Author's Note: Not much for me to say.. except that I hope this chapter isn't too long-winded. The next chapter will be another huge one... Four more chapters to go, I hope! I've been surviving on five hours of sleep each day working on this fic. T.T Do inform me if you spot any mistakes or inconsistencies.. Power Stone doesn't belong to me.

Sunlight slanted in through the round window, dancing off the ends of the two bunk beds in the dim cabin. Unlike the sounds of a waking populace throughout the ship, it was quiet in the room, with only a soft set of breathing that was hardly audible. Of the two beds in the cabin, only one had been slept in through the entire journey; the other sat neatly made, an incriminating fact in and of itself. Sheets enveloped the sole slumbering figure in the room.

Rouge stirred, distantly growing aware of her surroundings. Memories of the previous day swirled and gathered at the surface of her consciousness. There were flashbacks of pirates, fear and Ryoma, and of these, the imageries of the samurai were undoubtedly the most welcome. They had slept with each other. More importantly, she had taken his virginity. Rouge could still recall the warm caress of his skin, the softness of his lips, the thick length of his flesh. Her hand slipped to the juncture of her legs, savouring the thought that Ryoma had been there. The anticipation he had built in her through the past week had not been for naught; she had thoroughly approved of his body in the past night's torrid coupling.

It was, thus, starkly obvious that the tantalizing male heat was no longer next to her this morning. Fabric whispered across her bare skin when she turned on her single bed, suddenly spacious. The luxuriant feel of her calves brushing together, arms smoothing over her breasts, sent a shiver of delight up her spine. At long last, Rouge stretched and cracked her eyes open, only to realise that the clean sheet draped over her had not been there the night before.

Ryoma had to have done it to preserve some shred of her modesty.

Lips twitching in a smile, she pushed herself up to undo her braid, heart fluttering. The man had certainly won himself a stack of brownie points, though she was doubtful that she had done the same with him. Where had he gone, and how would he treat her from this point on? Surely he did not think of her as a common whore now.

Cold dread slid into her stomach like an eel. The prospect shook her deeper than she had expected it to. Biting her lip, Rouge dressed hurriedly, flitting about the cramped room to make sure her possessions were accounted for. In addition to the hazy relationship she shared with the samurai, her worry for Ganna had bloomed anew. By the angle of the sun's rays, she estimated it to be another four hours to Fireland. The ship would dock right at the doorstep of Mahdad.

At this point, she could not be sure if her emotions were in a greater knot over Ryoma or her mentor. Her growing attachment towards the man would have to end sometime, and she was loathe to think about it. Life would be very dull indeed without the samurai who embarrassed too easily.

Clipping her satchel shut, Rouge headed out of their cabin, tugging at the door. The framework had been ruined by the pirate in the previous day.

-

She found him on the deck, staring out to sea. He cut a solemn figure against the water and the sky, still and unmoving as he was. It reminded her of his determination and his strength, hidden power within sinewy muscle, as he refrained from resting his weight on the parapet, instead standing straight and tall, proud like the warrior he had proven himself to be. The slight breeze that had picked up tugged at the raven brush of his hair, neatly bound to one side of his head.

Her heart skipped a beat watching him. There were still holes on his vest where she had not the time to patch. Had he noticed her work? Even if she had not made an impression on how he viewed her, the man had certainly changed the way she looked at him. At no other point in her life had someone dissolved into such cold fury on her behalf, killed for her sake. She had felt beyond special then. The dangerous gleam in his eyes had been seared into her mind. His savagery had instilled fear into her, yes, but it had also deeply attracted her to him on a carnal level that she could not explain.

As if he had sensed her thoughts, Ryoma turned his head slightly in her direction. She froze. The events from the night before hung between them like a dark cloud of awkwardness. She had, after all, seduced him without his permission. Biting her lip, Rouge stepped forward, joining him next to the parapet a foot away. He flinched.

Her heart chilled with hurt shock. Surely he wasn't that repulsed by her? Trying to keep the quaver from her voice, she began, "I thought I'd find you he-"

"Rouge." She glanced at him, hopeful. Her heart pounded each beat deliberately. He remained gazing out into the horizon, inducing a squirm, as if keeping her as distant as he could. "I... think we should go on our own separate ways when we reach Fireland."

For some reason, that statement sank her ankle-deep into depression. The thought of leaving Ryoma this soon was upsetting, especially when she had just realised how much she liked having him around, liked him as a person. Liked him more than a friend, even. This just could not happen. Weren't they getting along well? Yet, even as she tried to deny their parting, Rouge knew it had to be done, sooner rather than later. As it was, he had already wound his way into a heart prohibited from romantic love.

She forced her gaze away, looked at the smooth parapet. Her chest twinged with the tiniest of aches. It felt as if she had given a little part of herself to him the night before, when she had only intended to share her body. "So you think of me as one of the brothel folk now?" Even suggesting that scared her, for fear that he would admit to it.

