Outskirts of Meltokio

Midnight

The light of the torch was faint, providing an odd atmosphere for the trio as they sat huddled under the cover of the night. Zelos was leaning back against the wall, his arm wrapped firmly around Colette's shoulders as the two faced their storyteller, who had declined the offer to sit. He stood facing them, arms crossed over his waist as he paced up and down a short ten-step path he'd worn in the grass. No information had been passed just yet, leaving them in the midst of an awkward silence that no one was entirely sure how to break.

It was Colette who finally spoke, her voice no louder that the crackling embers overhead when she murmured, "Kuchinawa sent us to you. He said you would be the best person to approach for information about the Desians. Mizuho and the Renegades can't seem to get any information, and we don't have any leads. Kuchinawa told us you were a turncoat. Can you tell us how long ago you left their forces?"

Hector was unsurprised by their lead, and he chuckled inwardly at the thought of the crimson-garbed ninja who had put them through the coliseum challenge. He would have likely spoken to them regardless of their fighting strength, but he guessed that Kuchinawa wanted to prove their worth to him. He was amused by the antic, but decided it was best not to bring it up. Instead, he glanced down at the silver band adorning his left hand, and sighed as he answered her, "What you were told is correct. I originally served Cruxis, then the Renegades, while selling my knowledge to the Mizuho network in exchange for clemency in Meltokio for myself and my family. However, I have been out of contact with the Renegades and Cruxis for nearly two hundred years."

Zelos let out a whistle at the risky game Hector played, and he shook his head slightly as he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He appraised the dark-garbed knight with new respect as he remarked, "You played all the angles, huh? Mizuho would bargain with the king to grant you sanctuary in the city as long as you kept giving them all the information you got from the Renegades. And they'd probably know if you were conning them seeing as Mizuho would have a mole inside anyway, just to make sure. Brilliant spy work, I gotta say..."

"But why sell Mizuho information?" Colette piped up with a little frown as the thought of the Renegade leader who had never stepped a foot wrong when it came to protecting his men. "Wouldn't Yuan keep you safe?"

"I betrayed the Renegades, just as I betrayed Cruxis, which caused me to flee Sylvarant and turn to Tethe'alla instead." Hector explained without a hint of guilt for his treachery, and his arms tightened just a fraction over his chest when his eyes burned with a dark fire. He could sense the unease from the angels he was facing, but he didn't deny his nature. He'd long ago come to terms with himself. "The Renegades only recently called off the hunt for my blood, while Cruxis believes me dead. I cut my ties to them, but even so I keep my ears to the ground. I live a dangerous life."

Colette's eyes narrowed slightly as the thought of the fragile lavender-haired woman and their bubbly child entered her mind. She could tell Hector valued their lives above everything and anything in the world, and she couldn't fault him for it. She also knew without really knowing that it was because of them that he lived the life he did now. She let out a soft breath, speaking without meaning to, "I knew you were like Kratos..."

Hector's eyebrows raised as Zelos looked to her in surprise, and he shook his head as he corrected her, "No. I had a kinder hand dealt to me than Aurion."

"You must be old, if you know Kratos' story." Zelos remarked with a raised eyebrow, and Hector merely nodded in affirmation. His eyes narrowed slightly and all sense of levity faded from his face as he continued in a serious voice, "And you said you left the Renegades roughly two hundred years ago, too... So, you should know about the two who are currently working the Desians now. They can't have popped up out of nowhere. We need to know about Tasogare and Auin."

Hector blinked once, seeming to be honestly caught off guard for a moment at the names. He shook his head, and then with an age that didn't match his body, he slumped down into a seated position in the grass. He ran a gloved hand tiredly over his face, smoothing out his rumpled hair before he mused, "So, it's come to this...? Mere children? I would prefer to say I'm unsurprised... but they both did show promise as soldiers, even if they wouldn't be my prime candidates."

"So you do know them?" Colette questioned hastily, and she felt the excitement rising between herself and Zelos at the news. After so much time being in the dark, the prospect of getting ahead of their enemy left them both breathless with anticipation. "Who are they? Do you know anything about them at all?"

"Yes, I do know them... as for their backgrounds, I'm afraid I can't give you more than the little I know... but I suppose even a little bit is enough, isn't it?" Hector didn't wait for their answer, and he closed his eyes tightly as he went back in his memory to the point where he'd first met the two of them.

It had been a strange thing for him, even at the age of a thousand when he'd been shown the recruits that had bypassed the ranks of Desians entirely to be brought directly into Cruxis. He started there, not wanting to leave out anything for the two angels in front of him, "The two were from Tethe'alla, Ozette born. They were half-elves, and had started a minor rebellion with other half-elves to wipe out their families in an effort to assert superiority. The two siblings managed to scar the village to the point where the memory of their actions still remained in the form of half-elf intolerance centuries later."

"Siblings?" Colette echoed curiously, startled. She couldn't imagine any sibling having such a furious hatred for another, and she knew for a fact that Tasogare and the one called Auin were the most bitter of enemies. Presea and Kuchinawa had both attested to it, and she wouldn't doubt either of them. She shook her head, puzzled as she questioned, "But why are they at odds like they are if they're brother and sister?"

