Halkegenia Online - Beach Episode Chapter 4

Ragdorian Lake, an icon of Tristain, the Kingdom of Water. Ragdorian Lake, life giver of rivers. Ragdorian Lake, landlocked jewel of aquatic beauty. Ragdorian Lake, home of the Water Spirits and their utopian city of the deep. Ragdorian Lake, the really damn big Lake!

That last one was Klein's own poetic addition, because sitting on the beach sipping beers all day while admiring the «Natural Beauty» by the lake shore sure hadn't prepared him for just how big it all really was. He hadn't actually thought about it at the time, but from the beach he hadn't been able to see the far shore, and from the air, after nearly fifteen minutes, Gallia was still a distant haze on the horizon.

Damn if it wasn't pretty though. His eyes wandered down towards the water, so blue it had almost gone black, and glittering in the refracted sun. From time to time he saw an island in the distance, or one passing by near below. The water would lighten near those little patches of land as the lake floor rose back up to the surface and Klein had a chance to make out what looked like some sort of colorful lake flora, like underwater forests.

"Oy, how about taking a dip in that?" Klein shouted loud enough to be heard by the other passengers atop the dragon. Well, one of them anyways. Blue hair whipping in the breeze, Shiune lifted a hand to her ear and smiled in that way that'd make your heart skip.

"It does look quite lovely!" The Undine called back. "Though I've heard the vibrant colors of the Lake Forest only come out where the water is quite cold!"

"There's also the Mobs to worry about nyah!" A third, slightly less welcome passenger added along with a Cheshire grin. "Might want to stick to the kiddy pool unless you're an Undine up for some competitive fishing sa, or you'll be fish bait in no time."

"Fish bait ba!" The Pixie tucked into Argo's cloak repeated. "For «Lake Dragons», and «Lilly Wing Fish», and «Sword Crabs», oh my chyaa!"

"But if that's not a problem for you . . ." Argo grinned wide enough to bare her little fangs. "I can give you a good deal on the Aquatic Survival Guide."

Klein squinted at the info broker, not sure whether he was more annoyed that she'd ruined the romantic mood he'd been trying to set up, or the fact that, of the three sorts of creatures Suisen had just mentioned, he wasn't sure which were Mobs and which were native Halkegenian wildlife. Actually, with that in mind . . .

"Oy, if the water around here's so dangerous, you sure we should be letting her do that?"

Her being the Imp Konno Yuuki and that being the way she was presently hurtling through the air on four violet wings, laughing like a maniac and seriously messing with the formation flying of the trio of Dragons.

"Yuuki-chan!" Silica called from her seat behind the Prince and the Montmorency girl on the leading wind drake.

"Come on Silica-chan. This is amazing!" The Imp laughed again as she contorted her wings to perform a dizzying corkscrew. "Between the water and the sky, I can't even tell up from down!"

"That's what I'm afraid of! And you're scaring the dragons!"

"I wouldn't fear, Miss Silica." Prince Wales assured like it was completely normal for someone to do something as insane as this. "These drakes are trained war mounts, they won't be put off by a girl fluttering in the breeze." That cavalier attitude was probably what Klein should have expected from a guy called the 'Prince Valiant' after all.

"Well, she's scaring Pina!" The munchkin girl insisted testily.

"Kyaa!"

"Don't encourage her!"

Klein looked back to Argo who could only offer a small shrug and a nod in their direction of travel. "The aquatic mobs usually can't fly. Or at least they usually can't fly very far." The Cait explained. "And the really nasty ones keep to the deep water since their job was to be «Border Guards»."

Right, monsters to keep players from wondering off the edge of the world. Klein thought about that one. On old maps, they used to draw dragons past the limits of the known world. Except Tristain already had those, plus lots of other nasty creatures, and now even more to boot. So when the explorers reached the edge of the known world, what would they draw? Klein suspected it'd probably give him nightmares.

"Besides, we're almost there." Argo pointed ahead to where Wales had set his dragon gently into an altitude bleeding curve that, in a few orbits, would bring them down on top of a small, kidney bean-shaped island quite conveniently placed at the boundary between a wide open expanse of shallows and a plunge into the abyssal depths.

From the sky, it looked pretty scenic if unremarkable, lush with evergreens except for a few small clearings, the sort of place you'd put an expensive vacation cabin on. Maybe a half kilometer across and only rising to a couple of dozen meters above the water, complete with its own pebbled beach overlooking a small bay. Okay, so if swimming was out, maybe they could get in some fishing later.

The Knights followed their Prince into his bank, the two fire drakes gliding down easily behind Wales' borrowed wind dragon to land on the largest stretch of open ground on the island, the beach, in a skidding trot. Klein got an early start, sliding off just before landing and hitting the beach on a flash of his wings.

Well that hadn't been so hard! "Look out bellow!" The Salamander was still thinking as he felt a pair of boots make firm and heavy contact with the back of his head, throwing him to the ground in a sprawl even as a familiar headache blossomed behind his eyes.

Yuuki cried out as she lighted onto the ground beside him and dropped to her hands and knees. "Klein-san are you okay? I didn't hurt you, did I?!"

'Don't let her see ya hurtin' Klein.' The Salamander forced a grin as he looked up from his face plant into the beach rocks. "Didn't even notice it, Little Sprite!" So yeah, he was chuckling, so why was Yuuki going pale . . . er. "Hey, little sprite?" Something hot was trickling down his forehead. For a minute Klein wasn't quite sure what until he wiped it with his fingers and they came away red. "Huh, oy, don't worry about it this is noth . . ."

"Wagh!" Yuuki grabbed onto his shoulders. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Klein, j-just hold on a sec, I've got some bandages in here somewhere!" She began to pat down the small collection of pouches hanging from her belt. Before Yuuki could get far, the lovely Miss Shiune made her appearance.

The Undine settled down beside the Imp girl, her sandaled feet barely disturbing the beach pebbles, like she was even lighter than she looked. She placed a hand down on Yuuki's shoulder, stilling the frantic girl and then leaning down to inspect Klein for herself. Really gorgeous blue eyes, the same gentle azure as her hair. The Salamander swallowed as he wondered just how ridiculous he looked at that exact moment as Shiune held his head steady with her hands.

When the bluenette spoke, she sounded relieved. "It's nothing more than a few abrasions from the rocks. Head cuts simply bleed a lot. Yuuki, give me your bandages and I'll take care of this."

"Un." Yuuki nodded quickly as she provided the handful of medical supplies from her belt. Couriers came pretty well equipped it seemed.

Blotting away the blood with some clean water and a handkerchief, the Undine nodded when she was at last satisfied. "Now hold still Klein-san." Shiune closed her eyes as she carefully placed her fingertips across Klein's scalp. "I'm not as good at this as Shouichi Sensei but a small scrape like this is no trouble."

