Fall into Ecstacy

Prologue: Part 2

By Kaasan Faerlyte B.

Disclaimer: No ownage of FFXII or it characters.

Alright, here we go. Read and enjoy!

He's dead, Penelo. You have failed.

"No!" I cried, shaking my head fiercely. "It's not true. He can't be dead. I'm here...how can he not be?"

But he wasn't. There was no warmth left in that rigid, ashen body–no breath, no light behind that gaze of stone. The ghost of death had swept him away while I slept and now I was alone.

They will blame you.

Even if I escaped with my life I would still have to face the others. Their disappointment would be unbearable. He had given his life in a futile attempt to save mine and look where it got him. And it's my fault.

You can't protect anyone, failure.

My skin crawled. I stepped back slow and deliberate, away from the lifeless body and the wicked voice that seemed to emanate from him. "It can't..." I swallowed hard–"it can't be."

I couldn't stomach to see him that way and know he would never speak again, never smile, never touch. I turned away, trembling. Hairs prickled on the back of my neck as something sinister cackled in the darkness. Shadows rose up from the ground, materializing into the un-dead men. Their armor and bones grinded together with an awful sound and they surrounded me.

You left him do die! They whispered. Now you will die with him!

"Stop!" I yelled, but the shadows only thickened and the voices grew louder. I ran, swinging my hands blindly at whatever blocked my way.

They pounced, snickering and screaming and howling stones down over my head. They grabbed at my hair, my clothes, my skin. They cut and tore, drawing blood as they sought to drag me to the ground beneath them.

There was a light ahead of me, taunting with false hope as each step I took towards it only pulled me further away. I wept hysterically, fighting with every last inch of my soul not to fall, but they were everywhere.

"Help me! Someone!" I cried out desperately, but my voice was drowned out by their shrieks of madness.

No one can save you...you are mine!

Something reached out and grasped my shoulder, human-like. The un-dead shrank back into the shadows swiftly and I turned around. My stomach churned and I recoiled with a horrified gasp, covering my mouth before I could scream.

"Hello Panelo." A corpse limped towards me, too reminiscent of Basch to ignore, but dead and rotting. Unspeakable things made home in the flesh and it grinned the grin of disease and death.

"Get away from me." I shivered, "You're not Basch."

"What is the matter? Do you not recognize me?" Its body convulsed as it hacked a laugh and lifted the blade of an old rusty sword to my throat. His eyes were pale and mad, "You abandoned me." He rasped. "You left me to die. What did you expect to see?!"

"That's not true!" I backed another step. "I tried to save you! I did everything I could–"

He poised the sword for a strike, "Your words are empty." He lunged with amazing speed and I bolted, only to be caught in a snare of boney fingers. The blade came down across my throat, cutting my scream in half. Blood spurted all over my front and onto the ground. I fell to my knees with wide disbelieving eyes, choking for a breath that wasn't there.

I jerked awake with a scream. Sweat trickled down my neck and I gasped frantically for air, gulping it down. An indiscernible silhouette appeared by my side and strong, warm hands grasped me gently, but firm. I fought back instinctively with the image of my death and its cold caress still fresh in my mind.

"Penelo!" A voice called out sharply and I was given a firm shake that rattled my brain.

Basch? No! Leave me alone!

My breath hitched in my throat and I stiffened, "I tried."

"It's over, Penelo." Basch spoke softly. His hand slid behind my head, forcing me to look up at him. A flicker of light reflected in his eyes as he looked down at me, concern deeply etched into the contours of his face. "It was a dream. You are safe now."

Something finally registered in the back of my mind and I blinked, mystified. He was alive. Basch was alive.

We are alive!

I reached out and touched his cheek with my fingertips. A shock ran down my arm, jolting me to alertness. His skin was warm and inescapably solid–he wasn't a figment of my imagination. My heart swelled with an overwhelming sensation of joy. "Am I glad to see you." I began to sob and threw my arms around his neck. "I thought you were dead!"

