FATIMA JASPER
By:
Justin Rose and Michelle Stryjewski
Esor82@hotmail.com
phoenix_85@hotmail.com
Author's Notes: This story came out of ideas for an earlier story of Justin's. He never wrote down the other story, so it's not as if you need to read that one (since it was never posted anywhere) to understand this one. This takes place roughly 2 years after the end of the game. Scene changes will be denoted by asterisks and flashbacks will be denoted by little squiggly lines. We're writing this together since Justin has no computer. Therefore, the duty of typing and cowriting has fallen to me, Michelle. Also, this is a "romantic dramedy" so don't be surprised if some of the lines seem somewhat out of place, particularly remarks about Maria and Chu-Chu. Oh, and the thought of Bart and Margie being first cousins and getting married truly frightened us, so we made them second cousins. One last thing, if you've ever played Xenogears you know just how confusing that game is, so please don't send us any flames telling us that we messed up continuity, since we're willing to bet that you don't know what really happened either. Unless you have the Perfect Works Book, in which case we bow to your superior wisdom.
***
Bledavik, royal capital of the once-proud desert kingdom of Aveh. Bartholomew Fatima was standing in the highest tower in the royal palace of Aveh, looking over his kingdom. Whenever he ventured outside, he had to wear the royal robes and dress of a king, but inside he preferred to wear his pirate-like clothes to which he'd grown accustomed. His braided blonde hair hung in his left eye, and he had to push it away. In just two short years, Bledavik was well on its way to becoming the bustling and lively town it once was.
Bart stood and began to descend the long winding staircase that led from the tower to the castle itself. His mind drifted as it often did to thoughts about his friends. Fei and Elly had moved to Lahan to help the survivors rebuild. On their most recent visit to Bledavik, they brought a surprise with them: three-month old, Khan Eric Wong. Emeralda had recently gone to join her "parents" to see if she still had a place in their family.
Citan, or rather Hyuga, had been spending most of his time experimenting with new energy sources. His solar panels were already beginning to gain widespread use throughout all of Ignas. But his attempts to experiment with chemical energy had caused the neighbors to call the police several times for noise violations. Yui kept herself busy tending to her and Hyuga's son, while Midori began to spend more time with her father.
Jesiah had gone back to the orphanage with Billy and Primera in order to care for the orphans left in the Deus war, and to try to heal the old wounds between him and his son. Surprisingly enough, Dominia had joined Billy in his efforts to care for the children, and was soon joined by a jaded and broken Ramsus. After Deus, he had disappeared for a while, and no one knew to where. But now he was helping Billy, because he too had been "orphaned" when he was young.
Rico had been made the Kaiser of Kislev rather unwittingly. He wasn't paying much attention when they made that decision. Many of the Kislev survivors were battlers who obstinately still viewed him as Champ. They made him out to be a hero, and he was thrust into greatness, but his first official decision as Kaiser was to abolish the inhumane practices of the D-Block collars.
Tragedy had fallen a year after the end of Deus when Maria and Chu-Chu were crushed by Seibzhen in a freak accident. They had been trying to move the enormous gear, when the tensile wire broke and the hulking monstrosity began to fall. Maria tried to save her pink and furry friend but they were both crushed under Seibzhen's massive weight.
Bart, after returning to Bledavik, tried to honor his father's final wishes and formally established the Republic of Aveh. It failed, and quite miserably at that, since those appointed became greedy and corrupt, and if left to their own devices, Aveh would have become their personal piggy bank. Since he had revealed himself as the former crown prince, the people all looked to Bart for leadership. More and more decisions came to him, until he became king in deed if not in name. So, finally he dissolved the Republic. The official coronation took place several days later. It was a great celebration, the likes of which no one in Aveh had ever seen. Yet Bart did not totally abandon the ideals of a republic; he established a Council of Representatives with Sigurd as its Prime Minister.
His only regret was that he had not been able to spend more time with Margie. After the coronation ceremony their duties towards Aveh and Nisan respectively took their attentions away from their budding relationship. The most that they had been able to do was to steal quick kisses in between official functions. But hopefully that would change after today.
Bart strolled into Sigurd's office. The older silver-haired Prime Minister sat behind his desk. Sigurd looked up from his work when he heard his door open, and he saw his younger brother fidgeting in the door frame.
"Hey, Sig," Bart said meekly.
"Hello, little brother," Sigurd replied. "So, today's the big day, huh?"
"Uh...yeah."
"Why are you so nervous? You've faced everything from evil dictators to gods! So why are you so nervous about a little thing like this?"
"Well, this is...different!"
"How?"
"Well, um, it just is!"
"Hey, you know it was your decision and now you have to follow through with it or else Maison will have a coronary. Once it actually takes place, he's going to be cooking for days."
Bart laughed slightly. "Yeah, I guess you're right."
"The transport's going to be here soon, why don't you go change? After all, we can't have our king looking like a pirate."
"But those clothes are so stuffy," Bart whined.
"No complaining, just go."
Bart sighed as he trudged out of Sig's office and headed towards his room. Once he got there, he began to put on his kingly clothes, which he cordially detested. As he did, his mind began to drift to thoughts of his father. I wonder if Dad was this nervous when he did it, Bart thought. He glanced over at the bed, the same bed his father lay in the last time he saw him alive.
~~~
Six-year-old Bartholomew Fatima stood at the door to his father's room, which was slightly ajar. He knew he wasn't supposed to be there, but he couldn't help eavesdropping as his father talked with his oldest and dearest friend, Maison.
"Your cousin Francis arrived this morning," Maison said.
"I know he'd rather be in Nisan, with Elvira and little Margie, but I need to speak with him. I would go to see him, but I'm too weak to even get out of bed," Edbart replied.
"Your Majesty, I have some reservations concerning your decision to make Sir Shakhan Prime Minister."
"Nonsense, Maison. Shakhan is one of my most trusted advisors. But I fear that I shall not be here long enough to see if I am right."
Bart gasped in the hallway, and then quickly covered his mouth to try to avoid detection. It was too late however, and Maison, grabbing Bart by the ear began to scold him.
"Young Master! How many times have I told you not..."
"Wait, Maison. Bring my son to me. If he is to grow up to be king, he must learn about these things," Edbart said from inside the room.
Maison released his death grip on Bart's ear, and the young prince ran into the room to see his father. Deathly pale and ashen, King Edbart was a shadow of his former glory. He beckoned Bart to stand next to his bed and then began to speak.
"Bartholomew, my son, since I probably won't be alive to watch you grow up, there are several things that I need to tell you, for when you are king you will need to know these kinds of things. First, always try to do what is best for the people; rule with your heart, not with your fist. Second, always act with honor, and never bring shame to the proud Fatima dynasty. Third..."
Before Edbart could finish imparting his words of wisdom to his young son he was overcome by a fit of coughing. When the coughing subsided, there were trails of crimson on both his face and the sheets. Now his voice was weaker than ever.
"Share...the kingdom...with your...brother..."
With that King Edbart IV, ruler of Aveh, closed his eyes forever.
"D-Dad? Dad? Dad!"
Bart started to sob uncontrollably and he fell to his knees at his father's bedside. He was dimly aware of the sound of gunfire on the floors below him.
Suddenly, Edbart's aide Sigurd ran into the room.
"Your Majesty, we have to..." Sigurd stopped short when he took in the scene before him. Pain and despair crossed Sigurd's face. He quickly regained his composure and said, "Maison, Shakhan is leading a military force against the monarchy. Lord Francis and Queen Mariel were captured trying to defend the palace. We have to get the Young Master out of here as quickly as possible."
The next few minutes were a blur as Maison picked Bart up and made his way down to the Yggdrasil, the flagship of the Aveh fleet. Other residents of the palace, who were still loyal to the quickly fading remnants of the Fatima dynasty followed Maison and Sigurd onto the Yggdrasil.
Hours later, as Bart stood on the deck of the Yggdrasil looking out at the sea of sand in the direction of what, until several hours ago had been his home, Maison quietly approached.
"Young Master, I have something for you. This was your father's will. He entrusted it to me should anything...happen to him."
Maison handed Bart the rolled up piece of paper, which remained stamped with the royal seal.
Bart broke the seal and began to read the first part of the will out loud.
" 'I, King Edbart Fatima IV, ruler of Aveh, being of sound mind and body...' "
~~~
Bart shook his head to clear it, as he brought his mind from the past back into the present. "I fulfilled your will, Dad," he said. "Aveh is as much of a republic as its ever going to be. And I'm sharing the kingdom with Sig, just as you asked. Now I need you to do me a favor and give me the courage to go through with this." With that, Bart finished dressing, and proceeded downstairs to catch the transport to Nisan.
***
Marguerite, Great Mother of Nisan, was standing on the balcony of the Cathedral, waiting for the arrival of her cousin Bart. The warm spring breeze whipped her long auburn hair around. It had been a month since she had last seen Bart, which was far too long in her opinion. Suddenly, a great cheer arose from the streets of Nisan, and that could only mean one thing: the King of Aveh had arrived. Margie dashed down the steps as fast as her legs would carry her, only to run right into Sister Agnes.
"Marguerite! As the Great Mother of Nisan, you should try to be more careful!"
"Sorry, Sister. I was just in a hurry to get downstairs and meet Bart."
"Ah, yes, I had forgotten that His Majesty is due for a visit today. It warms my heart to see the two of you together. With the way you've been 'progressing', it's only a matter of time before the Fatima tradition is fulfilled. And then, shortly after, we might possibly have little Fatimas running around the Cathedral," Sister Agnes said with a mischievous gleam in her eye.
"Sister, I do love Bart, but I'm not sure if I'm ready to marry him yet. And besides, he hasn't even asked yet!"
