Sweey: Danku very much for the kind reviews. Lucky you you you, cuz you guyz made me wanna write some more! WOO HOO for YOU! So, I am aware of my stupid mistakes in the last chapter... typos more like... I was being distracted by Kotaro's hansom wings... *-* He so pretty... I want to touch. Too bad he's not real. Dude, I'd date so many of the guys in my imagination, unfortunately they're stuck there... DANG IT! Anyways, back to this story. I like how it's going. :3 So, here we will be switching from Allison's PoV to third person, following Edge, Jeb, and Rioku as they try to beat Dai, Anon, and Faceless to the Second Fortress on a random planet... which has a name I'm gonna make up in like... ten sentences from the first. lol shall we continue?

"You see, I am simply one hell of a butler..."

Kudos for anyone who knows who says that in a particular anime.

On a side note, thank you new reviewer silentperson! You burst me into action again! ;D That takes some doing! So please, enjoy this next chapter!

So much for keeping this story under ten chaps! FORGIVE ME CRISPY! I'M SURE YOU'RE DYING FROM IRRITATION! XD haha I think I'm just writing this story because I can, so who knows how long it will last. In facto, I have NO idea who that shape-shifter is... then again, I had no idea who Anonymous was either when I first wrote him, so I guess this may prove interestante... (brushin' up on me spanish... which btw I have a B in that class now! :D MUAH) NOW! I BID THEE ADO! GO READ!

~Chapter 10 Whispered Words~

I had been sent back to my room. I was alone now. Daisuke was on the control deck, I assumed he was driving the ship. I hoped he was. Faceless and Anonymous had taken the scraps left over from our meal of veggies and pasta, topped with a lovely pile of shrimp. It was a delecious meal. The fear from being captured had made me incredibly hungry. Faceless had watched me a moment with some interest, however he had gotten in some random conversation with Daisuke about something called a pennywhistle.

"It is related to the recorder, is it not?" He had asked the Iwerdish shinobi.

"It is. That and the piccolo."

"I see. So it is a perfect balance between enragingly irritating and impossibly mediocre."

"I suppose you could put it that way, to be sure."

I gradually came to realize that they were discussing an instrument. This one I had never heard of before. Probably because I don't listen to Irish music very often. It had a weird name. Then again, what instrument doesn't have a wierd name. I mean: piano, obo, trumpet, violin. They are all weird, but I suppose their unique names each stand for their unique sounds.

"So, what is a pennywhistle and why is it called that?"

Faceless, seeming irritated that I had butted into their conversation, brushed off such information with a sarcastic remark, "Could it be that it sounds like a whistle and only costs a penny?"

I scowled, "How was I supposed to know that?"

"I thought you might know," Faceless muttered, "Seeing as you know everything."

This remark had been said once or twice to me since I had sat at the table with them. I had muttered a fact I knew about something Faceless had said, "To where are we going?"

Of course, he was not talking about the Second Fortress. It had, in fact, been a far deeper question. One that involved the inferno and the heavens. I had no idea he was capable of such thoughts in his current state. Though, it was apparent that Stranger's mind was still the dominant force, how ever weak it was. How did I know this?

He still spoke to me in riddles.

"My dear, if you are not a part of the conversation, do not enter it. 'else you may find yourself in a corner with not a space between my blade and your heart. Think twice before you act, girl."

For a moment I thought he was serious, but a quick glance to Anonymous made me realize that his words weren't as they seemed. I thought them over for a long time and defined their true meaning.

"My dear, you are not allowed to talk to me unless I address you, so don't. Otherwise I will tear you to pieces with my words, crushing your emotions into tiny shreds. So do not dare do that again."

The threat was real enough, of course, he had to make it seem all the more bitter with his sharp glare. He looked away from me and that was the end of the meal, for afterwords everyone else stood to go about their business.

Before he went to help Faceless cleaning after the meal, Anonymous walked me to my cell -a comfortable room with plush furniture- and locked me in. I could hear Faceless's footfalls on the metal floor of the ship as he walked back and forth with dishes and the whooshing sound his cape made when he changed direction. I could hear it crinkling as the draft of wind created by his frisk walking pace.

I sighed, rolling over on the bed. As I laid there listening to Faceless's footsteps and Anonymous's silent pattering behind him, I couldn't help but wonder how it all came to this. I had no idea what would happen when we got to the Second Fortress. Stranger was with me, however he was lost in his own battle inside his own mind. Daisuke and Anonymous, no matter how nice they seemed, were still my enemies.

