The Wind Chronicles of Gaea


Event Nine

This Kingdom Has…Quite a Familiar Feel to It


"Sylvine Luminaria, I leave the Heir's security to you. Will you please escort him to the Household Suites in my stead? There are some matters that I need to attend to."

"Aw, but Lady Percival—?" Marina whined.

"That's Lord Percival to you, Little Marina." The feline knight didn't turn to see her pouting face.

"Why're stickin' us with 'is weirdlin'? Why're we tour guides alluva sudden?!" Her ranting was irking her crewmates, and even Sonic and Sir Percival. "We've got important errands to run too, y'know!" She huffed, crossing her arms.

"Can we really give him a tour, Viceroy?" Vanille offered, sweet and raising her hand.

Marina plucked out every sparkle in the rabbit girl's eyes. "What're you, crazy? That's a se-cu-rur-ty hazard, ya nimrod!"

"Not in this case, Marina." The 3rd Viceroy's voice was contradictory in its softness. Her heels had stopped clacking, her footfalls completely halted. The royal plum cascading over her shoulder blades swished at the mid-step pause; now that she was inside, her cape had shortened. "This 'weirdling' happens to be the Heir to Fanelia's throne. As such, we must treat him with utmost respect and fulfill his wishes." She straightened, blinking at Sonic. "That is, if a tour is what he desires."

"Yeah, we can do it! We know this palace like the backs of our hands!" Nimue the Valiant pinned a haughty thumb to her lapel.

"Down to the tiniest specks of shiny marble!" Vanille, just as Endearing, giggled excitedly.

"But why do we hafta do it?!" Marina kept griping, gesturing accordingly and grandly. "Caun'tcha get Lancelot or Gawain to do it?"

"I would, personally," Percival assured her. In her infamous lecturing tone. "But we're all preoccupied with more pressing matters. Gawain is still cooling down and assisting in the Squires' training regimens, and Lancelot has taken off to an ambassadorial trip in Mercrusia, and he will not be returning until Atzü'lu's Midrift."

Sonic blinked in confusion.

"Huh? But that's almost two weeks from now, Viceroy!" Nimue was a little skittish now. She threw her hands in a ladylike clasp. "Will he be okay? Mercrusia is a long ways away…!" Vanille had done the same and was nodding vigorously.

"I'm sure he'll be fine, Nimue, Vanille. And so will our Kingdom of Fanelia." Percival stayed assuring, motherly, and ladylike. She half-curtsied to them and imparted some final instructions: "Which means the Heir will have ample time to practice more with his newly found technique." She winked both eyes at Sonic. "When you three have the time, take him to see both Doyen Gustavio and Lieutenant Miles. They will be of great assistance with the Heir's practice." She smiled, sweet as can be.

Which confused Sonic to no end. "Huh? Practice? Look, ladies, I can't stay here—and I probably should've mentioned this way beforehand, but we were too busy dealing with a dragon, witches, a magic sword…and donuts." He huffed a bit bitterly. It made the three girls look to one another and blink. One of Percival's brows raised. "But anyway, I've got a grandma to get back to, and a championship race to finish winning! I don't know how I got here or anything, but I'd like to kindly take my leave…y'know?"

The three girls' ears perked up at the word "grandma" and twitched a little. Bright green, sky-blue, and cocoa eyes peeked at Sonic, who decided to take a walking start. They all wailed, "Wait!" while reaching out to him. They ended up converging on where their cheeks squished together. Poor Marina was in the middle.

"A grandmother? Your grandmother is long gone."

Sonic froze in his steps. A chill shingled through his fur and down his spine. It seemed like his heart dropped into his feet. His irises quivered, muzzle steadily paling. "Wh-What…did you just…?" Nervousness made his pulse thunder.

The girls had plopped to the floor, but Percival crossed around them, classy heels clacking her precise movements. As she moved, so did her serpentine tail. "The late Fanelian Matriarch, Mother Helene Kyrie III, reigned unto her third diamond anniversary before expiring."