"I'm afraid I don't know that." Hector shook his head with resignation, inwardly chastising himself for never paying much attention to the youths. Tasogare was a brilliant young mind and an obedient soldier, but he hadn't cared for her. Auin was a bloodthirsty warrior with an imaginative mind for victory, but again, Hector hadn't favoured him. They were just new recruits, strangely brought on, but still more faces he didn't want to know. He scratched absently at nearly healed wound on his chin as he mused, "At first when they were both let into the ranks, I assumed perhaps it was some sort of petty rivalry. Both seemed eager to outdo the other in anything they did, and for awhile that was all they worked at... Then Yggdrasil discovered they had a distant relation to the Chosen of that generation."

Zelos stiffened instantly as several pieces of the puzzle fell perfectly into place with that one comment. His eyes narrowed and he shook his head as he growled out loud, "That's why she asked for the Mana Leaf Herb when she had Virginia hostage. She had the same disease Martel had, the same one you had, Colette. She was a Chosen."

Colette was vaguely aware of bile rising in her throat at the mere idea of the strange honey-eyed angel as a Chosen, but it was eclipsed by the equally strange feeling of kinship that surged in her heart. It was the same feeling she'd had when she'd really met Zelos, of meeting someone who knew the responsibilities of her position. Tasogare didn't fit any of the ideals that Colette thought of when she imagined a Chosen, but then again, she didn't consider herself Chosen-like either. She looked up to Hector, wanting an answer, "Was she a Chosen?"

"I guess you could say she was, but then again she really wasn't." Hector hedged, unsure of how to sufficiently answer such a question. He continued to itch at the fading cut he'd received in the coliseum, wanting to distract himself as he thought of how to properly word his response to her. Finally he just let out a sigh and replied brusquely, "A Chosen, to Yggdrasil, was just another means to an end. That end, as you know, was to revive Martel by placing her consciousness in the body of a person who held a close enough mana signature to her. However, a Chosen also is someone revered by the people of whichever world they were in at the time with significant political and monetary influence, depending of course if the world was flourishing or waning. Tasogare only fit the former definition, as her relation to that lineage was shaky at best. Her mother was the Chosen's cousin, but the relation was close enough that Yggdrasil felt it prudent to put Tasogare through the trials."

"Which she failed." Zelos finished with a knowing nod. Martel hadn't been resurrected in Tasogare's body, but he was a bit confused to why Yggdrasil would allow a failure to live, especially when she was infected with such a deadly disease. That however added yet another question, and Zelos asked it promptly, "Why is she still alive if she failed the trials? Plus, why is she still suffering from the toxicosis? Couldn't she have been treated with a Rune Crest like Colette and Martel were?"

"She was meant to be given one, however she was late in her trial when the toxicosis came upon her." Hector shook his head and for the briefest moment, something akin to sympathy glittered in his eyes. He folded his hands under his chin, his voice low and quiet as he explained, "Yggdrasil was furious over the failure of the recent Chosen, and was confident that Tasogare's mana signature was a close enough match to Martel to make for a successful revival. He believed that the onset of the infection was just one more sign that he was correct, and so he pushed her forward without treating her. By the time the revival had taken place and Martel failed to take hold..."

"The infection was too far gone, and the Rune Crest couldn't contain it properly." Colette whispered, and she found her eyes tearing up as she felt the agony the brunette angel must have lived with as she suffered underneath the disease. Colette could well remember the pain, the creeping fire and ice that the growing scales from her Cruxis Crystal had burned into her flesh. She had been lucky that only her shoulder and part of her chest had been affected, and though she still bore the faintest scarring from the infection... She couldn't imagine how much more painful it would be to be far into the infection and be without a cure. "That's so terrible..."

"She was a good soldier, and perhaps that was what made Yggdrasil spare her when Martel didn't take to her body." Hector shrugged a little, looking uncomfortable with Colette's sympathetic pain. Zelos too didn't seem pleased with the emotional response, but he was keeping a leash on his words which pleased and bothered Hector. He continued on, not wanting to stop on the thought, "Regardless of why she was kept alive, she was treated with the Rune Crest, given an ample amount of Mana Leaf Herb to continue treating herself, and continued her active service. Auin was displeased with what he considered favouritism, and called loudly for her to be killed like all of the other failures. He was silenced quickly, but... the seeds of their angry relationship had been sown. If they were rivals then, they were bitter enemies afterwards."

"Jealousy taken to its extreme." Zelos muttered with a disgruntled scowl and clench of his fists. The information only proved what they had assumed about the unrest in the factions underneath Tasogare and Auin, but he wasn't sure how it would really help them. Tasogare's movements were odd and unpredictable, but at least he knew that Auin likely wouldn't be the one they wanted to side with if they chose to side with either sibling at all in an attempt to usurp the Desian army. "After that I guess they really started trying to take each other out... and they've been at it ever since?"