Basch returned the embrace with a sigh of relief. He waited patiently for me to catch my bearings. I finally pulled away with a tired sniffle and found his vest was thoroughly wet. He made no mention of it though and smiled reassuringly.

"I'm sorry." I mumbled miserably, hiccuping.

Basch brushed his thumb across my cheek and wiped away the last of my tears. "You need not apologize." He said. "Do you wish to talk about it?"

I shuddered involuntarily and gazed down at my hands, trying not to remember too graphically the nightmare that had preceded this moment. As long as I kept it to myself though doubt would gnaw at my mind. I needed that quiet fear to be assuaged.

"I understand if you do not."

"It was awful." I insisted with a shiver, "You had died while I was sleeping. I woke up and there were skeletons everywhere, garbbing me, saying things...and then you came back, but it wasn't really you. It was something horrible and...twisted. You said it was my fault and that I'd let you die, and then you...you k-killed me." I closed my eyes and involuntarily conjured up the memory. My body was cold again and the blood running away faster than I could ever hold it. When my eyes opened again, I continued, "...there was so much blood. I could feel it, like it was real, even after you woke me. It was more real than any dream I've ever had." Tears leaked down my face, "I was so scared. I don't want to die."

Basch took my hands in his and squeezed them. He looked at me intently, forcing my attention on him and nothing else; there was so much care and sympathy there. "On my honor, Penelo, if ever I let you come to harm, then it shall be my life that is forfeit." He swore and gave my hair a friendly tousle.

His face was close enough that I could've made out every little detail had I wanted to, but I looked away instead. "But you can't." I protested. "You have to protect Ashe. I'm pretty expendable actually." I smiled crookedly.

That was true enough and I'd come to terms with it a long time ago. Orphans were afforded no knightly protection, even from fallen knights. Besides, this one had too much heart to give in to those who would brand him as a traitor. He was loyal to his duty, whether duty wanted him or not. If only there were more like him. Vaan could stand to learn a few things from him...

Basch scowled deeply, "If honor did not demand it, my conscience certainly would." He maintained gravely. "Besides which that is a foolish thing to say and I'll not have you speak of yourself in such a way. I am alive by your hand alone and I intend to repay you in full before my life ends. You have only to ask me. Agreed?"

I sighed and shrugged, "I'll let you know."

He placed his hand beneath my chin, "Expendable you are not, my dear." He said emphatically.

I licked my lips uncertainly and my cheeks flared with warmth. "I'm glad someone thinks so." I mumbled and averted my eyes to the ashes that remained of the fire. They looked cold. How long had we been asleep? I hadn't the foggiest, but I was famished.

Basch sat down beside me and wordlessly handed me a bag of rations.

I accepted it eagerly. "Gods am I hungry. How'd you know?"

He smiled faintly. "I had an inkling from the rumble in your stomach."

"Oh." I giggled sheepishly. I fished out a strip of jerky and tore off a piece between my teeth. As hard and chewy as it was, nothing had ever tasted so good. Anything that reminded me I was still alive was pretty nice actually.

Basch fingered his own chunk of jerky thoughtfully. He studied the cavern with growing intrigue, pausing for a length of time on the light crystals. "This palce is fascinating." He murmured and glanced back at me. "You will have to tell me what I've missed."

I swallowed my last bite and cleared my throat, "Sure." I answered, my eyes straying to where my stockpile of wood had been. Out again. "We should get more wood first though."

Basch arched a curious brow at that, "I was going to ask. Where did you find it?"

"Come on." I inclined my head towards the only tunnel leading out and stood with a long, satisfying stretch. "I'll show you. We can talk along the way."

There's a torch around here somewhere.

I spotted one beside my blanket and picked it up.

"My sword was lost in the fall I presume." Basch spoke up, noticeably disturbed by the notion.

