Revolt of the Archers

by Kal Ancalas

Yes, I'm alive. And I owe a few of you some explaining. Please spare a dozen minutes or so of your time, if you could.

10. Aslan

Chapter 10

Author's Note: You people jump to conclusions too quickly…Last chapter, you all thought Ark was dead, now you all think Marron's a hacker? That's new…

My greatest apologies for the great delay in updates. I blame a fever, massive writer's block, writing an essay about Rasputin, evil parents, and the slight downturn in the quality of reviews for that.

And for those who are slightly annoyed by the inconsistent plot flow; That's just the way I write, because unlike other authors with time on their hands, I'm not exactly thrilled about writing pages of filler to keep the plot in check. Unless you'd like to read page after page of "Zer killed (insert monster name here)', I can't help you. I am not a New York Times bestseller author. Yes, I am a lazy bum, but that is what high school and writer's block does to you. Besides, I haven't been playing Maple for ages (hence a lack of inspiration); the 'inconsistent' plot will hopefully get better in time. Then again, I'm not forcing you to read this, so if you're not perfectly satisfied with the plot, you can go read The Lone Crusader. It's shorter, but a hell of a lot better as far as plot/storyline is concerned.

Speaking of The Lone Crusader, there are slight spoilers for that story. (Although I do have the Chief's permission to do so.)

Oh, and although you won't notice, I revised Chapters 1, 2, 5, and 6 (as well as replaced one word in Chapter 3). There are no major differences, just correcting a few minor errors and replacing certain adjectives that I didn't like. I will revise the rest of the story later when I have time

So, just enjoy the longest chapter ever.

---

Damn, damn, damn.

The expletive rooted itself in Ryden's mind as he raced furiously through the forests of Henesys to the dry plains of Perion. He tried to reassure himself that Marron was not going to do what he expected him to do, but Ryden knew his teammate all too well. Marron had an explosive temper and would frequently unleash it out of Seles' hearing. It wouldn't be too far to say…that he would even harbor a hate against someone to the point of death.

Swiftly, he drew his katana, cutting through the underbrush in his way. No doubt Phoenix had to be somewhere near Perion; he couldn't have strayed far from the scene of the crime. Marron probably knew that as well.

"Ackk!" He swore as he emerged from the bushes into the Perion sunlight, bright spots exploding into his eyes. Panting, he looked around wildly until his sight returned. Dust blew over the dry landscape, stinging his eyes. He pulled his bandana farther down his forehead and glanced down at the ground.

Footprints. Drawing his blade, he cast a glance at the dusty marks in the ground before running as swiftly as he could, his greaves clinking against the dry plateau.

-----

Somberly, the remaining survivors of the attack near Henesys stood on their bloodied land.

"I…never thought it would come to this." Ark muttered, staring at his bloodied axe with a kind of abhorrent look.

"Neither did I." Ascion sighed darkly, his blood-spattered robe fluttering ominously in the dry breeze. "But we did what we had to."

"It's not going to do these bodies any good if we just let them stay here." Tales sighed, folding his arms. "We'll have to bury them."

"Agreed." Slowly, half of the people on the field hoisted corpses onto their shoulders while the other half hollowed makeshift graves in the ground nearby.

Only Traphes Igzarion remained standing where he was; he cast a sort of despondent look over the landscape, then shrugging his shoulders listlessly, his dark hair flowing over them, he walked back into the mansion.

Out of the corner of her eye, Natalia Arundale saw him; slowly, she murmured a few quick words to Tales and silently trailed after him.

Darkly, Igzarion trudged to the kitchen. Suddenly, a spasm of pain seemed to overtake him and he stopped dead in his tracks, clutching at his head fervently. "Sonofabitch." he swore, rubbing his temples until the pain abated; he staggered to the refrigerator and opened it, pulling out a steel cocktail shaker.

He poured the brass-colored liquid inside into a nearby glass and sat at the table, eyeing it with some contempt; he picked up the glass, but someone else's hand also seized it.

"Don't drink that, Iggy." Arundale said darkly, her long eyelashes casting a shadow over her pupils. "You know that stuff isn't good for you-"

"Does it look like I have a choice?" Igzarion retorted flatly, snatching the glass out of her hand and downing it in one gulp. He limply fell back into his seat, letting his dark hair dangle down towards the floor.

"Iggy…" She slowly ran her fingers along his palm. "You can't…"

There was a slurred mumble of protest from the limp figure next to her.

-----

"Marron…" Zeraion Phoenix stared at the figure towering over him with its blade raised. "Don't-"

"Silence, Phoenix!" Marron roared, his face contorted with fury. He swung the fiery sword again, but out of anger it missed the bowman's head by a few inches, instead colliding with the stone wall and creating a large flood of sparks.

Damn it. Painfully, Phoenix staggered to his feet. "Inferno!" he roared, snapping his fingers.

A large burst of flame erupted from his fingertips and hurled itself at Marron; he raised his sword to block the incoming attack and charged again, narrowly missing once more.

Quickly, Phoenix saw the opening and raised his bow, but he faltered. I'm not going to kill another innocent victim because of this.

Marron saw his opponent's moment of hesistation and didn't pause; with an almighty roar, he wrenched his Doombringer out of the stone and launched himself at Phoenix.

Without warning, a voice rang through the cavern and roared, "Shout!"

Marron was thrown off his feet by the new arrival and crashed into the wall; he staggered to his feet to see a raven-haired figure standing before him, katana poised.

"Ryden?" Marron's eyebrows flew up in surprise. "What the hell are you doing?"

"That's exactly what I wanted to ask you, Dariel." Ryden said darkly, not taking his eyes off Marron. "Why are you doing this? Killing Phoenix isn't going to bring back the people that died-"

"What would you have me do?!" Marron retorted furiously in anger, charging at Ryden. Swiftly, Ryden brought his sword up to guard as the two crusaders met in a shower of sparks. Growling, both warriors pushed their swords against each other, not willing to yield.

"You don't know what it's like." Marron snarled. "How would you feel if you saw all those innocent lives being taken? You would have to avenge them too-"

"Did you not forget that I was with you that night?" Ryden retorted, returning Marron's glare with equal force. "There will be revenge in the end, I assure you, but not like this."

"Ryden, get out of the way, or I will have to kill you as well." Marron said in a final tone.

"Go ahead and try…Dariel Moron." Ryden gave his opponent a snide grin.

Marron's pupils seemed to explode with fury. "I will make those words your last, Ryden!" He slowly murmured some incantation under his breath. Red lines of energy began to flow from his palms into the blackened steel of his blade, illuminating it a bloody crimson in the light.

The hell? Ryden's eyes widened in astonishment as he struggled furiously to withstand Marron's increased strength. That doesn't look like any crusader arte I know…

"SACRIFICE!" Marron roared, swinging his blade in a great arc towards Ryden. With a massive clang, his great sword impacted furiously against Ryden's thinner brand, sending it flying out of his hand. Swearing, a blister on his palm where the grip of the blade had rubbed, Ryden looked up in time to hear a roar of "Dragon Buster!"

Three great blasts of blue energy impacted against Ryden, sending him skidding backwards across the floor and lying painfully on his back with deep cracks in his armor.

No…no way…He just used a Dragon Knight ability…That's impossible…

Still swearing under his breath, Ryden cast a gaze over to his sword, lying in the dust. The force of Marron's strike had created a deep gash in the red blade, rendering it somewhat useless for further heavy combat. Ryden's heart caught at the sight of his ruined weapon; however, he saw Marron bearing swiftly down on him again.

Shoot! He leapt painfully out of the way as Marron's blade made a deep rift in the sun-baked earth. I can't do much with my bare hands. He raised a palm and roared, "Shout!" The resulting blast of energy impacted forcefully against Marron and sent him sprawling for the moment.

Swiftly, Ryden ran over to Phoenix, his Arund still strung. "You okay?"

"Yeah." Phoenix had a drawn look on his face. "Even though he tried to kill me, I can still see his point of view." His grip on his bow seemed to slacken. "I can't shoot him now. That would be playing into Gault's hands."

"I know." Ryden muttered. "But that aside, it's not going to be a good lookout if he kills us. Do you have a sword?"

"Here." Zeraion handed Ryden his Traus.

"How do you expect me to use this piece of-"

"Do I look like Seles to you?" the ranger muttered, his eyes now focusing on the ground.

Ryden cast the blade a dark look before returning his attention to Marron, his blade raised once more. He raised the Doombringer. "Dragon Fury!"

The resulting wave of energy created another deep gash in the ground and snapped the blade of the Traus in half; Ryden staggered backwards, staring at the broken hilt in his hands.

"That helped." he muttered, tossing the remains of the sword aside. "I know you can't kill him, but stun him or something! Do you want us to die now?!"

Phoenix's mouth felt like sandpaper. "R-right." He aimed the sight of his bow at Marron and materialized the arrow. "Arrow Bomb!"

The resulting explosion caught Marron unawares; when the smoke cleared, he slowly staggered to his feet, a burn streaked across his armor. Once more, he raised his sword, but in typical fashion, another voice rang out before his.

"Shout!"

Marron flew backwards and hit the stone wall, as both Zeraion and Ryden turned to look at the newcomer.

"Hey." Ark Wolfen raised his Helios in greeting. "Sorry it took so long. Henesys really needs to do maintenance work on the rainforest."

"When'd you start following me?" Ryden asked suspiciously.

"Since both you and Marron disappeared from the place." Ark ran a hand through his disheveled hair.

"Did you see his-"

"Yeah." He raised his axe. "You don't have a sword?"

"It broke." Ryden shrugged. "That aside, I-"

"Wolfen?" Marron's voice sounded somewhat skeptical, as though he couldn't believe the sight in front of his eyes. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"You can save the questions for later, Dariel. What I want to know is why exactly you're trying to kill my younger brother."

"You don't understand." Marron sighed, a kind of desolate, inane look in his eyes. "The people of Perion…were all slaughtered…"

Ryden sighed. "We've been through this already-"

"I…have to avenge them…It's my duty…as the heir…to the warriors…!"

"Marron…What the hell are you talking about?" Ark said slowly.

"None of you…will ever understand me!" the lone crusader roared, his Doombringer raised to the sky. "This ends now!" Purple lightning began to flash from the tip of his blackened blade.

"DRAGON ROAR!" Dariel Marron bellowed, slamming the great haft of his sword into the ground. Lavender-shaded bolts of electricity began to erupt from the ground, spreading from Marron's sword and viciously turning the ground into rubble. Zeraion, Ryden, and Ark were all caught in the blast radius of the attack and were thrown into the air, landing limply onto the shattered ground.

Marron fastidiously surveyed the remains of the landscape, sheathing his great sword. Ark and Ryden managed to stagger to their knees, staring at their former comrade with a mixture of hate and shock.

"Ark…Ryden…I'm sorry." Marron said, slowly.

Then he slowly walked off the dry plateau without another word.

"Damn…it!" Ryden got to his feet, pulling Ark up. "How could he…"

"No time for that." Ark brushed dust off of his armor, droplets of blood streaking his face. "Where's Zer?"

"Over…there." Ryden said, turning his gaze to a limp figure nearby. "Looks like he got the brunt of the attack…"

Both crusaders rushed over to Phoenix and hefted him up. "Damn it. He doesn't look too good."

"It's nothing Ascion can't heal." Ark hoisted his brother's legs over his broad shoulders. "More importantly, we need to find Seles as soon as possible. I have a feeling he knows something about this."

"Yes." Ryden lifted Zeraion over his head. "Perhaps one of the only Dark Knights left in this world can help us."

-----

"Hey, Natalia." Tales said, walking slowly into the kitchen. "How's Iggy?"

"He's fine." she said, still sitting by his side. "You know how he is when he…"

"I know." He sighed. "He was the one who made us all the spawn of the devil himself."

"Do you think he had a choice, Rysdale?" Arundale turned to eye the sniper darkly. "You know as well as I what he's had to go through. No one would choose such a fate."

"I said I know." he said gently, taking her hand. "And yet, we still chose to stand by him, when the rest of Henesys were prepared to go after him with pitchforks and torches."

"Rysdale…" She eyed him with an extremely serious look. "I know what he did was unforgivable, but…it's all that he can do, I mean, look at him!" She suddenly buried her hands in her face and began to sob.

"There, there." He put his hand on her shoulder. "We're in this together. Even though he might be an airhead and a prick sometimes, we all still love Iggy…"

She threw a dry smile at him. "You're lucky he's still out cold."

"Don't make me shrottle you, Ryshdale." came the muffled growl of the limp figure nearby.

"Whatever, Iggy." Tales said, playfully thumping him on the back. "So," he said, assuming a more serious expression, "what are you planning to do in regards to Gault?"

"Besides track him down and shoot him, nothing much." she said, wiping her eyes with a tissue.

"Thought so." He shrugged and adjusted his glasses. "You might like to know that Phoenix is back, by the way."

Arundale's head immediately snapped to attention, and even Igzarion stirred a little. "What?!"

"Yes. Thankfully, he's in one piece, although…as usual, he's a bit banged up." He inclined his head slightly, then left.

"Damn it, Phoenix…What is it with you and these accidents with everyone?" She shook her head, then slowly rubbed Igzarion's hand before following the sniper.

-----

A battered Ark and Ryden burst through the front doors carrying the body of Zeraion Phoenix on their shoulders; Ascion knocked over his chair and rushed over to them, but exhaled in relief when he saw that the wounds were not serious.

"Again?" Joseph Stalrigarde eyed the limp figure of Zeraion Phoenix stretched out on the floor as he cracked his knuckles. "First Ark, now Zer…" He cast a glance at the chocolate-haired priest next to him. "You better start saying your prayers, Ascion."