"As far as I can recall, yes. However my interest in them was gone after the failed revival. I must admit I didn't care for either of the two at all." Hector smiled almost sheepishly, as if embarrassed to admit he was uninterested. Truly he wished he'd paid more attention if he had known they would come back to be such fixtures in the future, but he had never assumed someone like them would be more than a simple annoyance. "Auin was a lout with a flair for dramatics and violence, and Tasogare was a cold and arrogant young woman who treated everyone about her as dirt. Of course, they were at home with the idiots who called themselves superior beings, but you understand what I mean. They were just more soldiers under my command, and at that time I had no love for any of my men."

"You left Cruxis shortly after they joined, eh?"

Hector smiled weakly, but nodded at the accurate guess. He settled into an easier posture, resting his hands behind him as he looked up to the sky and remembered his youth as a Cruxis soldier in the throes of disillusion with what he'd thought was once a grand cause. "I was confused and bitter... It was true I felt cheated as a half-elf, but that feeling did not translate easily to hatred or superiority. I did want things to change... but not by violence. It was then that I was approached by Yuan, and offered a way to change and bring down Cruxis in the process. I was gleeful for the opportunity... but in short order, I was just as quickly awakened to the reality that they were not as great as I thought either. I could not condone the murder of Chosens simply because Yggdrasil was using them."

Colette's eyes narrowed slightly as she sensed he wasn't telling the entire truth. She believed he had become fed up with both Cruxis and the Renegades, but the reasoning wasn't entirely there. She leaned forward, and before she could stop herself from asking the question she had no right to ask she was speaking, "But that isn't why you left the Renegades. There was some other reason, wasn't there?"

Zelos glanced at her in surprise at the uncharacteristic prying, and Colette's face immediately burned crimson at her words. She raised her hands over her mouth and shook her head, wanting to apologize just as much as she wanted the real answer. She parted her lips, ready to scramble for forgiveness but to her intense shock, Hector burst out laughing instead of growing angry. His entire body shook with his mirth, and he had to cover his face with one hand as tears sprung to his dark eyes in his fit of laughter.

It took a few minutes for him to calm down, but once he did he looked square at Colette with a gaze of fondness. The blond squeaked a little and reddened even more, but the look of tenderness didn't escape Hector's eyes. He shook his head, still grinning as he explained with a hint of a chuckle, "You remind me much of my wife, Florina. I think you two would have gotten along well, had you met her properly." His laughter faded slightly, turning to seriousness as he answered her honestly now, "But it is true, I did not leave the Renegades simply because of a disagreement of methods. I left because I met the most beautiful creature I had ever seen in the midst of her quest to regenerate the world."

"Your wife was a Chosen!" Colette exclaimed in complete and utter horror as the full weight of what Hector had done when he left the Renegades crashed down on her. She realized that her assumption of his being much like Kratos hadn't been that far off, even though Hector had done something similar many years before Kratos had. "How did you...? How is she...?"

"Still alive?" Hector chuckled a bit at the question that Colette was floundering for, and he smiled slightly as he explained for her confusion, "Much like me, she used the Cruxis Crystal she was given upon completing the ritual to halt her growth." He nodded to Zelos, who was staring at him with an unfathomable expression while Colette glanced down at the Cruxis Crystal located just beneath the hallow of her throat at his words, "Yourself and your companion could do the same if you wished to with some practise and the proper instruction. It is not all that different from the crystals myself and many other angels were equipped with."

For a moment Zelos wasn't sure who was more shocked by that thought, himself or Colette. The blond angel was regarding her Cruxis Crystal as if she had never seen it before, and even Zelos had to glance at his hand to fully digest the words Hector was speaking. He'd never even once given thought to the powers of his crystal, that he could do the same as Kratos or Yggdrasil could if he wanted to. Immortality wasn't just a wish he could have on an errant day, it was actually within his grasp if he wanted it. "That's..."

Hector's eyes grew stormy as he if he could read the thoughts of shock going through the two angels before him. All sense of laughter and levity faded from him as he leaned forward and spoke with a firm seriousness coating each and every one of his words, "You must know the pain that comes with leaving behind time. I watched my brothers and sisters wither and die behind me, though they were half-elves like myself. My wife has seen all of her family pass on from this world to the next because of her decision, and she forever has blamed herself for it. I was cursed with the blood of a half-elf, and would outlive her for many years because of it, and she refused to leave me behind. So she chose to halt her time and remain with me... but when we had our daughter, we came to a decision. Florina did away with her crystal, while I still use mine, but much differently now."

Colette's eyes widened as she understood immediately what he was doing, and a feeling of sickness curled into her stomach. It explained why his wounds from that afternoon had healed, and why his growth of a beard seemed to have come in more quickly than she'd originally assumed. He wasn't halting his growth or slowing it anymore, he was doing the exact opposite. "You're speeding up time, aren't you? So you can age like a human would."