"Well, we'll never know if you just stand here. Now go and meet him."
And then, much to Margie's surprise, Sister Agnes started to run to the Cathedral door laughing like a girl less than half her age.
Margie arrived at the door to the Cathedral several minutes later. She started fidgeting nervously as the great doors swung open.
"Make way for His Royal Highness, King Bartholomew Fatima I," Maison's voice boomed with the aid of a bullhorn.
Margie rolled her eyes, as did Bart when he walked into the Cathedral.
"Welcome to Nisan, Your Majesty," Margie said as she curtsied to her cousin.
"A pleasure to be here, Great Mother," Bart said with a deep bow.
"To what do we owe the pleasure of this visit?" Sister Agnes asked.
Maison whispered something in her ear and her eyes lit up.
"All right, everyone out of here! Let's give the king and the Great Mother some room!" she cried, and began to walk away, taking the group of nuns that had gathered with her.
"What was that about?" Margie asked.
"There's something I want to ask you. Come with me," Bart said, leading Margie upstairs to the overlook above the main hall.
"No matter how many times I come up here, I never get over how beautiful the statues are," Bart said, looking down at the massive angels that hung over the altar.
"Bart, it's not like you to be so sentimental. Is something wrong?"
"Margie, please, you know I think you're more beautiful than they are."
"Bart," Margie said turning bright red.
"Margie, I...asked you up here because I have something that I need to ask you," Bart said, with nervousness in his voice.
"What is it? You're never this tense."
Bart reached into his robes and pulled out a small black box.
"Margie, you know I love you, and I was wondering," Bart dropped down on one knee, "will you marry me?"
Bart opened the box to show Margie the largest diamond ring she had ever seen. Of course, being the king of Aveh did help to pad Bart's spending.
Margie stood dumbfounded. He was actually proposing.
"Bart...I..."
Before Margie could finish responding a large explosion rocked the Cathedral. The wall several feet away from her had been blown apart and two small canisters bounced into the room. The canisters emitted a thick gas cloud which spread throughout the area. Margie fell to her knees, as Bart fell to the ground coughing. He struggled to stay awake as he saw several figures lift Margie's unconscious body and carry her out of the Cathedral.
"Margie!" Bart called, reaching a hand out to his assailants before finally falling unconscious himself.
***
"Margie!" Bart screamed, sitting up in bed, with her name on his lips and her image in his mind.
"She's gone, Young Master," Maison said mournfully.
"W-What?" Bart asked. "What do you mean, gone?"
"She was kidnapped," Sigurd said, entering the room.
"By who?" Bart demanded.
"We don't know, but they left a note," Sigurd said as he handed it to Bart.
Bart unfolded the note and read the ornate cursive script.
To "His Majesty" Bartholomew Fatima,
I write this, with your best wishes in mind. Are you well? I hope that my gas bomb did not damage you too much. A crude method, I admit, but very effective, as you yourself can attest. By the time you read this, my associates will have already brought Lady Marguerite to me. My message is simple: come to the mountains north of Kislev, just to the south of the old Goliath Factory. You'll know you're in the right place, because several of my associates will be there to greet you. Come alone if you wish to see Lady Marguerite alive. If you know what is good for you, you will follow my instructions. I await your arrival, and I will assume that if you are not here in twenty-four hours that you are not coming, and I will move out of the area, and take Her Holiness with me.
Yours truly,
Prince Colin
Bart crumpled up the letter in his hand and threw it angrily at Sigurd.
"Young Master, please believe me. We are currently mobilizing our forces to go after this terrorist. Lady Marguerite will be safe, I assure you," Maison said.
"Didn't you read the letter? It says I have to go alone, or else Margie will die!"
"Young Master, the kingdom of Aveh does not negotiate with terrorists. It's obviously a trap. I cannot let you do this," Sigurd said.
"I don't give a damn about policy! This is Margie we're talking about, Sig! Are you telling me you're willing to risk her life?"
"Of course not, Young Master! But we can't allow you to go alone. You could be killed! And then where would the kingdom be?"
Bart hung his head in frustration. "You're right, Sig. I can't go charging off alone. But just out of curiosity, how long have I been unconscious?"
"Three hours, Your Highness. Unfortunately, it will take our forces another twelve hours to mobilize. That will only give us nine more hours to move the troops in and take care of this threat."
"Do it," Bart said with fire in his voice, "and do it quickly. Because if she dies, you both go with her."
Maison swallowed hard, and took Sigurd by the arm. "Perhaps we should let the Young Master rest a bit longer. Come along, Sigurd." And with that they both left the room.
Once they were gone, Bart quickly donned his battle equipment. Despite what he told Sigurd and Maison there was no way he was going to risk Margie's life like that. He figured that by the time they felt brave enough to come back, he would be at least halfway to the rendezvous point. Bart stepped to the window and with one final look back, leaped out to rescue his love.
***
"Bart!" Margie whispered as she woke up.
She was still a little groggy and her eyes had trouble focusing on the area around her. Her arms were sore. When she tried to move them, she found that she was unable to bring them past her eye level. She looked down at her hands and saw two metal shackles around her wrists. Heavy chains connected the shackles to the wall. Similar bindings held her ankles.
She looked up again to try to determine just where she was. She seemed to be in a cave of some sort, but she was surrounded by technology. It looked as if someone had thrown together this facility from a myriad of sources. Solaris, Aveh, Kislev, you name it, they had it.
"Well, lookie here! It looks like our sleeping beauty's awake now!"
Margie looked towards where the voice was coming from, and she saw a large, muscular man, who looked as if he could kill with a single handshake. A second man followed him. This one was shorter but had a thin wiry strength that came from a life of constant struggle, rather than one too many peaks into the steroid bottle.
"Hey you're right, Ozzie. Boss'll wanna know about it," the shorter man said.
"Yeah. Girlie, you're going to be our ticket to riches," Ozzie said, grinning at Margie and showing three rotted teeth. "Come on, Randi, let's go get him."
"Be right back, Darlin'," Randi said.
As they left, Margie pulled at the chains in vain. She was scared, but not overly so, because she knew that Bart would come to save her. Bart always came to save her. She knew that no matter what the odds, he would do anything in his power to protect her. That was how it had always been.
~~~
"Mommy! Mommy! Bart's picking on me!" Margie whined, running to her mother.
"No I'm not, Aunt Elvira! She's lying!" Bart protested.
"Really, you two, you'd think that at ten and twelve years old you'd be a bit more mature," Elvira said, rolling her eyes.
"Mommy, are we there yet? I wanna get to Noln and get some ice cream!"
"Marguerite, if you're going to be the Great Mother of Nisan someday, you need to learn some patience," Margie's grandmother, Sadira said.
"Well why are we going to Noln, anyway?" Bart cut in. "Besides, if we are going there, shouldn't we be bringing Sig?"
"Sigurd's busy finding a place where you'll be safe, Young Master," Sadira said.
"As for why we're going to Noln in the first place," Elvira said, answering Bart's first question, "we're trying to get some political support to back you in your efforts to reclaim the throne of Aveh."
"Well why should we do that? Shakhan thinks I'm dead, so wouldn't it just make more sense for us to stay in Nisan?"
"Perhaps you're to young to understand, Bartholomew," Sadira said. "But we cannot stand by while nearly 500 years of tradition comes to an end. The throne of Aveh is your birthright and we will not allow it to be taken away."
"If it's my birthright, then how come Dad told me to share the kingdom with my brother?" Bart grumbled softly.
The adults in the transport didn't hear the once and future prince's mutterings, but Margie did. She just shot her cousin a questioning look and let the matter drop.
Suddenly the ship lurched to the side, throwing everyone off balance.
Elvira ran to a nearby panel. "Bridge, what's going on?" she demanded.
"There's two pirate ships! We're under att—aaagh!"
Elvira quickly took charge of the situation. She ordered the ship's officers to protect Bart and Margie, while at the same time ordering the surviving pilot to take evasive maneuvers. But before these orders could be carried out the door to the passenger compartment was forced inward, and instead of pirates entering the room, everyone was greeted by the sight of Shakhan's guards wearing royal uniforms.
"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" a sneaky, cunning voice asked. "The holy women of the House of Nisan and dear dead Prince Bartholomew."
That's when he entered the room.
Everyone shrank back before his cold leering gaze, and the shine of light off his smooth bald head.
"Shakhan!" Bart cried. "Aren't you missing your appointment to get your head waxed?"
Shakhan's lips curled into a vicious sneer. "Still quite the rabble-rouser, aren't you 'my prince'? We'll have to do something about that fire, won't we? Take the children to my ship. Put the women on the other. I doubt they'll talk, however, the children are still young, malleable, and can easily be broken."
"You sadistic bastard! Leave them alone!" Elvira cried, but she was quickly restrained by two of Shakhan's guards.
"Temper my dear. If you don't want me to harm them any more than necessary, you'll learn to hold your tongue," Shakhan said, coldly smiling at her.
Bart and Margie were quickly ushered off the transport. Minutes later, they were in a large room on Shakhan's personal shuttle.
Then the hated man himself entered, followed by a very large guard brandishing a whip.
At the sight of them, Bart wrapped his arms protectively around Margie's crying form, making her feel safe.
"Now children," Shakhan began, "I have a few questions for you about the Fatima Jasper. If you give me the answers I desire right away, then I won't have to hurt you very much."
"Where are my mommy and grandma?" Margie interrupted.
"You'd best worry about yourself now, young lady," Shakhan said, moving to pat Margie on the head.
Before he could touch her, he felt the warm, slightly sticky feel of spit hitting his face.
"Leave her alone, you bald geek!" Bart cried angrily.
