Hola guys! Once again, sorry for the late update. I kinda got lazy with writing lol. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter - its a little bit shorter then this rest, but I think you will love the surprise!

The morning sunlight glared from the corner of the curtain into Balthier's eyes, rousing him from a peaceful sleep. Turning groggily to his side, away from the light, he took Storm into his embrace, burying his head in the crease of her neck and breathed in her natural scent - a fine mixture of blueberries and honey blended harmoniously with a dab of salt. It was something he couldn't get enough of, being almost addicted to it.

He watched her while she absentmindedly fiddled with the locket around his neck, tracing little designs over the cool surface with her thumb. Her head came to rest on his shoulder, eyes fluttering restlessly. Little soft noises croaked in her throat, and Balthier smiled at her. For once, since Leah's death, he was happy.

Last night had been a mistake on his end. He shouldn't have ever walked in on her and initiated such an intimate moment, but memories had overtaken him to the point where he had to put an end to them by indulging himself in the embrace of another woman. Now, he couldn't stop the pulsating need coursing through his body, begging him to become one with her. Even if he was saying no, his heart and body was saying yes. He wanted her, craved her, to the point where it drained all sanity from him. He was almost in the right mind to take her in her sleep, but dignity held him in check. Why did she keep reminding him so much of Leah? She was like a darker mirror image - the more rowdy, rambunctious side of the same woman he'd use to love. It was something that drove him crazy.

Green eyes peeked from under long, dark lashes. Storm let out a tired yawn, blinking several times to clear her vision, before she wrestled out from under him and triumphed him by straddling his waist. Balthier arched his head back, unleashing a throaty groan she stifled out through a series of kisses. It would have been the easiest thing in the world to enter her and be done with temptation, but Balthier held his ground.

He did, however, allowed his hands to roam over her back down to her hips as the kisses grew more passionate. When she attempted to pull back for a gasp of air, Balthier took the chance to nip her lower lip. He could feel her quake in his arms and it drove him mad with ecstasy. His arm rested on his forehead, a grin wide across his face, eyes locked onto hers. His heart was pounding in his chest with love for her.

"I see you're in a better mood," she said, albeit groggily.

"I guess I was cranky," he replied.

The Demon Hunter went to prop himself up on the pillow but was instantly welcomed by a stinging pain to his side. He grimaced, cupping his side, and pulled his hand back to see a droplet of blood slowly snaking down into his palm.

Storm looked at him in concern. "You should let someone treat that. What if you get an infection?"

"You're right," he agreed, albeit reluctantly. "Maybe you should go get a medic?" He turned, brows raised, towards Lyndon - who was sleeping in the bed beside theirs, smelling of beer and missing half of his clothes. "I don't think he'll be up for another half a day."

She giggled. "You better not be telling me to go out just to get rid of me," she threatened. "If you do, you're gonna feel my wrath!" It was a playfully taunt, one that made Balthier swoop down and kiss her.

"I'm not," he reassured her. "I'll be here when you get back. In fact, I'm gonna go take a bath… a decent bath." He gave her a sly wink, recalling the events from last night.

Storm laughed at his implement. Her cheerfulness, the smile he so loved, warped into a scowl of disdain. "You were very cruel to me last night. I thought I was gonna have a wild time with you, but no! You had to g-" Her rant was interrupted by a passionate kiss assaulting her lips.

"You have my word that I'll never tease you again," he said.

"Promise?"

Balthier rolled his eyes. "I promise."

She went to kiss his cheek, but Balthier flipped her under him, pinning her down by the shoulders, and sweeped down to nip her breast. He flicked her nipple with his tongue, traced around the edge of it, then bit lightly. He felt Storm shiver beneath him, unable to suppress the moan leaving her lips. To muffle the sound, Balthier clashed his lips against hers.

"Shh," he whispered, tracing a line down her neck. "We don't want to wake Lyndon up, now do we?" A mischievous chuckle escaped from him. Oh, how he loved teasing her.

Storm glared at him. "I thought you said you wasn't going to tease me."

"I lied." His voice was a low, pleasant growl.

He pressed his body against hers, hand coming up to grasp her breast. He leaned in for another kiss and paused when he felt Storm's weight shift. A smirk tugged his lips when she bump him off her, sending him tumbling down onto the bed. She positioned herself on top of him, straddling his waist, and flashed him a cocky grin.

"Two people can play at this game, you know," Storm said, eliciting a chuckle from the man under her.

"And just what are you gonna do?"