Before I knew it, sleep interrupted my thinking as the purr of the engine lulled my eyes shut.

The lock turned and the door creeped open, as did my eyes. However, I heard no one enter.

The door shut.

I turned and looked out into the darkness. Gradually, the gray form of Anonymous shaped into my vision and, like a star, his one eye glowed, staring down at me vacant of any emotion. It was almost frightening looking up at him as he stared down at me as though I was nothing but a ripple in the air he breathed.

I sat up and pulled me knees up, allowing my chin a place to rest. I continued staring at him, unsure of what might occur if I were to break eye contact. He was the enemy. I knew him not. For all I knew he came in here to molest me or murder me in my sleep. Perhaps he simply wanted to stare at me.

That was not it. He slowly came down to his knees beside my bed and held out his hand, his palm exposed as he offered it to me. Slowly, I took it and he held it. His hands were so cold. I could feel the warmth of mine heating his. He was ever so distant as he stared back at me, like a ghost still lost in the world of the living.

He pulled my hand up to his cheek, to the cloth skin that enveloped his face in gray. He ran my hand over the single black tear that ran under his eye. I felt as though he was trying to tell me something. However, his inability to speak was proving to be a problem.

Realizing I did not understand what he was trying to communicate, his free hand shot quickly for the zipper that attatched his mask to the black cloth that encased his neck. Before I knew it I could feel the skin beneath it. He encouraged my hand to explore. I found long strips of fleshy roughness that so greatly contrasted the smoothness of his skin. I slowly began to realize what it was I was feeling.

Scars.

Why he wanted me to feel them I was not sure. Though the moment my expression changed with realization he pulled my hand away hastily and secured has cloth mask. He pulled back and stood straight-backed before me. I slowly began to understand what it was he was trying to say.

He had been scared once too, just like I am now. In a sense, I felt he was appologizing for his bold actions the night before when he undid my shackles. He could not speak, so touch was the second best form of communication. I had learned from a previous teacher that eighty percent of our communication was through body language. Perhaps that was why I could understand him.

My teachers, man, if only they knew what I'd gone through. Maybe then they'd stop giving me homework!

Then again, experience is the best teacher.

I looked up at Anonymous, but he was gone again.

I looked at the door and there he was, standing there in his ghost-like way. His mysterious manner was beginning to gnaw at my curiosity. I wanted to know how he got those scars. More than that, I wanted to see his face.

He jerked his head for me to follow him, so I did.

He lead me down a small hallway to another door. I realized then that the ship was far larger than I thought it was. It was not even close to the size of the halberd, but it was comfortably about one-fourth of the size. It had its own escape pods. When I say had, I mean had. They were gone, all but one remained.

I bumped into him, not realizing he had stopped. He looked at me, a little startled. Anonymous recovered and opened the door to a small library. Once again, I was confused. He lead me gently to a chair and had me sit down before he ran off to do something I was too tired to take notice of. I was comfortable enough, the chair was plush and made of red fabric. It seemed that no matter where I was, there was always at least one plush chair made of red fabric. I thought this as I recalled Stranger's own chair back at his home in the forest. Life seemed so peaceful back then. Three or four days spent in the forest and I had nearly forgotten all that had happened before I came to study under Stranger. I threw my gaze to a nearby clock. After a few frustrated minutes of trying to read it, I finally managed to learn that it was precisely 1:37 in the morning.

That late in the night, or rather, that early in the morning. I placed a hand on my temple and drew a circle around it, trying to releave the headache that had formed there. I was thinking more and more like Stranger without even realizing it.

In prime of that, I muttered, "Before I know it I'll start talking without any contractions!"

Anonymous looked back at me out of the corner of his eye from where he stood looking at a bunch of books on the shelves. Seeing as we were in a library, it was only natural.

I dozed off around 1:52 when he came back and sat infront of me. I was startled by the hungry look in his eye, but then he handed me something. It was hard, squarish, and had paper inside. Eventually I discerned that the foreign artifact in my hands was in fact a book. Only natural, seeing as we were in a library.

I looked back down at him, no doubt with a puzzled look on my face. His gaze met mine and he gave the book a gentle nudge, pushing it furthur onto my lap.

I felt my head tilt to the side. This ninja, who had skillfully plotted my demise, was asking me to read to him. Not only that, he was almost childlike in his request. However, his choice of reading was not at all childlike. It was a book of poetry, all in flowing manuscript. Some were incredibly dark, others humorous, and several were stained with my tears as I read aloud to him.