Sonic snapped his sights to the Sylvine Luminaria for triple reassurance. But when they hesitated, he barked at Percival, "Wait, what do you mean 'expire'?! Is she dead?! And how—when?!"

"That was all before you were born." The feline officer was stern and unwavering. Her tail swayed back and forth.

A numbness preconceived Sonic's shock. His fists fell out of form and to his sides. Her answer had thrown him into a whirl of befuddlement.

And it wasn't hard for Percival to see. A soft sigh puffed through her lips. "All will be explained at a later time, seeing as my Pages may currently be unable to answer all you may ask…?"

"What're you talking about, Viceroy?" Nimue's enthusiasm knew no bounds, it seemed. "Of course we can answer his questions! I'm a history wiz, remember? I can recite all thirty-three Canticles of the Kyrie-Ambrosial Treatise of Fanelia—in Empyrean too, and transliterate them into Florentine Gaean, no problem!"

Percival was impressed. "Oh, you can, can you?" Even if it sounded feigned. She had decided to take her leave once more.

As she grew farther and father away, Sonic's reflex to stop was a bit too slow. He heard Vanille giggling. "Of course you can, Nimue," the rabbit girl explained. "Because that's the big, fancy, royal name for the Matriarch's acceptance of Father Aurelius's marriage proposal…!" She burst into a fit of sneaky laughter.

"Hey! That's still an important piece of history, silly!" Nimue retorted with a twinge of sensitivity. Puffs of steam tooted from her ears.

"Yea, so? In otha' words, it's just a icky love poem, ya twit…" Marina's rewording was a bit more curt and slightly tarter than what Vanille described.

The rest of the girls' banter ebbed and flowed from Sonic's awareness, however. He was able to blink at their changes in subject, and even refocus at any name that could've referred to him. "Okay…just get a grip, Sonic," he quieted himself. "This…clearly isn't Earth…at least not the one you know." His eyes watched the girls chase around him, the smaller ones skirting after the whining Nimue. The smile that curled was tiny and a tad embarrassed for her. "Just keep calm. I'm sure these three will tell me everything I want to know."


Upon relaxing into a mass of plushy cushions, Sonic heaved a sigh into the luxurious material. He hadn't really relaxed—or slept—since his dislocation. The whole Ensign bit he refused to include because he was technically knocked out. But maybe he could count it now; at that point, he didn't care, since he just wanted to sleep some more. The Sylvine Luminaria trio had been overly indulging, offering him random meal dishes, snacks, clothes, blankets, even to give him a bath. Which was exceedingly awkward, considering they all looked so young.

For that last bit, they did show him where the "Fanelian Baths" were. And Sonic was very impressed by the intricate moldings, the clean shallow pools, the overall elegance and dainty touches, like the smaller bowls of scented water—which he sniffed—and the raised glass bay. He wandered around the pools, all too carefully, and peeked beyond the frost-edged panes. As far as he could see, there were hills, terraces, and even a forest further off. Then, a striking mountain range. He wasn't sure from where he was, but Sonic could've sworn he saw some of them floating about.

As Sonic followed the Luminaria trio around, each girl took a turn explaining things. Nimue had a sneaky suspicion that Sonic was the type of guy who could eat a cartload of food, so she showed him around the Castle's Dining Hall. The first thing he saw, besides the painstaking wood-paneled double doors, was the massive chandelier: Nimue's personal favorite, the entire set consisted of a central "body" and three "legs," which branched throughout the rotunda. Their rich, kaleidoscopic colors took Sonic's breath away. "So many colors…they're actually cohesive and cool-looking!" Like stars, the facets twinkled in the steady sunlight. Strangely, it felt like it was later in the day to Sonic, as if hour upon hour had gone by. Although that was probably the case, Sonic had a feeling something was off about it. "Hey, A—…I mean, Nimue?" The hedgehog teen was still getting used to the different names; luckily, he caught himself. "Do you, uh, have the time?"

