War of the Crystals

by mythweaver1

FFIV. Rydia-centric. Another time and place have prepared Rydia for war, and amidst a plot of treachery, greed, and destruction, she has returned to help Cecil turn the tide. While the war rages through towers, over oceans, and underground; five companions learn to trust each other in the face of utter ruin. Even when their worst enemy is themselves. Novelization/Adaptation

26. One Does Not Simply Walk Into

A/N:

Those of you braving out Super Storm Sandy—please stay safe! D:

On to this chapter? I am tackling ALL the sidequests. Yes. You heard me correctly.

I blame any and all strangeness on an overabundance of allergy meds...speaking of which—I took EXTREME liberties with this chapter. I've been warning of this, but yes. EXTREME. You'll see when you get there ;)

Also, on my profile you will find a holiday fic-a-thon prompt list. I have yet to set a deadline for it, but loose estimates are anywhere between Thanksgiving and New Years. You can treat it as a challenge or a fic exchange. CHECK IT OUT. WRITE FIC.

Oh muh goodness, you guys. I had a revelation while writing this chapter. Diana Ross' "Ain't No Mountain High Enough" is hilariously appropriate for the relationship Rydia has with her Eidolons XP No lie, an entire evening was spent rolling on the floor blasting this song, hehe. Well...er...aside from the "lovin" aspects XP AHHHH NOW IV HAS BECOME A TERRIBLE 70'S MUSICAL IN MY MIIIIND. LEISURE SUITS. NOOOO!

Any and all LoTR references have quite a lot to do with me being overly excited for the Hobbit this winter :D

Did a little research for this chapter...and then...magic trumped science. Oh, fic.

This chapter might need to be read in a few sittings...it kind of...ran away from me at the end...uh...have a happy 20k? And the timing on this...odd. Haha. This makes TWO updates in one month! TWO. (I expect there to be some grammar issues spattered throughout...apologies in advance)

Thanks for reading, everyone! Our cliff-hanger continues!

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

One Does Not Simply Walk Into...

Rydia's eyes swept over the ghost king, at the spear he held balanced in his hand, and at the scimitar that hung at his waist, hearkening to the crescent moon.

"Odin—" Rosa choked out. "How can you—an Eidolon?"

"One does not strike down the king of Baron in cold blood and not expect the spirits to lodge complaint. I have transcended unto the immortal realm," he replied, his voice low and rasping.

"Does that mean he hath transcended to immortal speech, too?" Edge whispered to Rydia, leaning toward her.

"Rydia?" Rosa asked, staring at her wide-eyed.

Rydia shook her head, similarly stunned.

"I thought the Eidolons were born in another age," Cecil said numbly, staring at the king on his eight-legged horse.

"Brandish your weapons," Odin repeated, tightening his grip on the reins of his steed.

"Your majesty, I can't possibly—" Cecil objected.

"Move!" Edge shouted, pushing Rosa out of the way of the king's spear hurtling through the air. It was ten feet in length, it's tip double pronged with glowing runes. It embedded itself into one of the catacomb pillars, shattering stone and wobbling.

None of them had hardly any time to react before the king's steed charged forward. Rydia bolted to one side, but the king's gauntlet caught her, hitting her hard on the shoulder, and sending her lurching into the aisle behind her.

She stumbled to the floor, bracing herself with her hands with a gasped exhale.

A challenge with an Eidolon? Here?

She scrambled to her feet, and saw everyone else had scattered between pillars and funerary slabs in an effort to escape the king's reach.

The horse reared and whirled on its haunches, the spear once more in Odin's hand. The king's pin prick eyes caught Rydia's from beneath his horned helm, and she turned to run down the length of the aisle to escape him. She could hear the hooves pounding on stone behind her as the king gave pursuit, and ducked behind a pillar just in time to avoid the spear as it was thrown again. It caught the hem of her robe, singing fabric before embedding into a slab beside her. The stone sarcophagus rattled as the likeness of a former noble was jarred from its resting place, and she glanced down and saw the sizzle of magic as it crept along the fibers of her borrowed robe.

Wide-eyed, Rydia crawled behind an adjacent sarcophagus, and heard the horse's nostrils sniff the air for her scent. She stilled her own breathing, hoping to escape notice. She was no match for this Eidolon with any weapon she possessed, but she had magic. The incantation for Thundaga jumped to the front of her thoughts, but she knew that to chant would reveal her hiding place.

Instead, she closed her eyes and waited. She heard crumbled stone fall to dust on the floor as the spear was retrieved from the slab behind her, and she opened her eyes, preparing to spring.

A grunt was followed by another shower of rock as the sarcophagus she was leaning against was violently extruded by the spear tip. Rydia cried out, surprised, and rolled to her feet, running again. She dodged slab after slab, zig zagging in and out of pillars as the crypt continued to sprawl out before her. How many dead were housed here, she wondered, as her breath burned in her lungs.

She ran until she couldn't hear hooves, and to where the torches had ceased being lit. She turned, and realized the king had given up his pursuit, having gone in search of other quarry. Her eyes surveyed the vaulted corridor, and she saw that he had remained in the main chamber where his horse had enough room to maneuver. She could hear the sound of metal striking metal, but above that, she heard the steed's unnatural cry. She crept back the way she'd come, slowly retracing her steps so that she was closer to her friends, but out of the king's line of sight.

Odin, she turned the name over in her mind. The name, or rather the story, sounded familiar to her. She sifted through memories as if she were turning through the pages of a book, and the story slowly came to light. An ancient king who rode Sleipnir, an eight-legged horse—he had been bested when lightning struck his blade. It was strange, she heard Leviathan's voice in her ear as if he were telling her the story himself. This was what he had mentioned the last time they were in the Feymarch.

She crept closer to the former king of Baron, and wondered if the same Odin her friends had known as a father, was the very same as the long-ago king. There remained a glaring problem, as she looked on. Which blade was meant to be struck? The spear—or the scimitar?

Rydia finally drew close enough to the main chamber to see what was happening in detail. Edge was striking from the shadows, precise and swift; ducking in and out of pillars on the same side of the aisle as herself. Normally, Edge's efforts might have been laudable, but to the king, the ninja was merely obnoxious, as shuriken ricocheted off of his armor. Odin responded by thrusting his spear into the recesses between pillars at random, smashing stone and sending up dust in the hope of removing Edge as an annoyance.

Rydia smiled, knowing that Odin would have a hard time of that. Edge was too good at being obnoxious on and off the battlefield.

She slunk to the side and peered around another pillar, planning her next move. Thundaga she thought, preparing herself for where to direct its power. Where was the king's armor weakest—she wondered, and then ducked frantically when an errant arrow from the opposite side of the hall glanced the king's side and skittered wildly to Rydia's hiding place. She felt the arrow tip slice the fabric of her sleeve as she pressed herself to the granite pillar. She glanced around the pillar once more and saw a glimpse of Rosa's shimmering robe before it vanished into the shadows opposite her. Odin's attention was turned from Edge and to the source of the failed attack—toward Cecil and Rosa.

Rydia began to chant, keeping her eyes fixed on the king. She spoke the words of power, gathering the magic to herself like a warm cloak. The melody was frantic, erratic. Words were tumbling from her mouth faster than she could think them—they were so automatic—when the king vanished. He was all but a flicker, a shimmer of light, and then he was gone. Rydia's melody was ruined, the rhythm broken with her concentration, as she waited with the last words poised on her tongue.

Where was he?

There was a disturbance farther down the hall, and an explosion of shattered rock and a resounding boom that accompanied it. The king reappeared farther down the chamber with his scimitar held in one hand and his spear in the other. A wide perimeter of smashed sarcophagi and defaced pillars surrounded him. If the bodies within the tombs had been living, the carnage would have been devastating. As it was, bones and raiments of burial shrouds littered the stone floor. The horse reared and turned, head thrashing wildly, while Odin readied himself for another attack, tossing his spear so that it rested better in the palm of his hand.

What was that attack? Rydia glanced down her own aisle and saw Edge running toward her, covered in dust.

"Are you alright?" she asked when he drew closer.

He sped past her, pulling her up and with him in the process. "Leave no ground to run to," he explained in a rush. She looked over her shoulder and saw Odin's horse galloping toward them.

"What did you do?" Rydia demanded.

"Distracted him," he replied tersely, dragging her along.

Rydia began to chant again, noting with concern that Edge was leaving a trail of blood droplets behind him. His arm was bleeding from several gashes, no doubt from when the stone had shattered and been propelled through the air. She couldn't dwell on it. She was trying to reclaim the rhythm she had lost, words whose meanings were as near to her as they were foreign. She began to see the spell take shape in her mind, threads of magic aligning and vibrating in just the right sequence, a hum of magic ripe on the air; but just as it was nearing completion, an intense surge of pressure swept past her. Rydia felt herself thrown from her feet, flipped through the air, and her arm wrenched free of Edge's. She hit the floor with enough force to hear something crack, but was too numb to know if it was her own bones that had broken or the stone.

The world stood still and upside down. Sounds collided with each other and dust coated her eyelashes. When her vision ceased showing her doubles, she sat up, her ears still ringing.

As she twisted around, she saw hopped to his feet and slid his katanas free of their sheaths, their blades glinting in the torchlight. It was a strange effect, him standing amidst the dust thrown up from the shattered slabs around them. It seemed as though he belonged there in the haze and half-light, almost a ghost himself in his white robe. Rydia tried to push herself to standing, to understand their precarious situation better, but her arm failed to support her. The bones in her wrist were turned at an unnatural angle, broken by her fall. She cried out, pushing herself toward a pillar with her legs until she could brace herself against it to standing.

Arrows whistled through the air, and the king's horse bucked and reared at the distraction, turning from Edge and his swords. A pair of Rosa's arrows struck the horse's rump, and the animal screeched a sound Rydia was certain no natural horse could utter. The king urged his frenzied horse into a charge, directly toward Rosa's hiding place. Odin twirled his spear in the air around him, the tip of it cutting the air with a whistling hum. He readied himself to throw the spear, when Cecil bolted out from around another pillar at the king's side, hurling his sword at the horse's hind legs. The sword severed the crucial tendons on two of its back legs from hock to fetlock before it skittered across the catacomb floor. The beast stumbled, favoring his wounded legs, and whirled, giving Odin the time to swivel in the saddle and thrust the lance sideways at Cecil. Cecil deflected the mighty spear with his shield, but just barely. The lance left a blackened indentation in the convex surface of the shield, the metal warped despite its diamond studded face. Cecil staggered back, and ducked behind a pillar once more, avoiding another strike from the spear that shredded the rock face of the pillar mere inches away.

Rydia had come to a morbid fascination with the spear in the king's keeping. This was no ordinary weapon wielded by a weapons master, this was a weapon of the gods of old. The Eidolons were not entities who held to the rules of the mortal realm, she reminded herself, nor were the powers they wielded any less impressive than the raw magic from which they were born.

The assault against Cecil was intense and violent, the king's strikes becoming more focused, more precise, as he strung his movements together. Cecil bolted down the side aisle, trying to draw another weapon as he ran. The king was gaining ground and advantage, as the pillars had become fewer and the tombs, obliterated. There were few places for Cecil to run where he had protection from the king's weapon. Another thrust of the spear sent more stone flying, and Cecil rolled, hoisting his shield before him to block another blow.

The strike from the king's weapon was deflected to the side, throwing Cecil off balance, but sparing him from being skewered.

During Cecil's mad dash down the side aisle, Rydia had lost track of Edge, but now she saw him, sprinting down the corridor in the king's blind spot.

What was he doing?

Then Rydia saw the hilt of Cecil's sword plunged into a pile of rubble and saw a plan take shape. Edge's long strides quickly covered ground , and just as he plunged for the sword, grabbing it deftly and rotating the grip on the fly, the king's horse cocked its ears backwards, sensing a threat from behind. The king glanced behind him as well, seeing Edge hurl Cecil's sword like a dart past his horse's withers. The sword dug into the mortar of the wall behind Cecil, but Odin, recognizing Edge as a variable that needed to be dealt with, swept his spear back, capturing the ninja between a wall and a toppled pillar. The spear lanced through Edge's shoulder, black flames eliciting green sparks as he was driven into the wall behind him. From where she stood, Rydia didn't see Edge fall, but she heard the sickening sound of the spear tip scraping stone and flesh upon retrieval. She tried to prevent a mental image from forming.

With Edge removed, the king was free to focus again on Cecil, but another arrow had whistled out of the darkness again, piercing one of the horse's front legs. The horse's leg buckled, and before it could correct its balance, another arrow sang from the shadows, embedding into another of the animal's front legs. The horse went down keening, thrashing its head wildly side to side; the sound causing Rydia to grit her teeth.