"So you can die with her." Zelos whispered so softly it was almost as if he hadn't spoken. He had never thought that such a power as to halt aging would ever be used in reverse, but he understood the logic behind it. Hector loved his family, and he wouldn't survive without them. So instead of letting his body run its natural course and leaving him alive years after his family had died... He was shortening his life so he could die with them. "You..."

"I love my wife." Hector said with a simple shrug, and there was no remorse or regret to him when he spoke the truth. He had long ago decided what he would do when he'd discovered Florina pregnant, and he'd come to terms with the fate he'd chosen for himself. He watched the two staring at him with newfound respect, and tried his best not to smile at them as he replied softly, "There are many things, both illogical and relatively foolish that a person will do for love. Maybe it will not make sense to others, and it may even anger some... but as long as you know what you are doing... and as long as you feel it is right... That is all that matters."

Colette knew he wasn't talking about himself anymore, and her face began to redden at once as she suddenly felt Zelos' hand on top of hers. He intertwined his fingers with hers, leaving her heart fluttering like a hummingbird's wings as she became short of breath. She didn't dare look at him with Hector watching them so, but she squeezed Zelos' hand firmly as she nodded her head solemnly. Love didn't make a lot of sense, and she knew a lot of what she did wasn't exactly the logical way to behave... but when Zelos held her hand like he did and sat so close at her side... She didn't really care. She was in love, and that was all that mattered to her.

Latheon Gorge

Late Night

The ground was stained with blood that was as black as the night that surrounded the two combatants, but even breathless and wounded, the male of the two refused to yield. Razor-sharp daggers rent cloth and flesh with every swipe, and each blow was met with iron-clad fists that could shatter armour and bone whenever it made contact. Their breath misted in the unnaturally cool air, hot with their exertion and battle as they parted for a brief moment. The slighter of the two had leapt atop a fallen boulder, seemingly unwounded while the other had his left arm dangling useless at his side.

Growling, he made to advance upon her only to be stopped when she called out sharply, "Enough! I have no desire to kill you, but if you push your luck any further I will not be responsible for what I do next. Lower your hands or I will remove them for you."

The taller man laughed hoarsely, his grassland eyes flickering with hatred for the cloaked angel who had sent his brother to his untimely death. He slowly shook his head from side to side, raising his good arm and cocking back the fist decorated with glowing iron knuckles. His voice was rough with adrenalin and pain as he snapped back in return, "No desire to kill me? Does that make me one of your pawns, milady? Like Dvalinn? I see how well you treat those in your care. I've no desire to be your puppet to dance for your pleasure."

"Yet while your brothers chase the Heroes, you've tracked me here." Tasogare replied with something approaching a sneer at the bold denial. She didn't shift into a battle position, but called out instead with dark sort of humour, "You may not be dancing to my tune, but you certainly are performing for someone. Tell me, did my dear brother send you after me? Or maybe it was Yggdrasil, demanding my head for losing sight of Irving? Whomever it was, I'm sure you didn't decide on your own to come after me. Turn around, find the real murderer of your brother if you are that adamant to cut your strings."

"I have found the real murderer." Duraþròr answered without acknowledging her correct guess. Auin had indeed pushed him into pursuing the traitor, but he would have gone after her regardless. He knew she had led his brother into dying for her, so she could flee the Temple of Lightning instead of standing her ground and laying waste to the two Chosen and ninja of Mizuho she should have killed months ago. "I will kill you and exact part of the revenge my brothers and I are seeking."

"You lack the skill. You will join Dvalinn in his grave, and leave your brothers with one more to mourn." Tasogare replied in a matter-of-fact tone that belied her warning for him to leave her be. Her golden eyes were molten as she continued in that same and flat voice, "You know this as well as I do. Even near death, I still would be able to lay waste to you. I will warn you once more to leave me. I will not give you a third chance. It is your blood that stains the ground, not mine."

Duraþròr knew she was right at that, but he was past caring about his physical wounds. He had been advised to sneak up on her and end her before she could fight back, but he was a warrior. He would duel her fairly, as his brother's memory deserved, even if it meant his own death. She had merely been parrying him up until now, buying herself time while slowly but surely exhausting and injuring him. If she decided to kill him, he would have no hope in surviving.

Still, he raised his good arm up and spat at the ground in response to her offer. He would not be a coward and flee like she had. His blood meant nothing if he didn't honour his brother. It was the oath they'd all sworn together as mercenaries many centuries ago, and he'd uphold it to the netherworld. "I will need no third offer, Tasogare. I will have your head."

"You are a fool, then." Tasogare stated with a dark scowl, and to his surprise, she sheathed her daggers inside of her cloak. Her golden eyes had turned to chips of ice, and she placed her hand calmly on the sheathe of her sword and gripped it tight without drawing the blade. "I will do you the honour of killing you at my full strength, but that is the only mercy you will receive from me. Whatever pain you feel was brought down by your own hand."