The pink hedgehog spun on a toe and blinked at him. "The time? Let's see!" Her peppy skips led her to a grandfather clock that wasn't too far off. The room looked like a multipurpose space: One half was for eating and the other looked like a ballroom. Nimue peered into the tall clock's brass face, blinked a little, and giggled. On that same toe, she showed Sonic an indicatory finger that ticked at each pause. "It—is—First Diurne—my good sir!"

But Sonic blinked in confusion. "First…Diurne? Umm…?" Then, he took a glance at the clock for himself. Carefully, he spotted the fine-crafted hands. Cut precisely and ever-accurate, it appeared to be the first hour of the day, past noon. "It looks like it's one o'clock, but it feels like three…?" Sonic made a thoughtful face. "Time really must move slower here."

"Alright! Away, to the Garden Pleasance!" Nimue chanted.

"Bu' we jus' came from 'at way, Nimue!" But the raccoon girl seemed exasperated. "Ya draggin' us 'round in circles, fo' crepes' sake!"

"Well then, where should we go next, little genius?" The slightly older and taller girl prodded the younger's forehead with a finger. Sparks seemed to fly between the two butting heads. Vanille, giggling out of embarrassment, was trying to get between her two comrades.

Until Sonic spoke up to them: "I'd like to go to a place where I can sleep." He stole a glance at both Nimue and Marina. All three girls blinked at him. "Doesn't matter where. As long as I can be comfortable, and clear my head." Sonic had crossed his arms over his chest. He seemed to be waiting, like a good guest, and hoping he didn't sound too rude. The girls were a bit stunned by his reticent tone.

But the brave Nimue smiled grandly at it. "Okay! Sure thing!" she chuckled. "I know just the right place!"

And there Sonic was. In a heap of red pillows that were all-too-reminiscent of a pincushion. His nose twitched at the rosy aroma. Everything about it reminded him of a perfume Amy would wear for him. The pink hedgehog he'd been made aware of was already so different from Amy: While Amy grew to become obsessed with him, Nimue was a more big-sister figure to Marine and Cream's doppelgangers. As her title suggested, Nimue the Valiant was indulgent (except in an overprotective way), outgoing, and cute as a button. Her comrades, Marina and Vanille, were also just like their modern personas—or even more Robust and Endearing.

Nimue had brought out a large quilt and covered Sonic with it. The blue hedgehog didn't stir. Which made Nimue smile. Vanille showed Marina a playful "Shh!", which was rebutted with a tomboyish wink.

"He's been through a lot today, so I'll let him nap in my bed."

The younger girls agreed. After Vanille nodded with more vigor, Marina's eyes fell upon Sonic. His sleeping face had a twinge of loss in it. Something in it looked sad; a coy pink allowed itself to tinge her snowy muzzle.

There were things about all the new characters he'd met that were radically different; there were some that were oddly unchanged. And it only made more questions formulate. But his grandmother's unexpected, and unknown, death was what threw him for the biggest loop.


Gilt brocades graced the neck of his coal steed. At a healthy trot, the stallion didn't seem to mind towing the fairly small coach. Polished navy-oyster was unmistakably rich and genuine, crafted by the most desirable pearl-smiths in the country. Working with massive hunks of wall straight from the Mausolea of Viole, the mister smith and his wife were particular about details, just like their customers. The lady-smith made sure the shades of color, texture, thickness, brilliance—all were perfect. The oyster caves were far to the east, the upper border between Titanic Plains and Hesroma Sound. Internal moistness contributed to the pearls' malleability. And especially after a perfect mine, the pearl-smiths could carve patterns and shave out better-quality veneers.

So, the coach's navy pearl was considered his best work. The lady smith's nitpicky tendencies had its advantages, it seemed. Even if Sir Lancelot was nowhere near as nitpicky.

A patrol of four royal guardsmen trotted in a cowbell formation around the carriage. Watchful eyes peered out every now and then to spot any unwanted passersby. The black stallion snorted quietly.