"N-no, it's not that!" He blushed, turned away from her in a manner that endeared him to her. "I- you- it's just... having you around is a hindrance to my training!"

Rouge bit her lip hard. She had not been expecting him to sing praises of her, but the confession that she was an obstruction stung badly, coming from him. There was nothing she could say to defend herself, knowing that he had a point. No matter how much each of them had enjoyed their coupling the night before, the fact remained that she wanted more of it; he did not. It was inevitable that their interests would clash again in the future.

She would have to look Ganna up and solve the problems herself. At the very least, knowing that she would be seeing her surrogate mother soon alleviated the misery of not having the samurai around.

"In that case, where are you headed when we reach Fireland?" she ventured in a small voice, sweeping the remnants of her confidence together. For all she knew, he was going to take the next ship back. Wanting to numb her senses might have been a good idea, except that she could not bring herself to do it. Rouge half-wanted to grab his shoulders and tell him he could not just leave her like that.

"I'll help to escort the pirates to the local authorities," he answered simply, noncommittally.

She shifted on her feet. Her thoughts had been so occupied by Ganna and the man that the plunderers had been shoved to the back of her mind, despite the trauma they had put her through. Ryoma had not realised it, but he had helped greatly to reduce her fears the day before, with his body and otherwise. Even so, the thought of the pirates still being aboard unnerved her. A quick glance around revealed none of the uncouth robbers. "They're on this ship? Wouldn't they break free?"

"All the way below deck, with the cargo."

Rouge found herself relishing his voice, cold as he was, comparing it to his pleasured countenance from the depths of her memory. She chanced a sidelong glance at him, flushed when she caught the surreptitious look he had been sneaking at her. Her heart thumped. He turned away, expression hardening.

"They'll have me to answer to if they harm anyone on this ship."

Especially me? she wanted to ask, but refrained from it. In all honesty, this might very well be the last time she saw him. Rouge took a step back, drawing an unsteady breath. It was easier to fit him into her view from afar. Staying with him till the end of the journey was out of the question. It was much too awkward and painful to have the samurai refuse any deeper interaction with her.

"I'll see you around, Ryoma. It's been a pleasure knowing you." Her words sounded mechanical, unfeeling. Gods, it was as if she was bidding him farewell. There was so much she wanted to tell him, but none of it would translate into speech, not how special he was to her, or how much she liked and thought of him. Those sentiments welled in her chest, bubbling restlessly, remaining stoppered. She took a final, lingering gaze at the samurai, memorizing the intricacies of his figure, before turning away, walking briskly to the stairwell to prevent herself from looking back.

"Goodbye, Rouge," he bade. Her imagination gave his voice a touch of sadness, that mirrored her emotions. She felt his eyes bore into her back. It was only until she flung herself down the stairs that the nagging attention faded, accompanied by her feigned composure.

"She's returned! Under the darkest skies, the brightest flowers bloom."

A faint image of Rouge glowed at the heart of a dark crystal orb. Within the ebony sphere, she watched on as her ship pulled into the harbour, her single eye sweeping across the coastal town of Fireland.

Long, bony fingers hovered around the crystal ball, almost caressing the air over its curved surface. They belonged to a tall man, dressed in a royal blue robe and a white turban, his deep brown skin so dark that it stood a stark contrast against his headwear.

He looked to be around thirty, with thin hands and an equally narrow face. Bushy black eyebrows swept upwards, into his forehead, dipping down at the ends, bearing little resemblance to his thick moustache, smooth and pointed on either side of his sharp nose. He had high cheekbones and a protruding chin, which was fuzzed over with a trimmed beard. Above his forehead, a lavender gem, set in gold, held the fabric of his headwear together. Snow-white cloth extended down from his turban, surrounding the sides and back of his head, ending in circles over his shoulders. This was the norm in Fireland. Civilians garbed themselves in flowing robes and headscarves to lessen the overbearing heat of the sun.

Neros stood back on his gilded platform and laughed heartily, his small eyes crinkled with glee.

The black crystal ball gleamed sinisterly in the lamplight, nestled on a large gold ring on the surface of a pedestal, which was in turn mounted on a high platform in the middle of the room. This was one of the most important chambers in the Oracle's Temple, as it housed the crystal orb used to tell the tidings of the city and country. Four grand, bronze pillars held the domed roof up, their archways intricately carved, ending in a point as they curved towards the ceiling. To the sides, foot-wide glass panes made up three of the four walls, held together by sturdy rows of metal. Ceramic brackets hung off the pillars and walls at strategic points, the torches within them bathing the chamber in a dim orange glow. Opulence glinted off the gilded floors.