He felt himself grow harder when Storm began to nibble on his neck. The valley between her legs rubbed up against his groin. Balthier made a muffled groan in the back of his throat when Storm's hand trailed down his stomach to tightly squeeze around his throbbing member. His hand ruffled through her hair while his other one grabbed tightly on to the locket around his neck. Even in such a pleasurable moment, he still thought of his fiancee. The sickening feeling in his gut made him nauseated, but he force the thought of betraying someone long gone into the void of his mind and concentrated on this new, more wonderful sensation taking over.

The Demon Hunter was pulled from his thoughts when he was the verge of finding his much needed release. He dug his nails into the sheets, concentrating on the waves of bliss sent straight to his core from the swirling of her tongue around his shaft. He was almost at his breaking point, biting his lip just to keep from groaning, when Storm rapidly jerked up. Balthier whimpered at being denied his much sought after moment of rapture.

A wicked laugh, muffled by a hand, teased the tortured Demon Hunter. He sat up to stare Storm straight in the eye, angry at her for denying him something he was so deprived of. Then he saw a mischievous, wicked glint in her eyes that made him cringe. Balthier could still feel waves of need still pulsing through him, but he knew just by how Storm looked that she was paying him back for last night.

"Come on," he groan out. "At least I let you finish."

"Sorry," she began, "but revenge is twice as cruel."

She threw herself back down into his arms, and Balthier held to her tightly. All of this was going to hasty for him, and it was his own depravity that had been the catalyst of this impromptu relationship. For all he knew about the woman in his arms, she could be a demon in disguise. He laughed bitterly.

"You know," he said, "I never asked if you had someone."

Storm entwine her arms around his neck, burying her head against him. One hand fell down to clutch the locket once again. She looked at Balthier in turmoil, a strand of tears escaped from her lashes. Knowing he had went too far, he brushed the tears away and kissed her firmly.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

She shook her head. "No. It's just I don't know how to answer that. I mean its complicated."

"I won't ask," he said, holding her firmly in his arms. He kissed her temple while his hands felt over her arms and snaked around her waist, coming to rest on her back. It was soothing, if not for her, than for him.

"Would you believe me if I told you I once had a child by one of the most kindest souls in Sanctuary?" She broke away from his embrace to look into his eyes. Hers were open gates to the broken girl inside. Suddenly, Balthier realized that she was just as broken as him.

"Once," he echoed. "But something terrible happened… didn't it?"

She nodded. "My father ... killed her. He … tortured her in front of me and ..."

Balthier instantly felt his heart sink. It was so hard to wrap his head around why parents, people who was suppose to love their offspring, would do such horrible things to their children. Leah's mother had been the same way, only more subtle in her cruelty. But to kill a child in front of their mother? It infuriated him.

He dragged the crying girl next him down on his chest, kissing the tears away. He knew just how she felt, only he had lost his child before it had ever gotten a chance to breath. The pain he felt couldn't hold a candle compare to her.

"Storm," he called. "Shh, don't cry."

"I can't even look at her father anymore without remembering what happened," she croaked out through her sobs. "He still loves me, I know he does, but I just … can't. Memories come back when I do, and I … just want away."

A kiss stifled out her sobs and deepened to uncontrollable passion. Their hands searched each other in a way that was almost too soothing. Balthier flipped Storm under him, arm around the small of her back, and caressed her cheek, both of them looking each other with pleading eyes.

"I want you," she murmured. Her fingers teased the crease of his neck, trickling down to his locket. "I need you."

"And I you," he whispered. "Storm, I'm beginning to think I'm falling for you, but I'm scared."

"Why?"

He cradled her head while burying his in the crease of her neck, feeling her fingers fishing through his hair. "I don't want to lose anymore."

There were no more words after that. They were both content with just lying there together in each other arms, kissing and caressing each other with love. Storm eventually fell back asleep, wrapped securely in his arms, safe from all harm.

Later, when Lyndon had awaken them by accidentally dropping the entire contents of his bag onto the floor, causing a cluttered mess, Balthier allowed a medic to treat his wounds. A few stitches and bandages later, he was eating lunch beside Storm, sharing half a loaf of bread, apple slices, and cheese with her in enjoyable silence. It was afternoon when they head back out on the road. Storm rode up front, where Balthier could told on to her tightly. Lyndon would occasionally shoot them some peculiar glances but would say nothing about the two's growing relationship.

"When am I going to get my money back?" Lyndon asked Storm.

"I don't know. Go ask the woman that stole it," she replied sarcastically.