"Very well, then. Have it your way," Shakhan said, wiping the spit off his face. "Break them," he said, looking at the guard.
The guard raised his whip to the children, but before he could strike them, Shakhan's voice stopped him.
"Wait," he said, turning to go, "I abhor violence. Summon me when they talk." And with those words he was gone.
"All right, kiddies, it's fun time," the overly muscular man said raising the weapon again.
Bart heard the whip crack in the air, but before it could strike Margie, he turned her around, putting his body between her and it. Margie saw the pain etched across his face each time the whip was brought down.
The torturer, refusing to relent and stripping the flesh from Bart's back, was still at his cruel work hours later. The young prince was barely conscious at this point, but he was struggling to resist the pain, seemingly so that Margie wouldn't be hurt.
The ship lurched again, much as their royal transport had hours ago. However, this time, the boarding parties would consist of saviors.
Sigurd and Maison burst into the room. Maison ran over to the young captives, while Sigurd quickly subdued their tormentor. Bart finally gave into the pain and collapsed into Margie's arms.
"Maison! You have to help him!" Margie cried, with tears streaming down her face.
Sigurd picked Bart up, being careful not to touch what was left of his back, and rushed him back to the Yggdrasil sick bay.
An hour after the rescue, Bart was bandaged and treated, but still unconscious. Margie stayed by his bedside the entire night. He had gone through all of this for her. He had put his own life on the line to protect hers. Someday, maybe she would be able to protect him.
~~~
But that wasn't the only time, again and again Bart would risk everything to see her safe. She knew that he wouldn't ever let her down. And this was no exception. He was probably leading the entire royal army of Bledavik to save her at that very moment.
But Margie's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps. Randi and Ozzie re-entered the cavern, but this time they weren't alone. Walking in front of them was a third man that Margie had never seen before. He was about Bart's age, with short black hair. He was clad in princely garments of a royal blue, and he had a long cape trailing behind him. At his hip there was an ornate broad sword, however it didn't just seem to be a fancy decoration. Margie was fully aware that it was quite capable of cleaving her head from her shoulders. He seemed to have a noble bearing, and this was complemented by the deep, formal bow he gave her when he entered the room.
"Leave us," he said to Ozzie and Randi without even a glance over his shoulder. "'Tis a pleasure to finally meet you, Lady Marguerite."
"I wish I could say the same."
"Yes, I apologize for the...conditions under which we meet. I am Prince Colin, rightful ruler of both Aveh and Kislev."
"I'm sure King Bartholomew would have his grievances with you about that."
"Well, I'm sorry to say that that is the reason you are here today. Ruffian though he may be, the king will surely come to your aid. And when he does, he shall fall right into my trap."
"So you're planning to use me as bait?" Margie asked.
"I'm sorry to say that that is the most efficient use for you right now. However, once he has been slain, I shall take you as my bride, thus consolidating my claim to all of Ignas. After all, every king needs a queen to rule at his side, and you shall be mine."
"I don't think that Bart will die as easily as you're imagining. And on the slim chance that he does, I would never sink so low as to marry you."
"You will learn to love me," Colin said, running his finger softly down her cheek, "as you learned to love him." Margie bit at his finger before he could continue. "And if not," his hand moved from her face to around her throat, "you will learn to fear me."
As she struggled to breathe, Margie's eyes caught his, and she noticed something hauntingly familiar about his ice blue gaze. But before she could place it, he turned and left.
***
Colin stood in his private chambers. His subordinates had instructions not to disturb him unless Bartholomew arrived. Those were their orders, but he wasn't so sure if they had the intelligence to follow them. He had assembled his help from many of the less reputable surviving Kislev battlers. He had promised them money in return for their services, and when the plan to kidnap and ransom Lady Marguerite had been brought up, they all readily agreed to it.
Colin poured himself a glass of seventy-five-year-old Nisan wine. As he sipped the silky red liquid, Colin began to think about his life and how he was now poised to finally accept his calling. Ever since he had been old enough to understand the concept of destiny, he had been taught that his was to rule over all of Ignas.
He walked over to his desk and gently picked up a framed photograph. It was the only picture he had of his mother; the last remaining momento of her.
"Finally, mother, after all these years I am nearly triumphant. You would have been proud of me," he said.
As he stared at the image in his hand, memories of the last time he saw her alive began to float through his mind unbidden.
~~~
It was the day of his eighteenth birthday. Colin and his mother Kayla left their small village of Aragoth for the Imperial Capital, Nortune. It was to be Colin's first visit to the city of steam.
When they arrived in Nortune, Kayla looked at her son.
"Colin," she began, "We should separate for a while so that you can take this time to survey your future kingdom."
"Why will you not accompany me, Mother?"
"For eighteen years, I have striven to provide you with the best education, training, and life possible. I have raised you as a prince among commoners, Colin, but from now on you must learn to be a strong ruler. And as part of that lesson, you must realize that I cannot always be by your side. I will be at the inn near the North Gate. When you are finished looking around return."
"Yes, mother," he said, as he walked away from her into the midst of the city.
D Block was absolutely filthy. It disgusted him to be among such undignified people. Some of the prisoners weren't even fully human, but Colin assumed that the genetic throwbacks of the world had to wind up somewhere.
Colin didn't think much of the rest of the city either. The air was clouded with smoke and soot. It was a wonder that people could live here their entire lives. Colin was faintly surprised that the capital didn't cause a major pollution hazard for the rest of the world. But when he came to power, all of this would change. The old Nortune would be burned to the ground and in its place would rise a new Nortune, a better Nortune, HIS Nortune.
Insolent voices pulled Colin from his reverie.
"Well, well, well. If it isn't the Prince of Aragoth," a voice full of mocking taunted.
"Never expected to see you here among us...lowly peasants," another cut in.
"Especially after we left Aragoth to get work here," a third chimed..
"What was it he said?" the first began. "Oh yeah, I remember. 'I would rather die than lower myself to performing manual labor.'" And at this, he held up his hand and examined his nails.
Colin turned to see the Sakaguchi brothers standing behind him: Cid, Sid, and Syd. They were triplets whose father was drunk the day they were born. Their names had caused their elementary school teachers, and everyone else much confusion. But to Colin they were more annoyances than anything else. They found amusement in attempting to anger him.
"Don't you have anything better to do with your worthless lives?" Colin asked disdainfully.
"Ooooohh, what's the matter? Don't wanna talk to us?" Cid asked.
Colin ignored that remark and turned to go. He didn't need to be wasting his time on these peons.
"Hey Colin, where's your mom? Off with one of her 'clients?'"
Colin froze in his tracks.
"Don't let it get to you man. After all, she needs to pay for your fancy schoolin' somehow."
Colin turned and glared at the three of them.
"Hey, I just figured out what you rule over, Colin. You're the prince of whores!"
And with that Sid, Syd, and Cid broke out laughing uncontrollably.
Colin's swift roundhouse kick caught Sid squarely in the temple. He would probably have a concussion, once he woke up and the bleeding stopped. A swift punch to Cid's abdomen caused him to double over in pain. Then a knee to the face caused blood to flow from his now-broken nose, before he toppled over into the dirt. Already, his two brothers had been taken out but before Syd could react Colin was already upon him. Colin tackled Syd to the ground and then began to pummel him mercilessly.
An unexpected sight froze Colin with his bloodstained fist in the air. In the distance the central district was rising. A mighty red gearlike battleship now floated above what was once the Kaiser's palace, and only one thought crossed Colin's mind.
"Mother," he whispered.
Within seconds Colin was racing towards the inn near the North Gate of A Block. But a terrifying sight greeted him. The inn had been destroyed by the rising mechanical monster. Colin began frantically digging through what remained of the building. He tossed aside planks, steel beams, and rubble searching for the only person who held any meaning to him.
Eventually, after nearly two hours of digging, he found her. Still. Cold. Dead. As he cradled her lifeless body in his arms, he overheard the voices of nearby people as if they were coming through a long tunnel. They were saying something about Bartholomew Fatima was the one who was piloting the monstrosity that had killed his mother.
At that moment, Colin's destiny became clear. He would do what no other before him had been able to do. He would not settle for just taking Kislev anymore. He would reach out and take Aveh and Nisan within his iron grip as well. All of Ignas would bow to him. And if it didn't, then the world itself would tremble in fear.
~~~
For over two years he planned and prepared. During this time, he had combed the world for the depressed, the violent, the simple-minded, and the easily controlled. He promised them riches and power, and from them, he created his army. Once his army, such as it was, had been completed, he set about creating a base in the ruins of the Goliath factory. In this he had all the technology that he would need, and the things that he didn't have, he could easily acquire.
Once he'd even had the opportunity to kill Bartholomew in the snowfield hideout. It would have been so easy; all he would have needed to do was go up behind him and slit his throat. But Bartholomew had lived that day because Colin did not see the sense in ruling over an empire where all were dead. Besides, Bartholomew's purpose had been to serve as one of those chosen to defeat Deus. Now that Deus was dead, Bartholomew no longer had a purpose and could be...disposed of.
Colin heard footsteps approaching from behind, but judging from the tread he didn't feel the need to turn around.
"Speak," he commanded.
"Colin," the voice of Randi began from behind him.
Colin shot a murderous look over his shoulder at the dimwitted messenger.
"Uh, I mean, Prince Colin...sir."
"What do you want?"
"K-King Bartholomew has arrived. Leo and Mash are holding him downstairs."
"Very well. Fetch Lady Marguerite. The endgame has begun."
***
Bart stood in the center of a large hall flanked by two guards with muscles that looked like sides of beef. He could have taken them out easily, but he hadn't because he wanted to make sure that no harm came to Margie. Directly across from Bart, a large staircase led to the chamber above.