Odin was hardly phased by this, and slid from his mount's back with military efficiency. His armored boots clunked heavily on the stone floor, as he faced off with Cecil who had run to free his sword from the wall, carrying only his shield.

The king threw his spear to the ground with a metallic clang, but took up the scimitar, the gleaming arc of its blade bright in the darkness. He raised the blade, his stance widening as he prepared to deliver a decisive blow in close quarters.

Rydia darted forward, and began to chant again, quickly, preserving all of her spell's complex and precise articulation. She drew the crystals' power to herself, feeling her hair rise from the static as the spell formed completion in her mind's eye. Thundaga sizzled through the air, causing a white blaze that illuminated the corridor brighter than the torches ever could. Sparks popped and slid jaggedly from floor to ceiling, a series of bolts arcing along the king's blade and through its grip, up his gauntleted arm, to the spiked pauldrons atop his shoulders. Odin lurched and jerked violently, as the raw energy of the lightning channeled through him into the ground at his feet. With smoking armor, he fell to his knees.

Another well-placed arrow wrenched the scimitar from the king's fingers entirely, and when the light from the spell had faded, the king was as mute as the statue he had once been.

Rydia gracelessly slowed to a stop, and it was several minutes before anyone dared move. Finally the king took in a deep breath and stood, his armor creaking and groaning in protest.

"You have bested me," the king declared in a low voice, bowing his head to Cecil.

Cecil was shocked. Rydia was shocked. One spell to take down such a fearsome Eidolon?

"You have found allies true and sound," the king continued. "Often have I wondered what man you would become. I am pleased to see a man who shed his darkness for that of the light. These times require a torch to be shone upon them, and you are fully suited for this task. Henceforth you shall be recognized as the successor of my line, and heir to the throne of Baron."

Cecil bowed clumsily before his former king. "Your majesty, I am humbled."

"And you," he said, turning to Rydia, who had stumbled closer. "To you, I grant my name. Your voice I will heed, should you e'er require my aide."

Rydia bowed her head, sensing herself being imparted with his true name, a brief hum of magic that tingled her senses before it left only an impression on her subconscious mind.

"I must leave you now," he announced, retrieving his spear, and returning to his horse. "I must return to the sleep my present form demands I take. Fare thee well, my son and fellow warriors. May your swords and deeds strike true in this present darkness."

Odin mounted his steed and hoisted his spear, pointing it toward the heavens. Their injuries were gone, and Odin's armor, untarnished. No sooner had the horse reared, its front legs pawing the air, did the spell of encasement consume them again. From spear tip to hoof, the king and his fearsome horse were turned to stone. Unmoving, unflinching, just as they'd been before.

"I can't believe how lucky you were," Rosa breathed half a second later, running to Cecil and throwing her arms around his neck to kiss his cheek. Almost instantly, she had released him again to rush to the opposite side of the hall. Rydia glanced to where her friend had gone, and saw Edge's still form crumpled against the wall, blood pooling around the gaping wound in his shoulder, seeping to his waist. His head hung across his chest like a limp doll, and from this distance, Rydia couldn't determine whether or not he was breathing.

"Always the risk taker," Rosa muttered as she drew close, clearing dust and debris away from Edge and the wound, her fingers glowing with the light of libra. "Crystals," she murmured again, shaking her head.

Rydia walked closer, feeling apprehension rise. Had he fallen and been down too long to revive? Were the powers imbued in Odin's spear more deadly than she realized?

Cecil distracted her, pulling her aside. Rydia looked up at him, and then questioningly at where his fingers had gripped her forearm above the badly twisted wrist.

"Your wrist," Cecil observed with a frown.

"Your arm," Rydia duly pointed out, nodding to the arm he was holding close to his ribs.

Cecil smiled wanly, and closed his eyes, chanting the soft melody of his own white magic. Rydia watched in astonishment, as she did every time, as her bones and tendons were reset in their proper arrangement; every fiber and sinew being knit back together as if the injury had never happened.

"I love magic," she said appreciatively to Cecil, and then frowned at his arm. "Did you break it when you took that blow to your shield?"

Cecil looked down, and shrugged with a heavy sigh. "Bruised but not broken."

"At least we know Kokkol can make a good shield," Rydia replied, looking over her shoulder again at where Rosa was helping Edge.

"He's been down a while," Cecil observed, stepping past Rydia to where Rosa was kneeling beside their companion, chanting.

Rydia listened to the words her friend was saying, at the steady rhythm. It was calm, soothing, like a lullaby, and so different from her own frenetic spell casting, that rose and fell with innumerous tempos and rhythms. She hadn't thought of magic quite this way before her conversation with Edge in Mysidia, and now she watched him, hoping he might wake up again so they could continue their conversation.

Rosa's spell was lengthy, and though Edge's chest had begun to rise and fall in shallow breaths, he had yet to regain consciousness. Rydia knelt down beside Rosa, her hands gripping the skirt of her robes. What was taking so long?

"There was a rumor that the first king of Baron wielded a spear named Gungnir," Cecil said a moment later. "It's tip was ensorcelled so that it would claim the life of whoever it struck, no matter the gravity of the wound."

"Can the effects be reversed?" Rydia asked.

Cecil shook his head. "I don't know. Until now, we didn't know that an ordinary man could become an Eidolon either."

Rydia sighed, her thoughts returning to the statue behind them. "It is strange," she admitted. "But the magic of the world is stirring. With the crystals out of sync with each other and the tower activated, who knows what old powers have been unleashed."

Edge suddenly groaned, drawing all of their attentions to where he rested against the wall. His eyes opened slowly, and he looked at each of them in confusion, and then at Rosa who was still focused on the wound in his shoulder.

"Did I miss all the talk of love and fealty?" he asked weakly.

"You did," Cecil told him with a wry smile.

"Damn," Edge muttered, closing his eyes again. "I feel as though I died for nothing."

"By the way," Cecil asked, glancing at the shoulder wound that was slowly being knitted together. "Were you really gone?"

Edge raised his brows, both eyes still closed. "There was a definite separation of my soul from its mortal coil," he quipped and then grimaced. "Very unpleasant."

"You're lucky," Rosa said, finally finishing her incantation and rocking back on her heels. "Any longer, and we would have lost you for good."

Edge groaned again, trying to roll his shoulder. "Why does it still feel like there's a rock in my shoulder?" he asked, looking down.

"I couldn't heal all of the wound," Rosa admitted, tightening her lips into a straight line. "There was a significant amount of damage and Odin's magic to undo, after all."

Edge stared at Rosa, and the white mage stared back at him. "There's something else, isn't there?" he asked sourly.

"The wound is sound enough to heal on its own, and most of what you feel is bruising."

Edge made a face, smiling darkly at the situation. "This is punishment, isn't it?"

Rosa made an innocent face and stood. "I have no idea what you're talking about," she replied.

Edge tried to roll his shoulder again. "Are you sure this wound is sound?" he asked skeptically.

"You're not going to bleed to death," Rosa remarked, placing her hand on Cecil's shoulder as she walked past him into the wider corridor.

Rydia stood as well and stepped aside, as Cecil bent down to help Edge to his feet. The ninja accepted the assistance reluctantly, frowning all the while.

They all returned to the main corridor with Odin's statue between them and the stairwell that led to the rest of the keep. They were in the process of recovering their equipment, when a babble of voices and the sound of feet suddenly descended on the catacombs.

Rydia widened her path around the statue so she could see what was happening, and saw a small detachment of guards enter the space led by a woman with red hair—Astrid.

The guards paused when they reached the base of the stairs, staring at the destruction of the catacombs with dismay. Slowly, the Baronians stepped farther into the corridor, avoiding fallen pillars and stepping over skeletal husks that had been disturbed from their rest.

When Astrid saw the four of them, her face was a mixture of surprise and outrage. She strode toward them, gesturing to the destruction around her.

"We thought Golbez had snuck back in," she shouted at them. "It's barely dawn and the whole castle is shaking. What in the nine circles of hell is going on down here?"

Before they could explain, Astrid drew close enough to make out the figure of the statue in the center of the hall. She stopped stark still. "Where did that come from?" she demanded.

"Astrid, it is good to see you again," Cecil said, trying to smooth things over.

She speared him with a glare underscored by baggy eyes. "It's not even dawn, Cecil. What in hell were you doing down here—or even here at all for that matter? I thought you were going to Eblan?"

"We've been to Eblan and back," Cecil explained. "We were in Mysidia until a few hours ago."

"Mysidia," Astrid repeated, looking at each of them. "I suppose that explains the mage garb," she remarked, nodding at Rydia and Edge who each shared a glance. "But how did you get here? There's no airship in the docks."

"Serpent's Road," Rosa supplied.

"You traveled the Serpent's Road? That's brave," she said, planting her hands on her hips. "What happened to your airship?"

Cecil grimaced and cleared his throat. "Your father."

She looked directly at Cecil, and the guards at her side went slack jawed. "My father," she echoed.

"He's alive, Astrid."

"Well, I knew that," she complained, waving her hand. "But where the hell is he?"

"We last saw him in the underworld where he made modifications to our airship," Cecil explained.

"And now he's lazing about, no doubt?" she mused, chewing on her lip. "So where is the airship? In Mysidia?"

"It's in bad shape," Cecil revealed.

Astrid nodded as if she'd expected this. "Any ship flown by you usually ends up that way," she tartly replied. "Now about this mess," she added, pointing around them. "Please don't tell me you were digging for buried treasure down here or something equally useless. It's a disaster."

"The rumors were true," Rosa said finally, speaking up for the first time.

"The rumors?" Astrid asked. "That the catacombs were haunted? Rosa, I never took you for a superstitious sap."

"We encountered Odin—or his spirit," Cecil said, avoiding the existence of the Eidolon altogether.

"Odin," Astrid said, staring at the statue again. "Am I to believe that that statue came to life and went on a rampage in the catacombs?" she asked, glancing at them in disbelief.

"Yes. And the horse," Cecil answered.

Astrid's eyes went wide as she looked around the room again. "Crystals," she muttered. "Who knew a ghost could be so pissed. Is he, you know, sleeping?"

"His spirit is at rest, yes," Rosa replied.

"Good. I've never liked horses, let alone eight legged ones," Astrid announced, and then studied them again. "You all look terrible."

"Says the one covered in oil," Rosa flatly remarked.

"Airships require building," Astrid haughtily replied, sticking up her nose.

"Airships?" Cecil asked. "You've finished the rest of Cid's fleet?"

Astrid grinned. "Oh please, that was child's play. And what with the twin moon being so strange of late, I'd say that's a good thing. I was going to take a ship to Fabul this morning. Speaking of which, where are you headed?"

"Headed?" Cecil asked.

"Why did you come here to Baron if not for news on how the gathering of the fleet was going?"

"I came here for Rosa," Cecil pointed out.

Astrid raised a brow as she looked at the white mage. "Rosa, were you fancying yourself a damsel again?"

Rosa crossed her arms. "I came here for other reasons," she huffed.

"Well, now that you're here, do you want to save me a trip?" Astrid asked, redirecting the conversation. "I figured you'd like to speak to the king of Fabul yourself."

"Astrid, you yourself pointed out that the twin moon has been acting strangely. The elder of Mysidia is relying on us to be present when he raises an ancient ship from the depths. We can't tarry here long."

"The elder of Mysidia. Ancient ship," Astrid mused. "This sounds like a lot of when's and if's. Meanwhile I have a fleet of ships waiting to be delivered to prepare for a final assault—which was your plan, by the way—and I'm short on capable pilots."

"Astrid, we simply can't abandon what we were doing. The ship the elder is planning to raise is destined for the moon, where we too are bound."

"Speaking of the twin moon, what do you know of it?" Astrid asked.

"The tower of Babil, it's influencing the orbit of the moon," Cecil explained. "That's what the elder of Mysidia told me."

"How much time do we have?"

"At least until the next full moon."

"I can already see the eastward star between the moons. It's only been four days," Astrid said, screwing her features into a frown.

"We don't have much time, then," Cecil said.

"Then neither do we. I could use a skilled pilot to fly to Fabul."

"Cecil could return to Mysidia and we could go to Fabul," Rosa suggested.

"After all of the work I just spent on coming here for you? Cecil asked, offended. "No. We all stay together. Even if that means we all go to Fabul."

Edge and Rydia both glanced at Cecil and Rosa. "Really?" they asked.

"There's just a matter of how we're getting back," Cecil mused.

"I was going to take a ship to Damcyan," Astrid mentioned. "But now I see I'll be going to Mysidia to fix the ship you wrecked. Go to Fabul with Mid, and I'll come for you there."

"So organized," Cecil remarked.

"Efficient," Astrid replied, flipping her red hair over her shoulder. "Will you go or not?"

"The elder was still turning over the archives. That could take days," Rosa pointed out, looking at Cecil, whose brow was creased in thought.