"Mourning forever and ever on and on.

The night shall never wake with dawn.

A heart beat of a heart of stone.

A quiet mutter, a sickening groan.

Here ever on and on,

I wander to no end.

No final destination,

No single explanation,

To this wanderlust.

Shall I find a place to rest my head,

With no home, no love, no bed?

I am doomed to continue,

To carry through, with what I must do.

I feel as though I am elsewhere,

Another heart I share.

What is this inside me?

What must I do to break free?

I have yet to find the answer."

I paused after reciting such questioning poetry. I felt some sort of connection click in my mind. However, I continued to read another.

"Lost,

Eternally,

Terribly,

My only company,

Ever watching

Demons of old.

I sit in this cage.

Enraged."

I shivered, running my eyes over the poem once more. Slowly I realized the hidden message, "Let me die", written with each of the first letters of each stanza. I looked to Anonymous and he urged me to continue reading.

"Once upon a firefly I could believe,

Until I was forced to take my leave.

With no place to roam and be free,

I climbed to the highest branches of a tree.

There I could see a land beyond reality.

Where there was birth, but no fatality."

Another read:

"There's a great old tree in the middle of a hill,

Next to the hive of a bee on the way to a mill.

That great old oak would never bend in the wind.

And those winds still try and choke and send,

That great old tree to whither and sway.

Then came the very day,

When the earth did shake,

That day the tree did break.

Now this is what the once great tree did say:

"If the ground beneath you is firm and your roots deep,

Then your position you shall keep.

But should the ground beneath you shift and shake,

Then you shall surely break.""

I had finished the book. As I flipped over one more page, I found not a poem, but a letter sewn inside to the back cover of the book.

"October 5th, The Year of the Unknown."

Odd, I never heard of such a year. I shrugged and continued to read.

"Elshuay, tell me what I must do and I will do it without hesitation! My life... it has been thrashed into a million pieces, to the point I can no longer identify the shards. My own kin do not care whether I should die or live. They know not who I am. They are luke-warm to this tattered and lonely heart. They can never hope to see the dedication, the detail, the perfection, the toil in my work. They only see my flaws. I am falling apart, both physically and mentally. My body is at constant war with my soul and my mind is ever battling with the demons constantly hunting me. I am coming to a gradual understanding of the consequences that come with being who I am. There is nothing I can do to restore my actions in the past... there are already so many countless acts that I wish I could take back... but perhaps if I did I would not be the same person I am today. My mistakes define who I am, I only wish I could see that as a good thing.

Though I am still young, I feel I have no time. My future is already upon me and the final steps of my childhood will be taken and forever a thing of the past.

Since that day of my failure, I have never been able to breathe quite the same. My heart is heavy and doubt ever gnaws at my soul and mind. No comfort can I find here in this dark place... and what is offered I do not deserve... therefore it cannot be accepted. My illness, as I said in previous entries, has consumed my very being, bit by bit. I am becoming someone whom I can no longer identify myself as... I am a stranger to myself and to those around me. I am selfish, bitter, and angry, toward everyone and every situation. Not always am I open in such emotions... sometimes I have none at all.

I am becomming fatigued. I do not eat, I do not drink, I am robbed of sleep for fear if I close my eyes I will enter into the ruinous nightmares of my past. I have lost inspiration to continue... I fear that may prove fatal for me. My world is a gyration, full of poignant failure, dark days, and these demons that constantly follow me. I feel like a broken story, forgotten and distorted by the lips reciting the literature of my life. I feel tenuous and alone unless I am in the darkness of night, walking with my wanderlust. This entry is nothing but an incoherent jumple of thoughts now... a lackadaisical misunderstanding in my mind.

I want to be left alone. My shame, I feel, is closing in around me as the days draw closer and closer since that day of confusion. I seem to write only at times such as this... when I am weary and ready to give in -to die. I was not prepared for any of this... none of it! Nor did I ask for this! If they would only take three steps back soI may take three steps forward, I could shed this terrible situation off of my shoulders. It seems apparent that they refuse to, so I must step up to the frontlines, blades in hand, prepared for the final plunge. I must drop my dearest belongings -dreams, hopes, and my future as a person- to keep it from slowing me down, from weighing me down to my death. Now, like an archer, I must lift my bow, take my aim, and pray it hits the target... but like every good archer, I know that without practice, there is little hope for success; however, there is always luck!