"Shut up." Ascion took out his Phoenix Wand and murmured a quick spell, closing up his brother's wounds. "That wasn't terribly serious, but I think he needs a good night's rest before going out."

"Yeah, well, it's good to have him back and all that." Ryden sighed. "Come along, Ark. We have to find Seles. I suspect he'll be in the Dangerous Valley."

"Aren't you going to get yourselves healed?" Ascion called after them.

"And risk wasting a few precious seconds of my time?" Ryden retorted, before shutting the door in the priest's face.

"What's up with him?" Ascion murmured, before slowly lifting Zeraion over his shoulders and going upstairs.

-----

Slowly, Keiga Seles exhaled as he meditated in the Dangerous Valley, sitting motionlessly on a rock. The dangerous fire drakes lumbered cautiously around the figure. Normally, they would have immediately bared their jaws against the human, but they knew well enough to leave the Dark Knight alone.

Perion…my birthplace and home…has been destroyed. But there's not really much I can do about it, is there…

With a deep sigh, he shifted his position, taking the time to appreciate the gentle wind lapping against his cheeks as his auburn hair fluttered in the air.

"Master Seles! Snap out of it! There's something really important we need to ask you!"

Slightly put out, Seles opened his eyes. "What is it, Ryden? You know better than to disturb me when I am contemplating my state of affairs."

"Sorry." Ryden panted, out of breath; a second later, the slightly taller figure of Ark Wolfen appeared behind him. "But this is about Marron…"

"Really?" A look of interest manifested itself in the Dark Knight's eyes. "Go on."

"Master, what have you been hiding from us?" Ark demanded, making a fist.

"Whatever do you mean by that, Wolfen?" Seles asked, a look of surprise on his face.

"There's something about Marron that's different from all your other students." Ryden said hurriedly. "He was your first student. You must have done…something to him."

"What could you possibly mean?" Seles returned, but there was now a shadow of discontent behind his eyes.

"It's a long story." Ark sighed.

"Well, I'm not going to get any younger listening to you two. Go on."

"After the incident with Phoenix in Perion, Marron went…" Ryden winced. "Well, for lack of a better word, he kinda went insane."

"Apparently…" Ark sighed. "He was one of the people who tried to track down Zer."

"Indeed. I heard reports of renegade forces from Perion, Kerning, and Ellinia attempting to chase down Zeraion." Seles cracked his knuckles. "So, it seems Marron beat them all to the punch, did he?"

"In a way, yeah." Ryden shrugged. "And then he tried to kill him."

Like Rathias Gardner before him, Seles' stone expression faltered for a split second. "Excuse me?" he said, blinking slightly.

"Dariel…Marron…tried…to…kill…Zeraion…Phoenix." Ark said dryly.

Seles shot Ark a dry look before saying, "Yes, Wolfen, I think I know that. Are you sure this-"

"Yes, he tried to kill Phoenix!" Ryden almost screamed, rumpling his hair. "And then he tried to kill us as well!"

"Calm down, Ryden." Seles said darkly. "What I mean to say is, are you sure that-"

"We saw it with our own eyes, Master!" Ryden growled. "But that's not the point. Marron was able to use the abilities of a Dragon Knight as well. Buster, Sacrifice, and Roar."

"And you…are a Dragon Knight." Ark said. "So, naturally, we figured there had to be some connection…"

"Please." Ryden's eyes were wide with anticipation. "Tell us. How exactly was Marron- a Crusader- able to use the techniques of a Dragon Knight?"

"Yes, that should be interesting to hear." Ark said, staring at Seles with a steely glare.

Seles scrutinized the sky for a full minute, breathing deeply as he sat. Neither Ark nor Ryden dared to speak, knowing that the great man was trying to decide whether or not to reveal this information. Finally, he returned his cold stare to his remaining two students.

"Are you sure…you want to know?" he said slowly, in a tone Ark and Ryden had not heard him use before. "What I can tell you may shake you."

Both crusaders exchanged glances before saying, without hesitation, "Yes."

"Then sit down," Seles said, now eyeing his students with a very serious expression, "and listen well."

-----

"Where is everyone?" Arklanser sighed, marching into the room. "It's like a cemetery here…"

She immediately caught the dark irony of her remark. "Sorry."

"Doesn't matter." Tales sighed. "Ryden and Ark went off to find Seles, Marron's on the run, Schuyler and Joe went off to Kerning, Ascion and Iris are in Ellinia for medical duty…" He counted them off on his fingers. "Oh yeah, Gardner also went off somewhere. He said he needed to clear his mind."

"Figures." She slumped down onto the couch. "You never know. Gault might decide to destroy Henesys just for the fun of it."

Tales cast her a dry look. "Even though Gault is terribly messed up in the head, I seriously doubt even he would do something like that. If anything, he'll probably make this place the capital of his impending dictatorship when he takes over the world."

"You're so optimistic." she muttered.

"Yes, I know." He stretched himself out on the sofa, just as Arundale re-entered the room.

"Do you mind?" she asked, whereas Tales reluctantly removed his feet from the cushion. "Sorry. Is Iggy any better?"

"He's fine. He just got a little…knocked up by his drink, as usual." She sunk herself onto the sofa. "I wish there was something we could do to help him."

"Natalia…" Arklanser's voice was surprisingly gentle. "We've done all we can."

"There has to be a way." She clenched a fist. "Some kind of spell or arte. He can't live like this much longer."

"Do you think that we've stopped searching for a solution?" Tales brushed some of his amber hair out of his eyes. "We can't remove it, as you very well know. The most we can do is suppress it."

"Suppress what, exactly?" a voice came from the foot of the stairs.

"Phoenix!" Arundale yelped, nearly falling off the sofa. "How long have you been-"

"Enough to know that something's seriously messed up with Iggy…although I kinda knew that from the start." He shrugged and leaned against the railing of the stairs, his blonde hair falling over his eyes. There was a strange look on his face, as though he'd aged several years.

The rest of the bowmen exchanged dark looks.

"He…has an illness of sorts." Tales said darkly.

"Really?" Phoenix raised an eyebrow in mock surprise. "Why am I not surprised?"

Arundale rolled her eyes. "Well, that being the case, I think you should know that he…has a sort of condition. From what we know, it's extremely detrimental to his health and…well, he has to take alcohol to suppress the effects. It's not a pleasant prospect, but it's…"

"Oh." Phoenix seemed thoughtful for a moment, then sighed. "Well…that kinda sucks. Tell him I hope he feels better. I'm going to go outside and train for a bit."

"Whatever suits you, Phoenix." Tales shrugged, still reclining on the sofa.

Phoenix unsheathed his bow and proceeded to walk out. As he left, he muttered silently under his breath, "You guys need to get better at making up stories…"

He shook his head and crossed the threshold of the great doors, stepping into the sunlight. The remains of crimson snow remained on the ground.

-----

"It's…so quiet." Iris gaped as she beheld the ruins of the once-great town of Ellinia.

"Yes. Too quiet." Ascion sighed. The city, being situated in the highly flammable forest, had suffered the worst damage during the raid. It was estimated that a third of the population was now dead, and another third was under the care of the understatedly overworked healing forces. Being one of Grendel's top students and a priest, Ascion had been given a high position in Ellinia's reconstruction forces.

Amidst all of the rubble, Ascion walked up towards a stray boulder and pressed his palm against it, uttering an incantation. The boulder glowed for a moment, then shivered and slid aside, revealing a hidden trapdoor in the ground. Ascion then muttered another spell and pulled up the trapdoor, revealing a large underground hospital. Magicians dressed in white coats and goggles were dashing around hurriedly, tending to limp figures in beds.

"Chief Medical Officer Ascion Blade!" A sweaty-faced ice wizard, a few inches taller than Ascion and the same height as Iris, dashed up to the pair. "It's good to see you're here."

"Same to you." Ascion sighed. "What are today's stats?"

The wizard grimaced. "We had about a hundred deaths today, sir. It was a stray infection that managed to escape our sterilization processes."

"Shoot!" Ascion cracked his knuckles, a ripple of tense pops sounding through the air. "Did you contain it?"

"Yes. However, it gave us all quite a scare." The wizard shook his head. "Grendel put you on duty today as supervisor for wards Omicron, Sigma, and Epsilon."

"The death slums, huh?"

"Indeed. Hopefully, you'll be able to reverse the fatality rate."

"I'm flattered." Another wizard ran up to Ascion, greeting him and handing him a white lab coat and a pair of goggles. He dressed himself and left Iris at the containment gate, walking through a complicated-looking disinfection machine. It ran on magitechnology and had recently been designed by several healers.

"Medical Officer Blade, sir!" A third wizard ran up to Ascion and handed him a scroll. "You all right? We have to continue our work on developing a new wide-range healing arte…These are our latest findings…"

"Tell me something I don't know." Ascion grumbled, running a gloved hand through his hair. "Have you guys made any progress?"

"Well…" Another cleric appeared from the side; she had short, dark hair and was clutching a stack of files covered with scribbled notes and equations. "We did come up with a new procedure that had a 50 percent success rate-"

"Meaning that if we use it, the other 50 percent of the wounded will die." Ascion said darkly. "We can't afford that. Let me see that," he added, snatching the top file out of her hands and reading it. "Geez, how do you guys get along without me?"

"Very badly, sir?" the wizard offered sheepishly.

"Never mind. I'll work on it. The rest of you, put down your quills and start picking up hypodermic syringes. I'm putting you all on nurse duty." The other two nodded and ran off in another direction, leaving Ascion with the files.

"Seriously…" He sighed and walked into a small room with a few potted plants, several reams of parchment, quill pens with ink, and a table. "And they call me 'sir' even though I'm the youngest person in this place." He took a glance at the previous files and began to scribble equations onto a sheet of wrinkled paper.

A minute later, Grendel, the leader of Ellinia, walked in.

"Medical Officer Blade?" he called. Ascion looked up from his work.

"Even you, too?" Ascion sighed, laying down his pen. "You know I dislike that title…"

"But it can't be helped." Grendel said bluntly. "You are, after all, pretty much the only person around here who knows enough about magic theory to devise a new healing arte."

"Yeah, well…" Ascion rumpled his hair. "At least there aren't any major infections floating around; that would really trigger a bad pandemic. Right now, healing the wounded is all we can do."

"It doesn't help that nearly all of our support healers were killed in the incident." Grendel sighed. "We have very few clerics able to keep up with the sheer number of the injured."

"Tell me about it. Look at this!" Ascion shoved a piece of paper towards Grendel. "Those morons messed up a couple of variables in their equations. So their so-called success rate is actually closer to thirty or forty percent…"

"Those so-called morons are doing the best they can." Grendel said gently.

"I know, I know." Ascion sighed, his hand flying across the parchment feverishly. "But seriously…I can't help but feel that the weight of this whole thing is on my shoulders. Just because I'm the Chief Medical Officer, everyone expects me to come up with a solution for this! Not to mention that Zeraion Phoenix also conveniently happens to be my brother…"

There was a noise like a pop gun as the tip of the priest's quill snapped, flying halfway across the room. He froze in mid-sentence on the paper, the ruined writing implement leaking ink all over the sheet. Grendel regarded him with a knowing expression.

"Damn it." he sighed, siphoning off the spilt ink with a snap of his fingers. "I can't blame Zer for this. After all…he and Ark are the only family I have left. And I know he would never do anything like that."

"I know." Grendel sighed. "Athena gave us all quite a bit of hell about that. She maintains that it's Gault Isentryx that was the real perpetrator of this incident, and we more or less believe her now. But-"

"-the rest of the world won't." Ascion finished. "Yeah, I know. I've…had to kill some people in defense of my beliefs." He looked silently at his page of scribbles. "I've…killed many innocent people. In a way, I'm no worse than Zer."

"Yes. We heard about the incident near Henesys. Rathias Gardner relayed that to Athena, who in turn told us about it. We've been trying to suppress the rebellions for the most part, but there are still some fanatics who believe that Phoenix is the criminal."

"Well…That's just their loss." Ascion sighed. "In the end, anyone who thinks Phoenix is the criminal is just a pawn in Gault's hands…And if we don't kill them, Gault eventually will."

"Words from the mouth of a wise man indeed." Grendel said with a dry, yet satisfied look.

Ascion said nothing as he removed a new quill from his desk drawer and glanced back to his equations listlessly, working them out for a few minutes as Grendel watched. Occasionally, he scribbled so hard that he left inky rips in the parchment.

"Not bad, Blade." Grendel said after a while.

"I've only been able to improve the success rate of their procedure by a few percent." Ascion slumped over the table. "This is hopeless."

"Maybe not." Grendel's gaze sharpened. "I stayed up late last night doing some arcane theory of my own. Using a few archaic theorems, I think I was able to come up with a far more efficient procedure than that." He drew a tightly bound scroll from his robe and handed it to the priest.

Ascion slit open the scroll and read it. "Master, this is amazing! I never would have thought of using those corollaries…" His face fell. "But it has a projected success rate of 75 percent. That means that-"

"25 percent of Ellinia's injured will die, I know." Grendel sighed deeply. "However, I haven't been able to come up with anything more efficient. I've exhausted just about every known theorem in existence, and this is the best we can do."

"That…" Ascion bit his lip, staring at the scroll in his hand.

"It's your decision on whether to use the arte or not. You're the Chief Medical Officer, after all."

"But I-"

"You can either use this technique that will save three-quarters of Bera's wounded and put the other quarter out of their misery, or you can continue to languish in this room and wait for those people to die. It's your choice."