"To Fabul, then," Cecil relented. "But we can't delay there."

"Me? Delay? Astrid asked innocently, "I'm not my father," she said, whirling on her heel, and leading them up the stairs.

Rydia followed her friends out of the catacombs and heard snippets of their conversation while they climbed.

"You really meant it that all of us stay together?" Rosa asked.

Cecil looked back at her. "Rosa, I want you by my side. Why would I have come, if only to leave you here?"

"To the ends of the earth?" she asked.

"Of course," he replied.

Rosa reached out to grip his hand and smiled.

...

They exited the staircase and the east tower, stepping into the early morning sun. Rydia hung back with Edge whose white mage robe was stained with his own blood.

"Thank goodness that's over," Edge complained. "Any more talk of love and loyalty, and I was about to confess to Cecil myself."

"I didn't realize you had such strong feelings for him," Rydia observed lightly, arching a brow.

Edge grinned famously. "Yes, well, he's reliable, strong, insufferably noble-but he's missing something important..." he said, making a face.

"What?" she asked, fearing his answer.

"Green hair," he replied, and strode past her with a wink.

She followed after him with a dark expression, sensing she had walked right into his trap. At least they had managed to re-group after all of the trouble in Mysidia, and for that she was grateful. Still, she could kick him.

...

Astrid led them to the airship docks where three ships were waiting. She turned so that she was walking backwards while talking to them. "I've been meaning to ask—but where's Kain? Wasn't he with you last time?" she inquired. "Don't tell me something happen to him in the underworld?"

Rydia watched Cecil and Rosa exchange a look.

"Kain is..." Cecil began.

"He has decided to pursue other leads," Rosa finished.

"He's done what?" Astrid demanded, her tone snappish.

"We don't have time to go into it," Cecil interrupted her.

Astrid pursed her lips and turned back around, pointing to a ship with a silver, black, and crimson flag on it. "That ship is bound for Fabul," she told them, annoyed, and led them toward the gangplank.

Cecil, Rosa, and Edge climbed aboard with Mid, one of the engineers, but Astrid pulled Rydia aside.

"Other leads?" she whispered. "What a load of rubbish. What actually happened?"

Rydia's gaze rested on the wooden plank beneath them, not wanting to cause unnecessary trouble.

"Kain is with Golbez," she said carefully, unsure of how to be politick about it.

"What?" Astrid hissed.

Rydia glanced at where her companions were standing on the deck of the ship, hoping they hadn't heard Astrid's outburst. Based on her previous experiences with the airship engineer's daughter, she knew her simple explanation was not going to be enough. At least she had tried.

"We almost had the last of the dark crystals in our hands," she continued quietly. "But Golbez had his hooks in Kain again, and he stole the crystal from us. We haven't seen him since."

"Mind control, again," Astrid complained, crossing her arms angrily. "I swear, I've never seen a kingdom of such weak-minded men. How is Golbez even able to do that?"

"I have no idea," Rydia admitted, "But there's nothing we can do about Kain now, except to stop Golbez altogether. And to do that, we have to travel to the moon. You'll really come to Fabul to get us?" she asked after a moment, finally stepping up the plank.

"You have my word," Astrid answered, chewing her lip, obviously disturbed and irritated by Kain's defection. "I'll be there as soon as I can get your ship up and running again."

"Astrid, if the repairs will take longer than a day, just leave them," Cecil called down to her from the ship's deck.

"Sure, sure," Astrid replied, waving him off. "Don't you worry. I can sort through my father's designs as easily as I can pen my name."

"I'm not joking, Astrid!" Cecil repeated very seriously.

"I'm aware, moon man," Astrid snipped back. "Have safe travels to Fabul. I'll see you in about two days' time!" she shouted up to them, as Mid helped Cecil pull the gangplank onto the ship so they could depart.

Rydia stood at the railing, waving to the vivacious redhead below. As the sounds of preparation increased around her, she took a moment to survey the activity on board. Cecil had walked to the ship's controls and wheel, pulling levers until the ship came to life and there was a jolt as the vessel lifted from the ground.

It would be a long flight to Fabul, she knew. One she would have to find some means of occupying her time.

...

Hours had passed since they'd left Baron, and Rydia had exhausted Rosa of conversation. And, if she was honest, she had heard enough about Cecil's fine qualities to last her for days. Rydia had left Rosa in the ship's cabin, and climbed to the deck. Cecil was preoccupied with piloting the ship, but Edge was sitting on the ship's deck across from her, staring at the sky.

She knew there was some danger in approaching him, but they had unfinished business, so she took a deep breath and walked toward him.

Edge was leaning against the stairway railing with a pained expression on his face.

"How's your shoulder?" she asked cautiously.

He glanced at her to acknowledge her presence, and then touched the front of his shoulder hesitantly and frowned. "Non-fatal, but irritating."

"What happened, exactly? I saw the attack, but I didn't see you fall," she said.

"You did actually looked concerned when I woke," he pointed out with a small smile.

She pursed her lips as she sat down beside him. "My only concern was that we wouldn't be able to finish our argument from earlier," she replied matter-of-factly.

"Ah, that," he said, then drew his brows together as he looked at her curiously. "Which one?"

"The one where you started to tell me something interesting and then ran off," she answered tartly.

"Which time?" he deflected.

She made a disgusted sound in her throat. "Both, actually. Your mother, and what you know of magic."

"The answer is yes," he answered.

She made a confused face. "Yes to what?"

"Yes, my mother was trained in Mysidia, and yes, that's how I can tell the difference."

Rydia sat back, bracing herself with her hands. "Really?" she asked. "How did she end up in Eblan, then? That all seems strange to me."

"Most things seem strange to you," he replied pointedly.

Rydia frowned, glaring at him. "Just like this errand we're now carrying out for Astrid."

"It's a nice change of pace," Edge admitted, grimacing as he worked at his shoulder a little more.

Rydia had a suspicion she wanted to verify. "This whole journey away from Mysidia had very little to do with Rosa, did it?"

He looked at her, seemingly offended, but then grinned as he turned away.

She leaned forward to look at him squarely, hoping to capture his attention.

"You were just hoping to get out of Mysidia?" she realized.

He looked back at her, not saying a word, only leveling his cool cat-like gaze on her.

"Did you purposely plot Rosa and Cecil against each other, knowing this would happen?" she demanded.

He opened his mouth, then closed it, reconsidering his answer.

"That was simply a convenient happenstance," he finally replied.

"You pulled me out of bed, forcibly dragged me to Baron; I broke my wrist fighting an Eidolon, and now we're running errands across the world for Astrid. All of this was convenient,"she complained.

He leaned toward her conspiratorially. "At least we are no longer responsible for looking through Mysidia's archives," he reminded her. "One more day and they would have had you locked in a library searching for answers that do not exist."

"You don't know that they don't exist," Rydia protested, resting her hand on her waist such that her elbow jutted out at a sharp angle. "You unanimously decided that we leave the city. That's selfish, to say the least."

"I admit that I have little love for Mysidia, but we would have been wasting our time there," he answered briskly. "We served no purpose. I find this quest far more interesting than translating ancient whale drawings into the common tongue."

"So this isn't some scheme of yours to get out and see the world before it ends?"

"I don't control Astrid, nor do I direct the winds. If someone asks that we go somewhere with their airship, who am I to complain?"

Rydia tapped her finger on the railing, glaring at him. "You always complain," she announced, irritatedly.

"I might want to see Fabul before the world is destroyed, true, but that was never my intention."

"You really wanted to get out of Mysidia so badly that you don't mind being sent to the opposite corner of the world? What on earth happened to your mother there that has caused you to dislike them so much?"

He looked out across the railing, at the clouds whisping by. "There were...several differences of opinion in regards to her magic."

"How so? Wasn't she a mage?" Rydia asked, perplexed by his answer.

He sighed. "Her skills were—oh, how to say it—beyond their understanding."

Rydia studied him. "She had magic like you," she ventured.

He looked back at her, his gray-blue eyes intense in the sunlight, but said nothing.

"Fine then," Rydia huffed, looking away again. "I'll get an answer out of you eventually, you know," she vowed.

He grinned. "Those are bold words for someone who gives up so easily."

Rydia scoffed, twisting to face him. "Easily? Wasn't it you who told me the end of a conversation was when one person walked away?"

He gave her a flat appraisal. "And you always do as you're told, don't you."

"I don't always. I could—well, I—"

He raised a brow skeptically. "Break the rules?"

"Bend them," she said, offended. "But has it ever crossed your mind that I might just find you uninteresting and eventually stop asking?"

He squared off against her. "Hasn't happened yet, and I have no reason to imagine why it might any time soon."

She narrowed her eyes, stymied by his rebuttal. "Besides, it's unfair," she replied. "I helped you break the rules in the Sealed Cave, if you remember."

He nodded slowly in acknowledgement. "That's true, you did. I wish you would do it more often, actually," he said, glancing back at her shrewdly.

"You might not care what impression you leave, given that you probably won't be seeing any of us after this is over; but I, for one, would like to keep my friends," she answered hotly.

He shook his head in disbelief. "Keeping friends during a war," he mused. "Friends who helped destroy your very livelihood and home; whose quest has taken ten years of your life away, and on whom you now rely for your very survival."

"Why do you always sway back and forth between being with us or against us?" she wondered. "If you dislike us so much, why don't you return to your own people?"

"Because Cecil is the only person with the means and the connections to do anything about Golbez. Haven't we been through this before? Besides, if my disagreements force him to abandon some of his less inspired ideas, all the better."

"All that your disagreements have done so far is split our group apart and send us on a merry chase," she volleyed.

"I would rather be of service to the world's last ditch effort at defending itself, than spending my final days meditating in a library. At a time like this, I'm all for dividing resources."

"Sometimes you say too much," Rydia said, annoyed.

"And you, too little," he countered.

"You want me to disagree with Cecil about going to the moon?" she asked.

He looked at her, pretending to be surprised by her conclusion. "Rosa had a point. Dramatic, granted, but true."

"What exactly do you expect me to do?" she huffed.

"You don't always have to agree with him, and if you weren't so afraid of hurting feelings, you might have spoken up about Kain much sooner."

"I am not afraid of—" she sputtered. "There was never a good—"

"Time?" he interrupted.

She exhaled sharply, quickly becoming more annoyed with him.

"How do you plan to rebuild what's left of your home with such lackluster confidence?" he inquired.

"It amazes me that you can lead your own people with such arrogance," she replied, stiffening.

He ignored her statement, replying with a biting remark of his own. "When this ends, if it ends," he said. "I can see Mist's future plainly. 'I could have retained the dignity of the summoners, but Baron had other ideas, and it sounded alright to me'."

"That's a stretch," she answered angrily.

"You owed Cecil a debt when you were seven," he pointed out. "You have to think ahead, and for yourself now. I think you go along with half of Cecil's plans because you're comfortable."

Rydia frowned. "What else am I supposed to do?"

"Redeploy yourself," he answered. "What if he's the only person really meant to go to the moon? Rosa raised an interesting point—that going to the moon might not solve anything. Astrid and her fleet are gathering everyone that's left in the world. What if we could be doing something more useful here with this 'fleet'?"

Rydia rolled her eyes. "In Mysidia you were talking about how important it was to have a white mage with us, and now you're talking of not going to the moon at all."

"That was before I knew such a fleet existed. Now that I know there are options, my priorities have shifted," he casually replied.

"You're perfectly welcome to stay here, but I'm still going to the moon if that's where Cecil and Rosa are going."

He set his lips in a straight line. "Predictable."

"Why are you trying so hard to persuade me to stay behind with you?"

"You have the Eidolons," he answered. "And enough black magic in your tiny finger to level a kingdom."

"My skills could be invaluable on the moon, too," she objected.

"Could be," he repeated. "But none of us knows what's up there. We know what's down here."

"This is just your excuse of not having to return to Mysidia," Rydia replied airily. "We're going to the moon—all of us, whether or not I have to ask an Eidolon to restrain you and carry you along."

He grinned at that. "Executive decision?"

"Yes," she answered flatly, and stood up to find someone less irritating to keep her company.

...

Mid was sitting in the belly of the ship, poring over charts on a table when Rydia climbed below deck. His hands were cradling his face, pushing back his greasy brown hair.

"Are you alright?" Rydia asked, taking a seat across from him.

He looked up at her briefly, and then stared hopelessly back at his charts.

Rydia's eyes followed his, tracing dotted lines that marked trails across continents like ants. "We must be getting close to Fabul by now," Rydia said, trying to coax him into conversation again.

Mid sighed, staring at the cabin window. "I'm an engineer, not a teacher!" he whined.

"Astrid wouldn't have sent you along if she didn't have confidence in you," Rydia tried to assure him, though her confidence in herself was a little shaken after the conversation she'd just had. She put on a smile for the engineer, hoping to cheer him up. "Besides, you helped build the ship—who better to teach the Fabulians how to pilot it?"