"You are the damnest woman alive! Seriously, though, I need that for some more whiskey. I'm out!"

"You could always go rob the moonshiners," she shot back.

Lyndon fell into a long silence, one that amused Balthier, before replying back with, "You know, you're absolutely right!"

"Please don't give him any ideas," Balthier said.

At dusk, instead of continuing on to the next town, they decided to camp under the stars beside a patch of woods surrounding a pond. After a long argument, it was decided that it was Lyndon's turn to go out and hunt, leaving the two lovers alone. Balthier worked hastily to gather wood for a campfire, doing anything he possibly could to keep his desires from ravaging him.

"I'm gonna go rinse off in the pond," Storm called out to him. He gave her a quick nod and hastily went back to work.

However, when she failed to remerge half an hour later, Balthier gave in to his worry and went after her. Through the trees, he saw her perch up on the lone boulder in the middle of the pond, moonlight shining down on her. His breath caught at her beauty. She was so enchanting, just sitting there with her head hung down, seemingly hugging herself. There was such a depressive quality radiating off her. It made him feel bittersweet.

The water rippled behind her, and she turned her head. Balthier's bare arms snaked around her as he leaned down to graze her cheek. She turned around to face him, still perching on the rock, and looked at him with tears in her eyes. Both were nude.

"I made you forget," she mumbled. "Can you make me?"

Here she was, open and bare to him, allowing him to have her if he so chosed. He was already half mad with the urge to feed his depravity, and his growing addiction made it even harder to deny. Somehow, against his will, he ended up between her thighs, kissing the sacred temple between them. Slowly, he began to trail up her stomach, leaving tiny kisses along his path to her chin. Her nipples were hard from the cold when his fingertips found their way across the round of her breasts, flicking one when he came across it. She gasped, giving Balthier the chance to clashed his mouth against her. His other arm held her up while he tweaked her nipple mercilessly. He did not keep track of what her hands were doing until her fingers were massaging the tip of his erection. Balthier gulped the little knot of sickness kindling in his throat and broke the kiss between them.

The whimpers Storm let out were a slew of knives jabbing into his heart. Balthier gazed down at the beauty beneath him, instantly taken away by what he saw. Her body was a temple of fine marble to him. Her hair, wet from a long bath, clung to her neck, water droplets dripping from the ends onto her skin. The green in her eyes looked so much brighter out in the open moonlight, but the cheerfulness she usually basked in had been replaced by this pleading sorrow. He found himself overcome by the urge to wash the sorrow away and replace it with nothing but joy.

He picked her off the rock, holding her up by her thighs. Storm's legs wrapped around his waist as they met for another passionate kiss. The water barely went up to Balthier's hip, letting his erection stand out. Gentle, he lowered Storm down on him until the tip was inside her. She arch back from the sensation with low pleasurable moans on the edge of her lips that were an echoed of his savage grunts. Balthier laid her back on the boulder and began to pump steadily into her. She arched back, giving Balthier the opportunity to take her breast between his teeth. His tongue swirl around the nipple as he sucked. Meanwhile, the hand that was not supporting her back slipped down to the exposed nerves below her waist. He stroke them while he picked up speed. The screams of bliss coming from Storm, the repetitive calls of his name, drowned out his low growls of pleasure.

Pressure built up as he grew closer to release, but he restrained himself. He could feel Storm tense beneath him as her orgasm came near. Her hips rocked with him, and with one last thrust he buried himself deep inside her. Storm let out a manic scream when she finally tipped over the edge of the abyss, letting Balthier let go of his restraint and release his very essence into her.

Trembling, he collapsed down on Storm, panting and tired from the strength it took to hold back. A drop of sweat dripped from the tip of his nose as he picked himself up to embrace the beauty beneath him.

"Storm," he croaked, pulling her up into his arms. " I love you. I love you so much."

She did not say anything in return, letting her actions speak for her as she leaned in to kiss him. It started out gentle but soon turned into a passionate dance of tongues. They stood together in the pond, hands in hands, lost in one another. Balthier swore it was the most perfect moment in his life since Leah died.

Later, when they trekked back from the pond, Lyndon had already returned with the meat of his catch roasting over an open fire. Balthier tossed his crossbows on the ground before he sat down near the fire. Storm disappeared off into the woods, apparently to relieve herself.

"So whatcha catch?" the Demon Hunter shot to Lyndon.

The Scoundrel shrugged. "Not much. A rabbit and squirrel. Take your pick."

"Doesn't matter to me," Balthier replied. "Food is food."