"So, where's your boss?" Bart asked, looking up at one of the guards.
"'E'z on 'iz way," one replied.
"So shaddup and just wait," the other said.
"Welcome, 'Your Majesty.' I trust that my associates have been hospitable," Colin said appearing at the top of the staircase. In his hands he held a chain that bound Margie's hands, and Bart could see her standing behind him.
"Margie!" Bart called.
"Bart!" Margie cried. She would have said more, but a sharp slap across the face from Colin silenced her quickly.
"Where are my manners?" Colin asked, turning back to face Bart. "I have yet to properly introduce myself. My name is Prince Colin...Fatima."
And with that, Colin bowed deeply. However, unlike when he introduced himself to Margie, this bow was full of mocking and condescension.
"F-Fatima? That's not possible," Bart half-whispered. "That's MY name!" he said more loudly.
"I assure you that it is entirely possible. For as you see, whereas your family traces its roots back to Roni Fatima, mine is descended from Rene Fatima."
"You mean, Roni's little brother?"
"Yes, Roni's little brother," Colin replied disdainfully. "That is how history remembers Rene. Allow me to enlighten you with the truth. After the Great War 500 years ago, Rene and Roni governed Aveh together; as close as any two brothers could be. But Roni grew ambitious and attempted to wrest control for himself. This resulted in a civil war in Aveh, and unfortunately Rene and his followers were defeated."
"Well, the picture scrolls that my father had, never said anything about more than one King Fatima I," Bart said. "So you must be some sort of loon, making all of this up in order to try and stake a claim to my kingdom."
"Of course there was no mention in your father's picture scrolls. History is often written by the victors. And if you doubt my claims to the Fatima name," he pulled Margie close to him, and told her, "then just look into my eyes, my dear, and tell your king what you see."
Once again, Margie stared into Colin's eyes, and this time she realized what was so familiar about them.
"Th-The Jasper," she whispered. "Bart, his eyes are the same as ours! He has the Fatima Jasper," she called down.
"Thank you," Colin said, pushing Margie away, but keeping a firm grip on her chain. "Now, where was I? Ah yes, cast out of Aveh, Rene Fatima and his followers were forced to settle in the barren wastelands of the north. The nation they founded is known as Kislev. So now you understand the tensions between Aveh and Kislev, dear 'cousin.'"
"But how could Rene have been the founder of Kislev? The Kaiser's not a Fatima. He's barely even human. So if Rico is Sigmund's son, and Sigmund was a demihuman, then how could Rene Fatima have formed Kislev, if the rulers of that nation are generational, just like Aveh's?"
"Since you'll probably hurt yourself thinking about it, I suppose I'll explain. That is the similarity that both our families share. About two centuries ago, the last Fatima Kaiser of Kislev was overthrown by his Prime Minister, much like your father. And just as you, the Crown Prince, of Aveh survived to take over, so too did the Fatima prince escape with his life. But unlike you, he was never able to regain the throne. Ever since then, the stories have been handed down throughout our family, so that we might remember what we once were, and what we might be again."
"If all that's true, then why did you kidnap Margie?"
"I am not content to simply rule Kislev. I shall rule Aveh and Nisan as well. And as for why, well, it is so much easier to attack those who have flaws first, rather than challenging those with no weakness, and Lady Marguerite here is your weakness. Once I have Aveh, I shall marry the Lady and lay claim to Nisan. Then, it shall be but a simple matter to conquer Kislev."
"Hey! You can't do that! I'm going to marry Margie! I proposed to her and...she would've said yes if you hadn't shown up."
"Would have. Could have. Should have. But didn't."
Bart fumed at Colin's comments, and pulled his whip from his belt. "Come on you arrogant, pompous jerk! Come on down and fight me!"
"Hmph, a whip. Just what I'd expect from a pirate." Colin paused as he drew his sword from his belt. "Now this," he said, turning it over in his hand, "this is the weapon of a gentleman. True royalty settles its differences with steel. Are you mature enough to fight me like a man?"
Before Bart had a chance to respond, Colin hurled a sword at him from above. The sword struck the ground between the young king's legs, narrowly missing his manhood as it descended.
"Here are the terms, Bartholomew: a duel to the death, winner takes all. That includes Marguerite, and the throne of Aveh as well. Do you accept?"
Bart put the whip back as he picked up the sword. "Bring it on!"
"Good," Colin said, as he began descending the stairs. But before he came he made to sure to leave Margie in the "care" of Randi and Ozzie. "I believe it was the poet Miliardo Renard who said:
No more love
No more hate
No more burdens left to take
No more sadness
No more joy
No more adventures, little boy
No more pleasure
No more rage
No more summers left to age
No more smiles
No more tears
For your future shall end here."
"Yeah well...um...up yours!" Bart cried in retaliation.
"Ah, I see you've also inherited the Fatima wit," Colin said, an amused smile playing about his lips. "But come. En garde!"
Colin swung his blade in a wide arc, forcing Bart to jump backwards in order to avoid it. Colin continued his attack with techniques that Bart hadn't seen used since the last time he had fought alongside Citan. But each attack was not meant to kill and Bart knew that Colin was merely toying with him. However, Bart soon grew tired, both in mind and in body, of being on the defensive. He started to look for an opening, and it wasn't long before Colin provided him with one.
Colin thrust forward to the right, a move which was meant to catch Bart off guard. Bart dodged to the left, barely avoiding a blow which would have probably caused serious damage. Then seeing that Colin had left himself wide open, Bart swung the sword upwards, cutting Colin on the left side of the face.
Colin stumbled backwards, holding his cheek. He moved his hand, and Bart could see that it was a deep wound, one which would surely leave a scar. Had the blade continued to cut a few centimeters higher, Colin would have lost his eye.
"You cut my face!" Colin began, looking at Bart with fury in his eyes. "You insolent cur!"
Colin lunged at Bart in rage, utilizing the techniques of a master swordsman. While most people would be distracted by their anger, Colin's only helped him to hone his attacks and make them more deadly. Soon, Bart was on the losing end of the battle, with no openings or hope in sight. He realized what a fool he had been by allowing Colin to goad him into using an unfamiliar weapon.
Bart realized that unless he could put some space between him and Colin, he would soon be very dead, very quickly. Bart backed up as much as he could, dropped the sword, and backflipped away, his feet catching Colin in the jaw as he did so. Bart landed a couple of feet away and pulled his whip from his belt. With a quick twist of his wrist, Bart sent his whip flying though the air and watched as it entangled itself around Colin's sword. Then, with a strong tug, Colin was disarmed.
"Okay, Colin, now we're equal," Bart said, replacing the whip on his belt.
"You are hardly my equal," Colin spat. "This just means that I have to dirty my hands with your blood when I kill you. But I don't mind."
"You'll find that I'm not an easy person to kill," Bart responded.
"Hmph. We shall see."
Despite Colin's snide words, he and Bart were fairly equal in skill, if in nothing else. Each punch, each kick, was blocked or parried successfully by the other. While the two men may not have been using the same fighting style, they were evenly matched in strength, and the convictions that drove them.
Everything seemed to start falling apart for the young king when he threw a punch at his opponent's face. Colin retaliated by grabbing Bart's left arm and twisting it around to an unnatural angle. Bart felt a sharp pain shoot through his arm and heard something crack as it was pulled from the socket. Bart's arm fell limply to his side when Colin released it.
"Hmph. You see now that this fight is pointless. Surrender, and I promise you a quick end with as little suffering as possible."
"Go to hell," Bart growled through clenched teeth.
"After you, dear 'cousin.'"
But Colin didn't get a chance to make good on his threat. Bart quickly dropped to one knee and swept Colin's legs out from under him. Then he quickly jumped onto Colin's waist. With his useless left arm still dangling limply at his side, Bart began punch Colin relentlessly in the face.
"This is for kidnapping Margie! This is for trying to take the throne! This is for...kidnapping Margie!"
But while he was punching Colin, Bart failed to notice that his adversary was pushing a button on his wrist. Suddenly a beeping noise filled the chamber.
"What the hell is that?" Bart asked, momentarily pausing in his assault.
"I just activated the self-destruct mechanism for this complex. You now have two choices: you can finish me off, or you can rescue your lady love. You have ten minutes to decide. I suggest you do it quickly."
"Damn!"
Bart stood, and rushed up the steps towards Margie. Colin, meanwhile, went to retrieve his sword. By the time Bart reached the top of the steps, Randi and Ozzie were nowhere to be found.
"Good show, dear 'cousin.' I sorely underestimated you," Colin said standing near the main entrance. "That is not a mistake I intend to repeat. Until we meet again, and believe me, we will, farewell."
With that Colin turned and vanished through the doorway.
Bart cursed under his breath as Colin ran off, and then he took Margie's hand and helped her to her feet.
"We'll deal with those chains once we get out of here," Bart said, as he began to lead Margie out of there.
All around them the facility began to collapse. They barely dodged large hunks of metal which had once been complicated machinery. By the time they got out, the massive Goliath Factory was nothing more than a heap of scrap metal. They looked around and saw no sign of Colin, or where he had gone. But off in the distance, they could see the coming Aveh forces, undoubtedly led by Sigurd and Maison.
"Late as always," Margie joked.
"Um...Margie? About what I was trying to ask you earlier..."
Margie cut Bart off with a warm, passionate kiss.
"Was that a yes?" the young man asked when it was over.
"Bart, you're so dense," Margie laughed.
"What?! Is it a yes??"
"I'll tell you when we get back to Aveh."
"I...think it's a yes."
"Silly boy. It's a yes! Let's go home!"