"O-Okay so this is like . . . ah . . . ah . . . ahhhhhhhh . . ." Klein sighed as a blue glow spread from the palm of Shiune's hand at the prompting of a whispered chant, and a cool, numbing, tingle worked its way into his skin. That felt . . . really . . . nice.

"It's an enhanced basic level healing spell." Shiune explained as her hand fell aside and she blotted away a little more blood before taking the bandages to Klein's head. "Plenty of Undines know it, but most other factions never bother. There's more powerful magic they'd rather concentrate on as healers." There was that smile again. "I will agree, however, it is rather relaxing, isn't it?"

"I'll say."

"Sorry. Sorry." Yuuki kept up her nodding and apologizing as the Knights and Prince Wales got the dragons settled and the rest of the party gathered up on the beach.

"Heh, no harm done, Little Sprite." Klein told her again. He felt at the bandages Shiune had applied and then pulled his headband back down to cover them. "Besides it was half my fault not looking out, right?"

"I'll say." Came the dry answer at his back. And another unpleasant person arrived. "Honestly, how the hell did you survive two years in Aincrad again?"

Klein faced off against the smug leer of one Caramella, presently adjusting the sword carried on her back before planting hands on hips over him. "Oy, I'm a lot more impressive when I'm on the clock."

"Yeah?" Caramella cocked her head. "Cause right now you look like a tourist."

"And for once, you look like a woman." Actually wearing a dress and what have you!

"Bite me ya Lizard!"

"Now, now," Shiune interjected as she stood and brushed off her gown, like a mother scolding her little children, "No fighting you two." She turned and offered Klein a hand up which he eagerly accepted, mumbling a thank you and how it hadn't really been that big of a deal.

"Shiune-san, Yuuki-chan," Silica called from further up the beach, "There's something over here. Come take a look!"

"Those are the stairs to the mouth of the Spirit's Deepness." Montmorency said as she was helped down from her dragon by Prince Wales. "It's a place reserved for special negotiations with the Spirit."

"So it's like a shrine to the Water Kami?" Yuuki perked up. "Would it be okay for us to visit later?" Montmorency stopped and gave her a hard stare. "I meant," Yuuki spread her hands. "Uhm, I'd just like to see it, and maybe say thanks. To the Spirit that is. Even if it doesn't hear us, this is the Kami's beautiful home we've been enjoying, so I'd like to make the gesture."

The Montmorency corkscrew looked like she was giving the request some serious thought before she nodded. "You may go see for yourself so long as you do not disturb the waters there." The Little Sprite bowed and thanked her over and over again as she began to inch off in the direction of her Cait girl partner and Caramella's straw haired 'little brother'. They declared that they were going to 'reconnoiter' the island. What sort of kids even said something like that anyways? Shiune had followed after them at an unhurried pace, giving a little bow of thanks to the Water Mage as she passed.

In the end, it was Klein, Caramella, and Argo left on the beach with the two Knights, Prince Wales, and Montmorency. Just seven people and three dragons who didn't stick out at all like sore thumbs in the middle of an abandoned island. Klein kept up the smiling and waving act until the kids were a good ways down the beach and then only dropped it when he was sure they couldn't see.

Caramella was giving him that look when he caught her from the corner of his eye. "What?"

"Oh brother, could you be any more obvious?" The Nymph muttered and then blew a loose lock of her hair out of the way. "Why don't you just go break a leg next time." Her arms fell to her sides, one hand resting on her hip while the other planted itself on her thigh. "Anyways."

"Yeah." Klein grunted as they both turned to Wales and Montmorency. For once the two of them were in complete agreement. The moons must have aligned perfectly or something, the Salamander thought.

The Water Mage just scowled at them like they were the problem. Although, Klein winced, that might actually be true. At least the Prince had the decency to look sorry, especially after letting them in on this. "I can't apologize enough for taking you away from your well deserved rest." Wales plead. "But I can't say I'm not grateful for the extra eyes and extra heads to put together."

"Don't sweat it so much." The Prince was a pretty sincere kid, so Klein didn't really count it against him. Turned out Kirito had been right to be suspicious after all, but he'd also been smart enough not to wade into it. "Better us than hassling Kirito and Asuna." Knowing those two, they'd probably get to feeling obligated to help if it turned out that this problem was really caused by the Faeries.

"You know you could have said something sooner." Caramella agreed. "Instead of coming to us at the last minute like this."

"You Faeries invited yourselves into this." Montmorency muttered under her breath. She probably still hadn't quite figured out how good Faerie hearing really was. "We didn't come to you at all."

Well, this hadn't exactly been what Klein had been expecting either when he'd started snooping around. The whole thing had bugged him as much as it had been eating at Kirito the day before, and unlike the Spriggan, he didn't have a wife or even girlfriend to hold him back, so he'd gotten to talking with Argo. The Cait Syth hadn't spilled much until Wales had come looking for her, and with Caramella helping to leverage the Prince, the story had begun to come out.

The Montmorency clan was in a tight spot it sounded like. It was looking more and more like their pact with the Water Spirit of Ragdorian Lake was in danger of collapsing and then the family had gotten desperate enough to go to Queen Henrietta for help. There was no hiding that the family needed this badly. After the mismanaging of their pact by the past generations, and the disappearance of their reclamation project under a desert's worth of sand, the family really couldn't take another blow of the same magnitude.

That was why Wales had been hanging out getting some sun on the beach when they'd arrived, and unsurprisingly, it had also been the reason that Argo had been there. She really was at the lake side to study mobs like she'd said, she'd just neglected to mention she was looking into the Lake's Kami as well and how the mobs or some other facet of ALfheim might have been responsible for its recent silence.

It just so happened Miss Shiune had overheard Argo saying how useful it would be to have an Undine with them for her research, and after being told enough but not too much, had decided to volunteer herself. It wasn't supposed to be anything too dangerous, Argo had promised while marking out a very clear disclaimer around 'supposed to be'.

Undines had the unique ability of «Underwater Flight» which was to say they could move at great speed beneath the surface of the lake while using their specially adapted wings as well as their underwater breathing ability to explore the safety of the shallows. More importantly, Undines didn't automatically agro many of the aquatic mobs which might come in handy in Argo's mission to contact the «Nyriads».

Mentioning the possible danger of flying out into the lake hadn't done much to discourage Shiune, in fact, the delicate looking Water Faerie had never lost her placid demeanor. Well, if she was intent on going, Klein wasn't going to let her head out alone. And where Shiune went, Little Sprite wanted to follow, the small risk of danger just meaning «Adventure» in her bright eyes. Which also meant Silica tagging along with Kino hot on their tails. The three of them would probably be alright for this, the Salamander had to admit. Silica and Yuuki were couriers used to a little danger and Kino was downright battle tested and had a protective streak like a lapdog that would stand up to a lion.

"Again, our sincerest apologies." Wales looked like his fortitude had taken a serious hit with all the apologizing. "And our thanks for coming with us this far. I know you three can be trusted to act with discretion on behalf of Tristain and the Faerie Court."