Mid stared at her incredulously. "You have a point there, but I've no skills with people! Bolts and screws, and propellers are my language!"

Rydia was at a loss there, but she tried her best. "Then pretend the people are the very same," she suggested. "Someone has to get them ready."

"Can I ask you something, miss?" Mid asked hesitantly.

"Of course," Rydia replied.

"Does it scare you—the idea of going to the moon?"

Rydia fidgeted in her seat. "It's—" she paused, finding that she had never confronted this question on her own. "It's a frightening thought, but a little exciting. No one's ever gone to the moon before," she admitted.

"I hope whatever you find there can be of help to us. I've never gone up against a force as superior as Babil's."

"I hope so too," Rydia agreed, and then looked back at the charts. "This is where we are?" she asked, pointing to a portion of coast along Damcyan's eastern boundary.

"Aye, that's where we are," Mid confirmed. "We've half a day's flight yet to go."

Rydia sighed. "Then maybe you can teach me something about charting on the way."

Mid brightened a little. "That, I can do."

0-0-0-0-0

The airship finally entered the borders of Fabul, and Cecil landed them across from the city and the channel that surrounded it. They disembarked into chilly air. It felt like late autumn, and Rydia shivered, rubbing her arms on their walk to the city.

They were allowed access to the keep, and as they crossed the castle's bailey, Rydia smelled the scent of spices and herbs overpowered by something sulfuric. The castle was different than their last visit, when they had come to tell Meiling of her husband's "death". Now it was bustling with activity—women and children carrying bundles of cloth and leather, while the older men were pouring a strange black powder into large cylinders.

" So this if Fabul?" Edge asked, looking around.

"Yes—oh, but don't you already know everything about it, and you're just asking me for the sake of annoyance?" Rydia asked heatedly.

"Are you still bitter about Mysidia?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm still bitter!" she retorted, increasing her pace and leaving him behind.

They were soon joined by young men, boys really, wearing leather armor and wielding claws; and were directed through the milling crowds to the throne room itself. The scene inside the throne room was hectic, not unlike the halls leading to it. There were more young men bearing arms amidst women who were measuring and trimming leather for armor.

The king was overseeing their efforts, leaning heavily on a crutch.

He looked up expectantly when they entered, and Cecil bowed to the older man out of deference.

"This is unexpected," the king said, looking at each of them. "Are you here on behalf of Astrid and Baron's engineers?"

"We have an airship ready for your use," Cecil explained. "And this is Mid who will teach you how to pilot it."

"Who'm I to train, then?" Mid asked, peeking out around Cecil.

The king nodded to Mid and gestured at the citizens at work around him. "I'm afraid we have no one with experience in mechanicals. You'll have your work cut out for you, but thank you for coming to us."

Mid gazed at the boys and women around him, overwhelmed.

"These are all the forces we have left," the king explained. "I'm not sure what good we'll be against Golbez, but at least we have another airship to fight fire with fire. We have been re-purposing our fireworks into weapons in the meantime. We always used these for celebration, now they shall be used for war."

The king then gestured several older boys over to him, and pointed to Mid. "This man will teach you how to fly Baron's airship. Listen well and take notes if you must. Our kingdom depends on you."

The young men blanched, and Rydia noticed they were her age or younger, as they followed an equally nervous engineer out of the throne room to the ship waiting in the field.

Once they had left, the king returned his attention to Cecil. "There was once a time when you stayed to help us fight against Baron. I know that is no longer a possibility, but often I find myself wishing that Yang were here to lead our forces."

Rydia chewed on her lip, realizing they hadn't been able to inform Yang's wife that he was alive, and wondering if it was her place to speak up about such news.

"Your majesty, there is something else," Cecil mentioned, as if reading her thoughts.

"Do you know how much time we have or where we are marshalling?" the king asked. "Have other plans been made?"

"No, Yang—"

The king squinted at Cecil, waiting for him to continue. "What about him?"

"He isn't dead as we thought," Cecil continued. "He is alive in the underworld in the keeping of the Sylphs."

The king's eyes widened. "He lives? Can he be reached?"

"I'm afraid the last we saw him, he was unconscious," Rosa revealed. "They were tending to his wounds."

"Have you told his wife?" the king asked, casting his gaze around the throne room.

"We have not seen the lady Meiling," Rosa answered, disappointedly.

"She must be told at once," the king insisted, flagging down a messenger and giving the boy instructions before sending him off again. "This is crucial news," the king said excitedly. "If he lives, then there is hope. This will rally my remaining forces as few other things would. You will give strength back to my kingdom, knowing that he lives."

It wasn't long before Meiling burst into the throne room, accompanied by the messenger, her eyes frantically searching for Cecil. When she saw them, she strode right up to them. In her hand was an iron pan.

Meiling was covered in soot, her hair tied up in haphazard bundles with long strands falling on either side of her face. She looked as if she had just fought a war with a chimney. For a moment, Rydia was afraid she might attack them with the pan in her hand, but Meiling kept it at her side, her knuckles white beneath the gray stains.

"They have something to tell you," the king informed her gently.

Meiling locked eyes with Cecil like some wild thing. "What is it? Is it my husband?"

"Meiling, we found him," Cecil explained slowly and carefully, like one does to a tantrum prone child.

She nodded slowly. "Found him," she repeated. "Dead or alive?"

"Alive."

Meiling's expression morphed as she stared at Cecil, and then at the others for confirmation. "Alive? Where?"

"In the underworld," Rosa told her.

Meiling began to pace, but Rosa reached out for her arm. "Meiling, he was in bad shape when we found him. He's presently being cared for by the Sylphs."

Meiling took in a deep breath, followed by another. "I can't believe this. All of this grief I've carried, only to—" Meiling trailed off, but turned to face Cecil again, and thrust the iron pan into his baffled hand.

"You find my husband," she threatened, still holding onto the pan's handle and shaking it vigorously. "You find him, and you give him hell for me!" she said before storming out of the throne room.

Cecil stared after her awkwardly, still holding the pan. "Does she really mean for me to keep this?" he asked.

The king shrugged. "She has bested many foes with that pan. If she's given it to you, then she intends for you to use it."

"On what?" Cecil asked, confused.

The king shook his head. "My guess would be on her husband."

Rydia and Rosa looked at the king aghast.

"For the wife of a monk, she sure has a sense of humor," Edge muttered under his breath. Rydia glanced at him, almost forgetting he was there and wishing he wasn't.

The king cleared his throat. "Is there any news from Mysidia?" he asked, repeating his earlier question. "Is there word on when and where we are to marshal?"

"When the twin moon is aligned with the tower and at its fullest phase, we will have run out of time."

"And the rest of you? Where do you go from here?"

"To Mysidia, I hope," Cecil answered, crossing his arms. "The elder is seeking a means to send us to the twin moon to find someone or something that can undo Golbez's plans from there."

"So you're going to the moon, and we're flying to Babil."

"Yes, events are shaping up that way."

"Very well. We will prepare and continue as planned, before the next full phase of the moon," the king said, surveying his workers.

"Excellent. And we will wait for Astrid," Cecil replied.

"You are welcome to stay here," the king assured them. "The inn is less staffed than normal, but still welcomes guests."

"Thank you, your majesty. Your hospitality, as always, precedes you," Rosa accepted graciously, bowing to the older man.

The king smiled at them, his beard lifting at the corners of his mouth, as he nodded them out of the room. Cecil led them out of the throne room and through the castle's bailey to the outbuildings and the inn.

The room was crowded and the beds had been pushed close together, while the other half of the inn had been filled with bolts of fabric.

"Looks like they're using this place for storage now," Rosa remarked, setting down her pack on a bed.

Edge walked up to one of the bolts, touching the fabric. "I recognize this cloth," he said absently, perusing through the other bolts.

Rydia eyed him shrewdly. "That's odd," she remarked, causing him to look up at her.

"What's odd?" he repeated. "We trade with Fabul. These dyes are from Eblan," he said, outdoing her own snide remark with solid facts. Rydia crossed her arms, having hoped his reason would have been something more vain, and in keeping with his personality.

"Do you think it will be long before Astrid comes to get us?" Rosa asked.

Cecil made a face, doing calculations in his head. "Mysidia is closer to Baron than Fabul, so she must have arrived long before we did, and already started with her repairs. If anything, she's six hours ahead of us, perhaps more."

"Right then," Rosa announced. "I'm getting sleep wherever and whenever I can. If she works through the night, we may see her by morning."

"Going to sleep already?" Edge asked, surprised.

Rosa tilted her head at the ninja, a biting smile on her lips. "If it weren't for a chain of unpleasant circumstances beginning last night, I might have slept. As it is, I haven't slept in days, and I'm holding you responsible."

Cecil glanced archly at the prince with that remark, wondering what Rosa had meant by it. Edge in the meanwhile raised both of his hands. "Not what you think," he said in his defense.

Rydia left the inn before another argument could begin. There had been more than enough of those in recent weeks, and she had something on her mind that had plagued her since Mysidia. She chose to leave the castle behind, ignoring everyone else for a while. She had an overdue appointment with a friend. She walked to the edge of the channel that surrounded Fabul, past the trees with bare branches, and closed her eyes. She needed to balance herself, and clear her mind before she began a summoning.

The magic of the crystals was different again. Every time and every place she'd cast, she had sensed the minutiae of their response to her. It was as if the crystals resonated more strongly below ground than above; as if their power was more contained in the smaller space. During her battle with Odin, she had felt more resistance, and more anger reflected from her spell, than what she had intended. And now, beginning a different incantation that drew one life from another realm, the crystals felt quiet, expectant.

She spoke the summoner's language, old and familiar, until a name rose to her tongue—the true name of the one she wished to see.

Mist spread from the water, flowing to the shore, and coated Rydia's skin with dew.

"You summoned me, my dear?" Mist's low and melodious voice asked from within her veil of vapor.

"I did," Rydia answered, not having to see the dragon, to know where she was.

"What do you require of me?"

"Your opinion," Rydia told her, folding her arms and bunching her robes more tightly around herself.

The dragon swept past her, stirring the mist until it coalesced into the garments of Mist's human guise. "My opinion," the woman with silver hair mused. "What about?"

Rydia tried to form her question, but she was still torn over which to ask. "We're going to the moon," Rydia explained quietly. "Or at least, Cecil has been called there."

"And you're wondering whether you should go with him or remain here?"

Rydia looked at Mist, not having to speak.

Mist hummed and stepped closer, brushing Rydia's hair away from her face. "My dear, you have never been conflicted about your loyalty before. What has changed?"

Rydia frowned, trying to fight down her doubts.

"Two of my companions have talked of staying here on the earth. There is a fleet of airships that are being prepared to battle the tower, and I've been asked to stay as well—that my magic could be of use here."

"You fear the moon, and what awaits you there?"

"Is it worth it? Do we know it holds any benefit for us?" Rydia asked desperately.

Mist inclined her head, looking up at the moon that glimmered red in the night sky. She closed her eyes, her lips parted slightly as though she were taking in a scent.

When she opened her eyes again, she gazed at Rydia with eyes that glistened with starlight.

"You must go," Mist declared with absolute certainty.

"Mist?" Rydia asked, looking perplexedly at her companion. "What happened just now?"

"A voice," Mist answered drunkenly. "A voice I have not heard in many years."

"What did it say?" Rydia asked.

"It was a voice of welcome—it called me sister."

Rydia crossed her arms, staring at the moon. "But what does it want?"

Mist's mouth curved into a smile, eerily dragon-like on the human face. "There is one like us on the moon," she explained. "Rydia, you must go there and seek him. He is asking for you as well."

"For me?" Rydia was stunned. "Someone on the moon recognizes me?"

"You are the last summoner. You have bested the Lord of All Waters, and now the greatest of us wishes to test your skill."

Rydia took a step back, shaking her head. "You're not speaking of—he's on the moon?" she asked, flabbergasted.

Mist tilted her head at her. "This surprises you? That the Hallowed Father should be anywhere else?"

Rydia's heart raced in her chest. "Bahamut," she said slowly; disbelievingly. "He's there?"

Mist took a few steps forward to account for Rydia's steps back and put her hands on Rydia's shoulders. "You were called as well, my dear. Let the world toil as it must—you were called to a higher purpose. You must speak to the Hallowed Father. He is older than any of us, and he knows secrets about the world, and of the crystals, that may save those you hold dear."

Rydia was shocked numb. "Will I still be able to summon you?" Rydia asked, fearing the distance from the moon to the Feymarch.

"Distance means nothing," Mist assured her, as though reading her thoughts. "Wherever you are, I will be at your side."

"Thank you," Rydia breathed in relief.