THE END
By:
Justin Rose and Michelle Stryjewski
Esor82@hotmail.com
phoenix_85@hotmail.com
Author's Notes: This story came out of ideas for an earlier story of Justin's. He never wrote down the other story, so it's not as if you need to read that one (since it was never posted anywhere) to understand this one. This takes place roughly 2 years after the end of the game. Scene changes will be denoted by asterisks and flashbacks will be denoted by little squiggly lines. We're writing this together since Justin has no computer. Therefore, the duty of typing and cowriting has fallen to me, Michelle. Also, this is a "romantic dramedy" so don't be surprised if some of the lines seem somewhat out of place, particularly remarks about Maria and Chu-Chu. Oh, and the thought of Bart and Margie being first cousins and getting married truly frightened us, so we made them second cousins. One last thing, if you've ever played Xenogears you know just how confusing that game is, so please don't send us any flames telling us that we messed up continuity, since we're willing to bet that you don't know what really happened either. Unless you have the Perfect Works Book, in which case we bow to your superior wisdom.
***
Bledavik, royal capital of the once-proud desert kingdom of Aveh. Bartholomew Fatima was standing in the highest tower in the royal palace of Aveh, looking over his kingdom. Whenever he ventured outside, he had to wear the royal robes and dress of a king, but inside he preferred to wear his pirate-like clothes to which he'd grown accustomed. His braided blonde hair hung in his left eye, and he had to push it away. In just two short years, Bledavik was well on its way to becoming the bustling and lively town it once was.
Bart stood and began to descend the long winding staircase that led from the tower to the castle itself. His mind drifted as it often did to thoughts about his friends. Fei and Elly had moved to Lahan to help the survivors rebuild. On their most recent visit to Bledavik, they brought a surprise with them: three-month old, Khan Eric Wong. Emeralda had recently gone to join her "parents" to see if she still had a place in their family.
Citan, or rather Hyuga, had been spending most of his time experimenting with new energy sources. His solar panels were already beginning to gain widespread use throughout all of Ignas. But his attempts to experiment with chemical energy had caused the neighbors to call the police several times for noise violations. Yui kept herself busy tending to her and Hyuga's son, while Midori began to spend more time with her father.
Jesiah had gone back to the orphanage with Billy and Primera in order to care for the orphans left in the Deus war, and to try to heal the old wounds between him and his son. Surprisingly enough, Dominia had joined Billy in his efforts to care for the children, and was soon joined by a jaded and broken Ramsus. After Deus, he had disappeared for a while, and no one knew to where. But now he was helping Billy, because he too had been "orphaned" when he was young.
Rico had been made the Kaiser of Kislev rather unwittingly. He wasn't paying much attention when they made that decision. Many of the Kislev survivors were battlers who obstinately still viewed him as Champ. They made him out to be a hero, and he was thrust into greatness, but his first official decision as Kaiser was to abolish the inhumane practices of the D-Block collars.
Tragedy had fallen a year after the end of Deus when Maria and Chu-Chu were crushed by Seibzhen in a freak accident. They had been trying to move the enormous gear, when the tensile wire broke and the hulking monstrosity began to fall. Maria tried to save her pink and furry friend but they were both crushed under Seibzhen's massive weight.
Bart, after returning to Bledavik, tried to honor his father's final wishes and formally established the Republic of Aveh. It failed, and quite miserably at that, since those appointed became greedy and corrupt, and if left to their own devices, Aveh would have become their personal piggy bank. Since he had revealed himself as the former crown prince, the people all looked to Bart for leadership. More and more decisions came to him, until he became king in deed if not in name. So, finally he dissolved the Republic. The official coronation took place several days later. It was a great celebration, the likes of which no one in Aveh had ever seen. Yet Bart did not totally abandon the ideals of a republic; he established a Council of Representatives with Sigurd as its Prime Minister.
His only regret was that he had not been able to spend more time with Margie. After the coronation ceremony their duties towards Aveh and Nisan respectively took their attentions away from their budding relationship. The most that they had been able to do was to steal quick kisses in between official functions. But hopefully that would change after today.
Bart strolled into Sigurd's office. The older silver-haired Prime Minister sat behind his desk. Sigurd looked up from his work when he heard his door open, and he saw his younger brother fidgeting in the door frame.
"Hey, Sig," Bart said meekly.
"Hello, little brother," Sigurd replied. "So, today's the big day, huh?"
"Uh...yeah."
"Why are you so nervous? You've faced everything from evil dictators to gods! So why are you so nervous about a little thing like this?"
"Well, this is...different!"
"How?"
"Well, um, it just is!"
"Hey, you know it was your decision and now you have to follow through with it or else Maison will have a coronary. Once it actually takes place, he's going to be cooking for days."
Bart laughed slightly. "Yeah, I guess you're right."
"The transport's going to be here soon, why don't you go change? After all, we can't have our king looking like a pirate."
"But those clothes are so stuffy," Bart whined.
"No complaining, just go."
Bart sighed as he trudged out of Sig's office and headed towards his room. Once he got there, he began to put on his kingly clothes, which he cordially detested. As he did, his mind began to drift to thoughts of his father. I wonder if Dad was this nervous when he did it, Bart thought. He glanced over at the bed, the same bed his father lay in the last time he saw him alive.
~~~
Six-year-old Bartholomew Fatima stood at the door to his father's room, which was slightly ajar. He knew he wasn't supposed to be there, but he couldn't help eavesdropping as his father talked with his oldest and dearest friend, Maison.
"Your cousin Francis arrived this morning," Maison said.
"I know he'd rather be in Nisan, with Elvira and little Margie, but I need to speak with him. I would go to see him, but I'm too weak to even get out of bed," Edbart replied.
"Your Majesty, I have some reservations concerning your decision to make Sir Shakhan Prime Minister."
"Nonsense, Maison. Shakhan is one of my most trusted advisors. But I fear that I shall not be here long enough to see if I am right."
Bart gasped in the hallway, and then quickly covered his mouth to try to avoid detection. It was too late however, and Maison, grabbing Bart by the ear began to scold him.
"Young Master! How many times have I told you not..."
"Wait, Maison. Bring my son to me. If he is to grow up to be king, he must learn about these things," Edbart said from inside the room.
Maison released his death grip on Bart's ear, and the young prince ran into the room to see his father. Deathly pale and ashen, King Edbart was a shadow of his former glory. He beckoned Bart to stand next to his bed and then began to speak.
"Bartholomew, my son, since I probably won't be alive to watch you grow up, there are several things that I need to tell you, for when you are king you will need to know these kinds of things. First, always try to do what is best for the people; rule with your heart, not with your fist. Second, always act with honor, and never bring shame to the proud Fatima dynasty. Third..."
Before Edbart could finish imparting his words of wisdom to his young son he was overcome by a fit of coughing. When the coughing subsided, there were trails of crimson on both his face and the sheets. Now his voice was weaker than ever.
"Share...the kingdom...with your...brother..."
With that King Edbart IV, ruler of Aveh, closed his eyes forever.
"D-Dad? Dad? Dad!"
Bart started to sob uncontrollably and he fell to his knees at his father's bedside. He was dimly aware of the sound of gunfire on the floors below him.
Suddenly, Edbart's aide Sigurd ran into the room.
"Your Majesty, we have to..." Sigurd stopped short when he took in the scene before him. Pain and despair crossed Sigurd's face. He quickly regained his composure and said, "Maison, Shakhan is leading a military force against the monarchy. Lord Francis and Queen Mariel were captured trying to defend the palace. We have to get the Young Master out of here as quickly as possible."
The next few minutes were a blur as Maison picked Bart up and made his way down to the Yggdrasil, the flagship of the Aveh fleet. Other residents of the palace, who were still loyal to the quickly fading remnants of the Fatima dynasty followed Maison and Sigurd onto the Yggdrasil.
Hours later, as Bart stood on the deck of the Yggdrasil looking out at the sea of sand in the direction of what, until several hours ago had been his home, Maison quietly approached.
"Young Master, I have something for you. This was your father's will. He entrusted it to me should anything...happen to him."
Maison handed Bart the rolled up piece of paper, which remained stamped with the royal seal.
Bart broke the seal and began to read the first part of the will out loud.
" 'I, King Edbart Fatima IV, ruler of Aveh, being of sound mind and body...' "
~~~
Bart shook his head to clear it, as he brought his mind from the past back into the present. "I fulfilled your will, Dad," he said. "Aveh is as much of a republic as its ever going to be. And I'm sharing the kingdom with Sig, just as you asked. Now I need you to do me a favor and give me the courage to go through with this." With that, Bart finished dressing, and proceeded downstairs to catch the transport to Nisan.
***
Marguerite, Great Mother of Nisan, was standing on the balcony of the Cathedral, waiting for the arrival of her cousin Bart. The warm spring breeze whipped her long auburn hair around. It had been a month since she had last seen Bart, which was far too long in her opinion. Suddenly, a great cheer arose from the streets of Nisan, and that could only mean one thing: the King of Aveh had arrived. Margie dashed down the steps as fast as her legs would carry her, only to run right into Sister Agnes.
"Marguerite! As the Great Mother of Nisan, you should try to be more careful!"
"Sorry, Sister. I was just in a hurry to get downstairs and meet Bart."
"Ah, yes, I had forgotten that His Majesty is due for a visit today. It warms my heart to see the two of you together. With the way you've been 'progressing', it's only a matter of time before the Fatima tradition is fulfilled. And then, shortly after, we might possibly have little Fatimas running around the Cathedral," Sister Agnes said with a mischievous gleam in her eye.
"Sister, I do love Bart, but I'm not sure if I'm ready to marry him yet. And besides, he hasn't even asked yet!"