Duraþròr felt no fear, despite the warning alarm that told him to turn and flee as she flexed her arm in preparation to draw the sword that had always left every soldier who saw it whispering. He knew the rumours, knew the obscure legend that supposedly surrounded the blade, but he didn't care. She would come at him, and he would fight her and die trying to reclaim the dignity she'd taken from him and his family. It was his way. He clenched his fists, and with a snarl he challenged her, "Come at me, you traitorous bitch!"

With a click so soft it couldn't be heard over their breathing, Tasogare freed her sword from its confines with one effortless tug. The shimmering blade seemed to laugh as it was exposed to the night air, and gently, almost like a heartbeat, it pulsed within her hand. Light radiated from the reflected surface giving no clue to the blade's true colour, but it was surrounded by a pulsing red miasma that engulfed the hand that carried it until it seemed to envelop the angel entirely. Tasogare's eyes grew dull, and robotically her other hand moved to grab a hold of the blade's handle and steady it. Her voice rang out, but it was no longer hers when it whispered in an eerie and murderous chuckle, "You should have ran."

In a movement too fast to be caught by Duraþròr's eyes, she was gone from the boulder and seemingly materialized before him. He had no chance to move, and she took a single step backwards, bringing her sword level with her shoulder as she sank down into a crouch. Then her foot moved forward, and turning her body she thrust the blade into his unprotected chest.

An anguished bellow escaped the fatally wounded angel, but he struck back even as he felt his strength fading away and his consciousness slipping. His iron-knuckled fist slammed with all the force he had into Tasogare's chest, but the blow barely seemed to register. She held her blade where it was, and knelt down with him when his legs refused to keep him upright. He fell onto his back, guided by the sword that pierced him through and could only stare numbly up into the eyes of the angel who seemed possessed.

The cursed sword pulsed quicker now, like a heartbeat picking up speed in response to a flow of adrenalin. It flashed crimson as Duraþròr shuddered in agony and reached vainly to dislodge the steel puncturing his heart. Out of hallow eyes she watched as his hands failed to even reach the sword, and in the depths of her throat that ghostly chuckle came again. Abruptly she slammed all of her weight on the blade, sending the keen edge slicing upwards and through his heart in a quick and merciless move. Duraþròr's cry of agony ended before it could begin, and with one last shake he fell back limp against the ground and moved no more.

There was a long moment as Tasogare knelt beside the body, keeping her sword where it was. The pulsing of the red haze grew quicker and quicker before stopping altogether in a dull flash. The miasma disappeared with the pulse, and with it returned the flicker of life to Tasogare's eyes. She let them close for another beat, before pushing herself to her feet and releasing her grip on the instrument of death.

Tasogare gazed down at the prone body of her opponent, meeting the unseeing stare of the former mercenary. Her stare hardened with anger as she took in the oozing line her sword had drawn in the angel's chest before stopping at the blade that remained buried within him. Without a sound she took her blade from his chest and then wiped it clean on the patch of grass that cushioned the corpse. When she was sure it was clean, she slid it back into its sheathe with a near-silent click.

Again she knelt, and with a hand that could almost be described as gentle, reached over to close the still staring eyes. She bowed her head for a moment, and murmured to the soft breeze that fluttered her hair, "May whatever god or goddess you prayed to take you quickly to where you belong."

When she stood once more, she paused as she realized the voice of her blade had quieted. She let out a dark laugh, a bitter one as she noted it was finally sated after months of screaming and protest. She would be able to control herself once more without too much effort when her temper flared. Her eyes were drawn to the ancient scabbard that hid the cursed weapon, and she asked to it sarcastically, "Has the blood quenched your thirst, Tyrfing?"

Even as she spoke, she didn't expect an answer. The curse of the sword had no manifestation of consciousness to reply, but the malevolence of the dwarfs, of the smiths slaughtered to make it, seemed to snap at her voice. She turned her back on the corpse it had left behind, feeling a twinge inside her chest in a tiny spark of guilt for his death. More needless deaths that she couldn't prevent.

"You will leave miles of corpses behind you in a vain attempt to kill a single man."

Without hesitation, she met those cataract-glazed eyes and spoke the words she had been prepared to say when she had learned of the right of initiation. Her heart was cold to empathy, to any type of emotion as a hundred men died and cursed their fates at her hand within her head. They didn't matter to her. None of them. "I do so willingly."

"You will forfeit your soul."

A pittance to claim the life of the one who'd torn her home asunder. Though he could not see her, she felt her eyes sharpen as she continued the ritual and the words that would bind her to the blade as the blade bound itself to her,"Again, I do so without regret."

"You will never again see your family, who have all gone on to their final rest."

For a brief instant, she stumbled. It was the one thing she hated to think of, to be denied seeing her family once her own death was assured. However she couldn't let their murderer live, even if it meant condemning herself. She took a breath, steeling the last remains of her heart for the fire she would soon burn it in as she answered, "I understand."

"Then I will ask you once more, as is my duty as the sword's keeper. You truly are willing to die for this campaign of yours?"

