AN: Sorry for the long wait, minna. We had a little problem with the PC and some spy ware, along with the renowned Pop-up Ad Attack Of Death And Major Annoyance, and I haven't been able to get up and post. Here's the next chapter.

And don't worry---now that I'm off Frankie and back on our nice new PC (that doesn't have a title yet, but I promise to fix that soon, ha) I'm not waiting until I get a certain number of notices that people have read the latest chapter---known as reviews---before I put up the next one. Keep in mind, however, that seeing a message labeled "Fanfiction.net Review Alert" in my e-box will remind me to put up another chapter. SUBTLE HINT here.

Aaaaaaand Spike is now trying to chew my brother's GameCube consol to bits, so I'm going to go put a stop to that before Bass fries the poor bog in the name of GameCube Protection. *wanders out*

Disclaimer: "I wasn't trying to HURT him, I was just blowing his head off!"---Bass

Red sky at night,

Sailors' delight.

Red sky at morning,

Sailors take warning.

Old American Verse

Chapter Two:

Red Sky At Morning

AC was taking a nap when the door to Jackle's room opened, and the demi-maren himself came through. He bounded past the crow, who was pulling his head from under his wing and blinking sleepily, to bounce onto the balcony. He laughed, white teeth gleaming; then he glanced over his shoulder at AC. "Come on out, sleepy-head! Are you going to sit in there all day?"

AC cawed a retort as he flew to the railing, where he perched and blinked bad-temperedly at the demi-maren. Jackle laughed again and bent down to be eye to eye. "Don't you get enough sleep during the night?"

Were he able to talk, AC probably would have retorted by saying, 'Not with you around!'. As it was, he made do with fluffing himself angrily and beginning a systematic, calculatingly slow preening of his wings, pointedly ignoring Jackle. The demi-maren chuckled. "Okay, okay! I'm sorry I interrupted your nap! Geez, a guy can't get happy around here without having the whole world snap at him…"

He paused, staring out at the land below them confusedly. "So what was I happy about? This whole week's been pot---why was I so happy?"

Another pause; then he answered himself. "It was just so much fun bouncing down the halls like that. Guess I just got happy."

"Over bouncing down the hall?"

"Yeah!" He laughed, a high, breathless tenor. "You jump up and then you come down with a little oomph, but as soon as you get to the 'm' you're already bouncing up again! And…"

AC rubbed his forehead against his wing feathers in several quick strokes, then looked up at Jackle, still blinking. He cawed once, and Jackle stopped talking about bouncing. "What?"

AC cocked his head to one side, looking expectant. Jackle paused; then he cocked his head as well. "You're hungry?"

The crow shook his head. Jackle tried again. "Saw something interesting?"

Another shake of the ebony head. "You want to talk about the day? Know what's going on?"

AC bobbed his head quickly, and Jackle's face broke into a smile of relief. "Oh, okay! Well, hm. Lessee. I was gone a long time, you know…" His companion bobbed again, agreeing with him. "So after you and I talked for a bit, I went to Wizeman's throne room 'cause he called all us High Seekers, right?"

Another bob. "Yeah. Well we got there and he said we were gonna take over the Waking World and told us how great it was and all…and then what would you know but NiGHTS jumps up, grabs the two Ideya, and takes off out the window! He said it was because a whole universe made out to Wizeman's image would be too boring or something like that…ha." He laughed. "The others actually fell for it, too! They don't have the slightest clue why he took off…they all think he's always been a traitor or something. Poor saps, it's so painfully obvious."

AC looked up at his friend, eyes glinting in agreement. Jackle sighed cheerily, leaning onto the railing, hands clasped in front of him loosely. "Oh well…I suppose we can't all be observant, eh? Still, it's such a great joke." He chuckled. "Wizeman having to wait a whole 'nother hundred years, and everyone all wondering why, like the answer hasn't been staring 'em all in the face for the past three weeks! Whoo, what a joke!" He threw back his head and laughed.

AC cawed his own version of merriment, agreeing with every word.

'I miss my brother.'

"What shall I do now, my lord?"

Two great stone hands drifted down slowly, turning slightly to face the Seeker General standing before his ruler. Wizeman's voice was low. "Explain your question."

'My brother's gone and I have no idea what to do and the whole thing's destroyed and I lost my brother and everything's falling and my brother's trapped in a little room for the rest of his life and nothing's right and I've lost my brother.'

"Now that the mission…" He faltered. "…now that it is delayed for a century, what shall I do in the meantime? Shall I maintain our current schedule?"

The great glassy eyes blinked slowly, a sign that Wizeman was thinking. "I am still considering this."

'Say it the way it is You have no idea what to do because everything's fallen apart and you just threw away my brother!'

"Is there anything you wish me to do while you consider?"