The man had replaced the original crystal orb with his own dark globe, which, in his opinion, served him better. It had helped cement his standing amongst the townsfolk over the past three years. With the arrival of the beautiful Rouge, things were going to grow a little more interesting. Not for long, however. Neros had no intention of allowing the fortune teller to roam free and trip his plans up.

Getting rid of her should prove easy. Neros had plenty of power in his hands; after all, he was the Oracle now.

"Tha' yer lass?" A burly sailor nodded away from the ship, catching Ryoma's attention. "We saw yer with 'er yest'day. She looked dam keen on yer. Pretty, too."

The vessel had docked at the harbour of Mahdad with a booming horn. Like a team of clockwork toys, the sailors had sprung into action before that, readying the gangway, alerting the passengers to their arrival. The women had chattered, children tagging along in excitement as they crowded at the sides of the ship, looking at the stone buildings in awe. Hawkers bearing baskets of goods had flocked towards the jetty upon the lowering of the gangway, loudly peddling their wares.

Before he could make sense of the sailor's words, Ryoma turned, following the man's pointed stare. His heart sank.

Right in the middle of the metal gangway, amidst the passengers, was Rouge, her gaze set straight ahead. Her long chocolate braid swayed behind her body, golden bangle glinting in the sunlight. The white satchel bobbed at her side like a trusty companion. She was an orchid among the roses; try as he might, the samurai found his eyes anchoring onto her, watching as she stepped briskly onto the stone jetty, weaving through the vendors.

He had not meant to hurt her the way he did. Guilt rode up in his chest when he remembered her shocked expression, the sudden distance she had put between them. It had needed to be done, he told himself, and there had not been a better occasion for it. Ryoma knew he could not afford the proximity she wanted; hazy desire lurked within the depths of her unveiled eye each time he looked at her, and there was no question that she wanted more. Rouge, the succubus come to life, would eventually lead him astray from his path as a warrior.

That said, Rouge herself wasn't the sole cause of their parting.

What the samurai had refused to admit to was how easily his resolve slipped before her. All it took was the merest spark - one kiss, one caress - for his body to ignite... And the woman did not stop at just a single touch. She had kissed him thoroughly the night before, fondled him, set his lust afire like a lit match to kerosene. Now that she had opened his eyes to such pleasure, his blood thrummed for her. Ryoma had no faith in himself to keep his thoughts from straying, especially when she always lingered so close by. The only route out had been for them to part. He was a swordsman in training, and he needed to refine his skills.

"Yer like her."

He snapped out of his reverie, flicking his gaze sharply over to the sailor. The very idea that he would actually disregard his training and become romantically involved with Rouge sent a faint blush across his cheeks. It embarrassed him, tripped his thoughts. "I don't like her! W-well, not in that way, at least. She- she's just a friend!"

Yet, he could not help recalling how he had refused to look her in the eye earlier that morning, because he feared falling into that beckoning depth. It had felt too intimate staring at her that way. Even the split second their gazes locked had sent a shiver over his skin, because it jolted memories of how close they had been the night before. Rouge was just a special friend who was brave and attractive, and disregarding human life for her sake certainly did not mean he had a crush on her.

"Sure yer ain't got the hots for the girl." The older man stared him down with piercing green eyes, raising an eyebrow. There was a collected air about him that made Ryoma wonder if he wasn't in charge of at least a portion of the crew.

"I don't- I can't-" He stumbled on his defence, turning resolutely away from the side of the ship. There was no way he could answer that without giving himself away. Besides, time was better spent doing what he had stayed behind for. The majority of the passengers had disembarked by now. Fighting the colour on his cheeks, he changed the topic. "Shouldn't we bring the pirates to shore?"

"She's a rare 'un, lad, all pretty and gutsy. I ain't gonna let her slip if it was me." The sailor chuckled and clapped him on the back, ignoring Ryoma's indignant protest. He turned the swordsman in the direction of the stairs and took the lead. "Now, let's be hauling that swashbuckler scum outta the ship!"

Compared to the previous town in Sunland, Mahdad was a city, sprawling from the coast to a handful of miles inland, right up to the base of a tall volcano. A thin grey column of smoke drifted leisurely from the summit of Mount Ignis up towards the cloud-strewn sky, dispersing with the occasional zephyr. Next to the slopes of the landform was a large lake, deep blue and almost murky, connected to the sea by a slow river. Numerous low-rise buildings lay packed together across the dry land, each constructed of cement and bricks. While the houses of Sunland had tiled, slanted roofs and window grilles, those in Mahdad were far more simplistic, with flat tops and crude stone doorways. Balconies with metal railings were an uncommon, though not rare, sight in the city.

Rouge walked along the unpaved streets of Mahdad, taking her time to absorb the familiar scenes of her hometown. There had been more buildings added over the past five years she had been gone, and the old houses looked more run-down than ever. But more noticeable than anything else was how lifeless the streets were.