Ascion opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out; he stared at Grendel, who only returned his incredulous gaze with a knowing stare and walked firmly out of the room.

-----

"So…you wish to know exactly how Dariel Marron was able to use the abilities of a Dragon Knight, then?" Seles asked his students, casting them a glare that said, There's no turning back.

"Of course." Both Ryden and Ark nodded.

"Very well, then. You're both grown crusaders, and I don't have the right to withhold this information from you any longer." He cracked his knuckles, then began his tale.

"Gardner told you about he and I became friends, went to Zakum, and attained the fourth class, I assume?" he asked. Both crusaders nodded.

"Then, in that case, my story picks up from that point." He breathed a few lungfuls of the cool evening air. "Zakum Altar was not exactly the most hospitable place for two level 70 adventurers to be. So…" He sighed. "Rathias and I attacked the great monolith to the greatest of our abilities. It was indeed a titanic battle, I tell you. We fought to our limits, using all our strength and techniques. In the end, we were forced to use a technique known as a third release. Did Gardner tell you what that is?"

"Yes." Ryden nodded. "It's when you use Final Attack with a third-class technique, is that correct?"

"Indeed." Seles inclined his head. "Both of us were extremely competent with Final Attack, but even this ability was still out of our reach. This technique, we had been told, was not to be used except by the strictest of experts. The resulting mana would probably destroy one's body from the inside out. Nevertheless, Rathias and I were so desperate that we would probably have been killed anyway. So…" Seles exhaled. "Using Dragon Roar and Inferno in conjunction, we stunned Zakum for a precious second; leaving it vulnerable while we harnessed the third release. Using the stray mana from our unison attack, we generated an immensely powerful amount of unstable energy and flung it at the huge rock without stopping to consider what the result of our actions might be."

There was a tense silence from Ark and Ryden; it seemed even the drakes had quieted a little. "Suffice it to say that the resulting blast was enough to severely weaken Zakum, allowing us to finish it off and seal it back in the depths of the lava. However, as we unfortunately discovered, the third release had indeed proved to be too much for us. It was only by the fact that our mana was combined that we managed to survive the episode. My left arm was immolated, and Gardner suffered the loss of his right arm."

"What do you mean by that?" Ark asked confusedly. "Your left arm seems fine, and Gardner can use his right arm perfectly well when using his bow…"

In answer, Seles held out the palm of his left hand, and as Ark and Ryden watched, dropped a small pebble from his right hand into his left. The pebble landed on the Dark Knight's palm, then quivered and rolled off, hitting the ground with a light noise.

"My arm has lost all use." Seles said placidly. "It has no strength, no veins or arteries to carry blood through it, no nerves for it to register feeling. I cannot even muster the strength to hold a miniscule stone in my left hand for more than a second; it remains only through the support of arcane enchantments. My arm is now no more than a useless bauble dangling from my shoulder. I have been forced to learn how to use a spear with only one hand."

"Then what about Gardner?" Ryden asked.

"Rathias was different." Seles sighed, turning his gaze to the sky. "He did not suffer as much from the third release as I did, presumably because his technique required far less mana than mine. The nerves and vessels of his arm were severely damaged, but were still present, unlike mine, which had been…vaporized."

Ignoring the disturbed look on his students' faces, Seles continued. "In any case, he knew that the loss of his arm would mean the end of his archery abilities. He underwent severe physiotherapy from Athena to regain the use of his limb. It took well over a year, but eventually, he was able to restore his arm to its former use. I, of course, was not so lucky…"

He broke off his dazed expression. "But never mind that. I was shattered by the loss of my left arm, but was determined to overcome this at all costs. Under the guidance of Sitting Bull, I trained my remaining arm furiously to be able to wield a spear efficiently once more. It was long, arduous work; every day, I would stare at myself in the mirror and wonder, Is this what the power of Final Attack has come to? Instead of making me strong, it has crippled me. Yet…nevertheless, I won't let this defeat me. Someday, I will be able to use a spear once more. Those words instilled confidence in me and gave me the ability to succeed."

He took a long glance at Ark and Ryden, then continued. "About a year after the loss of my arm, I was exceptionally fluent in the use of a spear with only one hand, being able to hold my own against peers with two hands. It was about this time that Sitting Bull decided to train me formally in using the third release to prevent a similar accident from happening. Every day, I would relentlessly channel magic through my arm, striving to achieve the successful use of Final Attack with a third-class ability."

"Master, I hate to interrupt, but where exactly does all this bullsh-" He coughed. "-stuff tie in with Marron?" Ark asked.

Seles cast a dry glance at Ark. "Impatient, aren't you, Wolfen? Well, suffice to say, I did eventually master the third release, being the first warrior besides Sitting Bull to ever have done so. That being the case, simply put, after some careful deliberation, Sitting Bull decided to adopt me as the heir to the leader of the warriors."

"Y-" Both Ark and Ryden spluttered. "You're…the future leader of the warriors?"

"Yes, I am." Seles said calmly. "Is that really too surprising to know after you found out that I was a Dark Knight?"

These was no legible response from either crusader; Seles sighed. "Well…that aside, after being ordained as the heir to the warriors, I was told of something called class fusion."

"What exactly is that?"

"Exactly what it sounds like. There are divisions of the four base classes, as you well know. Warriors can become Crusaders, White Knights, or Dragon Knights. It would be a bad lookout if the leader of the warriors was only able to train spearmen…eh?"

A look of understanding spread over Ryden's face. "Oh, I see…"

"Yes. Wolfen, do you recall that question that you asked me some years ago?"

"Yes…"

"Well, now you're old enough to know the answer. As part of my intensive training to keep up with the responsibility of being the leader of the warriors, I was told to learn the arts of the crusaders and white knights. To make a very painful and tedious story short, I completed the training and went into exile for a little bit at Ossyria to become a Dark Knight." He cracked his knuckles. "So there you have it."

"What exactly did training in the arts of a crusader and white knight entail?"

"Too much to tell in one sitting." Seles said, standing up and brushing dust off his armor. "So now that I've told that story, you two can shut up now."

"Wait." Ark said slowly, his eyes narrowing. "You never did answer our original question. That explains how you became a Dark Knight and all that, but that still doesn't say how Marron gained the ability to fuse classes. Marron might have been your first student, but there's no way he could have done class fusion. He hasn't mastered a third release."

Seles froze. "Wolfen…You're sharp." he said, his mouth breaking into a grim smile.

"Explain it, Master." Ryden demanded. "How…was Marron able to do those things?"

For the first time ever, a look of something resembling sadness flashed in Seles' eyes. "Do you really want to know?"

"You asked us that about a hundred times already!" Ryden snapped impatiently. "Yes, we want to know!"

Seles opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. As Ark and Ryden watched in surprise, something flashed lightly in the corner of the Dark Knight's eye, and he blinked profusely, turning his face somewhat away from his students.

Keiga Seles, the Dark Knight and the legendary heir to the leadership of the warriors, was…crying.

"Aslan…" he whispered, almost too quietly to hear. "Forgive me…"

-----

"Strafe!"

A quartet of spectral lances flew from the bow and struck the ground neatly in a straight line. Not pausing to catch his breath, Zeraion dashed forward, his palm raised.

"Inferno!" he commanded, the ground exploding forcefully, sending chunks of ice and earth everywhere. Panting, he drew a line in the snow and fell to his knees.

"Still slow." He swore lightly and pounded his fist against the frozen ground.

You're expecting too much from yourself.

"I don't care." Zeraion said, shouldering the Arund and returning to the fore of the range. "Did you see what Marron was able to do?" He raised the heavy bow and drew back the string again. "It looks like I still have a long way to go before I can think about facing off against Gault."

You could have easily killed him. It was out of pity that you let him live.

"It wasn't pity!" Zeraion snapped, the arrow flying out of his hand at a wild angle. "Killing him would be exactly what Gault wants. That whole deal was just to cause internal discord. Now everyone's out for my blood…" He sighed, redrawing the string. "Arrow Rain!" A series of turquoise rays burst from the air and buried themselves in the ground. "He really thought this out through."

So…what do you expect Isentryx is up to? I highly doubt he is idly watching you.

"Actually, he very well might be." Zeraion said, closing his eyes. "Strafe!" Four more arrows shot from his string and flew through the air; without pausing, he swept his hand down the string and plucked it, the resulting note cutting through the cold air. "Arrow Vanquisher!"

Several rounds of sky-blue, spectral flak materialized from the air and shot towards the ground, hitting the ground with vicious bursts of lightning.

You've improved.

"Indeed. But not nearly enough." With an almost mechanical air, he raised the bow to his shoulder and took aim again. "Inferno…" Bolts of lightning and flame combined at the tips of his fingers, forming themselves into a great helical shaft. "Omega Crush Rain!"

The great bolt of energy flew from his hands with a loud screeching pulse and flew into the sky before returning to earth in several bolts of fiery lightning, torching the ground with several explosive retorts. Zeraion sighed darkly and raked a hand through his hair.

"String broke." he muttered, flinging away the ruined fibers and retying another strand of drake's gut around the tips of the Arund. "This is a mess…"

You're being much too harsh on yourself. I myself would have been overjoyed to be able to use fusion artes with half as much mastery as yours.

The ranger only shrugged darkly and flexed the bowstring before loading another spectral arrow. A thoughtful look crossed his face, though, and he let the bow fall to his side. "Perhaps this would be a good time to try out that doppelganger thing that Athena talked about." He closed his eyes and concentrated the magic, setting his fingers together. "Puppet…Doppelganger!"

The air rippled for a moment before a figure popped out of thin air, with blonde hair, turquoise eyes, and a Pris robe, shouldering a spectral-colored Arund. Zeraion eyed the figure with a dark air. So, this is the magic that Isentryx used in his destruction of the world…

Indeed.

"You don't waste words, do you?" Zeraion stared at his duplicate for another second before snapping his fingers, causing it to disappear. "The longer I idle here, the longer Gault has to hone his skills."

You're definitely mature for your age.

"Athos, just shut up and let me train, alright?!" Phoenix made a rude hand gesture in the air. There was a ripple of something resembling frustrated amusement emanating from the ancient weapon; sighing, Phoenix raised his bow again. "Sorry. It's just that…I really have a great responsibility to bear now. You, of all people, should know that."

Yes, I understand. I apologize.

Zeraion sighed once more before closing his eyes and focusing the magic in his fingers, causing the bowstring to ignite with spectral flame. He let the fire meld itself into a deadly projectile before releasing the magic. "Inferno!"

The bolt of flame leapt across the ground, creating a great cloud of steam as the snow melted underneath it. Without pausing as the unstable magic particles flowed up around him, he gathered the charged energy to his weapon for another attack. "Final…Attack!"

A vicious blast of white light erupted from Phoenix's body in the shape of a great dragon's head and ripped through the snow with even more devastating force; Zeraion fell to the ground and watched in stunned exhilaration as the destructive magic proceeded to annihilate several hundred feet of landscape. The snow ran crimson as blood leaked from scars in the downed ranger's arms.

"That…was amazing." he managed to utter out loud, his breath a frosty cloud in the cold air. "I never thought that using Final Attack with a third-class skill would be so…"

Powerful?

"Utterly destructive is more like it." He staggered painfully to his feet. "If only I could totally master this technique, I could destroy Gault in a heartbeat." He cast a dark glance at his arms. "I can't remember the last time I got one of these…"

"Neither can I." The tall figure of Rathias Gardner appeared on the field.

"Gardner!" Phoenix raised his eyebrows in surprise. "How long have you been-"

"Enough to know you've improved much since the first time we met." the bowmaster shrugged, folding his arms in a familiar manner and eyeing Phoenix strangely. "Am I to assume that that was the first time you performed a third release?"

"Y-yes." Zeraion stammered, slightly put out. "How did I…"

"One can only guess." Gardner's expression did not waver. "For one to use the third release without killing oneself is an extremely exceptional occurrence. Perhaps, it seems…that your abilities had been underestimated."

Then, again, it's not really surprising, is it?…

"Gardner!" A shout from the blonde-haired ranger brought the bowmaster to his senses. "Are you all right? You look like you passed out for a second…"

"No, I'm fine." Gardner quickly regained his composure. "I was merely thinking to myself." He took a deep breath and fixed his cobalt-blue eyes on Phoenix, his stare uncharacteristically gentle. "I find it amazing how you self-taught yourself in the arts of Final Attack. Everyone who attempted that technique by themselves has managed to commit suicide."

"That's reassuring." Phoenix shrugged and turned his gaze to the sky. "I really have to thank you for those swordsmanship lessons that you made me take while you were drunk…"

Gardner chose to ignore the dry comment. "Were they useful?"

"No." He shrugged listlessly.

"Your technique is good." His gaze became more serious. "But you need to refine it. Even after this large step forward, you still have a long way to go in the total mastery of this technique, which will be essential if you want to defeat Isentryx, considering he is about forty levels higher than you are."

Gardner expected a sharp retort from the ranger, but he was surprised to see Phoenix merely shrug and stare at the ground. "I know. I should meet Athena some time and ask her to train me some more…"

"She has her own matters to attend to at the moment." Gardner said, casting a glance around at the wreckage. "I think it best if I train you myself for a while."

"You?" Phoenix wrinkled his nose. "Sorry," he added, catching the look on the Bowmaster's face. "I forgot that you were a-" He stopped again. "Still, I…"

"Ah, yes." Gardner inclined his head. "You weren't there when I told my story…"

"What story?"

"It's not important at the moment. Ask your brothers or friends to tell you later." The bowmaster fixed a interested look on Phoenix. "Only two bowmasters reside in the world as of this moment, and you are standing next to one of them." He brushed some of his dark amber hair out of his eyes. "It is in your best interest- and the world's- that you train with me for the time being."