"For what it's worth, we're knights, Blondie, we're supposed to come running when the Prince or Queen calls." Caramella rolled her eyes. "Besides, you get yourself into trouble if I leave you alone. That's why Henrietta made me promise to take care of you. She needs her boy-toy in one piece."

Montmorency had turned a particularly livid shade of red while Wales seemed as unfazed by this as anythingelse he'd ever heard coming out of the Nymph's mouth. "Then let us conduct ourselves as Knights in her Majesty's service. Miss Montmorency, we are under your guidance."

If the responsibility seemed like too much to Montmorency, she didn't show it. Klein actually had to take a step back and think hard about the fact that normal kids weren't like that. Or at least they shouldn't have to be. So why did Monmon have that look and determination that he only ever expected to see in the likes of Kirito and Asuna? He didn't really need to ask, he already knew the answer. Failure just wasn't an option.

"Trying to contact the Water Spirit by normal methods has failed to get results. That only really leaves the Spirit's Deepness. It's a cavern that plunges through this island down to the Spirit's home in the depths of the lake. If there is anyplace we will not fail to reach the Spirit, this would be it."

Seemed simple enough, so simple that Klein wondered why they were even needed until Argo spoke up. "Whether we reach the Spirit or not, tis a good place to keep an eye out for the Nyriads nyah. My contacts say the «Desert Zone» coast doesn't agree with them, so they migrated out here to the islands. Tis further from the land based mobs, and the shallows give them plenty of space to hunt sa."

Just as long as all they were doing was trying to spot them and contact the enigmatic aquatic mobs it shouldn't be too dangerous. There was that word again. Shouldn't.

"Admit it Klein." Caramella slapped him on the shoulder. "You really just want to see scantily clad mermaids."

"Oy oy, I guess that makes two of us."

"Then Miss Montmorency." Wales gestured inland towards the old trees and the stone carved steps that lead up to the center of the island. "By all means lead the way. Sir Thetcher, Sir Morison, keep watch on the dragons."


Stepping onto the first of the stone stairs was like stepping into another world. The trees were fast to close behind Montmorency and her party, hiding the beach and the sounds of the water, and making it almost trivial to forget this was an island. But not at all easy for the Water Mage to forget the gravity of where she was or what she was doing.

This was an ancient place said to sit atop a wellspring of primal magic. Even to senseless humans that fact was almost tangible in the air if one were merely to stop and take notice.

Montmorency had never been to this place before. Even when she'd been just a small child. Even the ritual by which the Spirit had been given a dram of her blood under the witness of her entire family had been performed safely from the Lakeside. To her knowledge, no Montmorency had dared to be so bold as to come to the Spirit's abode in over two generations. It was a privilege reserved for a time when her family's relationship with the Spirit had been much fairer.

But Father had permitted it. The family patriarch was insistent that every means be exhausted, and Montmorency, being the youngest, had been given the task of seeing it done. Having already had her confidence shaken once the night before, she rather hoped that she could be forgiven for not being in the best of spirits.

And to think she would be bringing Faeries into this place. Faeries who might well have been the cause of the Spirit's displeasure. And Faeries who were presently speaking so blithely about matters that they were farfrom qualified to understand.

Having heard such words from the varied Nobility in the past, words that spoke of no comprehension of nature or the Spirits, it was particularly irksome to hear from Fae who claimed connection to a faith which honored the Spirits of the Land. Though, credit where it was due, at least some of them had realized their deficiency and were making the effort to correct it. She supposed she could not have hoped for more.

"So just to get this straight here, the Water Spirit tisn't bound to Ragdorian Lake sa?" The cat eared and cat whiskered Faerie beside her asked with open interest and an open notebook in her hands.

Montmorency tilted her head, regarding the other girl carefully. Of course, there was no way to tell for certain, but it was possible that youthful Faerie face was the front of a being far older than herself. It would explain how she could seem so accomplished at such a young age.

Miss Argo, the Faerie 'Information Broker', Montmorency would have used the more broadly accepted term of 'Spy Master' but it would indeed seem that the Faerie term was the more accurate of the two. Though she was a Servant of the Crown with comparable standing to a junior Envoy, her role was both broader and in some ways more innocent than a spy.

Information had value, so the Faerie girl claimed, such information need not even be secret, simply disparate and disorganized. In fact, it was not far from the truth to say Miss Argo was less selling information, and more selling the insights of common sense. Which to Miss Argo's credit, thinking of a certain blond fool, was not nearly so common as Montmorency could have hoped.

Which lead Montmorency to consider if she should speak a word. As a 'Broker' of information, anything she said might be valuable enough to be sold. The family had many secrets tied to the Lake Spirit, secrets that she would never speak aloud. But it was Miss Argo's talent to seek out the words within words.

In the end, the Water Mage restrained her suspicions. The Faeries were allies of the Crown, officially her countrymen, and Miss Argo was in direct service to the Queen. If she could not trust an agent of the Crown, then who could she trust?

"Correct." Montmorency confirmed tersely. "The Spirit is not tied to any one location and can exist where so ever there is water for it to inhabit."

"Anyplace?" The Cait girl seemed very interested by this development. "So it could exist in a pool or a pot?"

"If absolutely necessary." Montmorency said. In fact, that was just how her family had set off down the path of so grievously offending the Spirit in the first place. "Though I believe it would find such an existence far from desirable and seek wider waters for its comfort."

Miss Argo made a few notes, ticking down her thoughts in Faerie script while her tiny assistant, perched on her shoulder, carefully read and consigned every word to her own prodigious memory. "What about flowing water like a river or a stream sa?"

"Those too, I suppose."

"Or underground, like in a well or . . ."

"Yes yes!" Montmorency frowned heavily as she almost lost her patience. "Those too. A Water Spirit may exist wherever there is water."

That seemed to silence Miss Argo at last. The girl walked along silently for several moments as her nose twitched and her eyes fell back over her notes. Her next question was asked in a conversational tone, so casual that Montmorency was almost left speechless.

"What about the water in a human body? Could the Spirit exist in that?"

A spirit . . . inhabiting a human body? Montmorency had to try to keep the squirming unease from showing. "I – I suppose . . ." Montmorency pulled at one of her ringlets as she answered carefully. "Not the Lake Spirit though, it has grown far too large to inhabit the water of a single body. But a lesser spirit might do so if the conditions were right." Or might come into existence within the waters of a body. "But I have no doubt that it would kill the host to take on such a thing." That was, if they were not already dead . . .

"Why would you wish to know?" Montmorency asked, doing her best to keep her voice sounding neutral and untroubled.

"No particular reason sa. Tis simply a follow up on a story I had heard passed around a while ago."

"We followed the rumors ba!" The little Pixie girl on her master's shoulder announced proudly. "The truth is in the legends chya. Like the Lover Ondine."