Many of the shops were unhappily patronless, and the roads were quiet. Children were no longer all about the alleys playing their childhood games, nor were the city's inhabitants exchanging friendly greetings. Instead, men crouched on their doorsteps and women huddled together, whispering gossip behind their white headscarves. People stared suspiciously at her when she passed their homes; mothers gathered their children close and shut their wooden doors, leaving the streets bare with empty windows gaping at her.

The fortune teller blinked in bewilderment, pushing along deeper into the heart of the city. Why were the townspeople treating her like a stranger? Her skin was of the same shade as theirs, and she looked every bit a native, if she did not take their conservative dress and headwear into account. More importantly, what had happened to Mahdad? When she left to travel the world, the city had been full of life, and it was a much happier place. Was this the dark shadow in her dream?

The answers she wanted would not come from the people on the streets. Biting her thumb in worry, Rouge cast her gaze about, temporarily thrown off her bearings. Having Ryoma's companionship at the moment would be something she could appreciate. It was unthinkable that what she thought impossible had happened - she felt like an outsider to her own hometown.

Mistress Ganna would know what was wrong.

Cursing herself at having forgotten about the old lady, Rouge brought her hands to her sides, striding quickly in the direction of the Oracle's Temple. At least there was one person in the whole city who would not shun her.

-

The Oracle's Temple resembled a palace made of gold. Built on the bank of Lake Debora, right next to the volcano, the temple consisted of a main building with a large domed roof, its very top ending in a spear-shaped point. Several short, thick columns supported the roof, each with vertical grooves molded into their surfaces. These columns joined the dome to another roof on a lower tier, the second roof being wider, with eight sloped sides. Yet more grooved pillars supported the wider roof, bound to each other by metal-reinforced glass walls. The entire temple was set on a raised golden platform, so high that it required a flight of stairs to be accessed. Four turrets stood at the corners of the platform like faithful sentinels, each with its own domed helmet.

To one side of the stairs was a pile of goods, offerings from the people of Mahdad. Fortune telling was taken very seriously in Fireland. At the start of each year, the Oracle would make a prediction on the country's future. The people gave up their possessions as offerings, in the hopes that the gods would bestow upon them good luck and health.

Rouge crossed the long dirt path leading from the city to the shrine. There had been few people along the way, though the decreased number might have been due to the heat of early afternoon. Her heart started to pound with excitement at the thought of seeing Ganna again. Did she look any older, and how was she getting by? Would Ganna want to hear about her travels? She started towards the gilded gold stairs.

"Rouge!" Sandal-clad feet stepped into view at the top of the steps, followed by the plain hem of a rich blue robe. "Welcome back, Rouge! It's been a long time!"

She paused in surprise, her gaze darting up towards the owner of the male voice. It was with great reluctance that her eyes took in the form of Neros. The seconds Rouge required to recognise him made her wish it had been minutes; he was one of the last people she had expected to see at the temple. Barely hiding her disdain, she stepped back, waiting for him to make his descent. So the man was still Ganna's assistant Oracle. They had never really gone along well before she left. Neros's eyes were always cunning and shifty, and she never trusted him. "Where is Ganna?"

"Ganna is no longer here. I am the Oracle of the temple now!" Neros reached the packed dirt ground, his bushy eyebrows raised in superiority.

"What?" She felt her stomach flip nauseatingly. This could not be. Ganna was a sturdy rock in her life, a comforting presence come anything. There was no reason for the old lady to leave, and she had not foretold anything about her health. Her legs felt close to buckling. Blinking her eyes multiple times to make sure she had not hallucinated, Rouge made her way shakily to the bank of the lake, where an old log lay abandoned on the ground. She sat down heavily. It felt as though a large chunk of her had gone missing. "Where- where did Mistress Ganna go?"

"Who knows." Neros followed her to the water's edge, staring across the lake.

"Why would she- I don't understand. Why would she want to leave the temple?" She looked into the water, its rippling surface mirroring the uneasy confusion in her mind. Her heartbeat quickened with anxiety. It had never occurred that something this absurd could occur to her surrogate mother. Her thoughts raced, trying to come up with an explanation.

"Her abilities diminished. She lost the power of divination," the blue-dressed man told her nonchalantly, if a tad disapproving. "One day, the future went dark."

"How did this happen?" she asked disbelievingly, distraught. Rouge remembered clearly the aura that Ganna had whenever she made a prediction. That gift could not just disappear.

"Three years ago, I foresaw a volcanic eruption, but Ganna said no such thing would happen. Then, one week later, just as I foresaw, there was a huge eruption! The city was engulfed! There was fire everywhere! The temple was burnt and many treasures were lost."

Her mind reeled. Ganna made a wrong prediction? It sounded such a grave error. The image barely registered in her head. "How awful."

"No one was ready for it," Neros continued as if she had not said a thing. "So Ganna was blamed for not preparing everyone for the calamity. She had no alternative but to step down."

