Author's Notes: First short chapter (even by my standards) in a while with this one, but I hope you enjoy it all the same.

Chapter 21: Blue and White

Serving as the Subaltern of Etria, Quinn has grown quite used to hearing strange reports regarding the labyrinth, but in the time he has served his town, he has yet to hear of an adventurer being inducted into the military of a monster. His surprise was shared by just about everyone in the meeting room, including Lord Visil. Despite the outlandish nature of Cyrus' report, the meeting members patiently waited for him to finish before planning their next course of action.

Closing his rather lengthy report, Cyrus notes, "I imagine the ants have a strong hold of the eleventh and twelfth floors; we'll need detailed maps to help adventurers traverse without meeting undue opposition."

Visil grunts to acknowledge this and asks, "Do you already have a plan in mind to confront this issue?"

"Indeed. Since I'll be assisting this ant queen, I can map out both floors without worry of facing the ants."

Ren asks, "What do you plan to do about the other creatures that dwell within?"

"Part of the queen's request is to face those beasts in combat to learn their strategies and weaknesses. I can handle that much and I'll even gather intel on the ants when they engage in combat."

Understandably, Quinn was concerned for the Alchemist's safety. "With all due respect, it's dangerous to go alone, Cyrus."

"I agree, which is why Lissa shall accompany me."

"We're up to the task, sir; we won't fail."

Lord Visil quietly deliberates on the duo's proposal. 'As capable as their guild may be, all children have their limits.' He scans his eyes to study the two, noting the fearless look in their eyes. 'The Alchemist has seen a great deal of strife; that much I can tell. His Survivalist is no novice, either. Perhaps…' The idea finally shapes in his mind, to which he nods and clears his throat. "Very well, I shall entrust this task to you both, but I will send guards to be stationed around the stratum."

"Better safe than sorry," Cyrus says with a nod, "I can understand that." Standing up, he and Lissa bow to Lord Visil and Quinn before Cyrus concludes, "We'll see that the task is done, sir; by your leave, we shall get started with haste."

Lord Visil nods to this and dismisses the two, along with the Subaltern. Once they're gone, he turns his attention to Ren and Tlachtga, who were patiently awaiting their orders. "I would like for you both to continue monitoring this guild."

The two stand to bow; Ren asks, "Do you believe they are the ones?"

"I cannot rightfully say as of yet, but given a bit more time, they could amass enough strength."

The duo nods to his assessment and departs from the Radha Hall. Deciding that they, too, would head into the labyrinth, Ren suggests that Shilleka's Shop be their first destination. Tlachtga doesn't object, so they set off towards the establishment. They arrive in time to see Cyrus stab a sword forward and promptly fall to one knee as he clutches his right arm in pain. Surprisingly, he doesn't drop the sword, suggesting that his arm has healed somewhat, or he has developed an incredible resistance to the pain he feels.

Feeling the pain subside, Cyrus places the sword in his left hand and picks himself up. He returns the sword to its scabbard and hands it to Shilleka. "It's a fine blade, Shilleka; I'd expect nothing less from you at this point."

"Aw, t'anks, but how's your arm? Ya looked like ya were in real agony t'er."

"I'll be alright; I was kinda hoping my arm had healed by now, but no such luck." He hands Shilleka a bag of ental, which she takes before offering him the sword again. He straps it to his right hip and says, "I have some personal adjustments to make before I dive into the labyrinth, but this craft shall serve me well. I thank you."

"Don't mention it, but if ya don't mind my asking…" He motions for her to continue, a smile on his face, "What kind of adjustments are we talkin' here?"

"Some simple things where I'm from; I have to inscribe some runic patterns into the blade and then bathe it in green flame…probably black too."

Ren, Tlachtga, and Shilleka tilt their heads inquisitively at this. Though she opted to quietly observe this conversation, Ren's curiosity compels her to ask, "Is there something special about those types of flames?"