"Then you can eat the grass! More for me!"

Lyndon grinned when Balthier shot him a glare, though both of them began chuckling.

"I'm not a cow," Balthier shot back. "If so, will I be eaten next?"

"Maybe. Or maybe we'll sacrifice you to the gods."

Balthier pouted and threw a rock, barely ghosting past Lyndon's head. They shot each other a daring glare, followed by both of them scurrying up in chase around the campfire.

"Down boy," called Lyndon. "Down!"

Balthier barked back in reply. His leg stretched out to hook the fleeing man's ankle. Lyndon went plummeting down to the ground with a loud yelp of surprise and the most hysterical look Balthier had ever saw accommodating him.

"Okay. Okay. I get it," Lyndon said while gasping for air. He fished in his bag for his flask and took a long drink from it.. "You're a cruel monster that would break a friend's ankle if needed."

The Demon Hunter took a seat across from him, winded from the chase. Laughter bellowed from him in a way he never thought was possible. The joy he had lost as a child seemed to have finally returned to him, and it was all thanks to one woman - the only one who truly understood him- for bring it out.

The high he felt from laughter wore off when the mood became somber. Lyndon's eyes gazed in an empty stare into the fire. Balthier knew exactly what he was thinking: what would they find when they arrived at Kingsport? Blood and a lot of death was Balthier's answer.

"What role do you think Storm is playing in all of this?" The question, spoken in a monotone, barely registered in the Demon Hunter's ears. He regarded Lyndon - who was staring him, eyes glowing from the fire - with a brow arched.

Balthier's automatic response was: "What do you mean?"

"Don't you think its a bit weird that she just shows up out of the blue with so much information about one particular demon that might have ties with Diablo?"

A strain in his heart made Balthier quickly defend his love. "And a scoundrel just up and following me wasn't?" he retorted.

"I liked you, and so I followed you off on some grim quest slaying demons." He tried to keep his tone light, but the dark suggestive in his voice lingered. "But seriously, don't you find it a bit odd that she just shows up with all this knowledge about some random demon that has a cult establishing itself in Kingsport? Everything seems to fit too perfect, and it makes me wonder"

"Wonder what?" the Demon Hunter questioned with only the slightest hitch.

"If this does have something to do with Diablo, how do you know it's not some trap to lure us away from his greater plan? How can be certain she's not some kind of pawn in some bigger game?"

"She's not!" Balthier bolted up, fist clenched. His eyes set hard on Lyndon face with enough intensity to kill the man where he sat. The Demon Hunter could feel his heart constricting in his chest. She wouldn't do anything like that, not after all we've been through - would she? It was at that moment that he realized just how little he truly knew her.

"You're quick to take up for her, aren't you?" There was something suggestive in the Scoundrel's voice, something that made Balthier feel apprehensive. "Almost as if you're in lo-"

Shuffling in the woods caught both of their attention. Balthier froze in a brief moment of apprehension until the form of his beautiful woman came into view with something bundled in her arms. Instantly, his heart started to pound and his eyes fluttered partially closed. The reaction he received from her was priceless: a startled, baffled look that quickly changed into a heartwarming smile, accompanied by a rosy tint on her cheeks. There was no doubt in his mind that he truly was in love with her.

"Where the hell have you been?" Lyndon barked at her.

"I found a nice little treat for us while I was out," she said.

She set beside the Demon Hunter and poured the contents in her arms onto her lap. A bundle of delicious ripe blackberries scattered from her arms. Balthier took one and casually popped it into his mouth. A river of sweet juice washed down his throat, followed by bitter tartness that he actually enjoyed. He smirked at the beauty beside, a wicked grin that rewarded him with a pleasurable shiver.

"How did you know blackberries were my favorite?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Just a guess."

"Gimme some!" Lyndon demanded.

"You don't deserve any!" Storm snapped

While those two bickered about the berries, Balthier took the meat off the fire. He divided it evenly between the three, using flat stones Lyndon had found for plates. As a solution to the berry problem, he confiscated them all for himself then proceeded to eat them in front of his scowling friends, a wicked grin wide across his face.

After dinner, Balthier laid back in the grass. Lyndon was already snoring on the other side of the camp, sound asleep, and Storm was no where to be found, leaving the Demon Hunter all alone to stare up at the stars. He felt so small compare to them, almost as if he was just a grain of sand in the desert. A weary sigh left his lips as he closed his eyes. His muscles tensed with worry about what awaited him in Kingsport. Did Diablo wait for him there? Or was Lyndon right? Was they truly just walking into another trap? A tide of uncertainty sought to sweep him under into the abyss.