"Yes." Wizeman paused, running over all of the options he'd been considering ever since Reala had brought an unconscious NiGHTS to him, the rebellious maren slumped in his brother's arms. "Keep the schedule. All this means is more time for us to build up our strength. Have the younger maren continue to learn, and the older generations to practice. Make training a priority in readiness for the next Courage dreamers. Ideya gathering may be replaced by education for the most part. By the time the convergence comes once again, we will be ready."

'Sure we'll be ready but NiGHTS won't be there.'

"As you wish, my lord." Reala bowed deeply, turned, and stalked out.

Behind him, Wizeman pondered the newer turn of events carefully. Reala was strangely distant, as if he were only half paying attention; not surprising, considering all that he was still trying to grasp a hold of. At the same time, he was certainly a bit more uncertain in his straightforwardness, and Wizeman had a suspicion that the night's events were not the only reason. He himself felt it; a vague, almost distant unsettlement, like a low-lying feeling of queasiness that spread throughout the earth of the Dream World, a net of uncomfort and disturbance. For some odd reason, it reminded him of the aftershocks of an earthquake. Try as he might, he couldn't actually locate the source of the problem; only a nebulous feeling of innate unwellness that stretched throughout the entire realm. He could not for the life of him distinguish what it was. Disturbing.

Leaving Wizeman's throne room, Reala found himself rubbing his chest; a burning irritation had begun bothering him. He'd been caught up in the night's dealings, but he was fairly sure the soreness had begun some time after midnight. It wasn't serious, just a small warm feeling in his chest; still, it was annoying. He'd never had heartburn before, and this somehow felt different anyway.

He rubbed at it again, frustrated with having a physical affliction while he was still trying to regain his mental balance after last night. Everything seemed a bit hazy now. He'd felt so sure of what they were doing as a group, as an army; and yet now, with just a simple act of thievery, everything had fallen apart. It wasn't that simple, actually, he considered as he sat down outside Wizeman's door, too busy trying to understand what was going on and too annoyed by his aching chest to bother with appearances. NiGHTS had gone against everything---everything. He'd deliberately taken away their ability to carry through with their mission.

'Why?' whispered his mind.

He didn't know. Last night he'd been furious, blinded to all else by his consuming rage, his disbelief, his shock. His brother hadn't only betrayed him, he'd betrayed them all. He wanted nothing more than to grab NiGHTS by his hair and throw him into utter oblivion.

But now, in the bright daylight, when the castle was beginning to function properly once more, he had to wonder. Why had NiGHTS done what he did? What was the point? He said something about Wizeman being wrong; Reala couldn't remember much of what had been said, he'd been too focused on gaining revenge to bother with small talk. Well, so Wizeman wasn't always the best ruler. That wasn't a reason to rebel, right?

Didn't he say something about people dying? Well, Reala didn't want unnecessary deaths either; but really, what could you expect in war? Was NiGHTS trying to be some sort of idealist?

'Maybe he's just crazy.' Reala shook his head once, trying to clear his thoughts; they seemed to dance about without his control, always flitting away before he could grasp onto them. He felt very confused. 'What's wrong with him? Why's there something wrong? Why did all this happen?'

"By the Ideya, what's wrong with me?" he snarled, leaping to his feet in anger. His chest throbbed harshly in retaliation, and he was forced to pause, rubbing it tenderly, head bowed.

'I can't let this go on,' he decided mentally. 'I'm the Seeker General. I can't allow myself to get confused and caught up in emotions---the entire nightmaren race is counting on me to be a strong leader. I have to stay focused. I can't become weak.'

He straightened and began marching down the hall, head high, hands at his sides. Inwardly, he felt himself wanting to go back to what had happened, to evaluate it from all sides until he could make sense of it, to study it quietly in a corner until he understood how it worked. But he couldn't. He made his mind walk past the room where the memories and questions sat, forcing it to keep from even glancing at the door. There. When he imagined it like that, it wasn't so hard not to feel confused. He just didn't go near that door.

A wry smirk slowly touched his jagged mouth, and silently he began running over what he would say to the teachers in in connection to what they should now do.

But his chest still burned, murmuring with a vague uneasiness that seemed to reach out from his heart and spread out across a very large distance.

"So, anyone have any idea what the heck's going on?"

"I know that we've been given the day off," drawled Heckler. "That's good enough for me."

"Sure, for you, but some of us can't shut out all important happenings and focus on our own selfish little world as well as you can," retorted Insomnia. "And 'some of us' means all of us except for you. And we want to know what's going on."

Heckler pointedly ignored him. The rest of the students gathered about exchanged glances; finally Nyct spoke. "Anyone hear anything from the teachers?"

"No." Insomnia sounded disappointed. "They're all holed up in the teachers' lounge, talking in whispers. Even Amaranth and Tynan are in there."