"We should be reaching the Fassa Thoroughfares within the next Diurne, Milord."

Lancelot looked up from his work to see the sky: still blue, still breezy. He couldn't quite catch the scent of water, but he took a moment to smell the nearby wildflowers. Suddenly, his nose twitched. He lowered the parchment, which snaked over his feet. "Very good. Could one of you fetch that snippet of peppermint off the road for me?"

The patrolmen just beyond the carriage veil made curious, confused faces. "Ahh…Sir, we beg your pardon?"

"There is a pluck of peppermint off to the left. We're passing it, so please hurry and get it."

The left patrolmen galloped off the road to find the plant. Unwittingly trampling over the other flowers, he went straight for what he thought was the peppermint. His ineptitude in botany bogged his judgment, so he brought it back with hesitation. The translucent veil parted only for a moment; the pause that followed made his guard's hands quiver.

"…Thank you, Corporal."

A tiny gulp knotted down his throat. Atop his head tufted ears twitched, stunned by his correct guess. "Ah, much obliged, Milord…but what're you going to do with it?"

Careful hands bagged the fresh stems into a chiffon satchel. "Why, brew tea out of it, of course." And in a streamline transition, he went right back to reading.

His black steed neighed, as if the answer was obvious. The Corporal tilted a bashful nod, and adjusted his visor so that it masked the embarrassed flush. His bushy red-squirrel tail flinched.

Sunlight prickled the wafting veil. It was less navy than the coach itself, but the glistening drape was an added touch on the lady pearl-smith's behalf. Lancelot had personally bartered nearly every piece of gold he owned for the carriage; he made sure the man and wife were set for the rest of their lives.


"Mail's here!" Little Vanille cried out, an old-gold envelope in hand.

Nimue jogged over while stuffing a couple more envelopes into her messenger bag. "Ooh, where from?" she craned her head over the rabbit's shoulder. Vanille blinked at the very splotchy, gapless scribble and looked to Nimue for reassurance. A twitch crooked the hedgehog's smile. "Well, I know whose shaky handwriting that is, even without reading the name…!"

"Is that for me?"

Nimue and Vanille perked up to the new voice. In the doorway, a short golden-yellow fox was wiping at his forehead, underneath a goggle pair. His brown coveralls looked splotchy all their own, with coppery oil and a few nicks and scuffs. Maybe those makeshift patches not only fixed the problem, but were perhaps the most colorful details on him. His smile was on the shy side, mostly due to the indecipherable signature. "Looks like Old Man Nostramazakh has struck again?"

"Yep." A sweat drop plopped down from Nimue's temple.

"Hi, Miles!" Vanille waved cutely.

A tiny blush made its way across the boy's nose. "Eh, Ave Diurné, Vanille. Hmm…!" He latched a wrench onto his utility belt before seeing her make her way over to him.

"Ugh, it's about time you came out of your room, little sir," Nimue remarked a bit smartly. But in the biggest sisterly way, borderline motherly. "All you do is tinker around in there! You barely come out to breathe—fresh air! And window breeze doesn't count, you know!"

"Well, I can't help being so busy, Nimue," the boy shrugged. "The Guymelef fleets need to stay in tip-top shape. Doyen's orders."

"But no one's piloting them right now, silly!" Nimue knocked against Miles's forehead, just beneath the goggles. She puffed a cheek at his whine.

"Come and pick flowers with me sometime, 'kay?" Vanille's offer was so sweet and tenderhearted. The activity seemed like the very opposite of what Miles would be doing for hours on end.

Considering the offer, Miles took the gold envelope gently. The rabbit girl hummed, her head and eyes bowed, and body swishing her skirt hems to and fro. He was able to excite her by taking up the offer. She, in return, nodded vigorously. "Let me see what the Old Man needs first, okay?"

"Okay!" She grinned.

Just before Miles could start opening the letter, Nimue spoke up. "Hey, Vanille, where'd Marina go?"

"…She's supposed to be helping us! Oh, where'd she run off to…?"