My hands were fiddling with the torch absently–"Ow," which promptly gave me a splinter. "Yeah." I winced slightly. "But I found a couple things that we can use."

Basch appeared beside me from seemingly out of nowhere, eliciting a good jump out of me. He wordlessly took the torch from me and then my hand, which he examined studiously. The splinter was extracted a moment later. He held the head of the torch out, "Would you be so kind...?"

I pursed my lips in puzzlement, arching a single brow.

"A light." He clarified.

"Oh!" I blurted out stupidly. "Right. Gotcha. Good one, Penelo." I set the torch on fire and managed to salvage a fraction of my dignity.

Basch chuckled lightly.

"Here we go." I stooped down absently and retrieved my hatchet from the ground where it had been haphazardly discarded. "It's not much, but it's better than nothing." I indicated the weapon and tossed it to him.

He caught it in his free hand and examined it with a nod of satisfaction. "This will do fine." He assured me. "You have me thoroughly intrigued now."

I smiled. This was the first time I really had the opportunity to discuss the ruins with anyone other than myself. Before they had stood little more than in the background. Now we could really take a look at them and maybe get an idea of the history behind them. Excitement pulsed through my veins unexpectedly as the allurement of the unknown caught on.

"Are you unarmed?" Basch asked.

I blinked out of my daze abruptly. "Oh, no. There's a sword around here somewhere." I answered and went searching for it. After the battle with the skeleton the sword had never entered my mind again, except for the nightmare.

My hairs stood on end. It wasn't some sort of premonition, was it? What if Basch wasn't supposed to die until later and then come back as something monstrous? I shivered.

A glint of metal caught my eye and I altered course towards it. I stooped to pick it up, my hands grasping the worn leather hilt, and began to lift it. A sharp pain shot down my right arm from a point in my shoulder and I dropped the weapon with a swift intake of breath. I winced, grasping at the source of pain with my good hand.

It was the stab wound from the spear. I started to look down with reservation and reluctantly pried back the fabric of my shirt. The skin had mended fine, but it was abnormally red underneath, as if infected. How could that be?

My brow furrowed in confusion. If the healing hadn't done the job, the dragon root should have.

I carefully stretched the arm and had to bite my lip to keep from yelping in pain. Something was clearly wrong. I ran a finger gently over the surface; it was very warm to the touch.

"Penelo?" Basch called from behind me in a questioning tone.

I hastily picked up the sword in my left hand and turned back to join him. "Ready." I confirmed. My breath was held as I waited for him to notice something distinctly out of place. I felt really awkward holding it that way.

Evidently, Basch was too preoccupied by our curious circumstance to notice, or he had chosen to ignore it for the moment. I threw a few last minute things into my inventory pack before setting off down the path that I'd taken days before. Basch followed behind me at an easy pace, taking time to examine our surroundings. The sun crystals were already noticeably brighter than they had been when I awoke and shimmering in an array of different colors.

It wasn't far to the room where I'd found the weapons and the wood, but we took our time while I recounted the events of the past few days. Basch listened intently.

I had to catch my breath when I finally finished, "And that's about it."

Basch chuckled. "Ever modest."

I blushed. "It was mostly luck."

We came around the bend that opened up into the hall which contained the room I'd discovered a few days ago and where the first real signs of civilization were visible. Basch stepped past me to take a look, his eyes bright with wonder and amazement

"Remarkable." He murmured as he peered through the carved out doorway. "I had not known that such a place existed. The mysteries of our world truly have no bounds."

I stood in the hall looking beyond and felt an icy breeze brush against my face. It made a sound like a voice as it passed and came back around me in a circle. A sensation of apprehension coursed through my body and I stiffened uncertainly.

The air thickened with a sorrowful longing. Something beckoned from the depths.

Basch emerged from the side room and glanced down the way. The feeling must have struck him too for he stopped very suddenly. A million voices of despair whispered at my conscience, drawing me down the tunnel like a moth to light.