Zeraion stared up directly into Gardner's eyes for the first time. There was blue lightning dancing in the pupils of the great man, but underneath that, there was something Phoenix had never seen before.

Sincerity.

Rathias Gardner was really willing to train him; he could not deny the offer. Without hesitating, he gripped the bowmaster's outstretched hand.

The effect was instantaneous; it was as though a bolt of lightning shot through him at that exact moment. There was no pain, but the force of it was terrifying; he thought back to that traumatic moment when he had reached level 70 and was forcibly reminded of that experience. He suddenly realized that Gardner was capable of much greater power than he could have imagined in his wildest thoughts.

Phoenix let go of Gardner's hand and panted in exhaustion for a bit; he felt as though he had just climbed a huge mountain. The bowmaster merely said, "Get used to it, Zeraion. You'll need your strength in the days to come. Meet me at Sleepywood forest at six in the morning. Sharp."

Gardner turned and walked slowly away, leaving the still-dazed ranger in his wake. Zeraion's palm still tingled from the shock; he stuffed the hand in his pocket, fervently wishing the strange sensation would go away.

It was then that he looked up and noticed out of the corner of his eye that the corners of the bowmaster's lips were turned up in a rare smile.

He threw a glance at the smoldering wreckage of the landscape before sheathing his Arund and following after him into the mansion.

-----

"Where the hell is Blade?" one magician furiously snarled, trying to fill a hypodermic syringe. "He hasn't been around here much…We could really use some help administering the antiserum here…" The needle slipped and left a gash in his palm. "Son of a-"

"Easy." Another cleric appeared from the side and healed the wound. "Was that needle infectious?"

"No, it was clean." The wizard sighed and rolled up his sleeves. "Still…I wish we could use some gravity artes or something. It's really tiring to do all of this stuff by hand."

"You can ask Blade to whip up a gravity arte later if you want." the cleric shrugged. "He's a freaking prodigy around here…Did you hear, Grendel even considered making him the heir to the leader of the magicians."

The needle slipped again and left another bloody mark in the wizard's palm. "What?!"

"It's not surprising, you know." The cleric shrugged and began to fill more syringes. "He completed all of his coursework in advance, memorized Grendel's encyclopedia of magic theory, and actually used Heavenlapse without getting his head blown off."

"Holy…" THe wizard cast a glance at the rows of needles lining the cart. "He's not human…"

"Well, we can't all be perfect." The cleric shrugged disconsolately. "Alright, I think we've got them all filled. Have them distributed at once."

"Yeah." The wizard pushed the cart down the aisles of the medical ward, pausing by each of the wounded. Meanwhile, Grendel, passing by, stopped to talk to the cleric.

"Have you seen the Chief Medical Officer anywhere around?" he asked.

"No, sir." The cleric shrugged his shoulders. "He's been out of sight for about…four hours straight. We can only guess what he's doing…"

"Well, his plight is understandable." Grendel shrugged. "I put him in charge of whether or not to use a new healing arte that I devised with a 75 percent success rate."

"Well-" The cleric nearly knocked a nearby potted plant over. "You devised a spell with a three-quarters success rate? That's wonderful! Let's use it at once!"

"He's worried about the other 25 percent." Grendel sighed deeply. "Blade is the kind of person with very strong moral values, and he is under a lot of pressure right now. I would think it wise for you not to annoy him at the moment."

"But he's a head shorter than anyone in here…" The cleric shot a glance at the ceiling. "Except for you." he added, looking at the wizened archmage.

Grendel ignored the remark. "Yes. He is only fifteen, and yet he exhibits knowledge that far surpasses magicians twice his age." He sighed, staring straight ahead. "Rafael would have been proud…"

"Who?"

"Nothing." Grendel said quickly. "You go on with your nurse duty. I'll go check up on him and see what he's up to." The cleric nodded and walked away, as Grendel slowly floated past white-coated magicians passing by. He turned a corner into the nearby hall and glided over to a door.

"Chief Medical Officer?" he called, knocking on the door. There was no answer. "Blade? Ascion? Are you in there?"

Still no answer. Grendel tried the door, but found it locked with a nearly impregnable arte. The archmage frowned slightly and riffled through his mind, using a series of complicated counter-enchantments to dispel the lock. When it clicked, he swung the door open.

Ascion Blade lay face-down, draped over the desk, a quill still clutched in his limp right hand. For a second, Grendel was apprehensive, but immediately relaxed when he saw that Ascion was breathing; he had probably fallen asleep from exhaustion.

"You've overworked yourself." Grendel said shortly; Ascion made no answer. "Spending four hours locked up in this room over one decision…" Taking care not to disturb the sleeping priest, he slowly glided next to him and took a glance at the papers spread out on the desk.

A series of pieces of parchment were spread out in disarray over the table; with some surprise, Grendel recognized them as the papers he had written his theoretical equations on last night. Taking a glance over the papers, he saw that the original '75' he'd written in the corner of the page was crossed out, followed by several pages of heavily-annotated theorems and equations.

Grendel's gaze sharpened as he read the nearly-illegible formularies littering the parchment; finally, his line of sight dropped down to the final page, some of which was covered up by Ascion's limp arm. Carefully, Grendel moved aside the priest's arm and examined the page; Ascion had scribbled numerous equations into the bottom of the paper, followed by a single number crammed in the very corner of the page and circled several times.

"96..." He read the figure out loud, his voice resonating surprisingly loudly in the small room. For a precious second, the leader and renowned archmagus of Ellinia had absolutely nothing to say as he stared at the piece of parchment in his hand.

Slowly, Grendel's gaze shifted to the still-sleeping Ascion, the quill dangling in his grip. For the first time since the destruction of Ellinia, he smiled.

"It seems…" he murmured as he gathered up the pieces of paper that covered the desk, "…that the world shall be saved after all."

-----

"…Aslan?" both Ark and Ryden said uncertainly.

Seles blinked, realizing the depth of his slip. Quickly, he waved it away and said, "It's nothing."

"Who's Aslan?" Ark said slowly. "I've never heard of anyone with that name…"

"I said it was nothing!" Seles roared, losing his temper for the first time in front of his students. Both Ark and Ryden jumped as the Dark Knight shouted furiously at them.

"…My apologies." Seles calmed almost immediately. "It seems that there are still some past memories that I have not let go of yet…"

Ark looked as though he wanted to question Seles further, but he thought better of it and stayed quiet. However, Ryden mustered the courage to ask, "Master…who were you talking about?"

Seles did not look up, but instead murmured, "Aslan was my son…and my first student."

"I thought Marron was-" Ark started to say, but was cut off by a 'don't-push-it' look from Ryden. Instead, Ryden continued. "What…happened to Aslan?"

"He showed great promise when I first trained him." Seles said emotionlessly, his shadowed face still bowed to the ground. "At first, I intended to make him my heir, but…" Another tear dripped from his eye, where it was immediately sucked up by the thirsty ground. "It seems that the ability to use a third release eluded him. He…died trying to use the technique. I could not save him."

"I…see." Ryden said quietly. "So Marron…"

"Marron…was my second student." Seles said in the same placid tone. "The fact remained that I needed a heir. I told Marron of the dangers that would be involved if he chose to be my student, and I told him…of Aslan. He did not falter." Seles finally looked up. "So I accepted him as my heir and taught him class fusion under very controlled circumstances."

"Controlled…circumst-" Ryden paused in shock as an old memory crept into his mind.

"Oh, shoot…Power Guard!" Dariel Marron roared, the jaws of a fire drake closing in on him. He beat it back with his Sparta, knocking out two of its teeth; he quickly hefted his blade and roared, "Spiral Slash Strike!" His attack tore a vicious circular gash through the beast as it collapsed.

"Stop shouting that every time you kill one, Dariel." Ryden murmured. "You're starting to sound annoying."

"Shut up. You're just jealous because I made up a new fighting move and you didn't."

"Spiral Slash Strike…" Ryden paused, his tongue slipping over the words. "No way…It was under our noses the whole time, and…"

"So that's how Marron…" Ark began, not finishing his sentence.

"Yes." Seles folded his arms. "This conversation is now over."

Neither Ark or Ryden dared to reply. The three sat in silence for a tense minute before Seles spoke again. "Be that as it may…since Marron made an attempt on Phoenix's life, that puts matters in a whole new perspective." He exhaled slowly and gazed seriously at Ryden. "It seems that I have no choice but to train you as the secondary heir to the leader of the warriors."

"You would do that?" Ryden said, not believing he had heard correctly. "You're really going to-"

"You are more than competent." Seles nodded slightly. "If need be, I believe you would make an excellent warrior and leader in times of need. However…this is a decision you must make for yourself; I am not going to undermine the dangers that you will have to endure if you choose this path." Ryden fell silent for a moment, considering Seles' words.

"What about me?" Ark cut in, his hand slipping to his axe.

Seles paused, biting his tongue as he considered how to answer the axe-crusader's question. Finally, he said, "Wolfen, believe me, you are one of the more superior students I've had, and you would definitely equal Ryden in a duel, but the reason I am choosing him over you has absolutely nothing to do with that." He took a deep breath before continuing. "You see, I knew Ryden's father at one time."

"You knew my father?" Ryden blinked. "I thought he-"

"Yes, I knew Dracon." Seles acknowledged with a slight nod. "He was an excellent warrior and a honorable man, and I am honored to have known him. Your father was about five or six years older than me, and became a crusader at the tender age of 15. After this, he made such progress that he quickly ascended through his levels faster than any other mortal. In fact, your father was the very first one to receive the gift of the dragons. He was the first Hero."

Ark gazed open-mouthed at Ryden as the latter returned his incredulous stare. "No…way…" he finally managed to stammer. "My father really…"

"Indeed." Seles nodded yet again. "Your father was like an older brother to me. I was immensely saddened when he died some time ago."

"How did my father die?" Ryden asked, clenching his fist. "Was he alive when I was born? How did he-"

Seles cut off Ryden's questions with a wave of his hand. "It is not my place to tell you, Ryden." he said shortly. "The circumstances concerning your father's death may hurt you. I do not wish to tell you any more than you need to know and cause you unneccessary pain."

"He was still my father." Ryden growled. "How would you feel if you knew nothing about your parents?"

That remark touched a hidden nerve; Seles froze for a few seconds, something resembling pain in his eyes, before fixing his glare on the crusader. "Are you really sure you want to know what happened to your father? It may not be what you want to hear."

"He was my father." Ryden repeated stubbornly. Seles chuckled lightly under his breath and wiped a tear from his eye.

"Stubborn as ever…Like father, like son, I suppose." Seles shrugged. "Well, seeing as how I plan to train you as the future leader of the warriors, you have a right to know."

Seles shifted to a more comfortable position on the ground and stared directly at Ryden. "Your father was a legend. He became the first one to master a third release and because of this, was immediately chosen by Sitting Bull as the heir to the leadership of the warriors. It was no contest; Dracon was equally skilled with the blade, axe, and spear, and planned to train as a White Knight and Dragon Knight as soon as possible."

"However…" Seles' gaze sharpened. "If your father had one fault, he was unfortunately stubborn. He refused to believe that the third release was the limit of his power. He argued that there theoretically existed a fourth release; somehow, that there existed the ability to channel the mana released through a fourth-class technique."

He sighed balefully. "Needless to say, the leaders of Victoria were much appalled by this decision and begged Dracon to reject his theory. They had already seen enough lives lost to pursuing the third release and did not wish to see someone with as much power and potential as your father needlessly throwing his life away over something so trivial, when his power was already so great."

A tense silence filled the air. "Dracon relentlessly pressed on for his experiment. This occurred about...seventeen years ago, I believe." Seles fixed his gaze on Ryden even deeper, so that his pupils were staring right into his students. "This was at about the same time that he met your mother."

"My mother?"

"Yes. A priestess by the name of Ceil." He shrugged. "Ceil was extremely devoted to her husband and like the wisemen of Victoria, she, too, begged him not to do it. He considered her words, but in the end, it was useless. He was determined to discover the fourth release."

Seles fell silent for a moment and did not speak until Ryden prompted him to. When he resumed his story, his voice had acquired a leaden tone. "Dracon consulted ancient texts about the theories of mana burn and the releases. He gauged himself, training relentlessly in Ossyria every day to make sure he was strong enough to use this technique; although he was devoted to the technique, he did not underestimate its cost. He trained every day until he deemed himself able to use the technique. This took well over a year and a half. During that time, you were born."

Ryden remained silent as Seles spoke. "When he felt himself ready to test the fourth release, he went to the snowfield. He considered going alone, but your mother decided to go with him in case anything went wrong. Because there was no one around to take care of you, she brought you with her. You were exactly one year old at the time."

There was a tense silence. "Dracon unleashed the technique and exactly as he had calculated, he began to harness the mana." His gaze faltered slightly and he looked once more to the ground. "However…he miscalculated the amount of mana that would be unleashed. It turned out to be too much, even for him. The great amount of mana unleashed produced an arcane reaction; in other words, the formation of a demon."

"Demon?"

"Demons are sentient beings fused to a soul." Seles replied. "We don't know much about them, but we do know that they are created when immense amounts of mana are harnessed through a soul. The soul is fused with the magic and this reaction causes the mana to essentially gain a mind of its own. It becomes a sentience. This sentience is a demon."

He glanced at the ground. "The demon quickly took control of Dracon's body. He struggled against it, but it was no use; the demon unleashed its primal rage and turned on your mother. All demons are born with an urge to kill; it is embedded in their nature. She managed to repel it with her holy abilities, but not for long. In desperation, your mother placed a holy barrier around you with the last of her mana. Then…she died."

