Tada! Thanks for making it this far. I hope you're enjoying the story up to now, and I hope even more that you continue to enjoy it with this new chapter!

"Mortals are not heroes. Ridiculous, tiny creatures who turn on each other at the slightest provocation; who strain against their own limits and defy true authority. You deny your past, squander your present, and rush headlong into your future, heedless of its consequences. You are small. You are weak. You have wreaked your havoc under the impotent rule of false gods—for long enough. Now, the throne once more belongs to one worthy. I have seen what you did; I know what you fancy yourselves. But I will be the mirror and show you each flaw in your image. You have played without proper rules for too many milennia. For you, time is fleeting. For me, it is, was, and will be unchanged and still.

"You are doomed only to repeat the same mistakes, and now, mortal life will reap the consequences for the greatest mistake it ever made. And you, hero, will stand alone for all Eternity."

When he came to, it was with a jolt, like his mind had just landed back in his body with an audible crash. The first thing that registered, though, was bitter, frigid cold, and his eyes flew open with a rush of leftover adrenaline.

Regal was on his feet, but he noticed immediately that he was shin-deep in snow. The world was dark, shades of grey and dingey white. Wind beat at him and pummeled his face with sharp little needles of ice. Barring his arm across his face and trying to shield it from the worst of the blizzard, he twisted this way, then that—but all he could see, far from the crowded, grassy plain of the Tower ruins, was an endless field of snow. But what made his heart pound so loudly was the realization that he was alone.

Where were the others?

Where was Raine?

Feeling his fingers growing numb, he brought his hands to his mouth and blew on them while he took in the surroundings and tried to set his racing thoughts in some sort of order. He had to be somewhere near Flanoir; nowhere else could get this impossibly cold. If he could get his bearings, he could head for the city. He needed shelter first thing. Even Celsius' cave would have been better than this storm. The problem, however, was that with not even a star visible in the sky, getting his bearings would be...problematic. But he had to try. He had to know what had happened. So, lowering his head against the biting wind, he picked a direction and just started to trudge.

It was brutal, and with no end in sight, every step through the snow felt heavier. He was shivering like mad from head to toe, and he didn't even know how long he had been walking. His thoughts were starting to fuzz and blur, his energy just seeping out. He wasn't going to last, and the one clinging shred of clarity he had knew it.

He couldn't give up.

Step.

She was depending on him.

Step, step.

The baby...

Step...

Thud.

The wetness seeping into his trousers spread to his knees as he dropped to them in the snow. His head hung, and it was hard to breathe. He couldn't feel half of his body anymore. He was fighting, still fighting—but he was losing. "Raine," he whispered, though the words were taken by the wind. "...I'm sorry."

The worst part was that he didn't even know where she was or if she was safe. It was his one and only job, to protect her, and he would never know what happened. He would never meet his child. He would never be able to say goodbye...

"Taela! Oma sun vriel, rada!" shouted a distant voice, hitting his ears and filtering through the haze as if through miles of water. Though his eyelids were heavy, he forced them open, turning his head toward the female form running toward him. A person... A stranger, but it was a person.

Regal tried to open his mouth to say something, but he couldn't quite draw the breath required. His hands were the only things keeping him from falling over entirely, but his arms shook; his balance was going, too.

"Rada! Rada!" she called again, and he blinked blearily at several more blurry forms joined the first. The woman crouched next to him and reached out. "Hey. You're okay. You're all right. We'll get you—Goddess M...What...the hell..."

When he lifted his head to meet the eyes of this potential savior, the only feature visible from beneath a heavy cloth mask and hat, the expression in them was startlingly intense. She stared at him openly, searching his own face. Her hand on his shoulder tightened its grip, though he could barely feel it, and there was a moment of silence before he shuddered again and nearly fell over. This seemed to shock her back into her right mind, and she twisted to beckon the others. "Rada, sume, sume."

These unfamiliar words just spilled from the mouths of all of the strangers, becoming a blur of noise unpleasantly similar to the effect of Eternity's witchcraft. He tried to block them out of his aching head, but luckily he was distracted when he felt both of his arms lifted and his body hoisted to its frozen feet, supported by one person on either side. Regal tried to keep his eyes open when they started dragging him along, but eventually he gave up trying to see where they were going and focused what remained of his energy on doing his best to help propel himself forward.

He didn't even realize they had reached a door until it hissed open, and warm air rushed to punch him right across the face.

Regal staggered one more step into the room and fell against the nearest wall. He did his best not to just crumple into a heap, but sliding down to the floor, hugging himself tightly around the middle and shaking like an autumn leaf, wasn't much better. Still, clinging to his consciousness, he finally managed a shaky, "Who?"

Unfortunately, he seemed to be largely ignored as the woman barked a few more orders. The others with her scattered and disappeared from this...foyer, or wherever they were, and only when they were alone did the woman turn slowly back toward him. He squinted up at her against the artificial lights and his own watery eyes, and she was once more staring at him.

Distractedly, she pulled the mask down from her nose and mouth and then lowered into a crouch there a few feet in front of him. It could have been his foggy mind, but he could swear there was a shadow of a smile there on her youthful face.

"It's...really you." She shook her head vaguely and pulled off her hat to let short brown hair fall back into place around her astonished face. The expression she wore was unnerving to him, though, and he tried to brace himself against the wall to get back up.

Unsuccessfully.

Regal flinched as he fell back to the ground, but hoarsely, he asked a cautious, "Do I know you?"