Unlike myself however, Basch was determined to discover the source, as any self-respecting knight should. He wordlessly continued on and after a moment I worked up the courage to follow. After a time the path widened into a very large, oval shaped room. Once there had been a door here, but it was in pieces now. Massive stone pillars elegantly spiraled to the ceiling on either side of the room, inlaid murals detailed the floor to the finest curve, and at the far end loomed another door with a pale glow cast around it.

My throat seized in speechless awe. A humming vibration emanated from the floor beneath my feet and up through my bones.

Basch stepped forward hesitantly, his eyes trained on everything. Everywhere you looked there were remnants of this unknown people–a history somehow entirely forgotten in time. There was no surface in this room that was not lovingly embellished by a crafter's hand.

"It's beautiful." I breathed.

"It is." Basch agreed. He crossed the room towards the door at the far end. I was still examining some of the carvings when I realized that I'd been left behind and I had to jog to catch up. I reached him at the door and halted behind him.

It was solid black steel. The negative contours of its carved surface shimmered silver in bright contrast. An unmistakable power surrounded it, pulsating with hot energy and something else I couldn't quite describe. Sadness? Yearning? Hope? It was almost alive.

Basch studied it for a long time before turning back to me. "A powerful spell was worked upon it." He explained, almost disappointed. "It is doubtful anyone will ever see what lies beyond."

"Maybe that was the idea." I suggested ominously. I suddenly had this inescapable feeling that I was being watched and that the gaze was not friendly. I was reluctant to be a poor sport, but the more I stood in this room the more I wanted to get away. Something else resided here, something brutal and hungry for death. It had chased away the plea of hope that had first drawn us here and beared vicious talons towards us now, "...I think we should go."

Basch stared at the door, a shadow over his eyes. He felt the change too then. I shouldn't have been surprised. He nodded, understanding. "Yes, you're right. I forget we still have a long trip to the surface ahead of us."

I was never more relieved to be out of that place, but it was short lived. Shame crept into my heart with each step that took me farther away. I felt like I was abandoning someone.

Fortunately, we were abruptly sidetracked by the appearance of armored skeleton warriors on the path ahead. Or maybe unfortunately. They were the first fiends we had encountered and Basch made short work of them, but I couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

There were beads of light where their hearts had once been that shuddered and went out when they were banished. It was unlike anything I'd seen before when dealing with the un-dead, but it was the painful wail they let out as they fell that really got to me. My chest tightened and I thought I saw wisps of smoke, eerily shaped as men, rise up from the bones and disperse into the air.

Basch stood to my left, hesitating as we exchanged an uncertain glance.

"Did you see that?" I asked.

"Yes." He murmured despondently.

I shivered. "That's never happened before."

"No." Basch concurred.

"What do you suppose it means?" I wondered allowed.

Basch shook his head grimly, "I know not,."

We headed onward and found another room by accident after taking a wrong turn. This one was barred by a door of some material I couldn't name, which basically disintegrated when we touched it. Perhaps it had been a magic door whose magic had long since gone out.

There was an array of weapons inside, among them a crossbow that I confiscated for myself, and a broad sword that Basch traded his hatchet for. Unlike the hatchet and short sword that we'd been using up till now, these weapons had not a mark on them. Evidently the barrier that had held them all this time had also prevented them from aging. We also cut up more timber from one of the weapon racks to carry back with us.

"I wonder who they were?" I asked after a while as we back tracked to where we'd taken the wrong turn.

Basch gazed thoughtfully ahead, ever alert. "I am no scholar, but the carvings on the walls were primarily Bangaa. I saw no other races depicted in all the artwork that I browsed so it lends to reason that it was their city."

"Bangaa?" I echoed, surprsied. "That's interesting. You never hear about a bangaa nation, but you see them almost everywhere you go. I always assumed they were just a plains people I guess."