Rouge missed the man's slanted glance at her.

"And it was then that you became the Oracle?" she asked slowly, frowning. Something did not feel right about this.

"I was chosen by the people." Neros bared his teeth in satisfaction, not bothering to elaborate.

"Didn't you do anything to try and protect her?" She clenched her fists indignantly on her knees. Somewhere out there, Ganna would tell her the truth.

"I was helpless to do anything alone. Besides, she had lost her gift. Without the power to See, one cannot be an Oracle." He stepped behind her when she hunched her shoulders, her heart sagging with disappointment. It felt as if she had failed somehow by not being around to defend her mentor. "Rouge!" Two large hands clapped onto her shoulders, forcing her forward slightly. She gasped at the impact, trying to make sense of what he was doing. Vaguely, she felt him crouch behind her, his voice suddenly lowering to her ear. "You're a grown-up now. Why not come back and then you can be at my side here at the temple?"

"I can't do that!" Faint shivers of disgust slithered along her nerves. She didn't want him, she wanted Ryoma. Sirens of warning blared in her mind, even as he transferred his weight onto her, leaning close enough that his robes brushed the skin at the small of her back. Her stomach constricted.

"Rouge. You'll live in luxury-" His warm breath rushed against her ear, eliciting a well of panic in her middle. He was not the samurai.

Bracing her heels against the ground, she propelled herself forward, out from under Neros's pressuring weight. He lost his balance momentarily. Rouge sprang to her feet and planted her hands on his chest, shoving him away roughly. Adrenaline pumped in her veins. "Get your hands off me and tell me where Mistress Ganna is!"

The new Oracle rubbed his wrist, staring at her darkly. His lips curled down beneath his moustache. "Who knows and who cares where that tired old woman is!"

"Then I'll find her myself. Goodbye." She ignored his attention, turning sharply away, her braid swishing behind her. Neros had proven himself unworthy of her trust once again. Rouge tried to shake the prickle on her back under his fixed stare, heading quickly down the dirt path. If Ryoma were around, he would have prevented the man from getting too close to her. A wistful sigh escaped her lips.

From Neros's words, it was at least probable that Ganna was still alive and well somewhere. That was the single bright spot in the bad day she was having so far.

Ryoma strode along the streets, glancing warily at the unfriendly stares of the locals. The difference in dress had not bothered him much; hardly anyone wore the same clothes he did. What had him surprised, though, was how Rouge could be from such a place, where everyone was almost covered from head to toe, while she had barely anything on. She was so different from the people here.

The silent, resentful attention could not merely have resulted from his being a stranger to this land. From the corner of his eye, he looked back at those he had passed. They appeared just as miserable as before, as if he had never crossed their vision. Was the place always like this, and did Rouge really spend her childhood here?

He wandered through the streets of the city, looking up at the volcano as it loomed ever closer. Next to the crude, shackled pirates from the ship, he had come to realise that he missed Rouge's refinement and cheer. A handful of sailors had gone along with him to report their capture to the local officials. They weren't quite the same, even if they were an easygoing bunch. He imagined that Rouge must have met up with her mentor by now, all thought of him forgotten as she embraced her surrogate mother. Well, it was good for her, even if he felt a twinge of disappointment thinking that she might have had driven him out of her mind.

Hunger gnawed at his stomach, and he remembered that he had not eaten since noon. There had not been much he could afford on the ship. The week of intensive training for the match against Tsurugi had him running far less errands than he could afford; as a result, he found himself short on cash. It was a blessing that Rouge had taken it upon herself to pay for his meals despite his protests - he would have to return what he owed when he had enough. As it was, Ryoma had traded his remaining Sunland coins for the currency of Fireland. He would have to see if this city could spare him a job or two.

A light whiff of spices caught his nose. He followed it, trying to seek out a food stall. The shops were mostly empty, however. He had to look within to tell what each vendor was selling. With the state the city was in, food was probably not priced too steeply. It was three in the afternoon. He would buy whatever sustenance that was available now.

"You over there! The one with swords!"

He paused and blinked, turning around towards the owner of the voice. A tall, dark man had stepped out from one of the alleys he had passed, dressed in a white turban and blue robes. His shrewd eyes scanned over the samurai in appraisal. The latter held his ground, waiting for what the local had to say. Ryoma had done no wrong; there was no need to fear his attention. After moments, the man stepped closer, his bushy brows raised in favour of him.

"You look dependable, swordsman, and I have a job in need of your skills." The man stopped three feet away, a respectful distance. There appeared to be nobody else with him. The purple gem above his forehead gleamed in the sunlight, much like the one Rouge wore. "I am Neros. The reward will be a hundred gold pieces if you complete it satisfactorily."

"Really?" Ryoma felt his spirits rise by a large fraction. It was as if the gods had known of his plight. If he handled this well, the wounds from the day before would not be strained any more than was uncomfortable. "In that case, I'll take it, Neros. All you have to do is give me the word."