Turning his head to face her, Cyrus says, "Ah, hello you two; I didn't notice you there. Both flames have special properties when it comes to forging. A green flame tempers the aether within a medium, making it easier for that medium to channel magic or, in the case of this sword, have magic channeled through it. Black flames temper the soul and have similar effects as the green flame, but it takes a lot of practice to avoid injuring the soul you're trying to strengthen."

"Wait just a tic; are ya sayin' t'at weapons have souls?"

"Indeed, as does armor. Actually, a lot of surprising things have souls, like boulders. That one caught me by surprise."

Shilleka remains curious, if a bit skeptical. "How do ya figure t'at?"

"The general rule of my world is: If it has a soul, I can communicate with it."

Despite being intrigued by what Cyrus had to say, Tlachtga's remark is delivered in her usual monotone. "You must live a very strange life."

That gets a chuckle out of Cyrus, who simply scratches at his chin and replies, "That's one word for it." Turning to Shilleka, he says, "I'll have to show you how the tempering works at a later date. Admittedly, I'm not even sure if I can make it work here in your world."

"I sure hope ya figure it out; it sounds like a lot of fun!"

He gives one last nod to the three ladies before departing from the shop. Upon entering the Archive, Lissa tosses him a medium sized bag that feels somewhat heavy. He gives the bag a light shake, trying to ascertain its contents. Lissa takes the fun away from this by saying, "Those are Grimoire Stones from Hilda." Seeing the sword strapped to his hip, she says, "I see you got what you needed…does that mean your arm hasn't healed?"

He simply shakes his head to this. "I can keep a solid grasp on a weapon, but fighting with this arm is still out of the question." Rosa steps into view and bows to Cyrus, sending a cheerful greeting his way. "Just the woman I wanted to see; is our forge free right now, Madame Rosa?"

"Yes it is, young master. Do you require any tools to be prepared in advance?"

"No, that is quite alright, but if it isn't too much trouble, could you set up the Synthesis equipment in roughly an hour? I have some experiments to run."

"It's no trouble at all. Please remember to pace yourself as you work; it simply wouldn't do to have you collapse from exhaustion. Madame Lucy and Madame Lissa would be none too pleased if such a thing were to befall you."

Cyrus nods and thanks Rosa for her concern while Lissa hides the quickly deepening blush on her face with her trusty scarf. Knowing that Cyrus was about to turn towards her to make a snarky comment, Lissa decides to intercept him and asks, "Do you think you can make a new Grimoire Stone for me as well? I'll have the list of skills I want on it by the time you're done."

"Sure thing."

An hour passes, but Cyrus does not emerge from the forge. Lissa opts to check in on him, finding that the Alchemist is still hard at work, currently breathing green flames onto the blade of his new sword. Surprised by this, Lissa asks, "You can breathe fire?"

Ceasing his fire-breathing, Cyrus starts taking his hammer to the blade, which Lissa quickly realizes has runic patterns engraved in it. "It's limited to forging purposes, I'm afraid. Doing so is very draining; I honestly have no idea how dragons do this on a regular basis." Satisfied with his short work, he sets the hammer down for a moment. He takes a towel to wipe the sweat from his forehead, as well as his shoulders.

Lissa was too distracted with Cyrus' fire-breathing to notice before, but she sees that he's not wearing a shirt. 'I don't blame him; it's hot as Hell in here.' Taking another look at him reveals that Cyrus has more scars than he let on. In addition to the long scar stretching diagonally across his chest, there was also a trio of parallel scars on his back. They were faded and looked like they were caused by the claw of a large beast. "You had more than I thought…"

Realizing what Lissa is referring to, Cyrus points a thumb at his back and asks, "What, you mean these old things? I got these when I was but a lad in the single digits."

"What?! What were you getting yourself into?"

"A friend and I were looking out at a lake when a lynx came out of nowhere and attacked. I tried to shield her on instinct, failing to remember that she's a lot tougher than I was at the time and could have punched or kicked the beast right into next week." He runs a hand through his hair and lets out a sigh. "Actually, she's still tougher than I am. One punch from her can disintegrate a person."

Lissa's response is a flatly delivered "What." Cyrus laughs at her bluntly delivered response, laughing even harder after seeing the exasperated look on her face. "I guess no one gets on her bad side often, huh?"