"Tis a popular legend in the North sa." Miss Argo mused with a wistful look in her eyes. "A Lover buried in a place of powerful magic, resurrected to seek out her love after many years."

"Tragedy always befalls in that legend." Montmorency pointed out quietly. Every version of the story ended badly in one way or another. "The dead cannot be returned to life, no matter the strength of magic or the purity of love." And beside that, as a direct descendant, she bore a particular distaste for such things.

It was just a filthy little rumor that had been spread by those jealous of the family when they had held wealth and power and favor with Royalty! With the fall of their fortunes, that lie had guttered out. The Nobility had lost interest in her family as soon as they had been brought low.

An old wives tale that few in the family would care to admit had ever been associated with them, but which they had all been told in secret at some time or another. A tale that verged entirely too close to the forbidden arts. The very thought would make anyone's skin crawl. To even suggest that their family line might have been birthed from . . .

Blessedly, the Faerie did not continue this line of inquiry, turning her attention to safer subjects and too absorbed in her notes and ledgers to notice Montmorency's sigh of relief. "So then sa, the Spirit can live in whatever body of water that's big enough, it just prefers having this whole lake to stretch out in."

"That isn't the only reason actually." Were that it was, dealings with the Spirits would be made so much more simple. But the Cait looked like she could sustain the interest, and it might even shed some light now. "While Ragdorian Lake is beloved by the Lake Spirit and home to it and its kin, it is not entirely for the same reasons that we humans appreciate it." They were nearly to the top of the steps, Montmorency could see the summit through the thinning trees. "Put simply, the Lake bed rests atop a Ley Line."

The Water Mage knew a sense of disappointment at the sight of the Faerie's blank expression. She had hoped that the Faeries would be less ignorant than commoners, but there was no helping it. And so Montmorency had found herself explaining.

"A Ley Line is a prevailing current of primal magic running beneath the earth. Where the lines near the surface they make attractive homes for the Spirits who benefit from their power." Montmorency said as if she was instructing a child before receiving another, more pleasant, surprise.

"I bet the Spirits get pretty upset if humans do anything to mess with the Ley Line's alignment sa."

"Why . . . yes." Montmorency shook her head. "But how did you know that?"

The Cait girl grinned back. "Twas a guess sa. We didn't have magic in our world, but we did have some of the ideas, interesting to see how some of them are close to the truth of this one. So people can affect these Ley Lines . . ."

The Fae had 'imagined' magic? Well of course they had, given their illusion game which had been at the heart of this mess. Montmorency recovered herself quickly. "Usually they can't. Most Ley Lines run leagues under the ground, and few human ventures could touch them. But Ragdorian Lake runs deep, and since the Ley Line is one that governs the element of water . . ."

"Flow in and out of Ragdorian Lake can make a difference." Argo finished with a thoughtful expression.

"Exactly." Montmorency agreed with a small grimace. "Just as we do with our fields and forests, the Spirit manages its Ley Line for its own benefit. For that reason, the Lake Spirit will tolerate only small forays into its domain. Humans are guests of the surface, we are permitted to fish from the shore and there are, or were, pacts to control the amount of water which could be taken or drained into the lake." It had been the mismanaging of those terms combined with the insult against the Spirit which had led to her family's downfall.

"Uhuh." That Caramel swordswoman nodded her head as she stretched arms behind her neck. "And I bet the rearrangement of the landscape and a desert showing up right next door hasn't bothered that Ley Line at all."

"A disrupted Ley Line could cause . . . problems." Montmorency agreed slowly. As they had in the past.

Those few families who had made pacts with the Spirits were reluctant to share wisdom among one another, but the details of some past occurrences were well known to all of them. The last great eruption of the Fire Dragon Mountains had occurred three hundred years ago when the Ley Line there had become perturbed.

Yet no such disaster had befallen Tristain in the wake of the Transition, and with the weight of events, an investigation had been long in the happening.

"Father probably intended to ask after the Lake Spirit about the state of the Ley Line so that he could advise her Majesty. As with Spirit Magic, Pentagon Elemental Magic cannot effect the Lines directly." Montmorency reasoned slowly. "It was when Father's call was not answered that we knew something was wrong." Stepping off of the stairs, the Water Mage awaited the others. "Something must have happened to the Spirit."

"Something connected to ALfheim." Miss Argo finished with a statement of the obvious.

The Salamander Knight, Sir Klein, stopped in place on the steps. "Oy what you're saying is some Mob hurt the Spirit? That'd have to be one hell of a «Boss» wouldn't it?"

"The Spirit's power is nearly absolute within its domain." The young Water Mage agreed. That was what had her so worried. "It's possible that a backlash from the Ley Line might have hurt it but . . ." If that were the case, they wouldn't need the Spirit to tell them something was wrong, the evidence would be immediately apparent on the surface. "In any case," Montmorency continued, "if the Spirit was badly injured, it would have retreated to its Deepness to recover."

She directed her party's attention to the humble structure atop the Island, little more than a stone ring surrounding a deep blue pool, like an immense well ten mails across. It was the only man made structure permitted within the borders of the lake.

"This cavern connects to the outer portions of the Deepness. If so ever my family needed desperately to communicate with the Water Spirit, we were to do it here." Under desperate circumstances indeed, she thought. The Spirit would not like to be disturbed, whatever its contract with her family might have been. She closed her eyes, as a Montmorency Daughter, it was her solemn duty to take that risk.

"Miss Montmorency." Prince Wales offered an encouraging whisper in her ear. Yes of course, she felt as her constitution buoyed, if the Prince Valiant could stand with her then she had no right to hesitate.

Marching out to the lip of the pool, she paused to look down into the deep, perfectly placid waters, and then after taking a single breath to brace herself, she held out her hand to repeat the ritual from the night before. Today there was no need for Robin to carry the blood out into the water. The Lake Spirit would detect her blood instantly if it touched upon this place.

Another press of the knife drew a thick bead of blood from the tip of her thumb. Then with a squeeze, that droplet fell, striking the water and rather than mixing, proceeded to fall though the surface like a leaded weight. The ripples of its passage died away quickly, the waters became once again still. All that was left was to wait.

The only sound was the wind, the rustling of tree branches, and the songs of birds.

And to wait.

The waters remained as smooth as glass, touched by neither the winds or wind swept debris.

And then wait.

This couldn't be happening. The thought broke Montmorency's resolve like a glass dashed against rock. This couldn't, couldn't be happening. The family would be ruined again, a third time in just two short generations. Father would be furious . . . They would call off the marriage agreement!

Montmorency only realized she hadn't been breathing when she began to feel faint.

A hand grabbed her by the shoulder, steadying her in place before she could begin to fall towards the water and not letting go as she sank slowly to the ground. She was very surprised to see that it was the rough and calloused hand of the Salamander who must have crossed the distance between them in a heartbeat when she had shown herself to be unsteady.