Ryden did not speak, and Seles paused. "My sincerest apologies, Ryden. If it bothers you-"

"No, please continue." Ryden said, although his voice was deadpan.

Seles sighed, as if he could feel his student's sorrow, and continued. "The demon still had control of your father's body, and he then turned on you. Ceil's barrier could not sustain itself for long and it soon dissipated. The demon was about to deliver the final strike, but for a split second…when he saw his son, Dracon's will managed to overpower the demon for a precious moment."

"He realized the true folly of his mistake then, but it was too late." Seles' voice became lower. "With his final breath, he repented his sins for performing magic he should never have attempted and for your mother's life. Then…" Seles paused again, staring at Ryden's face. The hanging silence was painful.

"With the last of his energy, he thrust his own blade through his heart and killed himself, to save you."

"My father did…what?" Ryden gasped. "He committed suicide…to save me?"

"Yes." Seles nodded solemnly. "Later, I came upon the scene to try to dissuade your father, but…I was too late to save him. I returned your parents' bodies to Perion and then placed you under the care of a suitable foster family." He glanced up at Ryden, who was staring wordlessly at the ground.

"Ryden…" Seles paused as he searched for words to help his student, but there were simply none. "I'm sorry. I really am."

"I know you are." Ryden said, still not looking up. Ark wanted to say something to his teammate, but the words caught awkwardly in his throat and he let it drop.

There was a tense moment of silence among the three warriors. Finally, Ryden spoke.

"I aceept, Seles. There's no turning back now- I have to accept this responsibility, no matter the cost. I have to do it for my father."

He held out his hand, and Seles took it. "So be it, Ryden. Your father would have been proud."

Ryden lay back on the ground, staring up at the sky. He murmured something that began with the words "My father…" but it quickly faded into unintelligible muttering. Ark glanced uncertainly at him; Seles merely shook his head. "Leave him well alone, Wolfen. These are wounds that no salve can heal."

"I understand." Ark said, grinding a pebble underneath his palm. Seles sighed deeply. "Be that as it may, even though I have complete confidence in Ryden's abilities…there is no denying that you are an excellent fighter as well. If you like…I could train you as the tertiary heir."

"Really?" Ark's mood brightened somewhat. "You would really do that?"

"Of course I would." Seles managed a smile. "Your mother was also an excellent warrior, although she never quite had Dracon's potential." He sighed. "It was a pity she left you at such a young age."

"I accept." Ark said without hesitation, grabbing Seles' hand.

"Very good." Seles smiled. "Now…" He cast a glance at Ryden. "Could you please leave us alone? There is something I need to talk to Ryden about in private."

Ark sighed, then sheathed his axe and left the valley. Seles watched him leave, then turned to Ryden. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine." Ryden sat up, kneading the fine dirt of the ground in his fingers. "It's just…My father, he…"

"I understand." Seles laid a hand on Ryden's shoulder. "You have every right to feel the emotions that you are experiencing right now. However, before I leave you alone, there is something I have for you. You are in need of a weapon, correct?"

"Oh, right." Ryden said, remembering the previous encounter with Marron. "Yeah…"

"I have something for you." In answer, the Dark Knight drew a sword sheath from the depths of his cuirass. It was adorned with intricate jewels and designs and glittered a multitude of colors in the sunlight. "I had been waiting to give you this blade for a long time. It is time it was returned to your hands."

Ryden took the sheath and drew out the blade from within. Despite its richly-decorated sheath, the sword within had a simple brass hilt and a silver blade. Slightly dismayed, Ryden turned the sword over and in the sunlight, he saw a series of runes engraved onto the blade. The runes were shallowly engraved and would have been invisible if not for the flash of the reflecting sunlight.

He ran his fingers along the runes; on closer inspection, he could see that they were written in the human tongue, although they were carved so intricately that they easily passed for arcane. Slowly, he read the inscription on the blade.

"Alastor…?"

In answer, the sword seemed to flare up; Ryden resisted the urge to scream as an invisible force seemed to take ahold of his hands, pinning them to the blade. He felt the sword lift itself up in his hands as it glowed an eerie flame-red; for a brief moment, he could see the sword changing…the blade quickly grew larger and straighter; as Ryden watched in awe, the sword became a massive steel behemoth. The hilt grew into the shape of a dragon's maw, and the cross guard changed into a pair of great dragon wings. As Ryden watched, the blade began to crackle with cobalt-blue lightning, sending shivers of power through his arms.

Come to me, Ryden…my son…

Then it was all over, and Ryden found himself lying on the ground with the simple katana in his hand.

"What the…" Ryden staggered to his feet. "That was-"

"It seems that Alastor likes you." Seles said casually, as though he and Ryden were having a discussion about a tame pet. "I should let you know that this was the very same katana your father used to carry."

"You mean…this was the same weapon that my father killed himself with?" Ryden said slowly.

"Well, I wouldn't say that, exactly…" Seles sighed. "You should also know that Alastor was the name of the demon that took over your father's body. When Dracon stabbed himself, this produced another arcane reaction. I don't know exactly what happened, but my best guess is that your father's soul and Alastor merged to some degree. Your father's blood and spirit still resides inside that sword, but Alastor continues to lurk in the shadows of the blade."

"I…" Ryden glanced at the katana in his hand. "So this is all that remains of my father?"

"To some point, yes." Seles glanced at the sword. "If you wish to become the heir to the warriors, you must learn to control the power of this blade. Alastor is a fearsome demon and will likely be vengeful, but demons carry great mana potential. If you can learn to control Alastor, I doubt there will be any foe that can stand in your path."

"What can I do to…control him?" Ryden asked.

"You do not need to worry yourself. There are two identities sealed in this blade; your father and the demon. If need be, the sword will respond to your emotions and trigger the power of Dracon, thus transforming it into its greatsword counterpart. For simplicity's sake, I will refer to this ability as Dragon Trigger. However, if your emotional output is too great, then Alastor's dark influence will appear and activate another ability known as Devil Trigger; but as long as the spirit of your father resides in the sword, you need not fear greatly for your safety." He cracked his knuckles. "Under my guidance, you will learn to call upon Dragon Trigger and master its abilities, but also to control the Devil Trigger and use it…if need be."

"I…see."

"You should acquaint yourself with the blade tonight and get a feel for it, so to speak. Tomorrow, meet me at precisely six in the morning, in Sleepywood forest, and I shall train you in the finer arts of the warrior."

"All right." Ryden sheathed the sword and both warriors turned away from each other to leave. Before either had taken more than a few steps, Seles paused. "Oh, and Ryden…one more thing. I almost forgot."

"Yes?" Ryden hurried over to the Dark Knight's side. In answer, he drew a small pendant from his cuirass.

"This…was your mother's." he said in a gentle tone, pressing the locket into his student's hand. Ryden opened it to see a picture of a man, with silver hair and blue eyes, a great sword with a hilt shaped like a dragon's maw over his shoulder. At his side was a woman dressed in magician's clothing and holding a blanketed child in her arms.

"Is this…me?" Ryden gingerly asked.

"Yes." Seles nodded. "I think you should keep it. It belongs to you now."

"Thank you." Ryden stood there, looking at the necklace and solemnly examining the picture. Seles watched him for a minute before turning to leave, his footsteps echoing across the bare earth.

Ryden turned to watch the Dark Knight leave, then suddenly turned around and called, "Wait!"

Seles paused. "Yes, Ryden?"

"I just…" He stopped for a minute, the words sticking in his throat. "Thanks…for everything you've done. For saving me and training me. You're like a second father to me."

Keiga Seles wanted to smile and thank the young swordsman; he really did. And yet, the inner guilt inside him weighed upon his heart like a gigantic weight.

Ultimately, Seles realized that the fault was his. Deep inside, he knew it was his fault that Aslan was gone from the earth, his fault that he couldn't have arrived in time to save Dracon, his fault that Marron had deserted him and turned against the destiny he'd sought to build for him, and Ryden had no way of knowing this. He would not have made a good father.

The Dark Knight stared down at his useless left arm, hanging at his side, supported only through a frail enchantment.

Everything he touched ended up broken…

-----

The mood in the council room in Sleepywood was somewhat dismal, as usual; but then again, they had no reason not to be since the destruction wreaked by Phoenix/Isentryx, depending on how one looked at it. Athena and Sitting Bull sat opposite each other, although not in the same foul mood that they had been in the last time they were in this room. Grendel and Dark Lord stood off to the side.

The atmosphere seemed very dry and it was some time before someone, Grendel, spoke. "Have you informed Gardner and Seles of this meeting yet?"

"I don't wish to trouble them." Athena said, her misty eyes not betraying any emotion. "They most likely have their own matters to deal with at the moment."

"That being the case, this meeting could impact the future of Victoria Island and the rest of the world," Grendel continued in a matter-of-fact tone, "so I believe their presence would be beneficial."

"There's no need." Sitting Bull waved the matter away. "I sent a message to both of them some time ago. They should be arriving some time soon."

Sure enough, as if on cue, Rathias Gardner appeared through the door, his long amber hair drifting in the wind. He sheathed his Shinebow and bowed quickly to the four leaders before taking a seat.

"Good evening, Rathias." Athena said, pursing her hands together.

"The same to you." He nodded. "My apologies for being late. I was spending some time with Zeraion Phoenix." He ran his fingers along the table thoughtfully. "He shows great promise in his training. His mana potential and control is excellent and his bow mastery is at a high level. He has even taken the time to self-teach himself fusion artes."

There was a dark air around the table; Gardner merely returned the dismal stares with a point-blank glare from his own eyes. "Yes, I know."

"His resemblance to Isentryx is surprising." Dark Lord gave a noncommital shrug.

"Indeed. I confronted Isentryx some time ago in the Sanctuary." Gardner lay back in his chair. "I defeated him without too much trouble. Even though he has added necromancy to his repertoire, he still suffers from overconfidence."

"Then why the hell didn't you kill him?" Sitting Bull snapped, pounding the table.

Gardner shot the leader of the warriors a dark stare before responding, "You don't know what it's like to have a student, do you?"

"That aside," Athena cut in, "I fear that a direct attack by Isentryx is soon to be expected. Our cities and population are in disarray. We can't possibly stand a chance if we remain unorganized."

"The remnants of the cities as they are now are not safe." Dark Lord said in his emotionless, placid tone. "We must evacuate the citizens as soon as possible to a safe location."

"Define 'safe location'." Grendel folded his arms.

"I would suggest Henesys." Gardner replied. "It's the only major town that hasn't been totally destroyed, not to mention that Gault would never think of destroying the place…as demented as he is." he added, with a slight frown.

"Our troops are unprepared." Sitting Bull said flatly. "We have lost a substantial number of fighters in the previous destruction. Even if we manage to evacuate the cities and scrape together an army, it'll still be hell to go through what Isentryx can throw at us."

"Indeed." Gardner nodded. "He has the ancient demonic creatures of the Sanctuary under his control. Not to mention that with soul transmutation…" He sighed. "This could easily spell doom for us."

"Which is why you two-" Athena cast a glance at Grendel and Dark Lord. "-must find a suitable heir immediately in case you are…incapacitated."

Grendel shrugged. "I have it all planned out, Athena. You need not fear."

Athena then turned to Dark Lord. "And you?"

The mysterious leader of the thieves merely shrugged. "I don't need an heir at the moment."

"Don't be foolish." she retorted. "You may be the leader of the thieves, but you are not immortal."

"Perhaps." He stretched out his hands and cracked his knuckles. "Be that as it may, even if I were to adopt a heir- not that I am- the individual would have to be exceedingly skilled in alchemy, and most of the idiots out there are either brainlessly throwing stars or brandishing daggers…" He let out a sigh. "There is no respect for the ancient arts of the rogue."

"What about the Stalrigarde family?" Athena asked. "They were always masters of alchemy. You could select one of them to be your heir."

"Unlikely. The Stalrigarde family were also notorious for their incestuous affairs in order to keep their bloodline pure." Dark Lord sniffed the air disdainfully. "The last pure-blooded member of the family, Valter Stalrigarde, was the first to marry outside of his family. He died soon after traveling to Zakum Altar, so I doubt he or his children would be of any help."

"Valter Stalrigarde had two children." Athena said, not faltering. "An older daughter, Rinalde, and a younger son, Joseph. Why not-"

"Rinalde is the heiress to her family's fortune." Dark Lord replied calmly, now twirling a sharp kunai knife around his finger at high velocity. "She spends more time looking for a prospective husband than bothering with alchemic artes." He flung the knife into the air and caught it on the tip of his finger. "And Joseph detested his father. I doubt he would be keen to follow in his footsteps."

"Perhaps…" Gardner cut in. "However, I can't deny that young Stalrigarde is indeed an expert in his field, whether he wants to be or not. Have you seen what the lad can do with his fingers?" He gave a catlike whistle. "You should see him perform surgery some time…"

Dark Lord raised an eyebrow. "What are you insinuating?"

"Nothing. I'm just saying that you shouldn't let good talent go to waste." Gardner lay back in his chair once more.

The thief leader looked as though he was about to spit back a venomous reply, but was interrupted by the arrival of a sullen-faced, auburn-haired Dark Knight. "Good evening. My apologies for being late." Seles bowed slightly and took a seat next to Gardner. "I was meditating in the valley and lost track of time."

Gardner caught the look on his friend's face. "Keiga, was this about Aslan?"

"No!" Seles snapped. "Well…perhaps." He exhaled deeply. "If you must know, I told Ryden about Alastor. It evoked some painful memories."