"Whoof." Emil slumped down on a stone bench next to Aniline, rubbing his wounded arm absent-mindedly. "A golgoth attacks, NiGHTS takes off, and now all of the adults are locked in their little room whispering. Something's up, that's for sure."

"A pity we don't know what it is." Aniline slid further down on her seat.

"S'no different from the normal round of things," muttered Jitters. "We never know what's going on around here until it hits us in the face."

"Yeah, I wasn't told I was going into the lancers until the day before."

"Reala shuffled us all around with only a day's warning," reminded Strix quietly. His sister Varia swallowed unpleasantly.

"Yeah. I wasn't told I was going to be taking care of a bunch of bloody people in advance."

"Complaining about it isn't going to make things better," observed PM quietly. As usual, his words of wisdom were greeted with various groans and cries for mercy.

"PM!"

"Aw, shut up, PM."

"Oh, great, doesn't that make everything fine!"

"Thanks, now we feel a lot better!"

"You think, PM?"

Postmeridian winced and sheltered his chest with one hand as if to ward off the verbal blows. Chaotica whapped Heckler over the back of the head. "Knock it off, moron."

Heckler did so, shrugging his shoulders in a 'What would you have me do?' gesture. Chaotica chuckled and leaned over the back of the bench, looking at Varia; her voice became more serious as she changed the topic. "How's Aster?"

The girl swallowed, memories of the wounds she'd treated several days ago still fresh in her mind. "All right. Miss Stella says that she'll be fine in a few days after she gets over the concussion effects…but she says there's no hope for her eye."

The group fell silent under this grim reminder. Jitters cleared her throat hesitantly. "Is she---y'know---scarred for life?"

Strix placed a comforting hand on his sister's shoulder as her face turned a bit pale. "No, not really," she replied. "But her eye's lost almost all color…I'm not sure why. Miss Stella says it's something with the nerves or something…"

"Nerve endings." Strix took up the explanation almost without thinking. "If the blow hit near her eye, it probably damaged the nerve endings. I'm not sure why it lost its color, though."

"And it's not all of it, either." Something about speaking to her brother seemed to calm the healer in training down, as her face returned to its normal color. "There's still a little bit of pale blue, like most of the color washed out or something. It's like her eye was bleached. I've never seen anything like it."

Strix frowned absently. "Neither have I. But then, I haven't seen many serious wounds like that---usually all we have to treat are training wounds and Minion scratches. Nothing as serious as that."

"Strix!"

The boy jerked his head up, looking for whoever had called his name. "What?" Around him, the gathered teens all focused on the maren who'd called for him.

A young girl was streaking across the courtyard, hair streaming behind her in a tangled mess, her tattered clothes rippling in the wind caused by her desperate flight. Her eyes were wide in fright. "Strix!"

Strix slipped into her path, hoping to stop her from harming herself by hitting something. "What? What's happened?"

The girl pulled up just in time to keep from colliding with him, and instantly began sobbing. "There's been another attack!"

"Lord Reala?"

The maren in question gave a 'hm' sound that could be translated as a command to continue speaking, or at least the messenger hoped so. He cleared his throat. "Miss Luna sent me to find you, sir. Shall I tell her I've found you?"

"Hn." Reala gave another small breath of sound, this one meant to express his annoyance rather then act as an answer. 'What does that maren want now?'

He looked back down at his book, realizing after a moment that the messenger was still present, waiting respectfully for an answer. "Yes, tell her to come here," he said, not looking up.

"No need to, Emil." The sparring instructor stood in the doorway, expression set, her eyes filled with a strange emotion Emil couldn't quite pin down. She gave him a nod and jerked her head towards the door. Emil bowed politely and left, closing the door to Reala's room on his way out.

Luna turned to face her superior only to find him solemnly perusing a book, his attention focused solely on the writing therein. She waited for a moment, then cleared her throat; her message was too urgent to wait until the general decided to notice her. "Lord Reala, there are some disturbing events you need to know about…"

"If it's anything less than another rebelling maren, chances are I don't," he muttered, closing the book and finally giving her a glance. "Is it important?"

"Very much, sir."

"Very well, then, what is it?"

"We've…had another attack, sir."

"What?" He gave her a calculating look. His tone, when he spoke, had changed from bored leader to full-blooded general. "What happened? When?"

"Just a short time past, we believe…"

"You believe?"

"We're not sure, actually. All we know is that there's another dangerous creature out there."

"Is that it?"

She blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

He looked back down at his book. "We purged the dream world of hundreds of beasts in earlier years, Luna. One more isn't going to matter."

"But sir, if there's one, that means there's more, and several dream beasts---"

"I did say hundreds, did I not?"

"But this is dangerous---"

Fed up, he whirled on her, glaring. "What makes you think this is so critical?"

Finally, a question she had a good answer to. Luna swallowed, still feeling a small tightness in her stomach at the thought.

"They've killed a maren."