I want to be remembered by those I love. However, such a desire seems so foolish now. They are all dead. I want to escape from this cruel, heartless reality I have been forced to live through. I want to be rid of this putrid, hate-filled, laberynth of lies, and selfish world I am forced to serve. Can they not open their eyes and see I want nothing to do with them and their plans? They must be deaf... or maybe their hearts are dead. Through my life, I plan to help Elshuay restore them. I am weary now; so I shall place my quill in its rightful place and retire. Pray that this night... will be the night that the terrors of my imagination cease.

Sincerely,"

"Altan Dawn...?" I read the name in confusion. That was Stranger's name.

I flipped through the book but found nothing that furthur cured my curious investigation. I looked down as my legs began to tingle from sitting in the same position for so long. Anonymous had fallen asleep, his arms cushioning his head on my legs. His breathing was even and soothing. I was unsure of what I should do. Waking him may prove problematic.

"So he fell asleep on ye, did he now?"

I looked up and found Daisuke leaning in the door way.

"Don't be worrying now, the ship's on auto pilot," he said, smiling.

I nodded, "I wasn't worried."

"Sure ye weren't, but ye told me with the look on ye'r face," he said softly. Daisuke's gaze fell to Anonymous, "He's been through a lot o' hell, so he has. He would be so young now, only just a few months since his seventeenth birthday."

I dropped my gaze onto the white hair of Anonymous.

"He's only a few years older than I am," I whispered.

"Aye, though he seems to be seven years older than he really be," he sighed. "I suppose trying times are those that age us the quickest. Faster than time in my opinion." He looked at me from Anonymous, "He's taking a liking to ye."

I blushed.

"I wouldn't be so rash to say he likes ye that much, but he likes ye, lassie. No doubt he is jealous of ye'r voice," Daisuke sighed.

"Jealous?"

"Aye, jealous," he said, pushing himself from the wall so he was standing on his own. "Like I said before, lassie, he's been through hell and back again, literally."

"So, what happened to him?"

"He'll answer that question when he sees the time as right. It's not my place to shed light on secrets I've not been permitted speakin' of."

I nodded, frowning slightly but respecting Daisuke for his curtosy toward his friend.

"I will tell ye this though, at one time he could speak. In fact, he still can; however, ye and I cannot hear him with our ears alone."

I looked up, puzzled with what he said to me.

"In time ye will understand, lassie. Oh, and by the way," he turned and looked at me from the series of books he was looking at, "I appreciate ye'r reading to him. I would do it me'self, but I don't be havin' the time. He loves books, that's why I did have a library installed on the ship o' the Shinobi Twelve. It cost more than a couple o' pennies, but it was well worth more than a pot o' gold in me mind. I am certain the lad has read every one of these twice or more."

I smiled, "You're a kind and gentle soul, Daisuke."

He laughed softly, "Ye act as if ye know me well enough say a thing like that!" He paused and frowned uncharacteristically, "Lassie, do care for him while ye are here. He needs such attention and I would fear I have been absent to long to take on such a responsibility. Dealing with all this trouble is really getting to me."

"Daisuke, I will. May I ask though, why I am here?"

"Twas for ye'r safety, lassie," he whispered. "If Faceless had learned that I helped ye, I swear it to ye, we would all be dead now, to be sure."

He sat down on the floor beside me, leaning his head back on the arm of the chair, "Faceless be an uncanny and troubled soul. Do not take him lightly. He seems to be levelheaded, but I assure ye, he'll kill you on the spot if he sees ye as a threat."

"That sounds nothing like him," I whispered.

Daisuke stood up and spoke in a stern voice, "Ye've got to get that Wanderer out of ye'r head, now! He is trapped inside that demon's soul. There be nothing ye can do to change that. For now, ye must wait until the poison has left his blood and pray he does not get another dose by the time we arrive to the Second Fortress, or when we do. It be like a dark medicine, each dose overlaps the last and he only gets further and further away from being human and closer to becoming a demon."

"How can we stop this? It all seems so hopeless," I muttered.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up to Daisuke's eyes. It was then I noticed that his left eye was adorned with a slitted pupil like Anonymous and his right also glowed slightly. They were so very blue, like the richest sky of a morning bright. The six black tears that elaborated his eyes never ceased to create curiosity within me. Anonymous also had one on his mask and I had to wonder if somehow the two were connected.

There was a hint of sadness in his voice, as though remembering something in his past he regretted, "Nothing is ever hopeless, lassie. It be only what ye do with the situation that determines the outcome or not. If ye do what ye'r heart says is right, then that is that, no matter the consequence. I should know, I have been in such situations all my long life."