"I understand." Gardner said gently. "Don't think you are the only one here who knows the pain of losing a son."

Seles only looked gloomier than ever. Keen to change the topic, Gardner resumed the topic. "So, what are we going to do in regards to Isentryx?"

"At the very least, we can establish Henesys as a safe haven." Athena took a quill and a scrap of parchment and began to scribble on it. "Also, we must gather together a force of rapid-reaction troops in case of an attack." She slid the piece of paper over to Gardner. He glanced down at it; it was a map of Victoria Island, with the lands around Henesys circled in ink.

"Elaesia…" Gardner read the word off the paper. "You're going to start your own country?"

"Only for the moment." Athena replied sharply. "The formation of Elaesia is only a measure in resisting Isentryx. After he is defeated, the towns will be rebuilt. Right now, our main concern is creating the base of our operations."

"The name is certainly apt." Seles sighed. "Elaesia was the name of this land when it was one with Ossyria. Now…the fragments of our classes must band together to resist this evil."

"Well, I don't think there's much else to discuss." Athena said briskly, folding up the paper. "Gardner, Seles, you two may leave. We will set to work at once creating a renegade band of fighters."

The Bowmaster and Dark Knight nodded, then left the room.

-----

The moon was high over the grounds of Henesys. Green slimes and mushrooms bounced along the beaten paths, freely continuing on with their existence. Snow still shimmered over the landscape, and it lent an almost mystical air to the atmosphere.

Traphes Igzarion darkly stared out at the snow on the grounds of The Resistance. He had never liked the snow as a youth. To him, the snow represented the cold, unfeeling tragedy that he had endured as a child.

He ran a hand through his shoulder-length hair, the raven color of his locks blending in with the darkness that hung about his room. He had always been plagued by constant depression; probably stemmed from family troubles as a child, he thought. Actually, family troubles didn't even begin to describe it; anyone could have written a whole book on the events and tragedies of the raven-haired ranger.

In a way, it was ironic. He had never wanted to become a ranger in the first place; if he could just have his way, then all would be well and he could easily be a carefree chief bandit, living off the great world and its pleasures. Instead, here he was, just a moody, drunk, young man who had never really been understood throughout his life.

Slowly, he shook his head. No, he wasn't completely misunderstood. It hadn't always been like this. He had had a father, a mother, two sisters, just like a normal, totally non-dysfunctional family. At times like this, he truly wanted to explode. He wanted to cry out to the skies why, exactly, of all the people in the world, should he have to bear the horrors and responsibility of such a life. How could it all have ended up like this for him?

He took his Black Metus from his quiver and stroked it with a mixture of love and hate. On one hand, this bow had been everything to him; he'd found it lying behind a stray stone at Zakum Altar years ago, it seemed, even though it had only been two. Without the power of this great, demonic weapon, he was nothing.

But on the other hand, the Metus represented and embodied everything he hated. In actuality, he despised the arts of the bowman. He had never been interested in them and probably never would have; he was so much more fascinated in the shadow artes of the thieves and rogues. He wanted to do alchemy and summon real-life shadow doppelgangers, not just…straw puppets! He rumpled his hair in frustration.

Slowly, he trudged downstairs, listlessly sliding himself into a chair. Rysdale Tales and Natalia Arundale were also sitting silently at the table, not uttering a word.

He remembered Arundale's words. Iggy, listen to me. None of this is your fault. No one would choose such a fate as yours. Don't do this to yourself.

He sucked in his breath. Natalia was really the only one who had cared for him; ever since the infamous 'incident', she had been the only one who had shown him pity and kindness. In the end, that was because she was the only one to have seen what had really happened.

No one, not even his friends, honestly trusted him. He remembered his encounter with Zeraion Phoenix some years ago. The first time he had seen him, he had really despised him. As far as he was concerned, Zeraion was weak- a simple nobody who didn't deserve to be there in the first place. Then again, he had been viciously taunted and humbled by Phoenix and those brats and it was all he could do to stop from killing them all right then and there.

But it wasn't really surprising. Phoenix didn't understand him and he never would. He would never understand the sorrows that flowed through his veins. To think of it, Zeraion Phoenix probably didn't know the meaning of sorrow. He had had a nice life, a nice, caring mother and father, and after that, two brothers who he could look up to and share companionship with.

He, Iggy, the demon child, had no one, save possibly for the exception of Arundale, who was like a sister to him. He loved her- not in the kind of male/female lust sense, but rather as an affectionate brother-sister bond, and in the end, he knew he would do anything to protect her, even if it meant taking his own life.

Then again, he couldn't possibly blame Phoenix. That night when Zeraion had arrived with the bloodied body of Grace in his arms, it was the first time he had seen tears cascade down his cheeks. And suddenly, he realized, that he didn't have a right to hate Phoenix. He had lost someone he truly loved; Iggy, though the loveless orphan he was, never had had a close relationship with his family in the first place. Phoenix never really harbored a grudge against him; not really. Phoenix could like someone and be friendly to them, and he couldn't.

Yes, that was the difference between him and the others; despite the fact that he had lost his entire family that fateful night, he had never really loved them as he should have, until it was too late. All of them; Phoenix, Rysdale, Natalia, and Delinia, they had suffered the loss of their family members as well, but the key difference between them and him was that they had lost ones that they had truly loved.

I do love them, he nudged himself stubbornly, but it was no use. Of course he had cried when they had died, but in the end, the gaping hollow that should have been present in him simply wasn't there. He could lie to others about his true nature as much as he wanted, but that simply wouldn't work here. He was far too intelligent to fool himself.

What made it even worse was that they were his friends; well, excepting Phoenix, at least, since he hadn't known the blonde-haired ranger for more than a couple of years. But the rest of them, Tales, Arundale, and Arklanser, he had every right to hate himself for that. They were his true friends, they who stood behind him when the entire town of Henesys had more or less turned on him. They had to suffer for him, and he had more or less repaid them with callous indifference.

I won't be like that, he promised himself, but once more it was no use. His own childhood trauma had more or less reduced him to what he essentially was; a shell in a human body. He had shown little or no emotion at all and it wasn't too far to say that he had lost his soul.

This was what he had failed to realize until now, and he regretted it sorely; all he wanted to do, all they wanted him to do, even Phoenix, was to just be a friend, be the cool and laid-back Iggy that they missed. But now, it was too late.

He glanced up. The amber-haired sniper paused to eye him. "Everything all right, Iggy?" he asked with a teasing face.

"Shut up." he sighed, laying his head back upon the table. He had never really liked Tales; out of all of them, he would have been rather glad to rid himself of the sarcastic and dry crossbowman. Good old Rysdale, always ready with a spur-of-the-moment insult or off-color remark to pep them all up. Unlike himself, Tales actually had had someone to take care of him and love him. Even after losing his parents, he could still be fairly cheerful and optimistic, and that was why Igzarion had on more than one occasion had the urge to make him jump off a tall building without a bungee cord.

But then, after Laura, his sister, had died…it was the first time that he, or anyone else for that matter, had actually seen Rysdale look…well, depressed. He never thought that he would ever apply this term to the sniper; it seemed as though the smile behind those glasses, whether dry or genuine, would never fade. He had lost the one person he had cared for, and although he eventually went back to his usual dry cheerfulness, there was an insincerity behind those lenses and that smile for the first time in years.

He knew that the sniper would rather have died than admitted it, but he needed friendship; and unfortunately, he couldn't offer his friend solace, even though Tales had invariably comforted him some years ago. The burden of that had ultimately fallen on Phoenix.

That was one of the things he suddenly realized about Zeraion Phoenix; he could always see the good in people, no matter how dry or sarcastic they might seem, and open up to them. Phoenix had seen in Tales what Igzarion himself had failed to see, even after all these years with the sniper. That was what Phoenix had and that he could never have.

Trust.

Phoenix hadn't been the weakling all this time, it had been him, Iggy, who had been unable to open up and trust another…

He sorely wanted to look at Tales and tell him sincerely that he was sorry for him, but the words stuck in his throat. Both Tales and Arundale looked at him; he turned away from them, ashamed at himself and yet unable to tell them what he truly felt.

Frowning, Igzarion put a hand to his temples; his head suddenly felt hot, as though there was a pressure building up inside. Slightly annoyed, he felt an irritating tickling sensation in his eyes and he reached up to rub them.

How strange…he thought, as his fingers came away slightly wet.

I'm crying…

-----

The forest of Sleepywood was dark and forbidding- not any place for a picnic. Monsters flitted about the shadows of the trees, ready to leap out at any unwary traveler who dared to cross their paths. The gigantic trees grew even more densely than the great forest of Ellinia, blocking all but the smallest rays of light from the sky overhead.

"Six o' clock, he said." A raven-haired crusader made his way angrily through the forest. "It doesn't help that he didn't say exactly where in Sleepywood…This forest is huge." A Curse Eye leapt out at him from behind a nearby bush. Faster than the eye could see, he drew a silver katana from the sheath on his back, and neatly cleaved it in half. He wiped the blade on a large leaf before sheathing it and walking on.

Meanwhile, a few hundred feet away, a blonde-haired ranger was also struggling through the forest. "Gardner, couldn't you at least have given me a freaking map?!" He brushed aside an overhanging clump of leaves and branches only to see a Zombie Lupin angrily hurl itself at him, screeching. Swiftly, he raised his arm and snapped his fingers. "Inferno!" The Lupin exploded in midair, scattering ashes everywhere. The ranger shook his head slightly before walking onwards.

The ranger and crusader were walking directly towards each other without paying attention to their paths; in classic misfortune sequence, they crashed into each other.

"Ow! Why, you-" The crusader drew his sword but recognized the face. "Phoenix? What the hell are you doing here?"

"Exactly what I wanted to ask you." Zeraion replied, cocking a questioning glance towards the swordsman.

"Oh, just a little…training." Ryden shrugged. "You?"

"Same here." Zeraion unsheathed his bow. "It is six o'clock, right?"

"Yes…Why do you ask?"

"No reason."

"Whatever." Zeraion and Ryden turned away from each other.

However, there was a shout of "There you are!" from the side. Both ranger and crusader turned to see the tall figure of Keiga Seles walking towards them.

"I've been searching for you for ages…" Seles brushed some of his hair out of his face. "You can't just go running around Sleepywood forest, you know. It's not a very friendly place."

Ryden scowled, but was saved the trouble of responding by the arrival of Rathias Gardner on the scene. "Ah, Phoenix, there you are. I would have thought you would have given me a map." Phoenix blanched.

"Rathias, what are you doing here?" Seles asked.

"Exactly what I wanted to ask you, Keiga." Gardner shrugged.

Both Ryden and Zeraion rolled their eyes. "Can you please get on with it?"

"Am I to assume that you're here to begin Ryden's training as the secondary heir to the leader of the warriors?" Gardner asked.

"Yes, and the same to you with Phoenix?"

"Exactly." The bowmaster glanced around him. "This isn't going to work. We need more room around to maneuver."

"I'll take care of it." Seles drew his Fairfrozen and plunged it into the ground. "Dragon Roar!"

Zeraion and Ryden leapt out of the way as lavender waves of energy burst from the ground, leveling several trees and clearing a wide space about a thousand feet in diameter. "That's much better." he sighed, twirling the gigantic pike of ice. "Ryden, do you remember what I told you about Dragon Trigger?"

"Yes…"

Seles looked at Gardner. "Rathias, did you mention to Phoenix his draconic abilities?"

"Ah, yes. I was about to." Gardner then looked at Phoenix. "The Abyssal Arund is a spiritual weapon. Spiritual weapons are rarities in this world; they are spirits and/or demons that have been sealed by an enchantment into a weapon. Spiritual weapons, as I'm sure you know by now, are much more powerful than their material counterparts, but they require a lot of mana potential to unlock their full potential. Our job as your instructors is to teach you how to gain the full potential of your weapons."

"The best way to do this would be to simulate a real combat situation." Seles motioned to Ryden. "You and Zeraion will fight right here and now. You will activate Dragon Trigger and Zeraion will summon the power of Athos. I don't want you bothering with Alastor at the moment. Is that clear?"

"Yes." Ryden nodded, before drawing his blade and pointing it at Phoenix. "Get ready, Zer…"

"This is only your first time using Dragon Trigger, Ryden." Seles chided. "Don't get overconfident…"

"Whatever." Ryden growled, before bringing his sword up in an attack stance. "I won't hold back on you this time."

"I won't either." Zeraion replied, before drawing and stringing his bow.

"Let's go! Power Strike!" Ryden roared, charging at Zeraion, his katana raised.

"Power Knock-Back!" Zeraion countered, bringing the limbs of his bow up to guard. The material of the bow held up well against the impact of the sword. Undaunted, Ryden charged again, delivering a flurry of blows to the bowman. He noticed that even though the blade was much stronger than his previous weapon, it felt extremely light, about half as heavy as his previous sword. Nevertheless, Zeraion managed to parry all the blows as Ryden watched with some amusement.

"You've been working out a lot since our first training session, haven't you?" Ryden nodded, clearly impressed against his will.

"I try." Zeraion threw his head back and closed his eyes before firing a quartet of arrows at Ryden. Without pausing, Ryden saw the arrows move towards him; it was as though everything was in slow motion. Swiftly, he brought his katana up to defend, neatly slicing through the arrows as they neared him. Zeraion's eyes opened in surprise for a brief moment before he raised a palm and roared, "Inferno!"