"Sir Klein?" Montmorency mumbled as she came to rest, hands braced on the ground in front of her and eyes fixed dully on the unmoving and unmoved water before her.

"Oy Monmon!" Sir Klein grunted. "Are you listening? Hey, are you alright?"

"Y-Yes . . . Yes I'm listening." She managed to recover her wits enough to say. Foolish, this falling down helpless would do no one any good. She accepted a hand back to her feet, tugging at her traveling cloak as she bought herself time to think.

"Miss Montmorency." Prince Wales stepped forward. "Then I presume contact with the Lake Spirit was not successful."

"It would have answered almost at once in this place." Montmorency asserted. Which meant something really had happened.

"I assume there are no other means of investigating the Spirit's lair." Wales frowned as he came to stand beside Sir Klein and gave Montmorency a worried looking over.

"Doesn't Shiune know «Water Breathing»?" Dame Caramel asked as she stood arms crossed. "If the Spirit won't come to us, why can't we go to it?"

Montmorency almost laughed. It would have been hysterical laughter. Force their way into the home of the Spirit?! "The Spirit would never tolerate a human in its home, and within its domain you would need to be a being of immense power to resist, much less survive." And if the Spirit was not answering, then what did that say of what had confronted it.

"Not to mention the Lake tis upwards of three kilometers deep sa." Miss Argo added. "«Water Breathing» might be better than scuba gear, but it won't protect you against the pressure. Faeries are tough, but not even Kii-bou could survive down there."

"A Water Mage could probably form an air bubble to explore the depths." Wales stroked his chin thoughtfully before seeming to discard the idea. "We cannot ask that of Miss Montmorency however. We would need to call in a Triangle from the military forces. Miss Montmorency, can you think of anything else?" She shook her head slowly. At the moment, nothing came to mind. "We can wait and try again. We should do that at least once." It would be a disservice to the rest of the family to give up so quickly, and she thought she might think of something in the meantime.

A short, shrill sound pierced the still air. It was immediately recognizable for what it was, a whistle, but no bird's whistle. "An alert call." Prince Wales frowned as he pulled his hands from his flying jacket.

"Must be Morison or Thetcher." Dame Caramel lifted a hand to her delicately pointed ears as the whistle came again. "That's the urgent return signal." She said.

Urgent return? Did that mean . . . "Mobs?" Montmorency asked. Had those strange creatures already managed to colonize this far out into the lake?

Wales answered as he turned in the direction of the steps. "We'll see. If it were any real trouble they'd be alerting us with a call to battle or an ambush warning."

For all of its 'urgency' the Prince did not appear terribly hurried. Although he permitted Dame Caramel and Sir Klein to fly ahead, Wales himself was satisfied to return to the beach at a swift jog. The whistle came again on the way back down, muted now by the trees, and this merely reassured the Prince. "They most certainly wouldn't be calling for us now if this turn of events meant imminent danger. They'd be too busy fighting."

And then upon reaching the beach, Montmorency saw for herself. Sir Thetcher and Sir Morison standing back from the shore, each with one hand on the noses of their anxious drakes and the other on the hilts of their swords.

Sir Klein and Dame Caramel standing close to the forest edge were past looking dumbstruck, neither had reached for their weapons, but they both looked ready. And Miss Shiune and the children spread out near the water, Shiune in fact standing in the surf, standing among others.

Montmorency sucked in a breath when she saw them clearly for herself. Of course, there had been stories of such creatures for the longest time, but no one, no one alive anyways, had ever claimed to have met one and been able to give any proof. Every account was hearsay, every description the retelling of a dream and no two alike.

Maybe they had always been figments, fantastical things imagined but never real in the same way that the Faeries had imagined magic before in their own world. Only now, those figments had finally been birthed into the world, given weight, and substance, and life of their own by Faerie Magic. An existence they used now to stand with warrior's poise knee deep in the water, a party a dozen strong wielding spears and tridents as they stood off from the Faeries, all but one who appeared to have just finished with Shiune.

"They're . . . mermaids." Montmorency whispered under her breath. And mermen she added for the benefit of the half dozen beings who stood tall, with broad, bare, and most definitely masculine chests.

"They're actually called «Nyriads»". Miss Argo explained with an undeniably intrigued note in her voice. "Although tis a subset of the «Mermaid» class."

A rather obvious observation, Montmorency thought as the 'mermaid' closest to Shiune noticed them and then turned back to the Undine for an explanation. At a distance, Montmorency couldn't hear any of what was said, and just when it would have been useful it seemed it was beyond the hearing of the Faeries with her as well.

Her explanation was coming to meet her, in any case, from out of the depths no less. The Nyriad had turned to its compatriots, offering its trident to one of the others and then following Shiune onto the shore. "Looks like we're going to get a chance to talk to them." Miss Argo murmured under her breath. "You said you were trained to communicate with the Lake Spirit sa? Think you can give it a try with them?"

The Water Mage nodded before she even realized what she was agreeing to. It was a disconcerting experience to say the least. Montmorency had been tutored by her family in how to be an envoy to the Lake Spirit, a faceless being, but this creature did have a face, one that was cool and emotionless, bored even as it raised its head regally. And unlike the Water Spirit, with the help of two strong legs, the Nyriad was perfectly at home on the land.

Its form was definitely female, there was no mistaking that in her state of dress, barely wearing more than a few scraps of form hugging leather, leather leggings, and leather arm guards, all a shade of tan only slightly deeper than her skin. There was far more of that smooth and glossy skin on display than there was leather preserving her modesty, and it left very little to be imagined.

Yes, Montmorency decided, the woman was definitely from humanoid stock, or more likely Faerie based on the elongated and rounded ears that folded back along her head, albeit more slender of build than some of the Fae she had seen flaunting themselves on the beach the day before.

A figure that could best be called lean, streamlined even, save for the necessity of wide hips to accommodate anchoring of the long, thick, and muscular tail that protruded from the base of her spine and terminated in a pale, translucent rudder fin that she took care not to drag though the beach stones. Tail and fin undulated and writhed with her gait, like she had lived her whole life using it to balance, and its effect was like an additional display of her light footed grace.

The woman's . . . dress . . . left little room for decoration, her only concessions to ornamentation a golden chain that hung off of her hips, and the countless colorful beads twisted in her hair. Her hair that shone and shimmered silver in the sun like the scales of fish and which gathered in a thick mane around her head before running its ways down her spine and tail like the dorsal scales of a Water Drake.

Montmorency swallowed as she looked up. The Nyriad couldn't have been more than a scarce few inches taller, but she carried herself with a natural grace and confidence that was almost impossible for Montmorency to believe, shoulders set squared and chest out, back arched so that when she breathed in the air, the narrow slits of closed gills opened minutely between the backs of her ribs. Her hands rested at her sides, fingers closed into fists.

The Nyriad gazed down at her with gray eyes. She gazed up at the Nyriad. Face to face, Montmorency wandered if dealing with the Lake Spirit wouldn't have been easier.