An anchor-shaped satchel waited beside Marina's fidgeting feet. Her impatient huffs were soft, annoyed by how peacefully Sonic was sleeping. While he slept his worries away, Marina and her fellow messengers had to report mail to different Castle facilities, sending and retrieving, ripping up and down and all around the big hallways. The Fanelian Castle grounds were huge, and she didn't know how any of the in-house staff could stand it. She felt especially bad for the ones responsible for keeping them prim and proper. She even had sympathy for the Castle guards, the underling Squires Galahad and Lamorak, Doyen Consul-General Gustavio, and even the three Viceroys. Sirs Percival, Gawain, and Lancelot seem to tread the corridors the most.

And with that, she figured she didn't have that much room to complain. They didn't complain, so why should she? An inner strength was sparked within the raccoon girl, complete with a pumped fist.

Sonic let out a light snore.

"Wait, the Fanelian Heir has been found?!" Miles yelped from the lower room.

And Marina overreacted. The poor girl threw her hands everywhere in a terrible flinch. The stool she sat on rocked back and couldn't balance her anymore. "Wah-ah-ah-ah—Oww!"

Sonic awakened, sluggishly despite the near-simultaneous surprises.

"Hold on! Where is he?!" the fox boy yelped again.

"Well, he's very nearby, if that's what you're asking…!" Nimue answered sneakily.

Vanille giggled with her. "Yeah, he's here! Napping in Nimue's bed…so you gotta be real quiet. 'Kay?" She pressed a finger against Miles's lips. The boy blinked at the brazen move, his blush returning with a vengeance. He acknowledged it by nodding a little.

Marina whined. She didn't want to be caught slacking on the job. Her hands and knees dragged her around the floor, and her eyes darted around, looking for a hiding place. Soon enough, she dived into the pillows and hid as best she could. But her ringed tail poked out, curled with nervousness.

"Ngh…? Marina? What are you doing?" Sonic wondered, rubbing at each eye.

"Shh-huh! Do ya want 'em to fin' me, ya twit?" That ringed tail flailed about angrily.

"Wha…? But they already found you."

"Bah!" Marina threw her head out of the pile and saw Nimue, Vanille, and Miles, each with questioning looks. The pink hedgehog raised an eyebrow before smirking sneakily. But the raccoon girl five years her junior whined even louder. "Eh-hey! What're ya lookin' at me like 'at for?!"

"What're you doing in here, Marina?" Nimue asked, bell sleeves crossed over her sky-blue ruffles. "Trying to get some 'alone time' with the Heir?"

"Nuh-uh! Why ya talkin' crazy, Nimue? I wouldn'tsneak off from our duties as messenge's jus' to peep on him while he was sleepin'…?!" She huffed bitterly. Basket-weave sleeves had crossed over her chest, as well.

But the girl had just incriminated herself. And apparently, everyone else had caught on to the folly before she did: Vanille stifled a giggle. Sonic's reaction wasn't all too flattering; "That's not creepy…!" he drawled. Nimue clucked haughtily, "Ha. Hah. Thought. So," wagging a finger in time with each word.

"Hey! No fair! I wasn't—honest!" the raccoon whined while diving back into the pillow pile. Her ringed, bushy tail was frazzled with embarrassment. Vanille decided to hop over and sweetly poke at the tail. But it batted back at her defensively. The rabbit griped a bit, defending herself against it.

"So…this is the one, hmm?"

Sonic dragged his sights away from the strange spectacle when he heard the somewhat familiar voice. Their eyes met. But Sonic was greeted by a big pair of goggles. A sweat drop clambered down his jawline. "Umm…you don't need to be so close…!"