Then Storm was there by his side. She cradled his head, combed the raven locks away from his face, and kissed him. When he went to speak, she pressed a finger firmly against his lips. And so, they laid there among the stars together in pure silence. Balthier brushed his thumb across Storm's hand, taking comfort in her warmth. While he still felt that everything between them was too hasty, he couldn't deny that she made him feel complete. He didn't know exactly what it was, but something made him feel like he'd known the woman beside him for all his life.

Most of the night, they laid there, embracing each other. His hands were all over her while their eyes spoke to one another in silence. Their souls bonded together as they laid in each other arms until sleep finally claimed them. Balthier slowly drifted off to the void a happy man. Let Zelken do his worse. He'll eventually drown in his miserable fate.

"Tell me of the renegades' plans, mortal, and I might have mercy on you!"

Another lash against Zelken's back tore the hide from his flesh. No longer able to cry out his anguish, he gritted in agony, a low groan escaping his cracked lips. After nearly two days of torture by Diablo, he was left hoarse from the constant screaming. Blood coated his back, and new wounds slowly turned into scars, adding to the collection of the ones he already had.

"No," he managed to choke out. "I … won't let you …"

His reward for his defiance was a slash against his back from a molten-tipped blade. The agony he was subjected to was mind numbing, barely registering it all at once. It felt as though little barbs wedged themselves down into his flesh to unleash currents of hellfire into his veins, charring him from the inside out. He was at his breaking point, but he refused to put his allies in danger. They deserved a chance at peace.

"Never," he said. "I'll… never tell you."

"Is your life so worthless, human, that you will forfeit it for traitors?"

"They deserve hope," Zeken answered. "They deserve a chance at harmony."

That's all him and Lycia could dream of: a day where angels and demons could live in harmony among mankind without conflict, or at least, this Eternal Conflict.

"They seek their death," the Lord of Terror sneered. "Are you so foolish to believe that the Archangels will accept the demons? They will vanquish them as I have vanquish angels."

"Still, we hope..."

"Your hope dies."

Zelken braced himself for a flurry of strikes, but none came. He opened one eye partially to glance up to the Lord of Terror, briefly hoping that - somehow - he would show just an ounce of mercy. He wished dearly he'd never opened his eye, for Diablo would torture him in an entirely different way. One that would break him completely.

Nestled in the claws of the Demon Lord's hand, rested a bloody mass of muscles that Zelken could identify as a heart, twisted to beat from demonic magic. Zelken's own heart felt like an icy sword had pierced it. His breath grew ragged as his emotions unraveled into a contorted heap of tangled thoughts. Tears welled in his eyes, and he finally found the strength to cry out that loud scream of anguish building up in his chest.

"Leina…"

A smug grin flashed across Diablo's face. He tossed the vital organ to the ground, just barely out of reach of the chained man. "Have fun with your reunion," he said.

Zelken gaze snapped onto his daughter's meek heart, graceful to the tears that blurred most of his view. Footsteps grew distant down the hallways as Diablo retreated off from the chamber. He was left all alone. Alone, with his daughter's twisted heart to keep him company.

"Leina …forgive me," he whispered.

He adverted his eyes from the sight and sunk to his knees. Happiness seemed to be something that was always fleeting to him. He gained a little only to suffer a lot. If only he could have a small taste of his one wish before he died - to be with Lycia and Leina again - then he could die a happy man. Sadly, the only thing left of his once beloved daughter was the mass of muscles in front of him. That, and Lycia no longer seemed to care about her husband's feelings for her. He had lost all the light to his dark world.

"Daddy?" a childish voice called. "Are you sad, daddy?"

Yes, I'm sad. Everything that once made me happy is slowly deteriorating in front of me. And yet … I still hope.

"Please don't cry, daddy."

A faint light, a dim glow that barely caught Zelken's attention, shimmered in front of him, prying his gaze away from the stone floor. Air was denied to his lungs as his breath caught in full shock, mouth gaping open, his heart a beating war drum. Bittersweet happiness drenched him in something so profound that it rivaled that of honey. It felt like a dream to him as he stared at the lilac doll in front of him. Everything about her from her snow white hair that flowed to her waist in flawless curls to her eyes which captured the radiance of the moonlight - everything was the same.

"Leina," he whispered. But how?

"Papa, that bad man wants to hurt momma!"

"What?"

"He wants momma! Please, you gotta stop him!"