"Montmorency-san." Shiune came forward to break the ice between the two 'women'. "Let me please introduce you. This is Ianth, leader of this hunting group and wife of the clan chief."

Wife? Montmorency declined to ask how such a thing was possible. Was this Nyriad not one of the Mobs? How could she be a woman already married? The Undine didn't treat this development as strange at all, instead smiling kindly to the Nyriad woman as she completed the introductions of Montmorency and Prince Wales and explained that they were 'dwellers' of this new land.

Something about what had just been said bothered the Faerie 'Information Broker' too, causing her to still the swaying of her tail and tuck her chin back inside of her cloak. "Suisen? Ianth?"

"Right Nee-chan, she's . . ." The Pixie whispered something in her master's ear that Montmorency couldn't make out. Whatever it was had stolen some of the Cait's amusement and replaced it with a somber air. Miss Argo cast her eyes to Miss Shiune for an explanation. "So when did this development occur sa?"

"Sir Thetcher saw them in the water as they were coming ashore." The Undine answered. "Some of them approached me, I suppose because of my Race. They haven't made any aggressive moves, I think they're just surprised to find us here. I told them that you would want to talk." The Undine nodded to Montmorency and then to Wales.

"Thank you Miss Shiune," Prince Wales replied, "You've done us quite a favor."

Montmorency blinked away the strangely hypnotizing influence of the Nyriad's gray eyes and took a step forward, back straight. She gave a courtesy, regardless of how ridiculous it was to offer to a fish person who most certainly wouldn't understand the gesture. At first the Nyriad merely tilted her head, and then tucking her chin against her breast, she took hold of two fronds of light linen that formed a translucent patterned half skirt which covered the base of her tail, and gave a reasonable approximation of the gesture.

So they could understand courtesy, Montmorency thought, good that would mean . . . although she would have preferred that they understood the idea of personal space as well. No sooner had the greetings been completed then the Nyriad had moved in. For a creature which seemed cool and emotionless, face locked in that bored expression of contempt even now, she seemingly had the relentless curiosity of a child as she reached out, gently but insistently taking hold of Montmorency's hands with her own and comparing them.

Just as she'd suspected, the Nyriad's skin was as smooth and glossy as it looked, completely free of any hairs or follicles, and with a slick, vaguely 'gummy' texture which the Water Mage couldn't quite place but which wasn't unpleasant. More unpleasing was the strong scent of fresh fish that was carried on her every breath.

"G-Greetings . . ." Montmorency began as she tried to politely ignore the Nyriad's distracted prodding and fascination with her body. "I am Montmorency . . . Montmorency Margarita La Fère de Montmorency . . . On behalf of the Montmorency family and her Majesty our Great Queen Henrietta . . . oh Nyriad Ianth I come in peace . . ."

She swallowed again as the Nyriad stopped her playing with and comparison of their ears and hair. She seemed to be giving the words some thought before she stepped still closer to the Water Mage, so that they were pressed to one another now. Damp skin soaked the front of Montmorency's blouse as the Nyriad put both arms loosely around her waist and then nuzzled her head into the crook of her neck. A tingling sensation raced down the young mage's spine.

"Bluh . . . wha . . . wha . . . !" And with strong arms around her waist! These Nyriads were deviants! Just like the Fae they were deviants! The thought died as swiftly as it had been born as she was confronted by a voice. It was her own voice, and it seemed to echo about inside of her head, but not from any of her thoughts.

G-Greetings . . . She heard herself say . . . I am . . . Ianth . . . First in her own voice and then in Shiune's to deliver the name. Montmorency reached a hand to her own jaw, brushing through the Nyriad's long, stringy and almost slimy hair in the process. She could feel the vibrations, like a purr that was shared between the bone of the Nyriad's brow and those of her own jaw.

"Miss Montmorency?" Prince Wales tilted his head. "I suppose she is communicating with you?" The Prince inferred and received a nod to confirm his theory. "Most interesting."

"The Nyriad's must not have normal vocal cords sa." Argo muttered under her breath. "Their attack abilities are «Sonic» based . . . Tis it an adaption?"

Why did you . . . Come . . . Ragdorian Lake . . . Island . . . This Place . . . The voices spoke in turn, one after another, each different, as if they had been stitched together from a half dozen different conversations. It was strange, but almost pleasant in a way, a cascade of whispered words.

"Because this Island is home to the Spirit's Deepness." Montmorency said, grimacing as something occurred to her. If the Nyriads were inhabiting the waters here, it was more proof that something was deeply wrong. "And what business do you have here? What are your people doing at the Spirit's Deepness?!" Why were they even in the Lake?! Montmorency thought angrily, why were these stupid fish . . .

A disapproving sound rose from the Nyriad, a mix of clicks and high pitched whines that resolved into a another whispering series of voices. Not . . . Fish!

"I-I never meant to say . . . !"

Said . . . By . . . small . . . voice . . . Ianth whispered into her head. Of course, stupid, this was something like the thrown voice spell of Wind Magic, the Nyriad would be able to hear every sound that Montmorency made, even to herself. And now she might have leveled insult with her first words!

"Forgive me oh Ianth of the Nyriads. These are difficult times for my people and . . . I did not think about my words. I devalued them by speaking such things." Montmorency prayed the transgression would be forgiven. It either was, or Ianth did not overly care.

Exodus . . . Run . . . Crescent Bay . . . Not safe . . . follow the rivers downstream . . . But . . . Hunters . . . attack my friends . . . Day at the beach . . . three . . . clan . . . badly injured . . . Came . . . here . . . Island . . . safe zone . . .

"What is she saying?" Wales asked, making no threatening moves, and keeping his voice low and level.

"She says that her clan came from the Crescent Lake by way of the marsh and river. They came to this island because they were attacked by hunters closer to the coast." Montmorency repeated. The purrs rising from Ianth grew deeper and were joined by more of her pleased clicks and whines.

Island . . . safe zone . . . good hunting . . . shallows safe . . . treasures and ruins . . . salvaging . . . good place. Must . . . Lead the way! . . . Until . . . Love . . . Returns . . .

Love? Montmorency realized, she meant her husband! But could a Mob have such a thing? The Faeries had been real people before, they'd simply been enshrined in new bodies by the Transition. But Ianth was just an illusion wasn't she? Strange, Montmorency thought, but she had not noticed the simple golden ring that Ianth wore on her finger until that moment.

Love . . . left behind . . . Four . . . moon . . . seasons . . . a long time ago . . . Before . . . new moon . . .

Four moon seasons? Four cycles of the moons. And before the new moon. Then that would mean since the Transition. But then . . . Montmorency silenced that thought. She didn't trust that she wouldn't sub vocalize those words. When she looked up, Ianth's face was still set in its mask of contempt, but her eyes told a different story.

'Worrying for her love.'