"Good, good. Come with me to the Oracle's Temple, and we shall discuss the details there," Neros told him with a contented smile, turning away. He rubbed his hands and stifled a chuckle.

"The Oracle's Temple? Sure." Setting his hunger aside, the samurai followed his future employer out of the city, taking note of his surroundings. Was Rouge at the temple too? Did she know this man? A shred of exhilaration wound itself into his veins at the prospect of glimpsing the fortune teller again. After all, they did not separate because he didn't like her. As long as he did not have to involve himself with the woman, things were good. She was more important to him than he would dare admit.

-

The temple had to be one of the most expensive he had ever seen. It was no surprise that the entire place looked to be built of gold - the people of Fireland seemed to love the precious metal. Rouge herself wore plenty of it, from her earrings and gold-mounted hairpiece, to her bangle and the heart-shaped ornament at the crotch of her pants. His cheeks heated when he remembered how intimately he knew her, willing the blush to go down. The taller man had fortunately not noticed.

"So, what kind of job is it that you have for me?" Ryoma broke the silence they had been travelling in. They scaled the stairs of the golden platform, heading towards the gilded dome. From the higher vantage point, Lake Debora seemed to stretch towards the horizon, glittering diamonds under the stifling sun. The quiet at the temple felt a little more natural than that in the city. Like the streets they had left, however, the temple compounds were almost devoid of life. A few men could be seen behind the temple itself, but none others had come this afternoon.

"I require you to find someone in the city and bring her to me," Neros divulged when they reached the shadowed interior of the building. His voice echoed around the chamber, almost as if inducing the flickering of flames in the wall brackets.

"You need a warrior for that?" Ryoma glanced around, taking in the high platform in the middle of the room. Light glinted off its steep polished sides. Through the metal-reinforced glass panes, he could see the sparkling lake past the boundaries of the temple. Perhaps Rouge had grown up here instead. This was far more peaceful than the lifeless city.

"Yes, your discretion and abilities should prove useful for this task. She might need a little... convincing." The dark man smiled briefly, baring his teeth. "When you've found this woman, bring her back here, to this temple. I will be waiting anxiously for your return."

"What does she look like?" Ryoma frowned. This was surely no ordinary female, if anyone less than a warrior could not complete this task. "Would it not be easier to put up notices for her?"

"Oh, she's a pretty young thing. Long hair, all tied up, about this tall-" Neros gestured to a height slightly shorter than Ryoma's, "-wears very, very little." He clucked his tongue. "White underwear for her top, and purple pants. Such a disgrace, is it not? You'll find her easily if she dresses that way. The girl only shows one of her eyes. Thinks she's so mysterious, eh?"

"That sounds like Rouge..." Ryoma blurted, rubbing his chin as the mental images matched. His eyes snapped over to Neros. "What do you want with her?"

"Aah, so I see you've met." Neros's black eyebrows lifted. His smile grew wider. "That makes it so much easier. Just bring her to this temple, samurai. You will be heavily rewarded for this."

"She doesn't want to be here, does she? If I have to "convince" her to come, it means you're telling me to kidnap her!" Ryoma frowned and clenched his fists as his facts clicked, turning to face the man fully. Neros had wanted him to bring Rouge here by force. The surge of protectiveness and anger must have shown on his face, because Neros gave a strained laugh and backed away, raising his hands. He could not trust this man. "What do you want with Rouge?"

"I mean her no harm! All I'm looking out for is her own good, you have to believe me!" Neros defended, his voice lifting with the local accent. His small eyes darted. The torches flickered behind him.

"I'm sorry, Neros, but I have to decline this offer. I am a man of honour, and I cannot bring Rouge to you. Where is she? Why isn't she at the temple?" His eyes narrowed, staring as the cloth around the man's head swayed. The still air resounded with his footsteps towards Neros. His target retreated by the same distance.

"Who knows! If I did, I would not have required your services!" Deep grooves crossed Neros's forehead as he frowned, staring at the younger man. There was no point trying to take on the swordsman at this point if challenged. He would need reinforcements to do so. "Begone with you!"

"Rouge is safer without you, Neros!" Ryoma growled, staring threateningly at the man, before spinning around to leave. There was no way he would turn her in to a man with bulging eyes like Neros. The only male he trusted to keep her safe was himself. Yet... he had chased her from him. Anger at himself and the turbaned man brewed hotly in his chest. To remedy the situation, he would have to seek her out and alert her to the man's intentions. He clenched his fists, stalking out of the door, but not before leaving Neros a threat, "Don't let me catch you harming her."

"Why would I do such a thing?" the robed man called out after his retreating figure, breathing a sigh of relief. There went a possible method to have Rouge under his thumb.