He pulled back and straightened his back, sticking a hand in his pocket and another on his chin. "I do be thinking it might be wise for ye two to go to bed. I imagine ye'r in Anonymous's bed. I'll make him a pallet on the floor for him to sleep on." He bent over and scooped the masked shinobi off of the floor like a child and carried him back to his room. As I walked behind him, I found myself staring at the masked shinobi that rested limp in the red headed ninja. I swore I saw his eye open and meet my gaze, however briefly. So much so, I questioned if it had even happened.

Daisuke stopped and looked back at me from over his shoulder.

"Give me a moment, I need to set him on the bed so I can make up the pallet, if you don't be mindin'."

"No problem," I replied. I still was a little unsure about talking so casually with him. He was, in fact, the one who had dragged me into this mess, whether he orginally had planned to only be kind to me and help me out of the storm.

He finished making the pallet on the floor with various blankets from a trunk at the foot of Anonymous's bed. By this time, Anonymous had awoken and sat up drowsily before realizing where he was. He stood to his feet and shook his head as though clearing stray thoughts from his mind. I saw him look at Daisuke and for a moment the two were caught in one another's gaze. In my observation I saw Anonymous's jaw drop beneath his mask as if he had forgotten he could not speak. I had to wonder what it was he was planning on saying.

"Ye'r welcome, Anon," Daisuke said smiling.

Anonymous dipped his head slowly.

"Now ye two get some rest," Daisuke said soflty, watching as Anonymous lowered himself on the floor of blankets and I followed his example, crawling under the quilts that layered the bed loaned to me.

The light flickered off and Daisuke smiled, the hallway light illuminating the right side of his smiling face. "See yous both in the morn."

With that, he closed the door and darkness over came the room. I glanced over at Anonymous, waiting until I could see the faded silhouette of his body laying on the floor as he slowly drifted to sleep. I rolled over, rubbing my face in the pillow. It smelled sweet.

...

"So, I never got the chance to ask, but why are you hear Edge?"

Edge looked over his shoulder at Rioku and smirked, "How well do you know my master?"

Rioku drew his brows together, jigging his head to the side, looking a might taken back by the young shadow's remark.

"I know him," he paused and swallowed, "Well enough." He shook his head in exasperation, "That still didn't answer my question."

"Stranger sent him a letter a few months ago. Apparently, a girl named..." he paused as the name escaped him.

Jebediah reminded him, "Allison."

"Right, that was her name," Edge muttered. He sat up a little straighter, loosing his focus. A quick pinch on his shoulder from a certain shinobi reminded him. He glared at Rioku then rubbed his shoulder looking annoyed, "Stranger requested that we Amasi aid him in this so that she may be introduced to our ways. So that she would not be caught off guard if she met one in her travels and so she would know what to do when facing one."

Rioku, once again appeared taken back, "There is hardly any reason for that. The number of Dark Amasi left is nearly exhausted! I mean, why would he really want you to come?"

"Maybe," Jebediah started soflty, "Maybe in the back of his mind, Stranger knew that something like this was going to happen."

"There is that," Edge said, "That is incredibly possible, knowing Stranger. He has a great sense of instinct that he follows. As a Wanderer, that is only natural."

"It is called wanderlust," Rioku said in a soft voice. He looked up into the stars that stretched out before them, "And without his help, this mission to rescue them will be no easy task." His eye widened as he came to a realization. He turned to the others, "Meta Knight is not to hear of this, understood?" His voice was unwavering and demanded obedience alone.

"Since when did you become the figure of leadership around here?"

Rioku bit his bottom lip and looked at the culprit.

"Someone has to Edge. Seeing as I am older than you and only half blind, I naturally took it as my responsibility."

Edge, who wasn't about to argue, shrugged in reply.

Rioku sighed heavily, "Who knows what will happen if we fail. The result could be devestating."

"You are right, Shenkai Rioku. Though I do not think it wise to leave you alone on such a matter as this."

Rioku turned slowly toward the voice, falling to the floor in a hasty bow.

"Anduin-sama! I was not aware that you were here! Forgive me, as a ninja I should have been the first to know this!"

...

Sweey: Gonna break off this party here for now. Think I might go do some drawing... or maybe I'll go edit Frenemies and post another chap of that too. Man, I'm so tired! XD haha Not tired, exhausted! :) Well, please review my friends! It really encourages me and, for your benefit, it makes me want to update my stories faster! ^^ Later gators!