"Was there anything else?" Mist asked.

Rydia sighed. "Do you think that I never think for myself?" she asked timidly.

Mist narrowed her eyes, studying her. "You most certainly think for yourself," she replied, ruffling her hair. "A girl who tries to run away from the Feymarch, ignores an order from the queen, and finds herself in the Void for a year all to rescue me? That is a girl who is perfectly capable of thinking for herself. Not that all of those decisions were wise, but they were definitely your own."

Rydia smiled sheepishly, her cheeks reddening.

"Put all those other thoughts aside," Mist ordered. "You are grown now, and you have a war to fight. Follow the path to the moon, wherever that takes you, and learn what you can from it."

"Thank you, Mist," Rydia said with relief.

"Rydia, ask for me whenever you need me," the Eidolon told her.

Rydia bowed her head appreciatively, and bade Mist return to the Feymarch. The vapor fled, and all that was left were the sounds of night and the chilly autumn air.

0-0-0-0-0-0

Astrid arrived by mid-morning, setting the Falcon down amidst a maelstrom of dust and dry grass.

Cecil was not keen on long goodbyes, and kept their parting with important persons brief and to the point. By the time they had left the city to join Astrid on the deck of the airship, she was leaning against the railing, gracelessly eating a fruit.

"I'll admit, that was quick," Cecil called up to her.

She smiled and did a brief bow. "I told you," she replied. "And I have another announcement to make," she shouted down to them.

They all stared at her intently, wondering what she had in store for them.

"Since I'm presently in command of this vessel, and since it'll be days at least until the moon's orbit is in line for a full moon, there's something I need to do."

Cecil frowned, uncertainly. "How do you know this, Astrid? We could have less time than you think."

"The elder informed me while I was making repairs," she corrected him.

"He's figured out the charts so quickly?" Cecil asked, as he climbed aboard.

"There's the observatory in Agart, you know," Astrid explained, out-stepping him to the ship's controls. "Which, despite having the mountain beside it erupt so violently so often, has managed to stay in operation."

"But how did Agart get its information to Mysidia so quickly? It's been less than two days since we left."

"Pigeons," Astrid replied matter-of-factly. "Obviously."

Cecil stood poised by the ship's wheel, hoping to have an opening to step in and take over, but Astrid didn't let him. "What exactly is this thing you need to do?" he asked.

She thrust the levers by the wheel away from her, engaging the primary motors. "You're coming with me to the underworld," she announced, pulling another set of levers toward her, as the propellers began to turn and rise the ship up from the dusty plain. "There's an old fool whose help I need. And you're going to help me get him."

Rydia was almost too stunned to hear this—to respond. Everyone else on the ship turned to stare at her. Cecil, on the other hand, was outraged.

"The underworld, Astrid? Really?"

"You want ships? I need another engineer," she insisted. "And perhaps we can recruit the dwarves while we're there."

"You're mad," Cecil declared.

"Damn right, I am," she countered. "Besides, it's plain rude for a father not to tell his daughter he's dead and then not dead."

Rosa gave her a scalding look which Astrid ignored.

"The thing is, there's a storm brewing over Damcyan and heading east," Astrid informed them. "We'll hit it flying over the continent. So I'm taking us by sea over the archipelago."

"It takes a day and a half at least to reach Agart, and you want to spend more time flying across the underworld looking for your father?" Cecil said, dismayed.

Astrid stared at Cecil for a protracted moment. "I can see why you're so theatrical," she said, nodding to Rosa. "How else does anything get done?"

"I am not theatrical," Rosa protested, crossing her arms.

"I've always wondered why only the men get to go off and carry out plans," Astrid carried on, ignoring her again. "Seems to me that they spend all their time running to stand still. I prefer not to lose momentum."

"Astrid, you realize that you are hijacking our efforts to save the world, in favor of your own personal agenda."

"The world can wait. I can't."

"I like her," Edge announced, staring at the engineer's daughter with admiration.

Rydia walked past him, exasperated. "Who don't you like?" she asked.

"Kain," he answered immediately.

Rydia walked away, unable to comment on that remark.

Before they had risen high into the air, a heavy metallic clunk hit the deck of the ship. They all turned to see what it was.

There, on the planking, was a coal black iron pan with a note attached to the handle.

Rosa leaned down to pick it up, and unwrapped the note from the pan. She laughed, and then shook her head. "I thought you left this behind?" she asked Cecil with a quick look. "Meiling wants to remind us that she meant every word she said."

"I know Yang is thick skulled, but this seems a little extreme," Rydia objected, taking the pan from Rosa's hand and testing the weight of it. It was solid, dangerous.

Cecil was staring at it, as if it was diseased. He sighed, annoyed. "To the underworld it is," he relented, gazing at Astrid.

Astrid smiled wolfishly. "Good," she said. "Get comfortable."

0-0-0-0-0-0

With all the time they had been flying in recent days, Rydia's attention had returned to her studying. There was a change of pilots several hours after leaving Fabul—Astrid claiming fatigue—and Cecil had taken over for her.

"Rydia—" Astrid said, as she was walking by, spying the book she was reading.

Rydia glanced up, uncomprehending.

"What is that?" she asked, plucking the rat's tail out of the tome where Rydia had used it as a bookmark.

Rydia stared at the disgusting thing, and then looked at Astrid. "It's a tail," she said simply, just as Edge done when she'd asked him.

Astrid seemed more enthused about the tail, however, than Rydia imagined anyone should be.

"Do you know what this is?" Astrid repeated, her tone becoming more excited.

"A tail," Rydia repeated, not sure why this was important.

"My father has been searching for something like this for ages," Astrid twittered, twirling it in her fingers. "He's been trying to get his hands on a certain metal for months, but the men who have it will only trade for a bloody ridiculous tail; and not just any tail—no, an enchanted one."

Rydia glanced at the tail, at the wiry hairs sticking out from the dry skin. "There's nothing particularly special about—"

"Look at the quality of the hair," Astrid talked over her. "Look at the banding, at the length and width. This came from a rat from a different part of the world. One, no doubt, enhanced by magic. They're bound to trade for this.

"What metal is this, Astrid?" Rydia asked, finally curious.

"Adamant ore," Astrid replied absentmindedly.

The name made Rydia pause. "Adamant?" she repeated, eyeing Astrid sideways. "You know where it is?"

"Of course I do," Astrid answered, still holding the tail. "It's on an island near Silvera, where Mythril is mined."

They stared at each other for a moment.

"Why do you know about it?" Astrid asked, narrowing her eyes.

"There was a smith in the underworld who was looking for the same ore, and said he would render a service for Cecil if we ever found and brought him some."

"A smith," Astrid repeated, staring Rydia down. "What if, say, we come across the ore first. Does that mean that I—I mean, we—get to keep what we trade for?"

"He's been searching for this ore most of his life," Rydia informed Astrid. "It wouldn't be fair to find it and then not give him any."

Astrid groaned. "What if we bartered him for part of it."

Rydia wrinkled her brow. "What do you even need it for?" she asked.

Astrid leaned away, evasively. "Things," she answered.

Rydia made a face. "I have a feeling that you and Edge would get along fantastically," she muttered.

Astrid grinned at her. "I don't know about that," Astrid gallantly replied. "I think he's already got his sights set on someone."

Rydia looked at Astrid curiously. "What—who?" she asked, wanting to know what that meant. Did Edge have someone at home he was pining after? Did he—no.

Astrid had already walked to the cabin door, as an unsettling thought entered Rydia's mind. "Astrid, what did you mean by that!" she demanded.

"Oh, just open your eyes, girl, and you'll figure it out," Astrid called back over her shoulder before taking the cabin stairs two at a time.

If it hadn't been for the fact that the other woman hadn't slept in several days, Rydia would have gone after her. In the meanwhile, she was left with Cecil above deck, flying over the archipelago southward toward Silvera and all that lay beyond.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Hours faded away, and Rydia had grown tired of reading, or of making shapes out of the clouds. Astrid had emerged from her bunk with wayward hair, but insisted she was rested enough to take back the helm. Cecil explained the charts to her, and she nodded, yawning.

"Ah, good!" Astrid exclaimed. "We haven't passed Silvera after all."

Rydia crawled up and walked to the helm, where Astrid was telling Cecil something. When she got closer, Rydia realized that Astrid had tied the rat's tail around her wrist like a bracelet. She scowled, disgusted by the makeshift adornment.

"Silvera," Cecil said with a frown.

"Won't take long, a few minutes at most," Astrid assured him.

Cecil sighed, unable to dissuade her.

Rydia looked at him sympathetically, a look he returned.

Astrid flew them along the islands below until they reached sight of Silvera, a place Rydia also had never seen. Astrid changed the direction of the ship heading east, and then returned the ship's controls to Cecil.

Astrid gave Cecil strict instructions about keeping the ship steady and level, and then walked to the center of the ship where she picked up a bundle of rope and slung it over her shoulder. Rosa and Edge had returned to the ship's deck to see what was going on, while Astrid tied a knot to the side railing. Edge checked it for her, out of concern for her self-preservation, and declared it sound.

"Who's coming with me?" Astrid asked.

"I'll go," Edge volunteered, not really sure what he was volunteering for.

"What exactly are you doing, again?" Cecil asked for clarification.

"Adamant," Astrid called back to him. "May as well get it while we're here."

"The ore?" Cecil asked, in disbelief.

"It's not some imaginary legend," Astrid assured him. "It's quite real, and quite valuable."

"How do you expect to trade for it?" Cecil inquired.

Astrid shook her wrist with the rat's tail on it. "With this," she said.

"How much time do you need?" Cecil asked again.

Astrid made a face while she thought it over. "Not long. Few minutes—tops."

She took the rope and shimmied down it, hooking her foot around the rope while she slid. Edge followed her, but Rydia stayed behind, watching them land on the rocky shore of the island below.

There was a shelf of jagged rock and a mine shaft had been carved into it. Rydia and Rosa watched with consternation at the strange trading venture about to take place.

"This journey is becoming stranger," Rosa admitted, peering down.

"Yes it is," Rydia agreed.

...

More than a few minutes went by before Astrid and Edge returned from the mine carrying a large bundle of rock between them. They tied it to the end of the rope, climbed up, and then pulled the ore aboard with an underwhelming thump.

All of them except for Cecil crowded around it, almost as if they expected it to do something.

"So this is the adamant?" Rosa asked.

"Yup." Astrid and Edge answered simultaneously.

"Exciting," Rydia remarked.

"Right," Astrid agreed, walking back to the ship's controls to relieve Cecil.

Rosa sighed and returned to the cabin, and Edge started to walk after her, thoroughly bored.

"How was your adventure with Astrid?" Rydia asked him, a little more pointedly than intended.

He glanced back at her. "I've changed my mind," he stated. "I don't like her as much as I thought," he said, looking a little pink in the ears. Rydia couldn't figure out if it was because of anger or embarrassment.

She let him escape to the cabin, feeling oddly victorious. She paused, furious with herself for having felt...jealous? She kicked the lump of adamant ore and bit back a cry as she stubbed her toe.

She glanced back at Cecil and Astrid, hoping they hadn't seen, and then stalked off to her books. She had more reading to do.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

They flew for the rest of the day and into the night, and Rydia had retired to the ship's cabin until the air warmed, and it became too unbearable to sleep. She groaned in her cot, knowing precisely where they were without having to see the magma plains.

She climbed to the ship's deck only to be bombarded by the underworld's heat. She swayed a little as Astrid adjusted the ship's controls to clear the narrow entryway they had drilled out of rock to escape not three days earlier.

"Damn, it's hot," Astrid cursed, unable to keep the ship in a straight line because of how the rock debris had fallen.

"Be careful!" Cecil reminded her, looking like he wanted to tear the ship's wheel from her hands.

Astrid glared at him fiercely. "Under no circumstances are you allowed to touch this wheel, Cecil," she threatened. "Not until I become incapacitated. Or dead."

She adjusted the ship's controls again and the propellers alternated between turning quickly, and slowly, jolting the ship as it fell and then steadied its way down the steep and irregular juts of fallen rock.

"It's a miracle you escaped the underworld with all this rock carnage," Astrid remarked, straining at the wheel with sweat at her brow. "And damn it's bright. How the hell did any of you survive this long?"

Everyone was on the deck, standing around the helm.

"So what's first?" Edge asked.

"You have that frying pan that you can use to—cook something?" Astrid mentioned, angling the ship along the land until she found a good place to remain stationary.

"Meiling was very insistent that we see to Yang," Rosa said. "And if you planned on having your father with you, I would wait until the last possible minute to invite him aboard. I know how arguments with you go."

Astrid screwed her face into a scowl. "I know what you mean..."

"How did we end up on this quest in the first place?" Cecil muttered, crossing his arms.