Ryden had a moment's warning before the ground underneath him exploded forcefully; he swiftly raised his katana and roared, "Power Guard!" Several large chunks of rock and flame soared at him only to be reflected by his guard. He ran his hand along the length of the silver blade, glinting in the rising sun. "Combo Attack!" Blue globes of light began to circle around Ryden, illuminating his blade; he then dashed forward, ready to attack. "Panic!"

The force of the attack sent Zeraion skidding along the ground. He looked up in time to see Ryden charging at him again and swiftly rolled out of the way, causing Ryden to cleave a tree in half instead. Phoenix raised his bow and roared "Inferno!"

Bolts of flame burst from his palms and flung themselves at Ryden only to be stopped by the crusader's guard; however, without pausing, he flicked the bowstring again and roared, "Final Attack!"

The force of the blast leveled several trees and sent Ryden flying into the air. He landed on his feet squarely to see another bolt of flame hurtling towards him at high velocity. Shoot! He sprung to his feet, expecting to get hit by the fire soon.

Only to safely sprint through the air as the firebolt exploded behind him. What the… Ryden blinked as he stared at the path his feet had trailed along the grass; it was as though he had jumped fifty feet in a split second. How did I…

He could feel the sword thrumming in his hands. Use my power, Ryden…

Then he understood; gripping the blade firmly in both hands, he dashed at Zeraion, swiftly dodging arrows and changing directions as he went. As he was about to attack, he leapt high into the air, and as Zeraion watched dumbfoundedly, grabbed ahold of a tree and launched himself off in a gravity-defying display. With a primal shout, Ryden threw himself at the bowman, his blade ready to deal some serious damage.

The ranger swiftly brought his bow up to defend against the incoming assault, but Ryden wasn't done yet; calling upon more energy from his sword, he leaped into the air and seemed to vanish.

"What the-" Zeraion frantically craned around for the crusader, but to no avail.

Then Ryden appeared from thin air behind Zeraion, as though he had teleported. He barely had time to register the swordsman's presence before Ryden dealt a vicious slash to his back, leaving a huge, bloody gash the length of his spine.

Zeraion staggered, blood dripping from the great wound, and turned to stare at Ryden with a strange look, his eyes glazed over. For a moment, Ryden thought he might have done some serious damage, but he suddenly saw the spectral bow glow with a faint golden aura.

Suddenly, great wings erupted from Zeraion's back as he let out a shout of pain. As Ryden watched in awe, the grievous wound on his back began to heal itself, the flesh knitting itself back together. Phoenix continued to writhe in pain, his great spectral wings folding around his body, his hair becoming longer, his armor changing…even his physique was changing. He looked taller, like the man he was going to become rather than the boy he was.

Ryden saw all of this with a gasp as he realized who he was staring at.

This was the same Zeraion Phoenix that had destroyed Perion.

Phoenix- Ryden wasn't even sure what to call the entity in front of him- raised his hand, and in a defiant and commanding tone, roared, "Thunder Spear!" A shaft of concentrated white lightning formed at his palm, nearly blinding Ryden with its brightness. Zeraion charged forward, the spear raised.

Ryden swung his sword upwards to guard against the incoming assault. There was a massive flash and a shower of sparks as the weapons impacted against each other. Undaunted, Zeraion twirled the arcane weapon in his arms before dealing an uppercut slash which Ryden could barely dodge. He then swung the spear about for the third time and slammed Ryden in the side with it. Pain shot through the crusader's body as he crumpled to the ground. Zeraion expertly holstered the weapon, pointing it at the warrior. Ryden stared upwards in disbelief. No way…It's like I'm fighting a Dragon Knight…no, a Dark Knight, even…How could he gain so much mastery from his transformation?

Phoenix raised his spear and thrust it into the ground, commanding, "Astatos!" A burst of blue-white lightning exploded from the ground, sending Ryden flying into the air. He hit a tree with a painful thud and slid down it, leaving a bloody mark on the bark. Ryden swore as he held his blade up. I need to use Dragon Trigger now, or else I'm done for…He fingered the runes on his sword.

"Dracon…!" Ryden called out his father's name as he held up his sword.

The runes on Dracon's blade began to glow with an eerie white light. Once more, Ryden felt power flowing into the weapon as it began to crackle with blue electricity. Phoenix watched as he saw Ryden transform, the ancient power suffusing him. The sword began to change, its blade growing broader and longer; the hilt and the cross guard changed into dragon replicas as well. Ryden's hair began to change into a shade of iridescent silver, his eyes turning an electrifying cobalt-blue, spectral dragon wings growing from his back as well.

Ryden…my son…

Ryden stared straight ahead, the true form of his father's sword clutched in his hands.

He was his father.

Fired by that knowledge and a desire to test his new abilities, he charged forward at Phoenix, raising the great sword and bringing it down. There was a sound like an explosion as the two weapons met. Phoenix delivered a volley of spear strikes only to have them all blocked easily. Ryden suddenly realized that his transformation now granted him equal footing with Phoenix.

Phoenix charged forward with the huge spear, lightning gathering at its tip, and stabbed forward. Ryden's sharp eyes gauged the attack; at the instant that the attack was about to make contact, Ryden raised his great sword and roared, "Just Release!"

The force of Ryden's counter sent Phoenix flying backwards, crashing through several trees before gliding back to face Ryden. Phoenix flicked his wrist, causing the spear to disappear for the moment, then raised his bow. "Dragon Pulse!"

Bolts of lightning flashed around the ranger as Phoenix made his attack; Ryden raised his sword up to guard, but the attack still had enough force to send him crashing through several feet of forest. Yet, as Phoenix released the attack, he felt exhaustion surge through his veins and he staggered to the ground.

Dragon child, listen to me. You don't have enough mana in your body to sustain fourth-class abilities. You can only do so through me. If you want to win this battle, you must allow me to take full control.

"You promise you won't screw this up?" Phoenix growled out of the corner of his mouth.

There was a shadow of dry amusement in the spirit's tone. Yes, Zeraion. I promise.

"Well, you finally not calling me 'dragon child' is a first." Phoenix snarled.

Ryden charged forward in time to see Zeraion writhing on the ground, his wings growing larger and the aura surrounding him becoming brighter. He must be going deeper into his transformation. Running a hand across his sword, he commanded once more, "Dracon!"

He felt more power flow into him as his father's spirit sufused him; yet, as he called out his father's name, he realized he was losing control of his body. The more power he called upon, the less ability he had to move on his own. So this is what Seles meant when he said I had to control the spirit within this sword.

Swiftly, Ryden unfolded his wings and raised his sword, blue energy flowing about the blade. "Stinger!" He thrust forward at supersonic speed, moving so fast that the wind he generated easily blew down trees, his blade poised for an extremely vicious stab attack.

Time seemed to slow in those last few seconds as Zeraion raised his hand to his bow, gauging Ryden's movement. As Ryden was about to near him, he flicked the string and roared, "Hurricane!"

The two attacks collided furiously with each other as Ryden furiously struggled against the coming onslaught of wind blades, his armor and skin slowly cracking and ripping against the tempest. At the same time, Zeraion struggled to maintain the wind energy as the massive amount of mana radiating from Ryden's sword seared his body. Their gazes locked in a furious stare as each struggled to overpower the other.

With a thunderous explosion, neither combatant could sustain the magic any longer, and the resulting impact created a blinding flash of destructive light. Both Zeraion and Ryden struggled against the outburst of magical energy, but it was of little use.

Slowly, both fighters drifted to the ground, unconscious, as Gardner and Seles rushed up to them. The destruction was immense; a large section of forest about half a mile in diameter had been cleared away by the ensuing battle.

"Do you think that was a bit too much?" Seles asked.

Gardner checked Zeraion and Ryden for a pulse. "They're still alive. That's all that matters." He sighed. "I honestly didn't expect them to draw upon such a large percentage of their spiritual energy, however." He sucked in his breath. "It seems that competition brings out the best in these two."

"For his father's sake…" Seles sighed. "I hope Ryden survives."

"Yes." Gardner stood up solemnly. "I wish the same for Phoenix as well." He raised a hand and commanded, "Fire Phoenix!" The great feral bird slowly drifted to the ground as Gardner and Seles climbed on it, carrying Zeraion and Ryden. Slowly, the great bird soared into the air towards Henesys.

-----

Athena Pierce raked a hand across her sweaty forehead. For several hours straight, she had done nothing except organize people and oversee matters; for the first time, she was beginning to get a sense of what true leadership really meant; the other three wisemen encouraged her, but did little to help her. She suspected it was because of her relationship with Gault that they treated her like this, but in the end, she couldn't really blame them. Most of the responsibility of stopping Gault, after all, did fall on her shoulders.

And Phoenix's as well, she chided herself. She sighed and forced herself to think straight; Gault probably kept tabs on their activities and might know of their attempts to mobilize an army even now. Thanks to a specialized healing arte devised by Chief Officer Blade of the Ellinia Medical Corps, a large percentage of the seriously wounded had been restored, with almost miraculous effects. Once Athena and the other three leaders had called a council meeting and explained the situation, they quickly assembled themselves for battle. It was true that many of them still harbored a grudge against Phoenix; she couldn't blame them. But for now, the true threat lay looming on the horizon.

"How do you expect to defend our territory without any suitable leaders?" someone asked disdainfully. Athena turned to see Sitting Bull with his arms folded across his large sword.

"If you so desire, I will lead them." Athena said in a curt tone.

"It would be foolish for any one of us to do direct battle."

"Does it look like we have a choice?" she replied, unsheathing her Shinebow and stringing it. Sitting Bull merely looked contemptuous, but responded, "If that is what you so desire, then I will accompany you. Leave Grendel and the Dark Lord here for now."

"You speak as though Isentryx is already within sight." she murmured, tossing her copper-colored tressed behind her back.

"Perhaps he is." The leader of the warriors motioned for Athena to come outside. Her eyes met an unbelievable sight.

Gault Isentryx was standing in front of her, flanked by what seemed like hundreds of Tauros and mysterious shadowy figures, and several dozen Crimson Balrogs. He was dressed in gold-lined black armor and wore a helm upon his head that bore resemblance to a dragon's head, his silver-colored Shinebow clutched in his fist. As Athena looked upon him, she realized that he no longer bore any resemblance to the student she once trained.

"My goddess…" Athena walked up to him. "Gault, what have they done to you?" Unbelievably, there was still a tone of affection in her voice.

"This isn't the time for personal questions, Athena." Gault said, his demonic voice scraping against her ears. "I've merely come to ask kindly that you surrender the territory of Elaesia to me. Accept and you and your people shall go free. Deny and you shall be slaughtered."

"Does it really matter, Gault?" Athena said, tears in her eyes. "You're not the student that I once knew. Gardner always said that he knew there was still good in you. What do you hope to accomplish by killing thousands of innocents?"

It looked like Gault was swallowing a piece of hot charcoal as he heard the name. "I despise Rathias Gardner, my former instructor. Out of all people on this earth, I consider him the only one who can defeat me…but it is no matter. My powers shall serve me well." His soulless gaze flickered to Athena. "Now, answer my question. Will you surrender or not?"

Athena took a deep breath. Behind her, she heard Sitting Bull call out for the troops, and about a thousand troops lined up behind her, their weapons drawn.

She blinked a tear away. "No, Gault, I won't. I will fight you to the end until you realize the mistake of what you've done. I always believed that you would be our world's next hope when Gardner trained you, but…" She sighed. "Don't prove me wrong again."

Gault's eyes flashed for a second. "So be it. You have spoken your own doom." He turned and walked slowly back to the fore of his troops, muttering unintelligible words to his forces as he walked. Slowly, the army of Tauros, shadows, and Balrogs stepped back a few hundred feet, preparing to charge.

Athena wiped away another tear from her eye before she heard Sitting Bull roar, "Charge!"

Both sides of the conflict paused for a second before raising their weapons and letting out a bloody roar as they hurled themselves at each other.

-----

Slowly, footsteps walked through the ashes of Perion.

Dariel Marron silently strode through the wreckage of his home, his eyes bleakly searching the landscape. It seemed as though he were looking for something, but could not find it. Finally, he turned a corner and walked up to the still-smoldering wreckage of a house.

He walked inside and noticed, on the ground, a pile of scorched armor and a sword. As he picked up the armor, something inside rattled; he shook it and winced slightly as ashes and burnt bone fragments rattled out of the armor.

Tears came to Marron's eyes and he wiped them away. Father, I promise I will find whomever is responsible for your death. I will make them pay dearly.

He lifted up his father's blade, a large Heaven's Gate sword. He swung it through the air a few times, taking in the feel of the gigantic blade as he brandished it amidst the wreckage of his house.

-----

"Power Strike!"

A young blonde-haired warrior, about six years old, eagerly brandished a shortsword as he ran at his father. With a loud yell, he crashed into the older warrior's armor. The White Knight laughed as he pretended to fall to the ground.

"I got you, Daddy! I got you good on that one!" The young boy pranced eagerly around his father's figure.

"Hah, Dariel…" The knight unsheathed his own sword, a large Heaven's Gate, and playfully bonked his son on the head with the hilt. The boy fell on top of his father.

"Ow, Daddy, that hurt!" he whined, staring at the huge sword. "Wow, Daddy, that's a big sword! It looks so cool! Can I try it?"

The knight laughed. "Sure, Dariel, of course." He handed the sword to the child, who of course couldn't lift it from the ground. After a while, panting, he finally collapsed onto the ground. "It's too big." he muttered disconsolately.

"Don't worry, Dariel. Someday, if you train hard, you will be able to wield that sword. You'll be a great warrior. You will be a hero."

"You promise, Daddy?" he stared up into his father's eyes.

"Yes, Dariel." He ruffled his son's blonde hair. "I promise.