This she didn't care for. Her life had ended that night when she'd slipped and fell on the pools of crimson blood that had soaked her home, her feet and clothes when she sat there in a terrified stupor. They were gone, and with them she had gone though her body still breathed. Her hands clenched tight, her fingernails puncturing the skin of her palms as she spoke the truth,"I was dead the moment their last breaths were robbed from them."

"Very well. Take the blade, take the curse, and die as it demands of you."

A strained sigh escaped her lips, and she looked up to the darkened night sky that was peppered with stars. The constellations did not glow as they used to, as if shunning her of their brilliance for the blood upon her hands. She shook her head, casting away the guilt she felt and the anger at being used by the blade once more. It didn't matter how many she killed in her quest, who she used or what she broke. Her death was assured anyway, and if she could reach her goal, that was all that really had importance.

She glared up at the sky, at the black velvet night that was so much like that cursed time when she'd come home just too late... Her voice punctured the silence, heavy with controlled fury and determination as she repeated the vow she'd uttered so many times before, "For them, Auin... I will kill you, and every single man, woman or beast you send to stop me."

Meltokio

Zelos' Manse

Late Night

Sheena closed her eyes as she inhaled a deep breath of the cool night air, and in the same movement her body slumped against the staircase she had hidden herself next to. The porch was too open for her, and so she'd slunk down into the grass to relax when sleep had evaded her hours earlier. The brisk autumn night had invited her outside, and seeking silence and fresh air she had taken the offer.

'I wonder when Zelos and Colette will be back...' She turned her gaze to the sky, seeking the sight of the stars. It was a futile effort as the cloudy night refused to let the velvet black sky be seen, and with a sigh of defeat Sheena wrapped her arms about her knees. The two's odd problems in the past week had caused everyone a lot of worry, though no one was entirely sure what had caused it. Seles refused to speak about it, preferring to spend her time with Noishe. The two had taken greatly to each other much to Sheena's amusement, and Seles had already petitioned her brother to allow Noishe to stay in the mansion when they left to travel again.

As if her thoughts had summoned him, Sheena turned as she heard the familiar whining at the top of the porch. She ambled to her feet, smiling automatically at the sight of the protozoan at the top of the stairway. He was gazing down at her with lifted ears and a happy glint in his eyes, and when she laughed his tail began to wag. His fur had been combed clean, and though it had yet to begin shining as it used to, the ancient beast did look much healthier. He took the stairs gingerly, still favouring his back leg as he joined her in the grass.

Noishe whined softly as he lay his great head in her lap when she sat back down, and she brushed her bandaged hand lovingly through his fur. He nuzzled against her stomach, his tail rhythmically thumping against the ground in pleasure. His intelligent eyes fixed on her hand, and he angled his head before licking her fingers. He had made a habit of doing that whenever he saw her, and Sheena knew it was his apology for attacking her.

"How many times do I need to tell you that it's okay?" Sheena scolded him softly, but she didn't try to stop him. Since he'd been found, the protozoan had dutifully patrolled the halls of the manse where they made their vacation home. Without fail every morning, Sheena would find him curled up beside her bed, having been guarding her while she slept. Despite their attempts to make sure he slept somewhere comfortable and stayed off of his injured leg, he'd be at it again and eventually Raine had simply stopped trying. Sheena mused it was his sense of loyalty that made him keep at it, as his stint in the wilderness had probably scared and scarred him.

She kept her eyes trained on the cloudy night above, wondering absently what sort of answers the two angels would return with. Everyone was putting their hopes in the strange coliseum entrant and his knowledge, and Sheena admitted to being one of them. She was tired of fighting blind, and was eager to have an advantage again.

'And I want to know... Why Lloyd is with them...' The thought crept into her brain despite her every effort to quash it, and the pain that followed in her chest was crippling. She raised a hand to her heart, as if trying to keep it inside of her ribs and grimaced at her body's reaction to the memory of the betrayal. She had thought she'd kept a tightly shut lid on her emotions, but without fail her heart didn't seem to agree. 'I think I'm just destined to be the stupid girl who keeps on tripping up for the rest of my life... For once I'd like to see something through to the end without screwing up in one way or another.'

A low growling from the creature in her lap jolted her from her thoughts, and Sheena felt her body coil as Noishe glared out into the darkness of the alleyway. Slowly he ambled to his feet, his teeth glinting white in the shadow as he continued to voice the warning that there was danger nearby. Trusting him implicitly, Sheena reached into her sleeves to grasp one of her battle cards as he stood at the protozoan's side to do battle with him.

He sank into a crouch and his ears lay flat against his head as he pointed his entire body like an arrow in the direction of the darkest alley. His hackles raised as he bared his teeth, but Sheena rested a gentle, reproachful, hand on the back of his neck. His muscles remained coiled but he did relax ever so slightly at her touch even if he continued to growl in warning to the figure he'd scented ghosting in the shadows.

Eyes narrowing, Sheena debated on venturing out to catch the ghost unawares on her own but when she felt Noishe's fur bristling again she decided against it. The protozoan may have retained his gentleness around his friends, but the experience in the wild had turned part of his heart brutal. She didn't doubt he'd spring for the throat of whoever dared to harm her or any of his loved ones, and she refused to have him in that position again.