Gray eyes that looked so unspeakably sad in a face locked in that rigid expression. Montmorency couldn't help but reach out, touching two fingers to the Nyriad's cheek to confirm her suspicion. A face was a wonderful thing, it told so many stories, and was a bridge between oneself and others. But although Ianth's face was beautiful, Montmorency's fingers were met not by pliant flesh as she'd have expected, but by something rigid and tough, with all the expression of a mask. Those pained gray eyes were locked in that prison of a face. It made Ianth seem so lonely . . .

"I'm sorry . . . but I don't know about the whereabouts of your husband . . . you're the first Nyriad I've ever met. I only even heard of you a few days ago."

The Nyriad allowed Montmorency's touch for a moment more and then took her hand firmly by the wrist and pushed it away so that she could. Why did you come? . . . Island . . . this one is too small! . . . It's too far! . . . Why? . . . Island . . . here?

"We came to this lake humbly seeking audience with its Guardian Spirit." She explained. "I seek the Spirit's whereabouts. Its Home lies in the depths below this island. Please, Miss Ianth, if you know anything, please tell us."

The Nyriad cocked her head appraisingly, bright intelligent eyes glittered as the words were understood and she cast her gaze back to the others on the beach. What followed was a rapid fire mixture of clicks, whines, and whistles that would have made Montmorency's head ache if it had gone on for long. When Ianth turned back, she spoke first in her own parroted voice.

I'm sorry . . . but I don't know . . . deep water . . . dangerous . . . stay away . . . strange . . . lights in the dark . . . twinkling stars . . . we do not go there . . .

No doubt the Nyriads had experienced quite enough surprises, Montmorency thought to herself, forgetting that Ianth still nuzzled her neck.

No . . . know . . . is dangerous . . . know . . . why . . . The Mob's frame grew stiff and agitated . . . Deep water . . . home . . . to . . . Her Majesty . . .


The annoying thing about questions was that they tended to get answered in the form of more questions. Part of why Argo had decided long ago to be satisfied with «Information» rather than questing for answers was that it would have driven her insane not getting results. A question might not always have an answer, but it always contained information, another piece of a bigger puzzle. Get enough of those pieces together and . . . you still might not have an answer, she admitted . . . but it might be enough to make out a fuzzy picture of what was really going on.

So, the Cait pulled her cloak close over her ears as the wind batted lightly at her cheeks, just what was really going on?

Question one, what had happened to the Spirit? It wasn't talking to anyone, even its appointed emissaries.

Question two, did ALfheim have something to do with it? The Spirit had been contacted occasionally in the past and then not at all since the Transition. That was pretty damning either way.

Question three, who was 'Her Majesty'? The Nyriads had been less than forthcoming in their explanations. Their means of communication didn't help things much either, but it sounded like they were referencing someone or something that had existed in ALO. Possibly a «Boss» or a «Quest Giver». Argo had already made a note to ask her contacts in Gaddan, some of the other brokers might be able to point her in the right direction.

Question four, did 'Her Majesty' have something to do with the Spirit's disappearance? The Spirit was supposed to be incredibly powerful within its domain, a simple «Boss» shouldn't have given it too much trouble. And yet . . .

The information broker turned Crown Agent shook her head. Just what sort of picture was this painting?

Argo cast her gaze down towards the overflying shallows. It had been closer to sunset than noon by the time that the dragons had lifted back off into the sky, serpentine forms gliding on measured beats of their broad, powerful wings. To her left, the sun was casting rays of shimmering light across the Lake's surface, forming a path ever westward toward the horizon.

The view was spoiled a little by the company, however, as Argo had found herself returning to shore while sharing a saddle with Prince Wales and Miss Montmorency. Prince was fine as usual, it was the Corkscrew that had the Cait worried.

Montmorency had more reasons than most to hate Faeries, or at least to not care too much for them or the denizens of ALfheim at large after what the Transition had done to her family's lands. Argo had expected working with her to be more like working around her, but the Noble girl had managed to be a surprisingly polite companion so far. Either she was really good at hiding her true feelings, or she genuinely didn't hold the circumstances too much against the Fae.

That didn't mean working with her had been easy, however, just not impossible. The bouts of stress induced passive aggression sure hadn't helped. But now, worryingly, even those were gone in the wake of her visit to the Spirit's Deepness. Montmorency had gone deathly quiet, and not just the talking, everything about her was subdued as they flew. Reading between the lines, Argo didn't care for what she was seeing.

Now might have been a good time to slip off and stretch her wings . . .

"Why so glum chya?"

Or she could just let Suisen break the ice as the Pixie stuck her head out from the warmth and safety of the nest inside her 'Nee-chan's' cloak. Argo wasn't exactly sure how a person the size of a rodent could make her voice carry like that, but somehow, Suisen always managed to make herself heard when she had something to say.

Montmorency looked up as if she had been lost in a daze. Her expression was painfully melancholic. "Miss Argo . . ." She sounded so beaten that the Cait couldn't help but cringe. Today might not have been as productive as she'd hoped, but for Montmorency it had been an outright disaster.

Between speaking with the Nyriads and exploring the island, Montmorency had tried two more times to contact the Lake Spirit. The results had been the same as the first. Nothing. It had taken Montmorency a while to calm herself down after each failure.

Of course, the Nyriads didn't know anything, or they claimed not to anyways. Argo grimaced and buried her chin in her cloak. Was she really becoming that paranoid now? There was nothing in ALfheim's lore that suggested the Nyriads were particularly powerful as mobs went, definitely not powerful enough to bring down something that ruled all of Ragdorian Lake. Or that they would be malicious beyond simply attacking Faeries that intruded on their domain. Maybe it was those unmoving faces? Someone must have gotten lazy with the facial animations. It made them all look like they were hiding something.

"Mon-chan." Argo called over her back. "Listen up, I know a guy in Gaddan who might be able to get us some info on whatever is living down in the Lake. This region, tis his area of expertise sa. Once we know more we can plan our next move. Okay?" It wasn't much, but it was the best that could be done for now.

Montmorency had just nodded her head and gone back into her own quiet little world for a while.

"Nee-chan?" Suisen tugged at her hair beneath her cloak.

"She'll be fine sa." Argo spared another glance over her shoulder. She'd probably be fine, she corrected.

"I suppose I shall need to send a report back to father. He and mother are in the Capital at the moment." Montmorency's voice trailed again, and then she added, "Also, I should think it would be wise to speak with the Nyriads again once we learn what we can in the city, and also, on the matter of Ianth . . ."

Argo closed her eyes, she'd known this might come up, but she'd been hoping it wouldn't. She'd really reallybeen hoping it wouldn't. Not because she was afraid of it, but because, well, even having all of the information, there really wasn't a good solution to this one.

"Miss Argo, Miss Ianth was most helpful today, would it be possible for you to use your contacts on her behalf and . . . well . . ."