"One does not ignore the command of a monk, let alone a monk's wife. Though the latter seems oxymoronic," Edge intoned.

"How far away are the Sylphs and their cave?" Astrid asked.

"Farther away than the dwarfs," Cecil answered.

"Are there charts?" Astrid asked, looking at him purposefully.

This made everyone quiet, until they noticed Rydia standing there.

Edge narrowed his eyes at her. "Weren't you given charts in the Feymach?"

Rydia stiffened as everyone stared at her. "I was," she forced out.

"Well?" Astrid asked. "Where are they?"

Rydia groaned, marching back to the ship's cabin to dig through her satchel. She returned a few minutes later with a roll of maps scrawled on animal skin.

She gave them to Cecil, and the five of them studied the maps intently.

"So where is it?" Astrid asked with a frustrated tone.

Cecil ran a hand through his hair. "Well we—"

"Don't tell me you found it by accident and now you don't know how to return there," Astrid huffed, rolling her eyes.

Cecil did not look amused.

"Why do I ask these questions, when I already know the answer?" Astrid asked disparagingly.

"It must be this mark on the map," Cecil said, pointing to a symbol on the far "west" corner of the map.

"Right," Astrid said, tracing her finger over the map between their current position and their destination.

"Can you do it?" Rosa asked.

"With me at the helm?" she asked. "I can navigate twice as well as any of you. So long as you don't ask my father."

She turned the nose of the ship around and flew them west. Rydia stared at the land beneath them, at the topography that was so similar, it never seemed to change.

They flew for hours, Astrid keeping them steady and level. A light rose to the right of the ship, and soon afterwards, the tower of Babil came into view. It was pulsating prismatically, and unrepentantly bright.

Rydia stared as they passed by, seeing it up close for the first time since they'd climbed it. It was a formidable sight, and vibrating with magic; sending out waves of energy to the point of raising the hair on her arms. She shuddered, understanding now how it could be so powerful to pull the twin moon out of its orbit.

Just as soon as they'd approached it, they were leaving it behind.

The light faded in the distance like a white sunset, and they turned their sights back to the west and the emergence of higher ridges and wider plateaus. The steam that Rydia remembered making their first voyage here so perilous had returned, the air thickening like soup.

"This is right about the time we almost died," Edge announced sarcastically, leaning against the railing and checking for imminent peril.

"I'm taking us lower," Astrid called back, adjusting the ship's altitude.

They all took turns with the map, pointing and shouting out directions to Astrid, who spent most of the duration swearing out curses at their lousy eyes.

"There!" Rosa cried out, practically hanging out of the ship.

Astrid flew in the direction Rosa had pointed, and as she lowered the ship closer to the ground, the rocks did seem familiar, and a dark mouth to a cave did burrow into their surface. Astrid circled around until she found a suitable place to land, and once the ship was securely on the ground, the five of them disembarked.

"Let's do this," Astrid declared, striding to the cave with great singleness of purpose.

The rest of them had to run to catch up to her, Rosa most frantic of them all.

"Astrid, one does not simply dive into the underworld headfirst," Rosa scolded.

Astrid made a disgusted sound in her throat.

"You have no weapons!" Cecil agreed, taking the lead back from the intrepid pilot.

Astrid glanced at him sharply, but Rydia, now approaching from behind, had to agree. The fiends of the underworld were brutal and unforgiving, and Astrid was not a warrior—that she knew of.

Astrid tugged a strange angled instrument from the belt at her waist, waving it in front of her.

"I have this," she announced defiantly.

"It's a measure," Cecil pointed out.

"And these," Astrid continued with gusto, prying more tools from her belt.

"Wrenches?" Edge remarked, less than impressed.

"Stop, stop, stop," Rosa instructed, getting to the front of the group and halting them all with her outstretched hands.

Rosa began to chant, and their feet were soon lifted off the ground by the float spell that she'd invoked.

Astrid stared at her feet as if they'd betrayed her. "When did you learn to do this?" she asked in disbelief.

Rosa smiled proudly. "Sometime after you fancied yourself an engineer."

"Is this really necessary?" Astrid wondered aloud.

"Do me a favor, Astrid, and make sure you stay close to me," Cecil instructed her, nodding to the mouth of the cave.

"You don't think I can handle myself, do you?" Astrid insisted, following the paladin.

"No," everyone answered in unison.

0-0-0-0-0-0

"Toads!" Astrid whined shortly after they had ventured into the cave. "Disgusting!"

Rydia smiled, stepping over the crisped husks of the slimy amphibians that had been impeding their journey a few minutes earlier. Somehow, the fiends of this cave weren't as challenging as Rydia remembered. But for Astrid, who had never been to the underworld—everything was new and terrible.

The four of them had fallen into their old routine—with strategies that were efficient and well known, working around Astrid like a well-oiled machine. Astrid watched them intently, staying at a distance during attacks from the cavern denizens, and staying close while they were moving.

"This is amazing," she commented after more than an hour navigating the strange and circuitous paths. "I finally get to see what Rosa is always talking about."

Cecil looked at Rosa, who shrugged innocently.

"What have you been talking about?" Cecil asked.

"About how strong you are, how quick you are to take the lead," Astrid answered, saving Rosa her own explanation. "And magic!" she gushed, bumping shoulders with Rydia. "I've never met a mage who could cast faster than you."

Rydia blushed and smiled. "I'm sure there have been better," she answered, embarrassed.

"Not many," Edge weighed in, giving Rydia a significant once-over.

Rydia frowned, wondering at this bit of praise. By the look on Astrid's face, the other woman had been thinking the same thing. Astrid tilted her head, suspicious, and the ninja slunk farther back from the group, keeping to himself.

Astrid hummed, pleased about something, and Rydia glanced at her. "What is it?"

Astrid smiled at her. "Ask me later."

Rydia frowned at her, too.

...

They walked through more of the cave; past the strange vines with their silvery leaves and twined branches. Astrid was not short on new and colorful descriptions for everything they came across, but Rydia was preoccupied with the sense that they were being watched—or followed.

"They're already watching us," Rydia pointed out when they had paused for a rest.

"We did trespass on them the last time we were here," Edge reminded her.

"We must be getting close," Cecil said, and adjusted his gear again, while Rosa chanted yet another float spell to keep them safe from the perilous ground.

The cave spanned downward and onward, but the peculiar house with its porch and stairway appeared soon enough.

"What the hell is this place?" Astrid asked, staring at it. "It looks like a plain old house. Do magical beings really live in there? Why don't they live in, I don't know, an ancient tree? Or a giant vine? Why a house?"

"Oh, Astrid," Rosa groaned, walking forward.

The climbed the steps to the porch and approached the door.

Rydia recalled what had happened the last time they'd opened it. They were assaulted by the Sylph's magic, shooed out of the house, and onto a portal that had whisked them away. Rosa preempted this outcome by casting a hasty shell spell on the five of them, and then nodded to Cecil who stood ready at the door.

They drew close and waited, preparing themselves to invade.

"Why don't you just knock?" Astrid asked curiously, rapping her knuckles against the wood without invitation.

They stared at her in disbelief, and then took quick steps back when the door opened a moment later, and a small elfin-featured face poked out at them.

"Yes?" the Sylph asked, her voice tremulous and thin like a leaf.

At first, they were too stunned to speak.

"Is there a man here in your keeping?" Rosa finally asked, peeking around Cecil.

"Who is asking?" the Sylph replied, looking at them suspiciously.

"We are his friends and companions," Rosa explained, keeping her voice calm and even.

"You are armed warriors," the Sylph mused. "But there are more females than males in your group," she observed, rubbing her chin. "We have observed that the females of the human population are less aggressive, less likely to cause trouble. You may enter."

The Sylph flitted away from the door on her tiny dragonfly wings, pointing to the side room where they had seen Yang resting before. "We have tended his wounds and repaired most of the damage he incurred. Sir Yang is a kind man, and we will look after him most faithfully."

Other Sylphs in the room flitted behind furniture and hung onto molding or in corners, avoiding the humans almost completely. Rydia and the others were allowed to safely approach the bed. Who knew all it took was a knock on the door for the Sylphs to extend their hospitality?

"He looks pale," Rosa observed, putting the back of her hand to Yang's forehead.

"He looks mostly dead," Astrid remarked, tilting her head.

"He is not!" Rydia insisted, looking at Cecil for help. "He's not, is he?"

"Of course not," Cecil assured her. "But now there's the matter of what to do with this pan. Do we leave it here with him?"

"Meiling told us to give him hell for her. I'm not entirely sure what she meant by that," Rosa admitted, staring at the pan.

"Are we supposed to cook him breakfast?" Edge quipped. "Anyone have any rosemary or thyme?"

Rydia glared at him, but admitted to herself that breakfast was preferable to giving their friend another concussion.

"Oh, give me that," Astrid complained, swiping the pan from Cecil's hand.

"Astrid!" Rosa gasped, as the woman bopped Yang on the head with it, eliciting a hollow thump.

The Sylph who had let them in fluttered angrily in Astrid's face, as others flew down from the nooks and crannies they'd been hiding in to lodge protest.

"What are you doing, you mindless brute?" The first Sylph demanded. She was frantic with worry, and hovered between the pan and the unconscious monk on the bed.

"I was only doing what his wife had asked!" Astrid defended herself, as the pan was pried from her fingers by a small armada of Sylphs.

"I had no idea that females could be so detestably brutal," one Sylph declared in a high-pitched voice. "Terrible, loathsome humans—both genders!"

Yang groaned suddenly on the bed, and everyone paused to look down at him. "Uhhhn…" he moaned, opening his eyes slowly. "Is it time for training already? Just let me sleep a little longer…" he muttered, closing his eyes again, only to open them a few moments later. "What's this? Cecil?" he cried, trying to sit up in bed, and then retreated to his pillow with a wince. He rubbed his forehead with his hand.

"Ay ya," he complained. "Has my wife been here?"

"Yang!" Cecil exclaimed.

"Thank goodness—you're awake!" Rydia said, nearly hopping up and down with excitement.

Yang chuckled, and looked around again. "Yes," he replied. "Though I would not even be alive had these kind Sylphs not rescued me," he explained, pointing to the tiny winged humanoids hovering around the bed.

"Thanks to you, the cannons were destroyed," Cecil told him. "You saved the dwarves."

Yang closed his eyes, relieved. "Thank goodness something came of that. When I woke, my body was broken and I was here. I had no idea if the dwarves had been spared their fate."

"They are alive and well—for the moment anyway."

"And now I can go with you again!" Yang insisted, trying to get out of bed.

"You mustn't go, not yet, you see! You still need care and rest!" the Sylphs demanded, forcing him back to bed by virtue of their greater numbers.

The monk relented, and flung himself back against the pillows. "I cannot simply sleep the hours away while the fate of the world hangs in the balance!" he complained, very put-out.

"The wounded have no place on the battlefield anyway," Edge retorted.

"And who might you be?" Yang demanded, looking the prince up and down.

"Edge, of Eblan—your superior replacement!" he boasted with a smile.

"Eblan, you say? A ninja, then…I refuse to take second seat to an upstart from a kingdom that stole our martial arts and then claimed they were better at it. I must go as well," Yang said, trying to sit up again only to be pushed back down.

"You are Sir Yang," Astrid intervened before Edge could build up a full head of steam, shooing the Sylphs away from her face.

"I am," Yang answered, turning his attention to her, squinting. "And who are you?"

"Cid's daughter. I've heard a lot about you."

"Cid—his daughter," Yang said, prying back blankets again. "If he is still at work, I too must return to the battlefield."

"Yang, your wounds," Rosa reminded him.

"A grown man cannot fight, but a girl, and an un-tried warrior is allowed?" he argued.

"You would be a hindrance to us in your current state," Edge retorted.

"Your injuries—" Cecil pointed out.

"Will heal with time," Yang angrily interrupted the paladin.

"We came here on behalf of your wife," Cecil explained.

"Meiling—what was she told?" Yang demanded, furrowing his brow.

"We thought you were dead," Rosa explained.

"Dead?" he insisted, sweeping his legs out of the bed.

"Yang, you must stay in bed!" the Sylph in charge was adamant.

"I can't be laying about when the world needs saving," he repeated.

"Meiling knows you're alive," Rosa hastily added.

"You've seen her? You've seen my wife?" he asked. "What has happened, have the crystals been collected by Golbez, or do we at least have something to barter with?"

"The crystals are all in his possession," Cecil answered. "We've lost our bargaining power and any advantage we might have had."

"What, then? Are you still coming at him from all sides?" Yang tried to determine.

"We were going to travel to the twin moon, until Astrid decided to tote us on an errand of hers which has turned out to be anything but short."

"How did you know I was here?" Yang asked, baffled.

"Well, we found you here by accident once before," Cecil explained, hoping the Sylphs did not remember this encounter.