"Nonsense, Knave!" the fox boy interjected, a bit overly grand for someone his age. "I want to go over every inch of you, so that I can verify you…make sure you're who the Old Man says you are…!" The hulking spectacles magnified the boy's eyes from Sonic's view. A bit too invasively, Miles started to examine him: from measuring his limbs with a tape measure and probing his ears, nose, and mouth to checking his reflexes with a tiny wrench and pressing an ear to the hedgehog's chest, Sonic prayed the boy knew what he was doing. With the end of an inspection came a confirming nod. "Hmm…seems tall. Seems to hear, smell, and speak fair enough. Seems to have good reflexes. And his insides sound alright." He was pocketing the tiny probe, wooden tongue press, tape measure, and wrench.

"So, does that all mean anything…?" Sonic asked, just as plainly skeptical as Nimue looked.

"Well, put simply, it could…if Escaflowne verifies it for us."

"Huh? You mean that big pet-dragon?"

"Gah! He isn't a 'pet,' clueless Knave!" The boy had suddenly gotten defensive. "He is the ingenious brainchild to the ancient, and well-respected, Ispano Tribe, the very tribe your ancestors hailed from! Escaflowne is the perfect marriage between biology, magic, and technology—as are all the dragons of the Draconian Aerie. He is the Aerie's Tempest Dragon, and only a wielder of the Sacred Broadsword Caliburn, imbued with the Magistralis Ensign is permitted to commission him!"

The intensity of the boy's explanation kind of made sense to Sonic. The "Tails" he knew was always passionate about anything technological, even if it was remotely so. And if his "Miles" knew what this "Miles" was talking about, his best guess would be seeing both fox boys geek out about it. What a strange, twin-like bond they'd shared, Sonic couldn't help shaking his head.

Miles patted a fist into his palm before showing Sonic a lecturing finger.

"Uh-oh…!" Nimue shrugged. "Here comes 'Part 2'…Blegh!" She spun on a heel and plugged a pinky into each ear.

"But I won't be explaining it here, if that helps." Miles smiled, cool and cute as can be.

Sonic gave him a confused look. As if to ask "Why not?". Vanille had plucked Marina out of the pillow pile by the tail and was bickering with her, when Miles chuckled. The smaller girls blinked at him; as Vanille giggled in return, Marina bubbled a cheek.


"It would be much more feasible for Escaflowne himself to explain it to you."

Miles was leading the way to wherever he was off to. Sonic, Vanille, Marina, and the trailing Nimue ended up following the fox. Majestic columns, fanciful balustrades, and whimsical tapestries were combined into the corridor's display. Reds, purples, and white were in most places as gold and jewels, blues and taupe, and porcelain or marble. Everywhere Sonic looked, everything was spick-and-span, but things like old weapons and books were left as they were. Sonic stopped to notice a line of framed papers. Each one bore tiny, scribbled lettering, and Sonic wondered how anyone could read it. But they ran down each page, like Chinese calligraphy. He counted them, and just as soon found himself over ten. He flinched, blinking wildly, and marched away like a toy soldier.

"Here! This is the Aerie's Hospice." Miles was pushing back the armored doors. "This is just a temporary roost, so I can't say for sure if Escaflowne is here…" he admitted, scratching the back of his head.

Beyond the doors was a barn-like interior. Metal and wooden rafters stood at each side, and a pulley system seemed to work all the way around the room. Not-too-rickety planks made up scaffolding at four different spots. The middle was open, the roof spacious and clear, and strange tracks ran in the floor, as if for a catapult. Across from them was a much bigger sliding door. It was closed, latched shut.

Sonic wandered in, shuffling through the floor's thatch.

"Escaflowne! Are you in here?" Miles called with a cupped hand. "Your master's here!"

"Whoa, wait. Master?" Sonic raised an eyebrow at the boy. Turning to him made all the color drain from his face. Froze him solid, scared him stiff.

There was something staring him dead in the face. A featureless obsidian mask. Saffron eyes looked like they were painted on; they were pearly, wide, downright scary.

Sonic struggled to catch his breath.

There was nothing else on that mask. Only those catlike saffron eyes, with circular saffron irises and just-as-circular pupils. Gawping at him, motionless and overly focused.