"Well, we'll never know if you just stand here. Now go and meet him."
And then, much to Margie's surprise, Sister Agnes started to run to the Cathedral door laughing like a girl less than half her age.
Margie arrived at the door to the Cathedral several minutes later. She started fidgeting nervously as the great doors swung open.
"Make way for His Royal Highness, King Bartholomew Fatima I," Maison's voice boomed with the aid of a bullhorn.
Margie rolled her eyes, as did Bart when he walked into the Cathedral.
"Welcome to Nisan, Your Majesty," Margie said as she curtsied to her cousin.
"A pleasure to be here, Great Mother," Bart said with a deep bow.
"To what do we owe the pleasure of this visit?" Sister Agnes asked.
Maison whispered something in her ear and her eyes lit up.
"All right, everyone out of here! Let's give the king and the Great Mother some room!" she cried, and began to walk away, taking the group of nuns that had gathered with her.
"What was that about?" Margie asked.
"There's something I want to ask you. Come with me," Bart said, leading Margie upstairs to the overlook above the main hall.
"No matter how many times I come up here, I never get over how beautiful the statues are," Bart said, looking down at the massive angels that hung over the altar.
"Bart, it's not like you to be so sentimental. Is something wrong?"
"Margie, please, you know I think you're more beautiful than they are."
"Bart," Margie said turning bright red.
"Margie, I...asked you up here because I have something that I need to ask you," Bart said, with nervousness in his voice.
"What is it? You're never this tense."
Bart reached into his robes and pulled out a small black box.
"Margie, you know I love you, and I was wondering," Bart dropped down on one knee, "will you marry me?"
Bart opened the box to show Margie the largest diamond ring she had ever seen. Of course, being the king of Aveh did help to pad Bart's spending.
Margie stood dumbfounded. He was actually proposing.
"Bart...I..."
Before Margie could finish responding a large explosion rocked the Cathedral. The wall several feet away from her had been blown apart and two small canisters bounced into the room. The canisters emitted a thick gas cloud which spread throughout the area. Margie fell to her knees, as Bart fell to the ground coughing. He struggled to stay awake as he saw several figures lift Margie's unconscious body and carry her out of the Cathedral.
"Margie!" Bart called, reaching a hand out to his assailants before finally falling unconscious himself.
***
"Margie!" Bart screamed, sitting up in bed, with her name on his lips and her image in his mind.
"She's gone, Young Master," Maison said mournfully.
"W-What?" Bart asked. "What do you mean, gone?"
"She was kidnapped," Sigurd said, entering the room.
"By who?" Bart demanded.
"We don't know, but they left a note," Sigurd said as he handed it to Bart.
Bart unfolded the note and read the ornate cursive script.
To "His Majesty" Bartholomew Fatima,
I write this, with your best wishes in mind. Are you well? I hope that my gas bomb did not damage you too much. A crude method, I admit, but very effective, as you yourself can attest. By the time you read this, my associates will have already brought Lady Marguerite to me. My message is simple: come to the mountains north of Kislev, just to the south of the old Goliath Factory. You'll know you're in the right place, because several of my associates will be there to greet you. Come alone if you wish to see Lady Marguerite alive. If you know what is good for you, you will follow my instructions. I await your arrival, and I will assume that if you are not here in twenty-four hours that you are not coming, and I will move out of the area, and take Her Holiness with me.
Yours truly,
Prince Colin
Bart crumpled up the letter in his hand and threw it angrily at Sigurd.
"Young Master, please believe me. We are currently mobilizing our forces to go after this terrorist. Lady Marguerite will be safe, I assure you," Maison said.
"Didn't you read the letter? It says I have to go alone, or else Margie will die!"
"Young Master, the kingdom of Aveh does not negotiate with terrorists. It's obviously a trap. I cannot let you do this," Sigurd said.
"I don't give a damn about policy! This is Margie we're talking about, Sig! Are you telling me you're willing to risk her life?"
"Of course not, Young Master! But we can't allow you to go alone. You could be killed! And then where would the kingdom be?"
Bart hung his head in frustration. "You're right, Sig. I can't go charging off alone. But just out of curiosity, how long have I been unconscious?"
"Three hours, Your Highness. Unfortunately, it will take our forces another twelve hours to mobilize. That will only give us nine more hours to move the troops in and take care of this threat."
"Do it," Bart said with fire in his voice, "and do it quickly. Because if she dies, you both go with her."
Maison swallowed hard, and took Sigurd by the arm. "Perhaps we should let the Young Master rest a bit longer. Come along, Sigurd." And with that they both left the room.
Once they were gone, Bart quickly donned his battle equipment. Despite what he told Sigurd and Maison there was no way he was going to risk Margie's life like that. He figured that by the time they felt brave enough to come back, he would be at least halfway to the rendezvous point. Bart stepped to the window and with one final look back, leaped out to rescue his love.
***
"Bart!" Margie whispered as she woke up.
She was still a little groggy and her eyes had trouble focusing on the area around her. Her arms were sore. When she tried to move them, she found that she was unable to bring them past her eye level. She looked down at her hands and saw two metal shackles around her wrists. Heavy chains connected the shackles to the wall. Similar bindings held her ankles.
She looked up again to try to determine just where she was. She seemed to be in a cave of some sort, but she was surrounded by technology. It looked as if someone had thrown together this facility from a myriad of sources. Solaris, Aveh, Kislev, you name it, they had it.
"Well, lookie here! It looks like our sleeping beauty's awake now!"
Margie looked towards where the voice was coming from, and she saw a large, muscular man, who looked as if he could kill with a single handshake. A second man followed him. This one was shorter but had a thin wiry strength that came from a life of constant struggle, rather than one too many peaks into the steroid bottle.
"Hey you're right, Ozzie. Boss'll wanna know about it," the shorter man said.
"Yeah. Girlie, you're going to be our ticket to riches," Ozzie said, grinning at Margie and showing three rotted teeth. "Come on, Randi, let's go get him."
"Be right back, Darlin'," Randi said.
As they left, Margie pulled at the chains in vain. She was scared, but not overly so, because she knew that Bart would come to save her. Bart always came to save her. She knew that no matter what the odds, he would do anything in his power to protect her. That was how it had always been.
~~~
"Mommy! Mommy! Bart's picking on me!" Margie whined, running to her mother.
"No I'm not, Aunt Elvira! She's lying!" Bart protested.
"Really, you two, you'd think that at ten and twelve years old you'd be a bit more mature," Elvira said, rolling her eyes.
"Mommy, are we there yet? I wanna get to Noln and get some ice cream!"
"Marguerite, if you're going to be the Great Mother of Nisan someday, you need to learn some patience," Margie's grandmother, Sadira said.
"Well why are we going to Noln, anyway?" Bart cut in. "Besides, if we are going there, shouldn't we be bringing Sig?"
"Sigurd's busy finding a place where you'll be safe, Young Master," Sadira said.
"As for why we're going to Noln in the first place," Elvira said, answering Bart's first question, "we're trying to get some political support to back you in your efforts to reclaim the throne of Aveh."
"Well why should we do that? Shakhan thinks I'm dead, so wouldn't it just make more sense for us to stay in Nisan?"
"Perhaps you're to young to understand, Bartholomew," Sadira said. "But we cannot stand by while nearly 500 years of tradition comes to an end. The throne of Aveh is your birthright and we will not allow it to be taken away."
"If it's my birthright, then how come Dad told me to share the kingdom with my brother?" Bart grumbled softly.
The adults in the transport didn't hear the once and future prince's mutterings, but Margie did. She just shot her cousin a questioning look and let the matter drop.
Suddenly the ship lurched to the side, throwing everyone off balance.
Elvira ran to a nearby panel. "Bridge, what's going on?" she demanded.
"There's two pirate ships! We're under att—aaagh!"
Elvira quickly took charge of the situation. She ordered the ship's officers to protect Bart and Margie, while at the same time ordering the surviving pilot to take evasive maneuvers. But before these orders could be carried out the door to the passenger compartment was forced inward, and instead of pirates entering the room, everyone was greeted by the sight of Shakhan's guards wearing royal uniforms.
"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" a sneaky, cunning voice asked. "The holy women of the House of Nisan and dear dead Prince Bartholomew."
That's when he entered the room.
Everyone shrank back before his cold leering gaze, and the shine of light off his smooth bald head.
"Shakhan!" Bart cried. "Aren't you missing your appointment to get your head waxed?"
Shakhan's lips curled into a vicious sneer. "Still quite the rabble-rouser, aren't you 'my prince'? We'll have to do something about that fire, won't we? Take the children to my ship. Put the women on the other. I doubt they'll talk, however, the children are still young, malleable, and can easily be broken."
"You sadistic bastard! Leave them alone!" Elvira cried, but she was quickly restrained by two of Shakhan's guards.
"Temper my dear. If you don't want me to harm them any more than necessary, you'll learn to hold your tongue," Shakhan said, coldly smiling at her.
Bart and Margie were quickly ushered off the transport. Minutes later, they were in a large room on Shakhan's personal shuttle.
Then the hated man himself entered, followed by a very large guard brandishing a whip.
At the sight of them, Bart wrapped his arms protectively around Margie's crying form, making her feel safe.
"Now children," Shakhan began, "I have a few questions for you about the Fatima Jasper. If you give me the answers I desire right away, then I won't have to hurt you very much."
"Where are my mommy and grandma?" Margie interrupted.
"You'd best worry about yourself now, young lady," Shakhan said, moving to pat Margie on the head.
Before he could touch her, he felt the warm, slightly sticky feel of spit hitting his face.
"Leave her alone, you bald geek!" Bart cried angrily.