With Ryoma safely out of the way, the Oracle prowled further into the temple, towards the black crystal ball on the platform. Moments later, the pattering of footsteps sounded up the stairs. A man in the typical civilian clothes of a turban and robe stepped up close to him, leaning in to whisper in his ear.

"We have received word that there are pirates imprisoned near the harbour, Sire. There is also a swordsman you might be interested in. He is waiting in the back room."

"Good, very good!" Neros rubbed his bony hands together in approval. The black crystal ball gleamed conspiratorially in front of him, like a partner in crime. "Send some men to the prison tonight, we can do with a few more hands. And tell the swordsman that I will have an audience with him shortly."

"Yes, Sire." The man bowed and stepped back, swiftly descending the platform stairs.

"You will not be Oracle, my dear Rouge! This luxury will be lost on you!" Neros chuckled, tracing the point of his moustache with a thumb and forefinger. He thought of the nubile fortune teller, picturing her as an obedient wife by his side. It was a delicious prospect. Cackling in delight, Neros headed down the stairs, making his way to one of the side chambers with ease.

The new swordsman who awaited him was definitely different. He was tall and thin, a head taller than Ryoma. Unlike the dull navy-and-brown clothes of the latter, this man wore a blood-red kimono top and hakama, similarly armed with two swords in mahogany scabbards. His face was eagle-like; raven hair was tied back to a side in a ponytail. He had been staring out of the glass-paned walls, arms folded, before Neros made his entrance.

"I overheard you trying to hire that Akudo Dojo failure," Tsurugi Akira drawled, slowly turning to face Neros.

"Why, yes, do you know him too?" Neros raised his eyebrows, deciding that he liked the look of this swordsman. Even his attitude was far more pleasing.

Tsurugi snorted. "Kid seems to be following me around everywhere. I'll complete that job for you if the price is tripled, no questions asked."

"Very well, it's a deal!" Neros laughed, rubbing his hands together. Three hundred gold pieces were nothing if he got to keep his title as Oracle. The people's possessions were worth many times that, and he was easily one of the richest men in Mahdad, with a hand dipping into the combined wealth of the city.

It seemed that no one knew where Ganna was.

For the past hour and a half, Rouge had scouted the city by herself, looking for anyone who appeared remotely like her mentor, with her short, plump form. If she had some luck, her surrogate mother would still be wearing her Oracle's clothes - a white headscarf and a plain forest-green dress with long sleeves. But no matter where she looked, there was no sign of the old lady. Time had started to slip by, forcing Rouge to approach the people on the streets, even as they kept their distance and responded warily. All their answers had been negative.

Biting her lip in frustration, the woman strode briskly through the streets, hoping to cover as much ground as she could before dark. She had still not yet found a place to lodge in for the night. With bitter irony, she imagined that Ryoma would have somewhere to stay long before she did, when this was the city she was most familiar with. So much had changed over the last twenty-four hours. Wishing for either Ganna's presence or Ryoma's warmth, and having neither, Rouge headed down a small alley which faced the backs of stone shop houses. There was barely anyone here.

A light tug on her satchel brought her gaze swinging to the side, where there was, his small brown hand extending beneath the flap of her bag, a little boy no older than seven, staring at her with large dark eyes similar to her own. A faded green shirt and pants covered his thin frame. He yelped in surprise, snatching his hand from her bag, together with a flash of purple that she identified as her purse the instant he spun on his heels, dashing down the alleyway she had come from. Rouge gaped in shock.

"Stop, thief!" she hollered, taking off after the boy, her slippered feet pounding as she chased the nimble pickpocket. Despite her strides being longer, he was just as fast, snapping his head around to glance at her, before putting more energy into his pumping legs, bare feet pattering on the packed dirt ground.

It seemed that none of the bystanders would lend her a hand, merely watching when she cursed at him, skidding with each sharp corner turn he took, her satchel bouncing on her thigh as she sprinted after the thief. Damn it, she needed that money. That was all she had on her. If she couldn't find Ganna, those coins would go into her lodging.

An unladylike growl slipping from her throat, Rouge put all her strength into her legs, propelling herself forward. Her muscles burned. The peeling brick walls flashed past her, and her heart thundered, but all she cared about was how her outstretched fingers inched ever closer to the boy, until she flicked her wrist and caught the collar of his shirt, yanking him to a halt with a jerk.

He cried out as his body snapped backwards, arms flailing at his sides to keep his balance. Rouge reached forward and snatched her purse from his small hand, sending him a fierce glare as she panted for breath.

The boy whimpered and gazed longingly at her wallet, before glancing fearfully at her, breathing hard. He strained forward, away from her. "Lemme go!"