Her voice was low as she carefully knelt at his side, wrapping a protective but restraining arm about his wide neck, "Calm down, Noishe." His ear flicked, brushing against her cheek in response to her words, but his growling refused to cease. She sighed but kept her hold on him, and turned her gaze to the dark alleyway that the houses of the nobles eclipsed. A faint stirring of a shadow among a shadow warned her that the stranger was closer than she'd have preferred, but she kept herself squatting beside Noishe to soothe his anxiety.

With an arm pressing warningly against Noishe's side, Sheena carefully fingered the sharp edge of her card as she called out firmly into the silent night, "You better come out instead of skulking around. I can't hold him back forever, and if you want something twice the size of a wolf coming at you, be my guest. If he doesn't kill you, I certainly will."

A little chuckle followed her promise, and from the darkness seemingly materialized an ebony-armoured soldier. Sheena recognized the Desian-esque attire at once, and she relaxed slightly as she recognized one of the many Renegade soldiers who had been trading information with the ninja of Mizuho. His voice was polite as he bowed his head in her direction, and from under his helm Sheena caught a glimpse of friendly ice-coloured eyes, "I apologize for the secrecy, Sheena of Mizuho, but the package I carry for you required the utmost of subtlety. It has travelled far and quickly from Asgard to reach your hands, and I will not incur the wrath of the sender by undermining his strict orders."

Though part of her was rubbed the wrong way by his light delivery, the other was too greatly intrigued to make a sour note. She couldn't think of anyone in Asgard who would need to give her something right away and in such privacy, and so she straightened smoothly and approached him with more ease. Noishe followed her every step, attached at her hand, and though he'd stopped growling his fur remained on end and his teeth still bared in case the stranger made any sudden movements. "A package? What sort of package?"

The soldier reached inside of his armour, and fiddled with something for a moment before lifting out a palm-sized square of thick and coarse cotton. He pulled aside the layer, and with a deft flick of his wrist sent the object flying towards the ninja, and with his movement the object rang out cheerfully in the air.

Sheena automatically reached for it, her eyes widening as her ears picked up the familiar tinkling noise of the bell that had once been wrapped about the neck of her best friend. The golden trinket landed in her outstretched palm, and for a moment Sheena wasn't sure if she was dreaming. The gold-coloured steel felt warm against her skin, and the thin silver chain she had threaded through the bell to make it into a necklace remained just as she remembered. Her throat closed as a tidal wave of emotion crashed over her, leaving her speechless as her fingers stroked around the precious memento she had believed lost when she'd been let free of her torture chambers.

Unbidden she was taken back to the moment when she had realized the bell was gone from her throat, and the feeling of terror and agony that had left her wanting to cry out all over again. Colette had been baffled for a moment when she'd seen the tears spring anew in her eyes, but when she'd seen the naked place where the necklace had always been, she understood. When Corrine had died, Sheena had fashioned the bell, the only physical link that remained of the tiny fox-like creature, into a necklace and taken to wearing it. Her footsteps were always marked by the gentle chime, a reminder of the Spirit that had been her first friend. Losing the bell had been like losing Corrine all over again.

Noishe gave the softest of whines and nuzzled against her side, jolting her from the painful memories and bringing her back to reality. With her free hand she rubbed behind his ears as she turned the bell over in her hands, savouring the feel of the smooth metal and the soft chime that followed its movement. Her feeling of pleasure was squelched abruptly when she noted the sound was dulled by something blocking the bell. Holding it up, Sheena spied the tiny piece of paper stuck inside, and she fished it out easily as the messenger spoke as he spotted her unfolding the paper, "The person who gave the bell to another soldier warned that no one but you was to read the missive. It has been untouched, you can be assured."

Sheena only barely heard him as her heartbeat picked up speed inside of her chest as the tiny letter lay flat within her palm beside the bell. The sound of its thudding drowned out the noise around her, and she knew the messy scrawl as well as she knew her own reflection when she read the eight words silently to herself.

Where the Heart lies, I wait for you.

For a moment she felt only confusion as she reread the riddle, and part of her cursed the secrecy that the author continued to shroud himself in. She found herself wishing she was with him, if only to throttle him for everything he was putting her and their friends through. The other half of her though made her hold the paper and bell to her chest, closing her eyes as the tiny spark of hope she'd carried burst into a fully fledged flame. He was reaching out to her, and that was enough to earn her trust again. 'Lloyd...'

Closing her hands around the precious gifts, Sheena opened her eyes and met the polite gaze of the soldier who'd yet to leave. He sensed she had questions, and not wanting to keep him waiting she asked him bluntly, "Who exactly sent this to me?"

"A young half-elf by the name of Harley."

"Did he tell the soldier where he got a hold of this bell?"