She blinked, looking a bit taken aback. "Oh..." She actually sounded disappointed, deepening the crease in his brow. "I...I guess not. Not yet, anyway..." The young woman pushed back to her feet and bit down on her lip, tapping her fingers restlessly against her thigh. "Let's see... Umm..." From within her shirt, she drew out a very familiar silver key strung on a thing black cord and began to fiddle with it. The sight made his already pounding heart leap.

"Where did you get that?" he demanded, nerves and anger joining unease. This time he did shove himself up at least partially now that the burning of returning circulation had taken the place of numbness.

Another person passed through a door he hadn't even noticed, carrying a blanket. He handed this to the young woman, who nodded. "Fendan," she murmured. Before he left, though, she tapped his shoulder with the back of her hand. "Find Chava." This she spoke in a language he actually understood, but the name was still unfamiliar. "She's...gonna want to see this." He returned his nod and took his leave again, but while she came forward to offer the blanket, Regal summoned his strength and reached out to grasp the wrist of the hand still playing with the key.

"Who are you, and where did you get that?" His voice was low and dangerous. He was tired of being ignored; tired of no explanations, and if she had that, then Raine couldn't be far. It was hers; he had given it to her two years before, and she wore it every day. Sometimes beneath her shirt, sometimes mindlessly, but every day—and now it was a plaything for this stranger, and he still had no idea where his wife was. "Why do you have it? Where is she?"

"Hey, relax. You're safe now. ...Well, relatively speaking, I guess." She shook her head, then paused and looked from him to the key and back when she finally seemed to hear his most pressing questions. "...Wait. 'Where is she'?" she echoed, a tiny edge of excitement creeping into her voice, much to his unease. She shuffled a little closer, not even appearing to care that he was holding so tightly to her. He did release her and even shrank back as much as he could, eyeing her through a glower. "Is that what you said?"

"Indeed," was his warning reply. "Where is Raine? That necklace belongs to her; I want you to tell me where you acquired it."

Here she looked not intimidated nor smug, nor defensive—not even confused. Instead, she actually looked relieved. "Oh, good," she sighed. "That name means something to you."

Anger spiked at the continued trend of being effectively ignored, fueled by the growing concern. "'That name' means everything to me."

A smile split her face, and she rose back to her feet. "Even better. Okay. Good. I mean, you didn't say anything when I mentioned Chava, so I wasn't really sure. And of course, who knows what Eternity managed to change along the way. Although I guess you do have a ring on your finger, don't you? Yeah, that would probably have been a good clue."

By now his head was swimming. She knew about Eternity, whoever she was, but she appeared to be following what seemed to him to be a very disjointed stream of consciousness in her own little world. He couldn't follow it, wasn't sure he wanted to, but he was getting nowhere. One thing was obvious, however: She knew more than he did, and he was tired of the disadvantage. Tired of not knowing. Tired of not getting answers. Tired of this child, these unknown people, the anxiety twisting his insides into knots. Raine's necklace, his wife's necklace, on a stranger who spoke with seemingly intimate knowledge of them both; Eternity's name spoken with such casualness; what looked, now that he could manage to look around and acknowledge his surroundings, remarkably like a Renegade base with no Renegades—

Wait. Renegades? He peered up at the woman still smiling that unnervingly fond smile. She didn't look like the Renegades he remembered, but those he remembered had been mostly dressed as Desians at the time. If these people were Renegades, that would mean the Flanoir base. Renegades...meant Yuan. Yuan was someone he knew, and if anyone knew the mischief plaguing the world now, it would be the angel. It might have been a long shot, but it was his best bet right now.

"Enough," he finally declared, privately pleased that his voice had recovered and he could sound more authoratative once more. He even managed to get to his feet and reach out, grabbing the key and snapping the cord to remove it from around her neck. "If I am correct, then being where we are suggests that you answer to Yuan even now." She opened her mouth to speak, but Regal cut her off. "It is painfully apparent that you have no inclination whatsoever toward answering any of my questions. Therefore, in the interest of expediting this affair, I want to speak with him."

She puffed out her cheeks and nodded thoughtfully. "That's probably a good idea," she agreed, completely oblivious to the eyebrow he cocked in her direction. "He does tend to get cranky when people don't tell him things, and this is, uh... This is a pretty big thing. Lots of people here are going to want to talk to you, I think." She paused, and her voice lowered. "...Lots of people here thought they'd never get to talk to you again. I know this is technically really bad and needs to be fixed, but for once, I might just have to thank Her Majesty out there."

The hiss of the door brought both of their attention toward it, and at last he let himself feel some measure of relief at the prospect of not being alone with this unsettling girl. He even dared to hope it might be Yuan himself arriving with that uncanny sense of timing he seemed to possess—but the person who entered the room was certainly not him. The hair was quite the wrong shade of blue, reminding him much more of his own reflection, and the figure belonged to a tall, slender young woman. Frustration swirled in his chest again, and he kneaded his forehead.

Another person he would have to go through, it seemed.

With a shake of his head at the floor, Regal dropped his hand back to his side, squared his posture and set his jaw once more, and looked directly at the newcomer, whom he assumed to be the—Chava, wasn't it?—mentioned before.

Adrenaline shot through his body on the leap of his heart. All of the demands died on his lips, and he had to bite back the impulse to say Raine's name in their place when he actually met the second woman's gaze. Blue eyes that, like her long hair, reminded him of his own—but they were staring at him from a face that was eerily familiar for a different reason, and he actually blinked several times to clear his obviously flawed vision. But it didn't fade, didn't change. He was looking right at the spitting image of his wife. It wasn't her; it was someone else's body, someone else's bewildered expression, but it was her face.

Where was he?