Zelken was taken aback when she ran to embrace him and even shocked when the little spirit could actually touch him. She wasn't dead then, he thought with a bittersweet smile as he nuzzled her cheek. She's just not whole.

There were so many questions he wanted to ask her but that would come later. Right now, he was both content with seeing her and anxious to get out. A small plan beginned to form in his head, one that he desperately needed his daughter's help to achieve.

"Look at me," he said. "Can you get me out of these chains?"

"I think so."

"Then do it, and hurry!"

Quickly, she began fiddling with his shackles while Zelken prayed to every god he knew for mercy. A few tugs and jerks later, she gave up, completely exhausted from exerting so much energy. Zelken sighed in hopelessness. They needed to get out before Diablo returned with a even severer punishment.

"Leina, do you remember that spell I taught you?"

She blinked at him, obviously trying to recall the fire spell he taught her twenty years ago. "I think I do… Why?"

"Try using it on the chain links."

"I'll try…" It was clear in her voice that she was uncertain of her ability.

Zelken gave her a reassuring smile to strengthen her resolve. She gave it back twice as strong before closing her eyes and focusing on her inner power. Zelken's heart swelled in pride. My strong little girl. How I love you.

Delicately, she placed a hand, surrounded in a purple aura, onto the chain and began channeling her demonic energy into the metal, melting it. It gave away to one strong yank, freeing Zelken's hand to undo the other one. He rose to his feet, albeit unsteady, but wasted no time in gathering Leina's heart off the floor and grabbing her by the wrist.

"We need to get out of here," he said. "Come on!"

The chamber they were in was almost pitch black besides two dimly lit torches marking the doorway. There were no windows to the outside world, and Zelken was far too weak to teleport to safety or even run. He wasn't even sure if he could cast a simple Shadowbolt without fainting. He peeped out the side of the door for any guards. With none in sight, he slipped through with Leina close at his side. They ghosted around to a corner where they hid in a recess in the wall.

Leina made a series of muffled giggles. "Daddy," she said, blushing. "You're naked."

"Yeah. What happens when you're tortured."

He peered around the corner just in time to catch a glimpse of a crimson spiked tail retreating across the hall. A curse slipped through his lips in frustration. Diablo was heading to his cell.

"We're going to have to teleport out of here before the cavalry comes," he said more to himself then the little girl beside him.

"Don't hurt yourself!"

He turned around to give her another reassuring smile. "Don't worry," he said. "I've been hurt much more than this." And he had. By watching her suffer, he had been dragged through hell a million times. Nothing could stand in comparison.

"No, you can't!" she protested. "What if you die on me?"

Unfortunately, that was one of the many things that could happen if he attempted a spell he didn't have the strength for. But dying of a heart attack really seemed like the better option at the moment compare to being caught and tortured once again.

His thumb brushed over the back of her small hand that was clutched on tightly to his as he gave her a tight smile. "Leina, don't worry about me. Everything is going to be alright." At least I hope so.

Still, he had no reason to be reckless with his magic, and teleporting more than just a few meters away was something he never had attempting before. He firmly placed his hand on the stones of the walls and radiated a small amount of arcane magic through the cracks. By reading the vibrations and time it took for them to return, he learned two thing: one, that walls were very thick, and two, they were underground. Using his warp ability here wouldn't get them very far, meaning he would have to search for a place with thinner walls and, ideally, above ground.

"Stay here," he whispered to his daughter before sliding to the corner of the wall.

"Don't go too far," she said. "I can't be too far away from my heart."

"I'm not," he reassured her.

He glanced out into the hall and instantly retreated back into the recess when he saw three demons heading in their direction. Hs back pressed against the wall as far as he could while he held Leina nearby with a hand firmly placed around her mouth. The demons walked right by their hiding spot without even glancing, gracing Zelken to let out a sigh of relief.

"This isn't good," he whispered to himself. "Guards are going to be everywhere."

"What are we gonna do, papa?"

Zelken contemplated the situation briefly until a green oozing substance dripped on him from the ceiling. The hair on the back of his neck stood straight up as he slowly looked up at the sludge covered demon lurking from above. It gazed back, its green beady eyes cutting sharp through Zelken's skin, while muck seeped through its ravenous fangs. The Warlock took a few small steps back, too stunned from fear to react.

"Run," he said, then bolted out into the hallway.

Will Zelken escape? Is Storm actually in love with Balthier? Will Lyndon ever change? Find out next time on Dragonba- ... okay that was lame ...