"He was mum on that." The answer came crisply, as if he'd been waiting to be grilled on the facts. He was only apologetic that he had so few to give to the obviously disturbed ninja. He kept his back straight and eyes focussed on hers, showing his training as a soldier as he continued on, "The message was simple; 'Get this bell to Sheena Fujibayashi immediately'. He said it was a matter of intense importance, and no one was willing to risk keeping you waiting. Lord Yuan would have our heads if we failed to move quickly enough."

"Of course he would." Sheena laughed mirthlessly, but her mind was spinning and didn't allow her to really take in the attempt at levity. She knew no one personally in Asgard, but had met once or twice with a trio of people that Lloyd and the others had been with before. The name she'd been told was mildly familiar even though she could put no face to it, and assumed that Lloyd had likely been running out of people to trust to get the bell to her without doing it himself and rousing suspicion. She let out a tired sigh, then shook her head apologetically as she murmured, "Thank you for getting this to me. It... was important."

"It was my pleasure, milady." The soldier gave a dramatic bow, and Sheena spied the strange look that passed over his eyes when he glanced at the bell once more. He smiled at her from underneath his helmet, and when she held the bell just a little more tighter to her chest he chided her with a friendly chuckle, "You aren't the only one with loved ones, Sheena of Mizuho. I am glad to do someone in love a service, even if it was within my duty to do it. Take care."

"You too." Sheena returned the words honestly, and watched him for a moment as he turned back and melted into the shadows once more. Letting out another long sigh, Sheena relaxed her body and studied the note again as Noishe pressed himself against her side and sniffed curiously at the bell in her other hand. She examined the note once more, mumbling aloud to herself, "First he leaves me his ring, then he disarms me in the temple, and now he's sending me back Corrine's bell and leaving me a half-assed riddle? What the hell is he thinking?"

She wasn't sure how long she stood in the silence of the night, pondering the riddle she'd been given and the bell along with it. It wasn't like Lloyd to lead anyone on a merry chase for answers. He was much too straight-forward for that. Though as Sheena stared down at the bell in her hand, she had to muse that nothing concerning the swordsman recently had been in character. The words she stared at seemed to be leaping from the scrap of paper they were written on, urging her to realize their meaning.

"So, he wants to meet me... He's waiting for me..." Sheena murmured out loud, hoping that talking to herself would make the destination Lloyd had given to her all the more clearer. Noishe continued sniffing at the bell, whining softly as if he knew the significance of the trinket and the puzzle in her hand. She stroked his fur listlessly, repeating the message curiously, "'Where the Heart lies'...? The heart? What does that..."

Though she did not move, Corrine's bell gave a soft ring and brought her eyes down to it. The golden steel seemed to pulse, responding to her voice before it faded away, leaving only a lasting impression of warmth that did not come from her skin or the body heat of the man who'd carried it to her. Sheena's eyes widened in understanding, and she whispered, "Heart. Thank you Corrine!"

Hastily shoving the paper into her pocket, Sheena fastened the necklace around her throat where it belonged and stared out at the dark street where she knew Zelos and Colette should have been coming to meet her. She felt guilty for what she was going to do, but the bell at her throat warmed her and bolstered her confidence. Lloyd was waiting for her, and for the answers he owed and her own selfish reasoning, she wasn't going to make him wait. Sheena leaned down to kiss Noishe on the forehead, and with the old confident smile she had almost forgotten spreading across her lips, she told her faithful companion, "Alright, boy, you ready? We've got an old friend to beat up then bring back with us!"

With his eyes shining brightly and his tail wagging to and fro, Noishe barked happily in assent and followed her back into the mansion. She had a few things to do first, but he didn't mind the few minutes it would take before he'd be racing through the wind just underneath her Rheaird as they headed to the place where the journey had begun so many months ago.

AN:

Pfft, I had always wanted to leave a chapter like that, but never had a real chance to. It sounds so corny, but it's also so epic that I couldn't resist. XD I'm such a loser. Anyway, I figured Lloyd wouldn't just outright tell her to go to where he was waiting, just in case the message got intercepted but I had a very hard time thinking of what he could say to get Sheena moving on her own without needing help from anybody. Then it hit me, and I started laughing at the blockage that made it impossible to write for the past few days. I'm an idiot. 8D

And so, Tasogare's sword finally gets its name shown, and for anybody actually interested... Tyrfing is an actual blade described in Norse mythology. I'd recommend going to Wikipedia or any other site if you want to know the actual myth, which I tried to follow as close as possible why also putting my own personal spin on. And while I'm telling you what myths and legends I've added in this story, the four Fallen brothers are also taken from Norse myth, as the deer (or something of the like) that fed on the branches of the great Yggdrasil, though Duraþròr's name got a bit screwed up by FFN's word-processor. I had a lot of fun doing that, but there of course is always more to follow. I enjoyed Symphonia's playing with Nordic legends (Riviera actually did a lot of that too, which had me laughing hysterically at some points since I played ToS first) and wanted to chuck in a few more shout-outs while I worked on this particular story. I wonder if anyone will catch all of the stuff I've thrown in.

Mood: Eager

Listening To: "Bink's Sake" - Brooke and Crew (One Piece, Episode 380)

~ Sky