"Tis not a good idea sa." Argo said quietly and without a hint of the cynical humor she preferred to display. "Here's some free information. Mon-chan . . . you would be better off not saying or asking Ianth anything about her husband. Tis better for both of you that way."

The water mage girl's eyes widened as she caught on and a look of dread overtook her. "He's dead . . . isn't he . . ."

"Tis complicated." Argo sighed and gave their driver a dirty glance, but Wales seemed to be bowing out of this one, leaving her with the difficult task of explaining to Montmorency. "Mon-chan . . . Ianth . . . Ianth tis special sa. People knew who she was even in ALO." That got the mage girl's attention.

Though Argo couldn't say why she had come into existence when almost all of the other NPCs had not. Was it because of her unique status as a «Mob» as well as a scripted NPC? Sometimes the Transition seemed to have acted almost on a whim. Another one of those questions with a useful tidbit of attached information.

"Ianth twas a special sort of NPC called a «Quest Giver». Her Quest was called . . . «Recover the Mermaid's Momento» . . . Its completion required Faeries to retrieve an item from an underwater dungeon." She took a breath. "Twas a gold wedding ring taken from a defeated aquatic boss «Ballas the Mad Angler»." She let those words settle.

"Then he really is dead." The Water Mage said with a dull and empty voice.

Montmorency's expression, Argo had seen it before, so many times since SAO, that unpleasant mix of anger, confusion and hurt when just one emotion didn't express all of the awful feelings twisting around inside and so you just wanted to reject all of them.

"Tis more complicated than that." Argo asserted. "Quests were designed to be played over and over again. Twas just an illusion after all, lots of people would want to complete the quest for its prize. But nobody has ever managed to save Ianth's husband, and nobody has ever found his body either." The scenario had been played out dozens of times with every potential combination of hidden flags that the players could dream up and the result had always been the same with no sign of Ianth's husband, just his wedding ring.

"Tis possible that he is always meant to be dead. Or else . . . Tis possible that he never existed in the first place . . ." If he had, or if he was still alive, wouldn't he have come for Ianth by now? The Nyriads had spread themselves out along the waterways from Orlein's now «Crescent Lake» all the way down to Ragdorian, and from Ianth's own words they communicated with one another. He would have found his way after four months.

Why would the Transition waste energy on a corpse or on a man who didn't exist and didn't need to exist? Beyond a very few hard guidelines and a few more vague ones, the Transition had been unpredictable like that, sometimes fleshing out vast stretches of the world and memories of the Mobs from unused code, game lore, and snatches of flavor text, and sometimes leaving it bare.

Even knowing that, Argo couldn't just make other people believe it, and Montmorency wasn't taking it easily. "No . . . But . . . Ianth . . . She seemed so real . . ." Looking back, she'd seemingly taken an unusual interest in Ianth from the very start, more than just as the Nyriads' spokeswoman.

"She tis real sa." Argo said softly, even as she reluctantly lowered her cloak to look Montmorency full in the face. "Don't forget that, ever! Ianth may never have truly met him in this world, but her love for that person does exist. Should you tell her that he died . . ." Or was it better for Ianth to come to the conclusion that he would not be coming back for herself? She could live on that way, even if it would be painful. " . . . The Pixies haven't reacted well when we try to tell them the Truth." Something about their memories, it upset them, so much so that it had become a courtesy to just not mention it around the tiny girls.

Suisen rested her weight silently against Argo's cheek. Well, present company excluded. The 'Nav' Pixies, for whatever reason, seemed to be exempt from that rule. Maybe it was their lack of «game lore» or maybe because of their close connection to the players and ALO's player menu and inventory system, but Navigation Pixies seemed to be far more aware and accepting of the fact that ALfheim had been a false reality. Or maybe they were just more trusting. Suisen still tended to hang on her every word and accept anything said by her 'Nee-chan' as complete truth.

"But that's . . . it's not fair." Montmorency whispered. "That's not how love should be . . . No . . . Not something fake like that." She looked up. "What if you're wrong? What if he is out there somewhere?!"

"Maybe. Tis always possible that I'm lacking information. The truth is, I hope I'm wrong too." It was something that Argo herself found pretty far from palatable as a matter of fact. "But if you care enough to ask, you should care enough to think really hard before you decide how to proceed. Neither of us has the right to give Ianth false hope sa."

She left Montmorency to her thoughts as their ride swooped in over the coast and drifted back down towards the outpost by the lake shore. Mon-chan could have some time to think about things, it wasn't like she didn't have more than enough on her plate without taking on other people's troubles.

Speaking of other people's troubles, Argo spied with her little eyes, someone who was black haired and someone who was chestnut, and neither of them looked at all happy. Not good. An unhappy Aa-chan and Kii-bou were an Aa-chan and Kii-bou that might do something uncharacteristically stupid.

"Oy, Kirito!" Klein waved as dropped out of the sky, careful this time only to land after Yuuki had made her descent. "Looking good, uhm . . ." The Salamander stopped as both Aincrad's Black Swordsman and the White Flash passed him by without a word, followed closely by Yui, and another little blonde girl unhappily clutching something small and squirming to her chest and making a beeline for Argo herself.

"Hey Aa-chan? Kii-bou?"

"Argo-san." Asuna answered shortly. There was a look in her eyes that set off alarms bells even before Kii-bou spoke.

"There's something we need you to take a look at actually." And now Kii-bou was actually sounding reluctant!

Argo hid the way she looked closely at her friends, trying to snoop out any hint of why they'd seemingly been waiting for her return. Which was probably why she'd missed an important detail until the blonde girl, one of Yui's little friends, was prodded forward by Yui to offer her squirming package, holding the unspeakably bizarre little creature out at arms length while she wrinkled her nose.

"We need all of the information you have on this. Please." Kirito crossed his arms and nodded to the Mob in the Sylph girl's hands. "We also want know every scrap of lore about . . ."

"Titania!" The little ball of warm smoldering coal cocked its broad, flat little head to Asuna and then back to Argo. "Titania! This! Who?"

"This is Argo." Asuna told the little Djinn coldly. Suddenly, Aa-chan's expression softened and she seemed ashamed. "She's a friend, Djinn-san." She said more gently. "You don't have anything to fear from her."

"Argo?" The Djinn chirped in its little high pitched voice. "Friend? Okay! Argo! Friend! Play?"

Argo stared blankly at the ugly little blob, like someone had put together a living creature out of a toad, a plucked chicken, and a lump of coal, with its only beauty in the form of its gem-like eyes. It should have been hideous, but somehow it contrived to be sort of cute, if you tilted your head and squinted . . . a lot.

Kii-bou grimaced in that way that said he really didn't want to deal with this right now.

Asuna just looked away, quietly, angrily.

There was a story to that, and Argo had a feeling she was going to find out as she reached out and accepted the little creature into her hands. Warm and strangely goopy body, like fresh tar. "You know Kii-bou." Argo snarked. "You always bring me the most interesting things sa."