"I make her mad for sport, actually."

"How are you even alive?!"

"She acts like she hates me, but that's really all it is."

"So…what, you two pretend to be spiteful towards each other in public but are best friends when you get some alone time?"

"Eh…" He rubs the back of his neck as he looks to the floor. "It is as you say."

"You are impossible to figure out, you know that?"

"I get that a lot, yes."

"So are you some kind of playboy or do you just have a harem?" She takes a minute to think on that and then asks, "Wouldn't those be the same thing anyway?"

"No, no, and no."

She sighs. "I had a feeli- wait, what?"

"I have no idea why you're surprised by this." A soft smile forms on his face as he sighs and walks over to his blade. A strange silence befalls him and Lissa as he puts his sword back together. Taking up the weapon, Cyrus looks over the sword before closing his eyes and focusing. For a moment, nothing happens, but then a visible icy blue wind swirls around the blade. Lissa's eyes widen at this, with her surprise growing as the wind dissipates and is replaced by sparks of electricity.

"Nice going there, Cyrus. Hey, you think you can channel the Light Formula into that too?" He glances at her, expressing surprise and interest at her suggestion. He channels aether into the blade and it dons a translucent glow, one that is barely noticeable. For reassurance, Cyrus channels aether into his blade one more time, turning it pink. "Ooh, looks like all of your spells work."

"Indeed. Things are going to pick up for us, Lissa; you won't have to bear as much of our exploration burden any longer, my dear."

She watches as the Alchemist returns his newly forged sword to its scabbard, a telling smirk forming on his face. "Cyrus, for the small amount of battles we engage in, you contribute a lot more than you give yourself credit for. I'm never worried with you backing me up."

"Most fortuitous, as I feel the same about you."

She turns away from him to hide the blush on her face. "Do you do this to me on purpose?"

"Do what?" His stupid question is met with his shirt being tossed at his face, hitting him with the softest of thuds. He removes the shirt from his vision quickly enough to see Lissa's blushing face as she closes her eyes, sticks her tongue out at him, and walks out of the forge. Despite knowing how bad of an idea this is, he shouts to her, "You know, this is just another reason why people think you're a child!"

His foolish remark is met rather quickly, but not with the ire or snark he expected from his comrade. Lissa merely stands in the doorway and smiles sweetly at him. Her eyes are closed, but Cyrus imagines that they are currently burning with rage. Her reply is brief, sweet in its delivery, but nothing of the sort in its meaning. "I'll remember that, Cyrus." She then walks away, leaving Cyrus no chance to reply.

Another hour passes before the duo finds itself exploring the new stratum, which the Radha has opted to dub "The Azure Rainforest". The hue of twilight was already upon the land before Cyrus and Lissa had made their descent, but the thought of how dark it would soon be caused the Alchemist to look up at the ceiling of the eleventh floor. It was slightly dark but mostly clear, save for a few clouds hovering overhead. "Huh, would you look at tha-" then the reality dawned upon him; "How in the Seven Hells are there clouds down here?"

"I'm pretty sure the labyrinth doesn't descend directly downwards; it has to go at some sort of slope. Those stairs would defy physics otherwise."

"That much I agree with, but given how far underground we should be by now, I have to wonder if some Eldritch force isn't at work."

"Can't fault you there; this place is all sorts of strange. Those visions you had don't help its case either."

"I wonder if that was a premonition of a stratum to come."

"If it is, I hope it's the last one, because it sounds awful."

Their exploration goes unimpeded by the ants, just as Cyrus anticipated. The other denizens of the floor, such as the giant worms, bats, and the occasional giant frogs, however, were not as amiable. After slaying another pair of frogs, Cyrus reloads the vials in his gauntlet and turns to Lissa. "Thank the gods you're here; these damnable frogs would have turned me into a pancake by now."

"Disabling Shot is a pretty damn useful skill. I kind of wish I could use the same skills as those Snipers from Tharsis though."

"You could learn them someday, but for now you're one of the best dodge-centric tanks I've ever met."