"W-W-What…? Is…? That?!" Sonic crept away from the black porcelain face. Before long, he'd tripped onto his backside, and was pointing a feverish finger at it. "And why is it looking at me like that?!"

The inverted-teardrop mask tilted to one side. Almost at a ninety-degree angle. Glimmering eye marks flickered between whole and semicircles. Like they were blinking slowly.

It only made Sonic squeal and grovel towards Miles, who'd trotted over to greet the mysterious new entity. The blue hedgehog repetitive "What is that?!" while cowering behind the fox boy dumbfounded him—especially since Sonic was considered the Kingdom's "Heir." Questioning if he had ever seen a dragon before, Miles shook his head after smoothing a hand over his face. He sighed roughly, "You are being extremely rude right now, you know that?"

But the bizarrely birdlike wyvern cocked its head from side to side. Its long neck's feathers bristled. It seemed to be blinking again. Curiously.

In a matter-of-fact tone, Miles went on to explain, "'This' just happens to be a dragon, clueless Knave. This dragon's name is Bastet, the Nocturne Dragon, of the Draconian Aerie. And she happens to be curious about you, is all."

Sonic's spines stiffened. A nervous smile quirked a lip's corner. "Th-That—That—That is a 'she'?!"

Saffron irises constricted, the upper "lids" of her eyes slanting inward. Agitation?

Sonic squeaked again. "Now, she's mad at me?!"

Nimue, Vanille, and Marina all shrugged. "You kept addressing her as an 'it.' Why wouldn't she be mad at you?" Nimue huffed. The Junior Messengers did the same.

"Wha—? Wait a minute, hey!" But that critical gaze beheld the blue hedgehog, and it silenced him instantly. Such a serious stare: If looks could kill, Sonic would've died two times over, already. Terrified jades couldn't turn away from the angry, glasslike ambers. The hedgehog gulped loudly.

"I think you should apologize now, clueless Knave." Tails wagged a finger at Sonic. Not bothered by the hedgehog-dragon deadlock, he went on with, "Bastet is a crucial member of the Aerie, since she operates well at night and as a navigator. Her special mask, alone, contains traces of a miraculous substance, which responds to Gaea's magnetic fields. Essentially, Bastet's face can act like a compass. She can control its responsiveness subconsciously, and she can even point out any direction on the Compass of Seïhl'dr!"

The dragon's snakelike neck made the mask bob up and down: A nod. A bit slow and menacing, but a silent acknowledgement to the truth behind Miles's explanation. Although, her eyes never turned away from Sonic's.

"Also, you should apologize simply due to her crucial companionship with Sir Percival. Bastet is personally commanded by the 3rd Viceroy-Knight, after all." Miles's shrug overflowed with mind-numbing obviousness. The Messenger Trio nodded grandly in agreement. "Yea, 'cas she's the bes' dragon eve'!" Marina cheered, hands in the air. "Yay!" little Vanille wasn't too far behind.

A cheerful expression overtook the dragon's face, now. Upturned semicircles denoted happiness and cheer, suddenly. Even giddy tweets trilled from an unknown place in the mask. Assuming the "mouthpiece" had vents of some kind, Sonic watched Miles and the girls pet Bastet. None of them seemed unnerved by her appearance. In fact, she made silly expressions with the featureless mask. Which wasn't truly a mask, but her face.

"That 'mask'…is her face?" Sonic was more than confused, at this point. "And she can smile, frown…and make faces with it…?" The color drained from his own face. "Freaky…so freaky…!"

One last curious glance from Bastet sent Sonic's mind into a maelstrom. Of complete unconsciousness. And utter incomprehensibility of anything that just happened.

So Much that It's Downright Creepy!


Quick Notes: Here are my English translations to a few more Gaean words/phrases:

Atzü'lu's Midrift - lunar period where Gaea's red moon, Atzü'lu, reaches the middle of the sky

Diurne - Gaea's equivalent to an Earth day's 24 hours, but slightly longer. In that respect, Ave Diurné / "Ahv Dee-ur-nay" literally means "Good day (to you)."