"There is no guarantee that I'm right of course." Basch reminded me. "But it makes one wonder."

"Yeah." I trailed off, brooding. "Something really bad must have happened here."

"A tragedy, yes." Basch replied quietly.

I licked my lips, inhaling shakily. That rang too true. So why did it feel like the tragedy had not been resolved?

A voice breathed softly in my ear, tickling. I stopped short and glanced over my shoulder. The tunnel was empty and quiet, save for Basch's fading footsteps.

Please don't go...it seemed to say.

My chest tightened in a knot of indecision. I could very nearly have turned back right then had it not been for the distraction that materialized to my left an instant later. The skeleton had come out of nowhere. Its arrival chased away the peaceful, but troubled entity that had been there only a moment before.

I jumped sideways as it made a lightning thrust with its sword. The blade missed by mere inches and I went tumbling to the ground, eliciting a grunt as my bad shoulder hit first. I rolled back to my feet with my crossbow poised to fire and buried the bolt into the warrior's skull. It came off with a pop and the whole thing collapsed in a heap of lifeless bones, but not before releasing a disparaging cry.

I inhaled slowly with trembling hands, willing myself to be calm, and gave the bones a wide birth. My heart was still beating rapidly. I really had to be more careful or one of these times I'd be a second too late.

My mind was elsewhere when a hand suddenly reach out from behind me, grasping my right shoulder. I bit back a cry and whirled sharply, half expecting some awful re-representation of my dream to be looming behind me. Basch stood back from me, startled.

"Penelo," His brow furrowed suspiciously, "are you injured?"

My lips parted wordlessly. I made a face and cast a disregarding glance at the afore mentioned injury. "It's nothing." I maintained hastily. "It happened a couple days ago."

Judging by the shadow that seemed to cross his face, I guessed that Basch was not appeased by my answer. "And it bothers you still? I assume you must have tried to mend it."

"I-I did." I stammered, frustrated. "And it was fine after that. It's just a little sore--we should be getting back." I tried to walk past him, but Basch quickly barred my path with a hand on my left shoulder.

"Penelo," He drawled flatly, his eyes stern and unyielding, "Do not be foolish."

I sighed inwardly and avoided his gaze, shame-faced. It always had to be something, and it was always me at the center of it.

But he was right. I knew something was wrong and the longer it was allowed to fester the worse it would be when I finally got around to facing the music. The sooner the better. It might not be as bad as I was afraid too. Yet I was annoyed for some reason.

"What do you want me to do?" I exasperated loudly. "I've done everything that I know."

Basch sighed inwardly, "I will look at it when we reach camp."

I nodded solemnly. "I'm sorry."

I started walking again.

"What for?" Basch asked, taken aback.

"For making a mess of things." I answered

"You are not to blame." Basch stated firmly.

"You should've let me fall, you know." I muttered. "It's not like I'm needed." I broke into a jog to get ahead and didn't stop until I'd reached the sandy beach beyond camp. I sat down in resignation of having just behaved like a child, and gazed at the light shimmering off the surface of the lake, waiting. I skipped a stone across it, watching the ripples expand and disappear.

Stupid. I don't like this place. It makes me feel strange.

Everything seemed hopeless all of a sudden. There was a lot of pain in this place and it certainly wasn't all my own, but it had a terrible influence on my mood. What if we never made it out? What if we died down here? As much as the thought of my own death was frightening, I was bothered more by the idea that this place would never have its story told. I would be just another soul among the many already dwelling in the depths of this underground ruin, and no one would ever know the truth.

Footsteps came up behind me, slow and measured. He was afraid that I would bolt again, but I was all out of running.

Basch squatted down beside me. "That was not very prudent." He chastised with a dry smirk. His expression softened, "I will get us out of here and intact, I swear."

I frowned deeply, "I shouldn't have run off like. I don't know what's got into me."

"We are both at wits' end down here." He said. "The sooner we get out the better. But lets have a look at that shoulder first. I have a promise to keep."