"Do you always use terms from role-playing games?"

"I do, but that's a legitimate occupation in my world, common amongst the Ninja who live in the east."

"I can't imagine a Protector doing that…"

"Oh man, if only I could introduce you to Leslie; she's a Paladin who dances around her provoked targets. She looks phenomenal as she does so too."

"Sounds like you're a fan."

"It's tough to claim otherwise; I never imagined she and I would become as close as we are now."

"That makes two of us; you and I get along pretty well too. I was expecting us to be at each other's throats since I normally can't stand reckless people."

"What makes me so special?"

"I found out why you're so reckless." She frowns and points an accusatory finger at him. Her leering gaze instills a nervousness in Cyrus that he'd rather not admit. "That doesn't mean I approve of your behavior, mind. I just…" then she shifts her expression to one of concern, of sadness and sympathy. "I want to see you happy; you deserve better than the fake smiles you're so accustomed to making."

"Oh come on, they can't be that obvi-"

"Yes, yes they are." She sighs and suddenly looks towards the ground; she could feel her cheeks getting hotter as she pushes the tips of her fingers together. "I suppose…my intentions aren't entirely selfless." She looks back up to him. "I want you to be happy, please don't misunderstand that, but I think what I want even more than that is to be the one who makes you happy."

"Elizabeth, I can scarcely think of a time where I've been as happy as I am right now. The more I adventure with you, the less I desire to go home." Strangely, a look of guilt suddenly plagues his face; it catches Lissa off guard, almost as much as Cyrus calling her by her given name. "I don't think I'm worth that kind of trouble though; Hell, what bothers me even more than that is how I'd never be able to return the favor."

Lissa raises an eyebrow to this. Cyrus' words struck her as nonsensical, as if he hasn't been paying attention to all of the good he and the guild have done for Etria. "Do you honestly believe that? Why?"

"I don't improve lives, Lissa; I end them…that is the purpose my power serves."

"Well that's a load of shit." Cyrus recoils at her shift in tone. "Good things can come from destructive force. Look at Etria; countless lives have been saved because Fenrir and Cernunnos are gone. If you'll recall, the only reason my two best friends and I are alive right now is because you and Lily saved us, which required you to kill that Reaping Shade."

Cyrus opens his mouth to speak, but the words evade him, causing him to close it and break eye contact to gather his thoughts. "You're right, that much I can't dispute…and yet…"

"You're a good man, Cyrus; you don't deserve this hatred you harbor towards yourself."

"I kill people, Elizabeth; good men don't do such things."

"Horrible men don't feel the shame and regret that you do. I don't care how often you say otherwise; I'll still stand by your side. I just hope that I can change your mind before the time comes where we must part ways. I don't have it in me to let you walk out of my life the same way you walked in."

"Why go so far for me?"

For some reason, that question gets a giggle out of Lissa. She simply shakes her head at his inquiry before walking up to him. She places both of her hands upon his chest for leverage as she steps on the tips of her boots to plant a soft kiss upon his lips. She returns to standing properly and opts to rest her head against his chest.

"You're pretty dense, Cyrus, but that's fine. Since you don't get hints I'll just tell you: You're worth Hell…or in your case, you're worth all seven of them. Seriously, why does your world need seven Hells?"

To Lissa's surprise, Cyrus wraps his arms around her and pulls her closer to him. His actions were slow and gentle; she could have sworn she also felt him tremble slightly. Why Cyrus would tremble, however, Lissa hadn't a clue. "I don't know what I did to deserve this, but I'll be sure to work to earn it."

'You're implying that you haven't already.' She sighs and pushes away from him, despite desiring the opposite. "You really are dense. Let's get moving before this moment between us becomes comedic."

"Sure thing; I just need to make a report to the nearest sentry." He takes a brief look at the map and discerns the quickest route to the nearby post of two ant sentries. He motions for Lissa to follow as he begins walking. "This way."

As Lissa watches the Alchemist walk away a sigh escapes her. She lightly brings her palm to her face and says, "You sure can pick 'em, Lissa."