-----

Marron sighed ruefully as he stared once more at the burnt armor. Carefully, he gathered up all the ashes and fragments from the floor and placed them in a small box lying on the floor. He then took the box and laid it carefully on the shelf above the fireplace. Then, he unsheathed his Doombringer and carefully laid the great sword underneath the box. Silently, he returned the Heaven's Gate to his own sheath, then left the house.

He walked silently along the path out of Perion, towards Henesys. He really had no reason for going to the archer city, but he just felt he had to walk- anything to clear his mind. His greaves echoed across the burnt ground as he took the path.

As he neared, however, he could see that something was definitely wrong. In the distance, there was a loud commotion, and as he got closer, he could hear the clanging of swords and the roaring of monsters. The horribly familiar scent of burnt flesh lingered in the air. Swearing, Marron unsheathed the Heaven's Gate and dashed forward towards the plains of Henesys.

He barely had time to think before a Tauromacis lunged furiously at him, its spear raised. With a massive effort, he roared, "Power Guard!" The spear bounced off of his blade; with a shout of "Fire Charge!" Marron impaled it through the chest, and it fell.

He dashed forward, and he could see that this was a war of some sort; warriors, magicians, bowmen, and thieves battling Tauros and mysterious shadow figures, with others hurling attacks at Crimson Balrogs in the background. Anxious to get an explanation, Marron used Combo Attack to hew aside another slew of Tauros, then ventured forward to where Grendel and Dark Lord were watching the fight.

"Excuse me!" The two leaders looked up to see a crusader with a Heaven's Gate sword draped across his back. "What's going on here?!"

"Gault Isentryx attacked." Grendel said darkly. "Athena and Sitting Bull are attempting to drive back his forces. If you have any sense, you'd better go out and fight with them."

"So I will." Marron responded, before raising his sword. He slashed another Tauromacis to pieces before driving his blade through several shadow figures as they rushed towards him, and then he was lost in the tide, another warrior fighting against the masses of evil.

The battle dragged on furiously. It soon became clear that the human troops were losing their edge in the fight. As skilled as the fighters were, they could not compete against sheer numbers of the opposing forces. Quickly, Athena and Sitting Bull headed back to report that their main priority would be to evacuate all the citizens unable to fight. Grendel and Dark Lord solemnly received the message and immediately headed off with the other two to round up all the townspeople and move them to a safer location. Without the leaders, the remaining fighters would probably be slaughtered, but that simply couldn't be helped. This was war, and the only thing to do was to save the townspeople.

Marron made his way to the frontlines where several other warriors were furiously fighting against the beasts that threatened them. One crusader impaled a Taurospear through the heart only to be cut down by its companion's spear shortly after. Once more, Marron was forcibly reminded of the battle with the forces near Henesys- but this was different. This time, they were fighting the real enemy.

Fired with this knowledge, he snapped his fingers and commanded, "Combo Attack! Fire Charge!" Red-hot flames began to leap about his blade as blue-white orbs of energy danced around him. His Heaven's Gate dangerously glowing, Marron charged forward. "Dragon Fury!"

The combined force of the attack ripped through the ground, causing the land to erupt with flames and taking out a large line of enemies; the other warriors stared dumbfoundedly at this new arrival who could utilize the powers of all the warriors.

"What are you staring for?" The blonde-haired warrior shook his hair out of his eyes. "You won't be able to save your families if you stand there! Charge!" He raised his blade and dashed forward into the thicket of enemies.

Encouraged by the warrior's words, the crowd of defenders gave an almighty roar and followed after Marron, viciously slashing and casting spells to defend their homes. Nevertheless, for every enemy one soldier brought down, Marron slaughtered two or three. No enemy could stand in the way of his combined skills and his father's sword.

Marron fought his way through the frontlines of the enemy ranks and quickly broke through their defenses, creating an opening. I have to clear this area, and fast. Quickly, he raised his Heaven's Gate and plunged it into the ground. "Dragon Roar!"

An array of purple lightning ripped forth from the ground, throwing the limp bodies of countless Tauros into the air. Panting, Marron sunk to his feet as the exhaustion of the attack overwhelmed him. Above him, he saw a Taurospear raised its gigantic weapon; he tensed himself, preparing to dive out of the way, but as the Taurospear struck, another warrior leaped in the way of the blast, getting impaled and showering Marron with droplets of his blood.

"Damn it!" Marron staggered to his feet and quickly slew the Taurospear with a cry of "Panic!" before turning to the fatally wounded warrior. "Why did you save me?" he asked, bending over the man.

"You're…our…only…hope…" the warrior coughed. "There…are…energy pills…in my pack. T…ake them…for yourself."

With that, the fallen warrior expired; Marron furiously bowed his head, but he knew the warrior was right. He was the human resistance's only hope at the moment. He rummaged through the warrior's pockets and found a small supply of concentrated potion pills, which he stowed in his own pockets before forging on.

With the pills he had taken from the warrior, Marron was able to slay countless enemies, but no matter how many foes he cut down, two more sprung up to take their places. Dammit! We need a wide-range attack to scatter their forces. I could try Dragon Roar, but it's too weak at the moment. Besides, I'll only exhaust myself. He cast a despairing glance at the sky. Where the hell are Athena and Sitting Bull when you need them?

A menacing growl came from above him; Marron rolled out of the way just in time to avoid a dark burst of lightning. It was a Crimson Balrog, its great fangs bared. Swiftly, Marron raised his sword and leaped at the great creature. "Spiral Slash Strike!" He cleaved off the great demon's leg; it gave a howl of pain and toppled over. He had to smile as he remembered the first time he had used that technique.

Ark…Ryden…where are you?

Those two were his friends, more or less, but they weren't here now. Despairingly, Marron looked around him; there seemed no end in sight to the enemies, and although the defenders fought valiantly, they were no match for sheer numbers. Quickly, Marron gauged the situation. We need to separate their forces so they're easier to handle. Athena and Sitting Bull don't seem to be around, so it looks like…this is my job.

Another Crimson Balrog charged at him; without faltering, he leapt up to meet it. "Thunder Charge…Charge Blow!" There was a tremendous flash of lightning as he blast a great gaping hole through the demon's chest; it fell limply to the ground as he landed.

I'm sorry, Seles…but it looks like I'll have to use that technique.

He turned to the fighters behind him and shouted, "Get to a safe distance! When I split them apart, attack in two groups. Make sure they don't regroup! We must divide and conquer!" The defenders nodded in affirmative and retreated slightly, leaving Marron alone on the plains as the gigantic group of monsters charged at him.

The lone crusader stared fiercely at the beasts charging at him, his Heaven's Gate shining in the dim light as his hair fluttered in the wind.

It was you bastards that destroyed Perion, my home, and my father. I'll never forgive you for this. I'm taking you to hell with me.

The monsters were getting closer and closer; without faltering, Marron gripped his Heaven's Gate and held it above his head. "Combo Attack!" he shouted in a commanding tone, as if he knew these were the last words he was about to speak.

Blue globes of light began to swirl around him; he concentrated the magic until there was a helical column of blue light surrounding him and giving him an eerie glow, his hair rapidly fluttering in the wind that his enchantment kicked up.

"Fire Charge!" He began to swing his sword in a circular motion, twirling it about his wrist. As the sword spun faster and faster, orange flames began to leap from the hilt, illuminating the crusader's face against the dark atmosphere. The flames combined with the energy from his previous attack, kicking up even more dust and wind.

This is it. I'm going to use the forbidden arte that Seles taught me.

He grit his teeth as the monsters neared him. Raising his flaming sword, he pointed it at his enemies. "Dragon's Blood!" He felt the power of the Dragon Knights soak into him as his vitality quickly drained. There wasn't much time left. This would be his final attack.

Marron's eyes were closed, but he could still feel the gigantic group of monsters bearing down on him. He continued to twirl his sword in midair, letting it absorb the fiery mana in the air until it was a great star of pure heat and light.

The nearest Tauromacis raised its spear, about to strike.

Marron brought the great sword across in a vicious arc, completely vaporizing the Tauromacis in a burst of great flame. As he swung his sword, a storm of superheated air flowed out and proceeded to vaporize a large section of the opposing army, blowing them away in a hail of ashes.

A Crimson Balrog soared at him, its claws crackling with evil energy; before it could strike, he made another great slash in midair, instantly incinerating it and sending out another great gust of burning air. The atmosphere ignited as the crusader continued to swing his sword, incinerating great crowds of foes.

Finally, after completing six fiery rounds of the sword, he set his glare on the crowd of enemies remaining, his fiery blade poised.

This is it. Now, you die!

He slammed the blade ferociously into the ground, burying it a foot in the earth.

"Brimstone Tempest!!"

With a loud groan, the ground began to shake and crack, pieces of rubble and stone vibrating across the ground. The monsters paused for a second, puzzled, before charging at the crusader, his blade still buried in the ground.

Then, suddenly, the earth beneath their feet was obliterated. It was as though the world had turned inside out as immense ammounts of fiery magic burst through the ground as though it were paper. Lava and fiery rocks spewed from the cracks in the earth, blanketing the field with great clouds of volcanic steam.

Marron sunk to his knees as his mana left him, totally exhausted. With some satisfaction, he noted that he had eliminated about half of the monsters on the field. It would be easy for his comrades to defeat the rest of the troops now.

He felt extremely tired and wanted to lie down, but he kept his grip on the huge blade until exhaustion and lack of mana forced him to the ground.

Dad… I did it. I've avenged you.

He tiredly rummaged through his pocket and found a small handful left of the pills that the warrior had given him. He put one in his mouth, then stared at the rest of the blue capsules. After looking at them for a few moments, he stuffed all of the pills in his mouth and forced himself to swallow. He felt his strength return to him somewhat; using the Heaven's Gate as support, he pulled himself up and slowly walked back to the back of the battlefield, the warriors streaming past him as they charged.

Marron brushed some of his sweaty hair out of his face and sheathed his great blade, taking a deep breath of the fresh air. He stared at the battle behind him, furiously raging on, but now turning in their favor. He smiled, even as he winced in pain. At least he had finally fulfilled his responsibility as the future leader of the warriors.

Indeed, Sitting Bull and Athena rushed up to him, both beaming. "That was amazing!" Athena said breathlessly. "You single-handedly turned the tide of battle in our favor…"

"Don't mention it." Marron said, folding his hands behind his back.

"Indeed." Sitting Bull gave a rare smile. "I am surprised you have mastered that arte; no one, not even Keiga Seles, has been able to perform that technique without killing themselves in the past century." He sighed. "Your father would have been proud of you, Aslan…"

The effect was electric; Marron's face immediately went the color of the snow around him as he stared at Sitting Bull with a mixture of disgust and hate.

"D…Don't…" Marron's voice was laced with shocked fury; a tear dripped down his cheek and his hands were clenched into furious fists. "Don't…call me by that name! And don't mention my father like that!"

Athena glanced at Sitting Bull out of the corner of her eye, expecting to see her hot-tempered counterpart give the boy a thorough shouting for his disrespect. However, to her utter amazement, the leader of the warriors only made a small apologetic nod. "My sincerest apologies, Dariel."

Marron furiously turned on his heel and stomped away, leaving deep tracks in the snow. Sitting Bull forlornly watched as the crusader angrily left.

"What…was that about?" Athena dared to ask.

Sitting Bull merely stared up at the sky. "Keiga Seles had a son eighteen years ago. The boy's mother died during childbirth, and Seles was devastated. At the time, he was training to become a Dark Knight and simply couldn't fulfill his parental duties under the circumstances. He gave the boy, which he christened Aslan, to a longtime friend of his, Kain Marron." He sighed as Athena looked on interestedly.

"It was no secret that Kain was a much better father than Seles ever could be. He renamed the child Dariel, after the legendary Paladin Dariel Ryuuzaki. In any case, Kain and Dariel shared a closer bond than any father could with his son. Dariel lived his entire childhood life believing that Kain was his real father. When Kain returned him to Seles as part of his training, Dariel became extremely distraught when Seles told him that he was his true father and that his name was Aslan. To this very day, he still refuses to acknowledge the fact that he is Seles' son."

Athena put a hand over her mouth, as Sitting Bull went on.

"The confrontation left a great mental scar upon Seles for the rest of his life. He regretted that he would rather have been a Dark Knight than a good father to his son. As a result, his once-legendary power has since faded. He is not the warrior he used to be."

"That's horrible…" Athena murmured. "To live your life raised by a false parent, not knowing who your true bearers were…" She stared at the ground. "He must be suffering greatly."

"They both are." Sitting Bull responded sadly, deciding that now was not the appropriate time to remind Athena of the irony of her remark. "In any case, we should thank Aslan for his contribution to our victory. Gault will not rest idly after this defeat." He turned on his heel and walked away.

Athena watched him leave; somehow, his words reminded her of Zeraion Phoenix.

Her heart caught with a mixture of pity and self-guilt; sighing, she pushed the feeling away and followed after him, her footsteps echoing across the scarred, burnt ground.

-----

Author's Note: Thus ends another long, inane, inconsistent chapter of this story. I hope you enjoyed it. :D

The 'incident' in Iggy's early life that was referred to will be revealed next chapter.

First of all, Brimstone Tempest is the name of a Hi-Ougi used by Largo in Tales of the Abyss. Oh, and by the way, the story about what happened to Ryden's parents has an eerie resemblance to what happened to Lloyd's parents in Tales of Symphonia. (I swear, I didn't notice the similarity until I re-read it and I was like, "O…kay…")

So, anyway, feel free to comment and criticize at your whim. Good reviews speed up the next chapter. People who tell me that my plot is inconsistent will have the opposite effect.