"No! I should teach you a lesson for robbing women." Rouge stared hard at him, taking in the worn clothes he was wearing, his feet dusty and without protection. He had an impish face, almost bony, with tousled short hair and ears that stuck out like a monkey's. Her memory was jolted by his dressing, back to years ago, when she was alone on the streets. Pity for the boy almost made her loosen her grip on his shirt, but she remembered the tenacity of alley kids, keeping a safe distance from him. In a gentler tone, she asked, crouching to his height, "Why did you steal my purse?"

He shook his head and looked obstinately away from her. They were in another quiet alley this time, she noticed.

Rouge tried again, unfazed, staring at his turned head. "Is there someone making you steal from others?"

"No!" The boy shook his head vigorously, causing locks of his hair to flop about.

She squeezed her palm-sized purse with her other hand, estimating that the amount in there could get her enough food for a week, lodging for a few days, and a trip back to Sunland. At his answering silence, she tucked the purse back into her satchel, gripping his shoulders firmly and turning him around to face her. "Then why were you stealing from me? I'm trying to help you, little boy. I grew up in this place myself."

"Not with that new Oracle, you haven't," he spat, squirming in her grasp. His gaze flickered to her bag and the alley behind her. It seemed as if he was planning for an escape.

The woman frowned. How could the boy have known about the change? He would only have been four then. "How did you know about Neros?"

"My Ma told me. Now lemme go!" he repeated, jerking his shoulders when her grip started to weaken. He made a face at her, kicking at her knees. She winced and held on to him.

"I will. Just answer one last question for me - were you stealing for your family?" Rouge watched his expression carefully. A tiny idea was starting to take shape in her mind.

The boy nodded reluctantly, avoiding her gaze. "My sisters are hungry."

"Could you bring me to your home? I'd like to help your family out a little."

Stricken, the boy stared wide-eyed at her, shaking his head. His offense stopped. "You can't tell on me to Ma! Papa might hear and hit me!"

Rouge bit her lip. It was painful to imagine the belting some children received when they committed misdeeds. She held onto the boy, looking straight at him. "I promise I won't tell your Ma. Will that do?"

He nodded reluctantly again, staying still when she finally released his shoulders. Distrust lingered in his eyes. "How're you gonna help?"

"Is there anyone selling bread on the way to your home? I'll get your family some as a gift." She raised her eyebrows and watched him uncertainly for his reaction. The bread sold locally was dense and flat, a staple food next to rice. He said nothing, but the shy, delighted smile that crept up his lips was all she needed.

They ended up purchasing a pile of the local bread, and as large a sack of rice as the boy could carry. There was a cheerful glow to his face that brought joy to her heart when she looked at him.

The boy's father was not present when they arrived; only a pregnant woman the boy addressed as "Ma", and two other dark-skinned girls hiding behind her long skirt. Rouge had stood back at the door while the boy chattered excitedly to his mother in the dim room, easing the older woman's suspicious stare. She was glad that she had brought ample food for the family - their living quarters were small and cramped, with hardly space for five.

"You are very kind, Miss." The woman finally stepped forward, clasping Rouge's hands with her own. "Thank you for your gifts."

"My name is Rouge. It was nothing." Rouge smiled in relief, drawing a hand away and pressing the remainder of her fare to Sunland into the woman's hand. "It's what Ganna would have done. Your son told me about Neros-"

"You know of Ganna?" The woman looked at her in surprise, accepting the money with a small smile, her thin face illuminated by the light from the streets. Then she blinked, recognition filling her eyes. "Now I remember! You were the girl who was always with Ganna, weren't you? So it was true that you left Fireland.

"Yes, I believe Neros is the cause of all this. Before Ganna lost her Sight, all was well in the country, but after the fire and Neros took over, we have been thrown into poverty. The gods don't seem to favour Neros as Oracle. Each year he predicts eruptions, and each year we give plenty of offerings to the gods, only to grow poorer and poorer. My husband believes in Neros, and I am powerless to stop him when it is time to make offerings. I have to keep my children safe."

Rouge frowned, her spirits sinking. So Neros had not been lying. It still confused her how Mahdad could have suffered when Neros used his divination for the good of the city. Ganna would know, and this woman seemed to be familiar with her mentor to some extent. "I am very sorry to hear about this, Ma'am, and I wish I could do more to help. Tell me, do you know where I can find Mistress Ganna?"

"Your generosity is still much appreciated, Rouge." She lowered her head in thought, watching as her children tucked into the unleavened bread. "I've heard rumours that she lives by herself at the foot of Mount Ignis, on the other side of the city. Maybe you'll find her there."

Her eyes widened. That might be what she had been trying to seek for the past hour or so. Hope surged in her chest. With her heart quickening in excitement, Rouge squeezed the woman's hands, smiling gratefully at her. "Thank you very much, ma'am. I'll remember you for this."

The woman returned the smile warmly, petting her hand. "Thank you, Rouge. We are indebted to your kindness. Good fortune to you."

With the mother and her children at their door bidding her goodbye, Rouge hurried off back towards the volcano, praying that the information was not a false lead.