"You did?" Yang asked.

"Foul humans," the Sylphs replied, fluttering their wings angrily.

"You were unconscious," Rosa told him. "And we did not have time to determine if you could be moved. We weren't allowed to stay long."

"I see," Yang answered. "I'm conscious now, and I would like to return to the fight."

"No, no, that will not do at all!" the lead Sylph cried. "Let us go in your stead!

Yang glanced at the Sylph curiously. "What do you mean by that?"

The Sylph nodded to Rydia. "This young one is a summoner—that much is plain to see. So let her call on us to fight whenever there's a need! Then you will have no need to fight, and can rest right here."

The Sylphs banded together in a group, whispering to each other, and then turned to Rydia.

"Please call us whenever you need us," they beseeched her. "We do this as a favor to Yang, though we are peaceful by nature and would normally not intercede in mortal matters."

They glowed brightly with magic, the entire room shimmering green, as Rydia was bestowed their name. Their magic felt soft, like new spring grass, and Rydia smiled as she accepted it.

"Thank you," she told them.

"We would rather help than see Sir Yang harmed again," they told her, arranging themselves protectively around the monk.

Yang sighed. "Then I will continue to rest," he yielded. "My pardons. It seems there is little I can do to help you now, weakened like this. But for curiosity's sake, what is your plan?"

"Astrid has finished the rest of Cid's airship fleet in Baron and we are gathering whatever forces each kingdom can spare. The fleet will mount an attack against the tower, while we search for a means to disarm the tower's defenses from the moon," Cecil told him.

" Fascinating," Yang mumbled. "How exactly are you going to reach the moon?"

"The elder of Mysidia is raising an ancient ship from the depths," Cecil explained, looking tired of telling this story. "According to his words, someone is waiting for us there. Until he has learned how to raise the ship, we're waiting."

"I wish you and all those still fighting the best of luck," Yang said to him. "How I wish I could go with you. I hope my wife fares well."

"She will," Rosa assured him. "She always does."

Yang smiled. "Thank you, Rosa. Give Golbez hell for me."

"Would you like us to use the frying pan?" Astrid asked.

Yang chuckled. "Wouldn't that be a sight. It acts as a good luck charm, it would seem. Keep it with you, hopefully some of that luck will rub off on you."

"We will," Cecil promised.

"Get some rest," Rydia advised him, smiling.

"You as well, young summoner," Yang replied. "Where would anyone be without you and your Eidolons?"

Rydia grinned. "A little worse for wear, I'd bet."

"If you've said all you need to say, sir Yang needs to rest," the Sylphs scolded them. "Wounds of this nature do not heal immediately, after all."

Rydia felt her spirits drop at hearing they would have to be parted again.

"Don't be sad," Yang instructed them. "You have too much to do and to concern yourselves over. I'll be fine. In fact, I'll be cheering you on from here."

"Goodbye, Yang," Rosa said, squeezing his hand.

"Goodbye for now, everyone. Until we meet again," he answered.

The Sylphs escorted them out of the room and up the stairs in the back of the house to the portal that would take them to the cavern's exit.

"Do not forget that we promised, summoner," the Sylphs reminded Rydia. "We do not break a promise once it is made."

Rydia nodded gratefully. "If I need you, I will call for you," she assured them.

"This gate will take you to the mouth of the cave. Be careful on your journey," they told the group.

Everyone nodded thankfully, and one by one, stepped onto the portal.

When they were all standing outside of the cave, Cecil took the lead back to the airship.

"Well, Astrid. I do believe it's time we paid your father a visit," he said.

"So long as you let me navigate the trickier bits," Astrid declared, keeping closely in step with the paladin.

Rydia stared back at the cave as they left it behind them, and felt a faint hum of magic in the back of her mind—a soothing note that eased her conscience. They had left Yang behind, yes, but they would be back for him someday. She didn't know why she felt so certain of this, but somehow she knew there would be a someday.

0-0-0-0-0

The airship maintained a steady high pitched whine as it plowed through the thick, soup-like air on its way back to the dwarf stronghold. Rydia had stayed above deck for most of the journey, hoping to learn something about the lay of the land. Ifrit would love the view, she thought with a smile, imagining the fiery Eidolon treating the magma like his personal bath water. She hadn't thought about her cantankerous guardian for some time. She hoped he was well—his temper just as hot as usual.

Astrid and Cecil had been exchanging a lot of talk at the wheel, and Rydia had been listening in as usual. It was mostly of airships and their building—nuts and bolts talk—and occasionally of battle plans. After a time, Astrid left Cecil in charge of the controls, leaving behind a compass to keep him on course.

"Now remember—the tower is affecting gravity and magnetism," Astrid told him. "The compass will point to the tower, but so long as you use that as your north, we should be alright," she explained before retiring to the cabin.

Rydia stayed with Cecil, helping to keep him awake by chatting about some of the stranger things they had seen on their journeys together. Their conversation stayed light, and they laughed as they reminisced about some of their former companions. Rydia found that she enjoyed hearing about the exploits of the twins and wished she could have known them.

"You don't have to stay with me for the whole flight," Cecil told her after awhile.

Rydia looked at him, curiously. Was he bored of her company already? But then she looked across the deck where he had nodded his head, and saw Rosa smiling at Cecil as if she had something she wished to tell him. Rydia smiled with a knowing nod of her head.

"I think I left something below deck anyway," she told him, taking off in the direction of the door to the cabin.

She passed Rosa on her way, and the white mage gave her an appreciative little bob. "Thank you, Rydia," she said.

"Of course," Rydia replied, knowing how little time the two of them had to be together as it was.

She descended the stairs to the cabin and paused when she heard a conversation behind the door. Astrid was speaking to Edge—more accurately, Astrid was peppering Edge with questions. Rydia stood poised at the door, and decided to eavesdrop; surprised that for once she wasn't the one having to deal with Edge's evasive nature.

"So have you told her yet?" Astrid was ribbing him relentlessly.

"Told her what?" Edge asked, managing to keep his voice even.

Astrid scoffed, and Rydia could imagine the look of frustration on her face. "You daft prince," she said. "Is this to preserve your reputation? I've gleaned enough from Rosa to know your tastes, but even I can see your mask is slipping."

Edge was strangely quiet. Rydia held her breath, fearful she might miss something. Who were they talking about?

Astrid's tone suddenly became light and playful. "So what are the laws of your people concerning transcontinental relationships? How exactly does one get married in Eblan—is it by arrangement? By vote of council?"

Edge's tone became playful as well, but also biting. "Why, are you putting in your own bid?"

"Oh please, I could unravel you within a day."

Edge laughed. "The laws of my people are none of your concern."

"Ah, but they're yours," Astrid reminded him. "Get over your damn pride already and be honest."

"I honestly have nothing to confess," he answered.

"Bullshit!" Astrid cried. "I'm trying to help you out, but if you're too preoccupied with appearances, perhaps this opportunity is wasted on you."

"I'll be the judge of that," he retorted, and Rydia straightened as she heard footsteps approach the door.

She quickly retraced her steps, pretending to approach the door from the top of the stairs. The door opened, and it was Edge who stepped out, looking angry.

He glanced up and saw her, and his step faltered.

"Rydia," he said in a clipped voice.

She blushed, wondering why he was staring at her so intently but not moving. Astrid was standing behind him in the open doorway, crossing her arms and shaking her head. She cleared her throat, and Edge finally moved out of the way, passing Rydia on the stairs without a word.

"Hi, Rydia!" Astrid called out. "Coming down to escape the heat?"

Rydia smiled at the engineer's daughter. "Exactly that," she answered, descending the final stairs and walking through the door.

"Edge looked upset," Rydia said once she'd closed the door. "Did you say something to him?" she asked, fishing for information.

Astrid gave her a feral grin. "Oh nothing he won't bounce back from, I'm sure," she replied.

Rydia raised a brow, and then grinned as well. "I'm happy I'm not the only person who can make him upset enough to walk away," she admitted.

Astrid laughed through her nose. "But you seem to be the only person who can make him come back again," she observed.

Rydia made a face. "What did you ask him?" she asked, growing tired of talking around the topic.

Astrid looked smug. "I asked him about his motivations and his interests."

"And?" Rydia asked curiously.

Astrid raised a brow at Rydia. "My, my, if you want to know for yourself, why don't you ask him?"

Rydia blushed again, knowing she would never have the courage to ask him about anything remotely close to the subject Astrid had raised behind closed doors. "Maybe I will," she said instead.

Astrid chuckled and walked to one of the ship's bunks. "I hope you do," she told Rydia honestly, and sat down, hoisting her feet in next.

"Wake me if Cecil's about to crash the ship," she requested, before she closed her eyes.

Rydia sat down at the table in the cabin and laid her hands on the tabletop, glaring at Astrid. Why wouldn't she tell her what she wanted to know? Why was everyone behaving so...oddly?

She pulled her satchel closer to her with her foot and reached down for another of her books—a bestiary with beautiful illustrations of creatures who were anything but. She lost herself in a world of lore and mystery for another few hours while her friends attended to other matters—whatever those were.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Rydia finally left the cabin when Astrid woke from her nap and bolted out of the cabin with long, purposeful strides. She accompanied the other woman to the helm where Cecil was beckoning.

"We're almost there," he explained when they drew closer. "There are two entrances. A gate through the barracks, and the other, through the keep."

"Which is closest to my father?" Astrid asked.

"Astrid, it would be wise to speak to the king before you invade his stronghold," Cecil advised.

Astrid growled. "I don't have time for tea," she declared. "I'm here for my father, not to ask permission to haul him out of bed."

Cecil did not look pleased.

"If all the Red Wings had was Astrid as their battering ram, they would have toppled every wall, gate, and tower in half the time," Rosa remarked, gazing placidly at Astrid. "They should have spent less time fussing over Cid and more time worrying about his daughter."

"How right you are, Rosa," Astrid replied with a smile. "Now take me to wherever he is," she insisted, staring Cecil down.

"When we are held for inquiry, I'm letting you do the explaining," Cecil said, altering their course to follow a plateau that Rydia recognized. After all, she had walked the whole stretch between the dwarf castle and the tower—how could she not?

Cecil set the Falcon down outside the cliff-side gate to the dwarf barracks. The gates were well camouflaged and guarded.

The five of them disembarked, and as they approached the gates, the dwarves began to tighten their formation.

"Be ye soldiers of Golbez?" one guard demanded.

"It is Cecil and company," Cecil called out to them.

A few of the dwarves scratched their heads. "But 'e left not long ago. Why return?" another dwarf asked.

"We left someone important behind," Cecil explained.

"Stand aside!" Astrid declared with a loud voice. "I've come for my father; the engineer behind the airship fleets, and one hell of a menace. I know he's here, now where is he?"

The dwarves stared at Astrid, flabbergasted. "Ye cannuh jes' barge yer way!" they said, but she sprinted right past them, outpacing them with her longer legs.

The dwarves pursued her for a short distance until Cecil and the others caught up and explained a little more thoroughly. "She's not a threat, she's just determined to find her father," Cecil told them, out of breath.

"Ne'er a daughter so fiery did we e'er see!" they remarked, huffing for air as well. "Are ye sure she wasna born o' the magma pits?"

Cecil laughed, shaking his head. "No, not quite," he said, amused.

"Ye can go, then," they said, letting the rest of them pass into the barracks unimpeded.

When they entered, Astrid was being barred from the adjacent room to the entryway by a wall of more dwarves. "Ye canno trespass!" they were telling her.

"Astrid, stand down!" Cecil commanded, and Astrid spun on her heel to glare at him.

To the dwarves, Cecil said, "She's no threat to you. This is the daughter of Cid."

"Ah," they all said in unison, backing out of the way. Rydia wanted to laugh at how everyone was behaving, like Astrid was some kind of natural disaster.

"But be mindful of where you bluster off to!" one dwarf insisted, put out. "She nearly toppled our elixir into the dust!"

Cecil bowed his head apologetically. "We will keep her in check," he assured them, shooing Astrid out of the entryway and into the rest of the barracks with a stern look.

"Astrid, you don't even know where you're going—so stop thinking you can take the lead," Cecil scolded her a few minutes later.

"Then stop walking so slowly," she retorted, angling her way around armaments and other odds and ends in the hallways.

Cecil eventually reached out and grabbed her by the shoulder, restraining her as if she was a child. She strained against him, practically pulling him along.

"Astrid, slow down!" Rosa complained, trying to keep up.

They finally left the barracks through the locked door that slid on stone gears, giving them access to the castle and all of its accoutrements.

"It's to your right," Rosa advised, and Astrid barreled onward, swinging the door to the infirmary wide open.

Astrid stood triumphantly in the doorway. "I've found you, old man," she declared. "Now get up, we've got work to do."

