "He was in his father's army, sent to guard the borders outside the village."

"He's dead, then?"

"Yes." Her face fell and she looked away from him, eyes welling up with tears. Zieg felt the urge to comfort the woman, but felt that would be inappropriate, so he watched her fight back her tears and waited for her to regain her composure.

"What happened?"

She sniffed and pushed her hair back, which had fallen into her face when she looked away from Zieg. "He guarded the borders outside the villages," she repeated. "One night, the soldiers came from the mainland and attacked us without warning or provocation. He died in the assault. He would have been twenty-two this year."

"I'm sorry."

She sniffed again and turned her face towards Zieg. "He was foolish. He tried to fight too many at once and died because of it. He was barely recognizable when he was found."

Zieg didn't know whether or not he should say anything, so he let her speak. When it became apparent to him that she would say no more, he bowed to her slightly and stepped inside the room. She followed him in.

"Thank you," said Zieg, looking about the room. It was small compared to the others he had glimpsed into. There was a small window by the dresser whose glass frame was closed, cutting off the warm jungle air and keeping the room cool. The curtains were drawn and the room was dark as a result. The bed was made of the same wood as the table, but it was crafted in such a way that made it beautiful.

"I realize it is not the ideal accommodations for a warrior. Tedo always complained about that," she said with a small laugh.

"It's perfect," Zieg assured her with a smile.

She smiled back and looked around the room for a few moments. Zieg let her have her moment, as he guessed she had not been in here for a long while. After a minute, she smiled at him and curtsied. "If there is anything you need, please do not hesitate to ask. My husband wants you to be comfortable here."

"Thank you," repeated Zieg.

She left awkwardly, backing out slowly, giving the room a longing glance, as though she were trying to take as much of it with her as she could; memorizing its every surface. When she was gone, Zieg climbed into the bed and was surprised to find it soft and comfortable. His exhaustion of the day kicked in soon after, and he felt unconsciousness clawing at him and, with a groan, he surrendered himself to it.