"That means no amputation, right?" I inquired, smirking.

Basch chuckled and gave me a hand up. "Indeed not."

I sat myself down on a blanket back at camp while Basch knelt quietly to my right and gingerly pulled back my garment to see beneath. His eyes narrowed slightly as he examined it, tilting his head here and there for the best angle.

He brushed the surface of the wound with his fingers and I took in a hissing breath. Basch pulled back reflexively, "Does that hurt?"

I shook my head firmly. "It's just tender."

Basch nodded, understanding. He felt down my arm, gauging for signs of discomfort or pain, both of which he got. He made one last cursory check of the wound and then sat back on his heels, thinking.

I bit my lip, "So what's the diagnosis?"

He scowled slightly. "I'm not certain yet. What kind of weapon was it?"

"A spear." I answered. "I was on the ground when he struck."

Basch seemed to consider that seriously and then sighed, "Well, there is a poison at work for certain. However, it is not spreading yet."

"Oh." I said blankly. "Is that good or bad?"

"Good that the poison is not moving. Bad that all your attempts to remove it appear to have had no affect on it." He answered gravely. "The dragon root should have easily dealt with it."

My face lost some of its color and I swallowed nervously. "What do we do then?"

Basch stood up abruptly and skimmed the area with his eyes, searching. "I have an idea." He began, "but I need to verify it before I make a decision." He walked off then and left me sitting there, feeling suddenly very cold.

When he came back he was twirling a rusty old spear in one hand. He held the tip up to his eyes to examine it as he approached. That seemed to satisfy him and he squatted down in front of me, holding the spear point out for me to see.

"Look," He indicated the very tip, which was incidentally broken. "I believe that is our problem."

"The tip?" I asked, bewildered.

"Yes." Basch confirmed. "The poison is imbued in the metal of the broken tip that I suspect is still in your shoulder."

That made sense. I looked at him questioningly, "Are you going to have to remove it then?"

"It will have to be removed, yes." He answered slowly. "Assuming that I am right. But as the poison is not spreading, you could wait to have someone more qualified do it."

I lowered my head thoughtfully. That didn't seem like a good idea. It could start to spread at any time and there was no knowing how long the journey out would take us. There wasn't another human being alive that I'd trust more with my safety than Basch anyway. He was a veteran warrior who had seen more battle wounds than I could count and probably dealt with just as many by hand.

"Let's do it now." I declared.

"Are you certain?" Basch asked. "We are not especially equipped for surgery."

"I doubt you carried around a surgeon's kit when you fought in battles." I pointed out.

"That is true," Basch admitted, "but needless to say, it is a very painful process and I cannot say how long it will take. I would not harm you further."

I smiled. "I know. Just do it, ok? Before I change my mind."

Basch nodded solemnly. "Very well. I'll get what little I have."

He came back a moment later with a leather satchel in one hand and a large, menacing knife in the other. He must've noted my discomfort for as he knelt down in front of me he answered the question lingering in the back of my mind. "I need to cut away part of your blouse." He said.

"Ok." I answered.

That was all the large knife did. Once he'd finished with removing the loose pieces of fabric that were in the way, he produced a thick leather strap from the bag and handed it to me. "Between your teeth."

I eyed it skeptically for a moment before reluctantly sticking it in my mouth. It was dry and stiff, and tasteless for the most part. How many mouths had this been in? I suppose it could've been worse and I was definitely going to need it for what was to come.

Basch removed his tools and picked out a small blade designed for making careful incisions in the skin. My skin scrawled and I shivered involuntarily.

He caught my eye, "You do not have to do this."

I took a deep breath and shook my head.

Basch nodded. "Close your eyes and bite hard."

It was all I could do to not scream and pass out when the blade slowly cut through. The pain was dizzying and the poison festering underneath only served to inflame the wound. My head began to swim and I thought I was a gone for sure.