"Very well, then. Have it your way," Shakhan said, wiping the spit off his face. "Break them," he said, looking at the guard.
The guard raised his whip to the children, but before he could strike them, Shakhan's voice stopped him.
"Wait," he said, turning to go, "I abhor violence. Summon me when they talk." And with those words he was gone.
"All right, kiddies, it's fun time," the overly muscular man said raising the weapon again.
Bart heard the whip crack in the air, but before it could strike Margie, he turned her around, putting his body between her and it. Margie saw the pain etched across his face each time the whip was brought down.
The torturer, refusing to relent and stripping the flesh from Bart's back, was still at his cruel work hours later. The young prince was barely conscious at this point, but he was struggling to resist the pain, seemingly so that Margie wouldn't be hurt.
The ship lurched again, much as their royal transport had hours ago. However, this time, the boarding parties would consist of saviors.
Sigurd and Maison burst into the room. Maison ran over to the young captives, while Sigurd quickly subdued their tormentor. Bart finally gave into the pain and collapsed into Margie's arms.
"Maison! You have to help him!" Margie cried, with tears streaming down her face.
Sigurd picked Bart up, being careful not to touch what was left of his back, and rushed him back to the Yggdrasil sick bay.
An hour after the rescue, Bart was bandaged and treated, but still unconscious. Margie stayed by his bedside the entire night. He had gone through all of this for her. He had put his own life on the line to protect hers. Someday, maybe she would be able to protect him.
~~~
But that wasn't the only time, again and again Bart would risk everything to see her safe. She knew that he wouldn't ever let her down. And this was no exception. He was probably leading the entire royal army of Bledavik to save her at that very moment.
But Margie's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps. Randi and Ozzie re-entered the cavern, but this time they weren't alone. Walking in front of them was a third man that Margie had never seen before. He was about Bart's age, with short black hair. He was clad in princely garments of a royal blue, and he had a long cape trailing behind him. At his hip there was an ornate broad sword, however it didn't just seem to be a fancy decoration. Margie was fully aware that it was quite capable of cleaving her head from her shoulders. He seemed to have a noble bearing, and this was complemented by the deep, formal bow he gave her when he entered the room.
"Leave us," he said to Ozzie and Randi without even a glance over his shoulder. "'Tis a pleasure to finally meet you, Lady Marguerite."
"I wish I could say the same."
"Yes, I apologize for the...conditions under which we meet. I am Prince Colin, rightful ruler of both Aveh and Kislev."
"I'm sure King Bartholomew would have his grievances with you about that."
"Well, I'm sorry to say that that is the reason you are here today. Ruffian though he may be, the king will surely come to your aid. And when he does, he shall fall right into my trap."
"So you're planning to use me as bait?" Margie asked.
"I'm sorry to say that that is the most efficient use for you right now. However, once he has been slain, I shall take you as my bride, thus consolidating my claim to all of Ignas. After all, every king needs a queen to rule at his side, and you shall be mine."
"I don't think that Bart will die as easily as you're imagining. And on the slim chance that he does, I would never sink so low as to marry you."
"You will learn to love me," Colin said, running his finger softly down her cheek, "as you learned to love him." Margie bit at his finger before he could continue. "And if not," his hand moved from her face to around her throat, "you will learn to fear me."
As she struggled to breathe, Margie's eyes caught his, and she noticed something hauntingly familiar about his ice blue gaze. But before she could place it, he turned and left.
***
Colin stood in his private chambers. His subordinates had instructions not to disturb him unless Bartholomew arrived. Those were their orders, but he wasn't so sure if they had the intelligence to follow them. He had assembled his help from many of the less reputable surviving Kislev battlers. He had promised them money in return for their services, and when the plan to kidnap and ransom Lady Marguerite had been brought up, they all readily agreed to it.
Colin poured himself a glass of seventy-five-year-old Nisan wine. As he sipped the silky red liquid, Colin began to think about his life and how he was now poised to finally accept his calling. Ever since he had been old enough to understand the concept of destiny, he had been taught that his was to rule over all of Ignas.
He walked over to his desk and gently picked up a framed photograph. It was the only picture he had of his mother; the last remaining momento of her.
"Finally, mother, after all these years I am nearly triumphant. You would have been proud of me," he said.
As he stared at the image in his hand, memories of the last time he saw her alive began to float through his mind unbidden.
~~~
It was the day of his eighteenth birthday. Colin and his mother Kayla left their small village of Aragoth for the Imperial Capital, Nortune. It was to be Colin's first visit to the city of steam.
When they arrived in Nortune, Kayla looked at her son.
"Colin," she began, "We should separate for a while so that you can take this time to survey your future kingdom."
"Why will you not accompany me, Mother?"
"For eighteen years, I have striven to provide you with the best education, training, and life possible. I have raised you as a prince among commoners, Colin, but from now on you must learn to be a strong ruler. And as part of that lesson, you must realize that I cannot always be by your side. I will be at the inn near the North Gate. When you are finished looking around return."
"Yes, mother," he said, as he walked away from her into the midst of the city.
D Block was absolutely filthy. It disgusted him to be among such undignified people. Some of the prisoners weren't even fully human, but Colin assumed that the genetic throwbacks of the world had to wind up somewhere.
Colin didn't think much of the rest of the city either. The air was clouded with smoke and soot. It was a wonder that people could live here their entire lives. Colin was faintly surprised that the capital didn't cause a major pollution hazard for the rest of the world. But when he came to power, all of this would change. The old Nortune would be burned to the ground and in its place would rise a new Nortune, a better Nortune, HIS Nortune.
Insolent voices pulled Colin from his reverie.
"Well, well, well. If it isn't the Prince of Aragoth," a voice full of mocking taunted.
"Never expected to see you here among us...lowly peasants," another cut in.
"Especially after we left Aragoth to get work here," a third chimed..
"What was it he said?" the first began. "Oh yeah, I remember. 'I would rather die than lower myself to performing manual labor.'" And at this, he held up his hand and examined his nails.
Colin turned to see the Sakaguchi brothers standing behind him: Cid, Sid, and Syd. They were triplets whose father was drunk the day they were born. Their names had caused their elementary school teachers, and everyone else much confusion. But to Colin they were more annoyances than anything else. They found amusement in attempting to anger him.
"Don't you have anything better to do with your worthless lives?" Colin asked disdainfully.
"Ooooohh, what's the matter? Don't wanna talk to us?" Cid asked.
Colin ignored that remark and turned to go. He didn't need to be wasting his time on these peons.
"Hey Colin, where's your mom? Off with one of her 'clients?'"
Colin froze in his tracks.
"Don't let it get to you man. After all, she needs to pay for your fancy schoolin' somehow."
Colin turned and glared at the three of them.
"Hey, I just figured out what you rule over, Colin. You're the prince of whores!"
And with that Sid, Syd, and Cid broke out laughing uncontrollably.
Colin's swift roundhouse kick caught Sid squarely in the temple. He would probably have a concussion, once he woke up and the bleeding stopped. A swift punch to Cid's abdomen caused him to double over in pain. Then a knee to the face caused blood to flow from his now-broken nose, before he toppled over into the dirt. Already, his two brothers had been taken out but before Syd could react Colin was already upon him. Colin tackled Syd to the ground and then began to pummel him mercilessly.
An unexpected sight froze Colin with his bloodstained fist in the air. In the distance the central district was rising. A mighty red gearlike battleship now floated above what was once the Kaiser's palace, and only one thought crossed Colin's mind.
"Mother," he whispered.
Within seconds Colin was racing towards the inn near the North Gate of A Block. But a terrifying sight greeted him. The inn had been destroyed by the rising mechanical monster. Colin began frantically digging through what remained of the building. He tossed aside planks, steel beams, and rubble searching for the only person who held any meaning to him.
Eventually, after nearly two hours of digging, he found her. Still. Cold. Dead. As he cradled her lifeless body in his arms, he overheard the voices of nearby people as if they were coming through a long tunnel. They were saying something about Bartholomew Fatima was the one who was piloting the monstrosity that had killed his mother.
At that moment, Colin's destiny became clear. He would do what no other before him had been able to do. He would not settle for just taking Kislev anymore. He would reach out and take Aveh and Nisan within his iron grip as well. All of Ignas would bow to him. And if it didn't, then the world itself would tremble in fear.
~~~
For over two years he planned and prepared. During this time, he had combed the world for the depressed, the violent, the simple-minded, and the easily controlled. He promised them riches and power, and from them, he created his army. Once his army, such as it was, had been completed, he set about creating a base in the ruins of the Goliath factory. In this he had all the technology that he would need, and the things that he didn't have, he could easily acquire.
Once he'd even had the opportunity to kill Bartholomew in the snowfield hideout. It would have been so easy; all he would have needed to do was go up behind him and slit his throat. But Bartholomew had lived that day because Colin did not see the sense in ruling over an empire where all were dead. Besides, Bartholomew's purpose had been to serve as one of those chosen to defeat Deus. Now that Deus was dead, Bartholomew no longer had a purpose and could be...disposed of.
Colin heard footsteps approaching from behind, but judging from the tread he didn't feel the need to turn around.
"Speak," he commanded.
"Colin," the voice of Randi began from behind him.
Colin shot a murderous look over his shoulder at the dimwitted messenger.
"Uh, I mean, Prince Colin...sir."
"What do you want?"
"K-King Bartholomew has arrived. Leo and Mash are holding him downstairs."
"Very well. Fetch Lady Marguerite. The endgame has begun."
***
Bart stood in the center of a large hall flanked by two guards with muscles that looked like sides of beef. He could have taken them out easily, but he hadn't because he wanted to make sure that no harm came to Margie. Directly across from Bart, a large staircase led to the chamber above.