Rydia followed Astrid into the room and saw Cid shimmying himself to sitting, and staring at his daughter in disbelief. "Astrid!" he bellowed, somewhat unhappily. "A girl like you has no business traipsing across the world, looking for an old fool like me."

Astrid snorted, and strode toward him, nodding to the nurses on either side of the bed. "Help me get him up," she insisted, putting her arm under her father's armpit and around his back and she pried him out from under the covers. The nurses were dumbfounded, and then began protesting all at once. "He's wounded and not in stable condition!" they pointed out, trying their hardest to get Cid back into bed rather than out of it.

"Oh, for Babil's sake!" Astrid swore. "You have a pot of elixir next door that no one's using—what good is that?"

The nurses blanched. "That is only for dire occasions and only at the utmost of need," they sputtered.

"A time just like this," Astrid huffed, lugging her father to his feet while he leaned heavily against her. "Cecil, I could use your help, since they're being so useless," she complained, causing Cecil to quickly step in to assist her.

"The elixir is off limits to such a rude person as yourself," the head nurse announced. "One does not invade a place of healing as if it's a barracks on training day."

Astrid replied with a piercing glare. "I have absolutely no time to be delicate, nor to be patient. This is an emergency—it's the end of the world, and we can't wait any longer. I need him whole and on his feet, and quite frankly, so do you."

Rydia and the others acted as a shield for Astrid and Cecil as they half dragged, half carried Cid through the dwarf's bunker to where the healing elixir had been placed.

"You're mad, the lot of you," Cid complained on their journey.

"Keep it to yourself," Astrid hissed, smiling as disarmingly as she could at the dwarves they passed.

When they reached the vat that held the glimmering liquid, Astrid dipped in her hand, lifting the elixir in her palm to her father's whiskered mouth. He sipped at it hesitantly.

"Mm," he muttered, twitching his mustache from side to side. "I've always wondered if there are different vintages of elixir. This tasted rather good—first good thing I've had while I've been down here," he remarked.

Astrid rolled her eyes as Cecil looked at the engineer exasperatedly. They continued holding on to him until he suddenly threw them off. He stretched his arms out wide, and then pounded on his chest. "Hell fire! I feel good as new!" he bellowed.

"Marvelous, he's back to his old self," Edge griped, staying as far away from the engineer as he could.

Cid spun to see Rydia and the rest. "The lovely ladies, looking lovelier than ever," he said, and then he turned and saw Edge. "Brat."

"Codger," Edge retaliated, as the two shared a withering stare.

"So, everything's the same as when I last saw you?" Cid asked, twisting around, and not missing a beat.

"Mostly," Cecil answered, giving the dwarves around them reassuring looks that all was well.

None of the dwarves looked particularly pleased about this rowdy group of humans causing such a ruckus in their barracks.

"Someone please explain to me why my daughter is here in the underworld, acting like some kind of soldier?" he demanded.

Astrid put her hand on her hip. "You're coming with me to Baron," she said hotly.

"Well of course I'm going back to Baron—where else would I possibly be going? But to do what, exactly?"

Astrid sighed. "I finished your fleet."

"You mean Mid and my engineers finished the fleet," he corrected her.

She chewed her lip. "Sure," she answered, rolling her eyes. "The fleet is finished and in need of pilots for the assault against Babil."

Cid furrowed his brow. "There's to be an assault against Babil with an airship fleet? My airship fleet?" he asked. "Who thought up this scheme?"

Cecil cleared his throat and Cid whirled on him. "That would be me, Cid."

"You came up with this crazy plan? Excellent! How many ships do we have?" the older man asked excitedly.

"Including the Falcon and the Enterprise?" Astrid thought, "Six."

Cid frowned. "You got the Enterprise back from Eblan?" he asked, impressed.

Astrid smiled widely. "Remote control."

Cid clapped his daughter hard on the back. "That's my girl! So you've come to get me to pilot one of the ships? Brilliant. When do we begin?"

"As soon as ye answer to the king 'bout ent'ring his castle withoot 'is leave," a surly dwarf announced from behind.

Rydia grimaced, and Cecil glared at Astrid. "And the inquiry begins," he muttered to her.

"Yes, yes, I'll do the explaining," she huffed.

"We are sorry for intruding," Cecil explained to the dwarf instead.

"Follow me," the dwarf instructed, gesturing them to follow him.

They were brought before the king and an odd assembly of guests. Kokkol was also in the throne room with his assistants, as well as the head nurse, and everyone turned at the entrance of the humans.

"You're back!" Luca cried, galloping down the runner with her pigtails flailing.

"This is a surprise," the king said, looking them up and down. "Master Cid, should you be up and about?"

"Good as new!" the engineer announced with a smile while his nurse scowled.

"But, I thought you had gone to the land of Mysidia," the king muttered. "Why have you returned? Has something gone ill?"

"It has been an odd turn of events, your majesty," Cecil told the dwarf king.

"Was the elder of Mysidia in possession of the ancient ship?" the king asked, frowning.

"He is aware of its existence, but he is seeking a way to find it," Cecil explained. "In the interim, we are making other preparations aboveground."

"Other preparations? What do you mean?"

"We have another fleet of airships making ready to mount an attack on the tower."

"More of those flying contraptions?" the king asked. "You think this will work?"

"If we succeed, they might not have to do anything at all. If we fail?" Cecil asked, shaking his head.

"Precautionary," the king mused. "Aye, this is wise. What need you of master Cid?"

"I'm to pilot one of the ships in the seige!" Cid announced proudly.

"And who is this other human with you?" the king asked, looking strangely at Astrid. "She has hair like fire!"

"I'm that one's daughter," Astrid explained, pointing at Cid.

The king glanced between the two of them. "Truly?" he asked.

"My own flesh and blood!" Cid declared.

"You have come for Cid only?" the king asked, sounding disappointed.

Astrid looked pointedly at Cecil, until Cecil took her meaning.

"Actually, your majesty, we have a proposition for you..."

0-0-0-0-0-0

"Very good," the king said, walking them to their airship. They had made plans for a contingent of dwarves to come aboard and join the war effort, and the king was to head their group. Kokkol had decided to walk with them out of interest for the airship itself, and he and Cid were getting along famously talking about its components.

Edge had climbed aboard the ship ahead of everyone and called down over the railing. "Astrid, why do we still have that lump of rock on the ship?"

"Rock? What rock?" Cid asked, looking at his daughter.

"Adamant," Astrid replied offhandedly, glaring at Edge on the deck. "Stop complaining, prince! It's not getting in your way."

"What—you've got ore? Adamant?" Kokkol sputtered excitedly.

The old man sprinted up the gangplank faster than anyone thought him capable. Astrid, realizing what she had said, out-ran him and shielded the heavy lump of rock with her body. "This is my ore, and I decide what's done with it," she insisted.

"It was my tail you traded it for," Rydia objected, following at a slower jog up the ramp.

"Do you know how many years I've spent looking for that ore?" Kokkol insisted. "Decades!"

"And my father has been looking for this ore to construct better equipment for his designs!" Astrid countered.

"I would make a sword to put all other swords to shame, and you want nothing more than to build a passing fancy—an object that will be but one in many and not survive the tests of time."

"I take offense to that!" Cid bellowed. "Just moments ago, you were telling me how brilliant a contraption these airships are!"

"That was before I knew you were planning on using such a rare metal for such frivolous purposes!" Kokkol replied, his feeble voice warbling in his excitement.

"How much of this ore do you even need?" Astrid wanted to know, looking sharply at the ore laying on the ship's deck.

Kokkol examined it shrewdly. "That depends on how much ore is contained in the rock itself—whether or not there are impurities—and being able to extract it cleanly..." he muttered to himself.

Astrid tapped her foot impatiently. "You need all of it, is what you're saying."

"Well, what I mean to say is, if we were to split the stone in half, there would be no guarantee that the portions of the ore would be equitable. I might be left with very little, while you, with an abundant supply."

"I can't let you keep all of it," Astrid replied heatedly. "Not after all the bartering I did for it."

Rydia glanced sideways at Astrid, wondering just how much bartering actually had taken place.

"We must come to some kind of agreement, then," Kokkol insisted. "I hold on to the ore, and use only what I need. What is left over, I will smelt and fashion into whatever you might need."

Astrid looked down her nose at the older man, considering his offer. "Done," she said at last.

"Astrid!" Cid huffed, staring at his daughter. "What makes you think you're in any position to make arrangements for such a rare material?"

Astrid turned on her father, both hands on her hips. "I'm the one who finished those ships—whose flown across the world for this mission—who came to the underworld to find you—and I'm the one who bartered for this ore. That puts me in precisely the position to be making arrangements," she argued.

Cid made a face, staring at his daughter in shock.

"Well, then. So long as he promises to spare me what I require, this deal sounds fair enough," Cid admitted reluctantly.

"Oh, good!" Kokkol exclaimed, hobbling over to the smooth, irregularly shaped rock, and directing his dwarf assistants to carry it for him off of the ship. Kokkol then approached Cecil, holding out his hand. "That sword of yours," he said expectantly.

Cecil looked at him, perplexed. "My—sword?" he asked. " You were serious? All of this trouble for a sword?"

Kokkol looked utterly offended. "Just a sword?" he sputtered. "This is not just for any sword! This is to anneal the metal of your legendary weapon with its match—to make the matchless metal. You give me that sword, and I'll leave you one that will put all other legends to shame!"

Cecil looked at Cid, baffled.

"Dunno about making a damn fine sword, but that metal'll make excellent tools and filaments," Cid said with a shrug.

Cecil reached for the sword at his side, prying it and its scabbard from his belt and handing it to the smith.

The old man looked fit to burst. He rushed off the ship, joining his assistants down below. "You won't regret this!" he assured them.

"I have not seen that man happy in many a great while," the king observed, scratching his beard, as he climbed aboard with his dwarves.

Cecil smiled helplessly. "I'm just happy to have that heavy material off of the deck," he said.

"We'd best be off," Cid announced, walking to the controls, as everyone else climbed aboard.

"This journey," the king asked. "Will it take long? I've never been off of the ground before, nor have I been above it."

"You'll love this, then!" Cid announced. "Don't you worry, I'll have us out of the underworld in a matter of hours."

The dwarves looked unsettled, but Rosa assured them they were in safe hands.

"Doubtful!" one of the dwarves said. "I saw him in the room of healin'! A real devil, he was!"

Rydia smiled, shaking her head, as Astrid, Cid, and Cecil all argued at the helm. After a few minutes, the argument was sorted, and Cid took over the ship, raising it from the ground with a tremendous effort. There were, after all, six humans and ten dwarves now aboard, and the propellers strained to free the ship of the earth's gravity.

Eventually, they did rise, and Cid flew them north to the great pile of rubble that had once been the mountains of Agart.

The dwarves huddled in the center of the ship, watching with consternation, as their homeland passed by below them.

"How exciting!" Cid bellowed as he directed them toward the light spilling into the underworld from the world above it. "Who knew a war could bring so many people together!"

Rydia glanced at the engineer, and then at the others on the deck of the ship. How odd but true his words were. They had all come from different places and different times, but somehow, they had all found themselves here—aboard this ship.

She smiled, as she felt a surge of defiance rise. For this brief moment, she felt invincible. Together, they were strong, an unstoppable force.

"For freedom!" Cid cried out fiercely, chuckling at his own battle cry.

"For freedom!" everyone echoed, hopeful in the face of their uncertain future.

0-0-0-0—0-0-0

A/N:

FOR FRODO! Oh wait, my bad.

O.M.G.

You guys...I don't even...20k?! But honestly. I have battled severe allergies, interesting reactions to meds, headaches, sleep deprivation, strange weather, and old age (lol), to bring you this chapter. I can't even believe I finished it before the end of October.

YAY! I hope you enjoyed it :)

It was...insanely fun to write.

But, referring back to the above, I know for a fact that there will probably be...misspelled words, missing parts of sentences, weird sentences, PLENTY of run-ons and other fun grammatical bastard children...I tried to edit this as I went, but...too overwhelming! I had to stop myself after a while because otherwise it would have taken me another month to get this chapter out. And...we can't have that!

AND. AND. Next chapter? WE'RE GOING TO THE MOON! I wanted to get the sidequests done in as few chapters as possible, which was why I didn't end up splitting this one (but now do you understand why I split the previous?).

Speaking of the sidequests...YES I know there are unresolved bits with the "spoon/knife" and the Excalibur, but those are still coming. I'm slipping them in later.

Also, I hope you'll forgive me for...skipping around with this chapter. I couldn't make myself go any slower—TOO MUCH to fit in. In moments, it reads like some kind of comedy skit, but...oh well. Had to keep things moving along. Plus, it meant a faster update; which, let's agree...we all want that.

Thank you so very much again for reading and reviewing!

Until next update...

~Myth