I forced my eyes open though and my mind cleared a little. I focused on watching Basch and the deadly calm concentration on his face as he worked. If I just ignored what he was doing I could stay relatively calm. The pain was still quite real, but it was manageable this way. I just kept biting with each slice of the knife.

Time passed agonizingly slow–every second was an effort to not break. Beads of sweat rolled down my face, my jaw ached from having been clenched so long and so hard, and I couldn't remember a time when there hadn't been pain. Blood drenched my clothes and Basch's both. His hands were shaking, yet he somehow remained astute through it.

There was no warning preceding the firm, sudden jerk as Basch removed the broken tip. My head and shoulder both exploded with searing white fire. I spit out the leather bit and screamed. A cold, soothing sensation sank into my shoulder and spread through my body from a healing spell, drawing out the most intense pain and leaving a dull ache.

I sagged forward, exhausted, right into Basch's open arms. My eyes opened wide and I sat back up sharply, shaking my head clear. The dizziness faded.

Basch held up the small, seemingly insignificant piece of metal that had just been removed, clasped between the tweezer tongs for me to see. He wore a triumphant smile. "Almost as good as new."

I managed a tired smile in return and that was all.

He gave me an affectionate clap on the arm, "I've known men who passed out under lesser circumstances." He said. "You are as brave a warrior as anyone to walk this earth."

I blushed and hid my face, wiping sweat from my brow. "Not really." I replied nonchallantly. "I fight from the back while everyone else is on the front line."

Basch looked at me squarely, "Bravery is not a matter of where you stand on the battle field, Penelo." He said, "Nor is it a product of age."

I grinned. "I'd still say you're the braver."

He chuckled at that and stood, straightening his legs with a slight wince, "But you are young while I am past my prime."

I launched to my feet abruptly, "That's not true at all!" I argued. "You're thirty if you're a day."

That made him laugh, but he did not look at me. "I'm flattered that you would think so. If anyone deems to capture that heart of yours, he would be a lucky man indeed. Now," He glanced around searchingly, "let's put that arm in a sling. The bone will not mend with spells alone."

"Will this work?" I retrieved the left over gauze that was hidden beneath my pillow, as well as the pillow's casing.

"Excellent." He answered. He ground up some more dragon root into a paste and applied it directly to the wound before placing a bandage over it. Then he commenced fastening a sling for my arm.

"I'll have to learn to fight left handed." I remarked jokingly as he finished up.

Basch stood back and examined his handiwork with a satisfied nod. He regarded me steadily, "You will stay behind me and provide spell cover." He corrected calmly.

I frowned. "But--"

Basch's brow flattened and he gave me the captain's eye, the one you don't cross or you're in big trouble. It was rather cute actually. He so rarely exercised any authority over us that he was out of practice, but we knew to take him seriously when he meant business.

I was preparing to submit to his wishes when the ground rumbled beneath us with a feral roar that was distinctly alive. Basch swayed, but stood his ground while I teetered about precariously from one foot to the other until a gracious hand reached out to steady me. Then the quake finally shuddered to a stop.

We exchanged a wary glance; an eerie silence fell like the calm before a storm.

Author's Notes: Well this was going to be a two part prologue, but it's now a three part prologue. It's taking a bit longer than I anticipated–hopefully all in good form. So, the little adventure through the caverns will be wrapped up in the next chapter. The rest of the story will take place 3 years in the future, starting in the fourth chapter.

Please feel free to leave some love. I would very much appreciate it. I was really excited about writing this, but it wasn't as well received as I hoped it would be and my confidence got a bit deflated. But, I have rough drafts finished for the next two chapters so if I'm motivated enough I should be able to get something going--emphasis on the "should". Sometimes things just don't click. I'm a procrastinator at times and I've read through this thing so many times that I'm sure it's crap, but such is the life of a writer.

Take care everyone and many thanks to those of you who have reviewed so far.