"So, where's your boss?" Bart asked, looking up at one of the guards.
"'E'z on 'iz way," one replied.
"So shaddup and just wait," the other said.
"Welcome, 'Your Majesty.' I trust that my associates have been hospitable," Colin said appearing at the top of the staircase. In his hands he held a chain that bound Margie's hands, and Bart could see her standing behind him.
"Margie!" Bart called.
"Bart!" Margie cried. She would have said more, but a sharp slap across the face from Colin silenced her quickly.
"Where are my manners?" Colin asked, turning back to face Bart. "I have yet to properly introduce myself. My name is Prince Colin...Fatima."
And with that, Colin bowed deeply. However, unlike when he introduced himself to Margie, this bow was full of mocking and condescension.
"F-Fatima? That's not possible," Bart half-whispered. "That's MY name!" he said more loudly.
"I assure you that it is entirely possible. For as you see, whereas your family traces its roots back to Roni Fatima, mine is descended from Rene Fatima."
"You mean, Roni's little brother?"
"Yes, Roni's little brother," Colin replied disdainfully. "That is how history remembers Rene. Allow me to enlighten you with the truth. After the Great War 500 years ago, Rene and Roni governed Aveh together; as close as any two brothers could be. But Roni grew ambitious and attempted to wrest control for himself. This resulted in a civil war in Aveh, and unfortunately Rene and his followers were defeated."
"Well, the picture scrolls that my father had, never said anything about more than one King Fatima I," Bart said. "So you must be some sort of loon, making all of this up in order to try and stake a claim to my kingdom."
"Of course there was no mention in your father's picture scrolls. History is often written by the victors. And if you doubt my claims to the Fatima name," he pulled Margie close to him, and told her, "then just look into my eyes, my dear, and tell your king what you see."
Once again, Margie stared into Colin's eyes, and this time she realized what was so familiar about them.
"Th-The Jasper," she whispered. "Bart, his eyes are the same as ours! He has the Fatima Jasper," she called down.
"Thank you," Colin said, pushing Margie away, but keeping a firm grip on her chain. "Now, where was I? Ah yes, cast out of Aveh, Rene Fatima and his followers were forced to settle in the barren wastelands of the north. The nation they founded is known as Kislev. So now you understand the tensions between Aveh and Kislev, dear 'cousin.'"
"But how could Rene have been the founder of Kislev? The Kaiser's not a Fatima. He's barely even human. So if Rico is Sigmund's son, and Sigmund was a demihuman, then how could Rene Fatima have formed Kislev, if the rulers of that nation are generational, just like Aveh's?"
"Since you'll probably hurt yourself thinking about it, I suppose I'll explain. That is the similarity that both our families share. About two centuries ago, the last Fatima Kaiser of Kislev was overthrown by his Prime Minister, much like your father. And just as you, the Crown Prince, of Aveh survived to take over, so too did the Fatima prince escape with his life. But unlike you, he was never able to regain the throne. Ever since then, the stories have been handed down throughout our family, so that we might remember what we once were, and what we might be again."
"If all that's true, then why did you kidnap Margie?"
"I am not content to simply rule Kislev. I shall rule Aveh and Nisan as well. And as for why, well, it is so much easier to attack those who have flaws first, rather than challenging those with no weakness, and Lady Marguerite here is your weakness. Once I have Aveh, I shall marry the Lady and lay claim to Nisan. Then, it shall be but a simple matter to conquer Kislev."
"Hey! You can't do that! I'm going to marry Margie! I proposed to her and...she would've said yes if you hadn't shown up."
"Would have. Could have. Should have. But didn't."
Bart fumed at Colin's comments, and pulled his whip from his belt. "Come on you arrogant, pompous jerk! Come on down and fight me!"
"Hmph, a whip. Just what I'd expect from a pirate." Colin paused as he drew his sword from his belt. "Now this," he said, turning it over in his hand, "this is the weapon of a gentleman. True royalty settles its differences with steel. Are you mature enough to fight me like a man?"
Before Bart had a chance to respond, Colin hurled a sword at him from above. The sword struck the ground between the young king's legs, narrowly missing his manhood as it descended.
"Here are the terms, Bartholomew: a duel to the death, winner takes all. That includes Marguerite, and the throne of Aveh as well. Do you accept?"
Bart put the whip back as he picked up the sword. "Bring it on!"
"Good," Colin said, as he began descending the stairs. But before he came he made to sure to leave Margie in the "care" of Randi and Ozzie. "I believe it was the poet Miliardo Renard who said:
No more love
No more hate
No more burdens left to take
No more sadness
No more joy
No more adventures, little boy
No more pleasure
No more rage
No more summers left to age
No more smiles
No more tears
For your future shall end here."
"Yeah well...um...up yours!" Bart cried in retaliation.
"Ah, I see you've also inherited the Fatima wit," Colin said, an amused smile playing about his lips. "But come. En garde!"
Colin swung his blade in a wide arc, forcing Bart to jump backwards in order to avoid it. Colin continued his attack with techniques that Bart hadn't seen used since the last time he had fought alongside Citan. But each attack was not meant to kill and Bart knew that Colin was merely toying with him. However, Bart soon grew tired, both in mind and in body, of being on the defensive. He started to look for an opening, and it wasn't long before Colin provided him with one.
Colin thrust forward to the right, a move which was meant to catch Bart off guard. Bart dodged to the left, barely avoiding a blow which would have probably caused serious damage. Then seeing that Colin had left himself wide open, Bart swung the sword upwards, cutting Colin on the left side of the face.
Colin stumbled backwards, holding his cheek. He moved his hand, and Bart could see that it was a deep wound, one which would surely leave a scar. Had the blade continued to cut a few centimeters higher, Colin would have lost his eye.
"You cut my face!" Colin began, looking at Bart with fury in his eyes. "You insolent cur!"
Colin lunged at Bart in rage, utilizing the techniques of a master swordsman. While most people would be distracted by their anger, Colin's only helped him to hone his attacks and make them more deadly. Soon, Bart was on the losing end of the battle, with no openings or hope in sight. He realized what a fool he had been by allowing Colin to goad him into using an unfamiliar weapon.
Bart realized that unless he could put some space between him and Colin, he would soon be very dead, very quickly. Bart backed up as much as he could, dropped the sword, and backflipped away, his feet catching Colin in the jaw as he did so. Bart landed a couple of feet away and pulled his whip from his belt. With a quick twist of his wrist, Bart sent his whip flying though the air and watched as it entangled itself around Colin's sword. Then, with a strong tug, Colin was disarmed.
"Okay, Colin, now we're equal," Bart said, replacing the whip on his belt.
"You are hardly my equal," Colin spat. "This just means that I have to dirty my hands with your blood when I kill you. But I don't mind."
"You'll find that I'm not an easy person to kill," Bart responded.
"Hmph. We shall see."
Despite Colin's snide words, he and Bart were fairly equal in skill, if in nothing else. Each punch, each kick, was blocked or parried successfully by the other. While the two men may not have been using the same fighting style, they were evenly matched in strength, and the convictions that drove them.
Everything seemed to start falling apart for the young king when he threw a punch at his opponent's face. Colin retaliated by grabbing Bart's left arm and twisting it around to an unnatural angle. Bart felt a sharp pain shoot through his arm and heard something crack as it was pulled from the socket. Bart's arm fell limply to his side when Colin released it.
"Hmph. You see now that this fight is pointless. Surrender, and I promise you a quick end with as little suffering as possible."
"Go to hell," Bart growled through clenched teeth.
"After you, dear 'cousin.'"
But Colin didn't get a chance to make good on his threat. Bart quickly dropped to one knee and swept Colin's legs out from under him. Then he quickly jumped onto Colin's waist. With his useless left arm still dangling limply at his side, Bart began punch Colin relentlessly in the face.
"This is for kidnapping Margie! This is for trying to take the throne! This is for...kidnapping Margie!"
But while he was punching Colin, Bart failed to notice that his adversary was pushing a button on his wrist. Suddenly a beeping noise filled the chamber.
"What the hell is that?" Bart asked, momentarily pausing in his assault.
"I just activated the self-destruct mechanism for this complex. You now have two choices: you can finish me off, or you can rescue your lady love. You have ten minutes to decide. I suggest you do it quickly."
"Damn!"
Bart stood, and rushed up the steps towards Margie. Colin, meanwhile, went to retrieve his sword. By the time Bart reached the top of the steps, Randi and Ozzie were nowhere to be found.
"Good show, dear 'cousin.' I sorely underestimated you," Colin said standing near the main entrance. "That is not a mistake I intend to repeat. Until we meet again, and believe me, we will, farewell."
With that Colin turned and vanished through the doorway.
Bart cursed under his breath as Colin ran off, and then he took Margie's hand and helped her to her feet.
"We'll deal with those chains once we get out of here," Bart said, as he began to lead Margie out of there.
All around them the facility began to collapse. They barely dodged large hunks of metal which had once been complicated machinery. By the time they got out, the massive Goliath Factory was nothing more than a heap of scrap metal. They looked around and saw no sign of Colin, or where he had gone. But off in the distance, they could see the coming Aveh forces, undoubtedly led by Sigurd and Maison.
"Late as always," Margie joked.
"Um...Margie? About what I was trying to ask you earlier..."
Margie cut Bart off with a warm, passionate kiss.
"Was that a yes?" the young man asked when it was over.
"Bart, you're so dense," Margie laughed.
"What?! Is it a yes??"
"I'll tell you when we get back to Aveh."
"I...think it's a yes."
"Silly boy. It's a yes! Let's go home!"
THE END