Seihad

by TK Takaishi

After fifteen years of lies, the Khaydarin Empire finally launches its invasion with frightening force. As the prophesied Final Seihad escalates, the only hope of salvation lies with six stand-masters who must relive the legacy of Adun…and surpass it.

8. Seihad Chapter Eight

Disclaimer: Me no own Digimon. Seihad: Chapter Eight

By: TK Takaishi

**June 8th, A.S. 522. Eight days later**

The man nervously raised the hood of his Ichijoujan robes as he strode quickly through the broad, paved streets of Halidan, the capital of Ichijouji. He adjusted the strap of the leather satchel he carried over one shoulder. Although the war had thinned the traffic of merchants, citizens and traders somewhat, there were still many stubborn people who refused to abandon their home nation, war or no war. As a result, the streets were still crowded. The only difference was that the crowd was no longer the usual bustle of hawkers and merchants, chanting loudly to attract customers. Now, armed soldiers seemed to be everywhere one turned, and citizens walked by with their heads down and their mouths shut. Even the stubborn hawkers that were left seemed to be merely talking rather than shouting to avoid attracting the attention of the wearied and harassed soldiers.

As the man turned the corner, he shook his head at the evidence of a recent riot. A major one seemed to happen almost every week now.  The situation with foreign traders had always been bad, but fear from the war was fanning the sparks of ethnic hatred to a dangerously high pitch. Ken's forces were stretched to their breaking point just trying to get them to stop lynching every Shienar or Yagami trader that frequented the harbours. The windows of three shops were smashed, and hastily patched up again with patches of canvas and makeshift lengths of rope. The signs of several more shops were conspicuously missing; they had probably been destroyed by the crowd. Someone had conscientiously spread sawdust on the paved street to mask the blood. And most telling of all, there were two bored guards that stood at the intersection, keeping an eye on the street.

Quickly, the man pulled his hood even lower and turned away before the guards could see him. Despite his disguise, they might have recognized him and he couldn't afford to be delayed with polite but awkward questions. He was already late. Nervously, the man checked over his shoulder again as he strode off. There was nobody there. Turning back, he silently rebuked himself for getting too jumpy as he readjusted the strap of his satchel again. He had taken every precaution. There was no way that anyone would be able to find him. Even Ken didn't have an inkling. Still, he couldn't stop himself from reaching into his pocket and fingering the cold, metal mirrireid within. He didn't know why, but although touching the thing made him slightly sick to the stomach, he was always reassured when he did it. The calm, soothing voice, full of dark power, smoothed over his frayed nerves, and now he found himself depending on that voice more and more…

Finally, the man turned the corner and stepped into one of the poorer streets in the city. He grimaced with distaste as he passed a midden heap and the run-down shacks that the peasants of the country were forced to live in. Despite himself, he could not help but hold his robes a little higher, lest the hem be soiled by the ground. When he was halfway into the street, the man looked up and a small lump of nervous fear and expectation shot through him. The Notch was one of seediest and most secluded bars in the city. Rarely frequented by anyone of notable rank, the place was a gathering place for the dregs of the city, like the common peasants, the rural farmers who came in often to sell their wares, and petty criminals who did not want to risk being discovered by the officials. Which made it perfect for his purposes. Scurrying furtively to the dirty door, the man paused for a moment as he checked both sides of the street again.

Seeing no-one, he took a deep breath and pushed the door open. Stepping inside, he paused for a moment to let his eyes adjust to the gloom inside after the bright sunlight on the street. Squinting, he peered around the bar, trying to determine which table to sit at.

The patrons cast quick, uncaring glances at the stranger. They saw only a short, aging man with his hood down, and no visible weapons. One glance was all it took to determine that he was no threat, and one by one they turned back to their drinks without a word. All of them, that is, except one.

The man felt a tight lump of fear forming in his throat as he made himself walk across the bar to the table in the back corner. The patron that sat at the table looked completely ordinary. He was clad in the plain linen of a middle-class worker, and his open and honest face was the type that people forgot after two minutes. Before him was a mug of ale and a pipe, which he was in the middle of filling. A perfectly acceptable past-time for a farmer. Indeed, the only odd thing about the man was the black cloak that lay folded neatly on the chair next to him, despite the noon-time heat.

As the man set down the satchel beside his seat and sat down at the table, the patron looked up with a slight smile that did not quite reach his pale eyes. "You're late," the farmer said quietly.

"There was a riot yesterday in the main street," the man replied nervously. "There were some watchmen guarding the street. I didn't want to be recognized, so I had to take a detour."

"Don't let it happen again."

"No, of course not," the man mumbled. Then he sighed. "Must I come out all this way to speak to you? The guards seem to be buying the excuse that I need to stretch my old legs on an afternoon walk everyday. But I do have appearances to uphold in the Ichijoujan court…"

"I cannot get to you in the castle," the farmer said calmly. "My cloak is useless against Emperor Ken's stand senses. It would be unduly dangerous, for both of us, if I were to come to you."

The man nodded reluctantly. He didn't mention the possibility of reporting straight to the Emperor through his mirrireid. The miserable failure with the assassination of King Aidan had banished that possibility from his mind right away. Indeed, it would be impossible for Emperor Ken to not notice him the instant he used his mirrireid.

"Do you have what I came for?" the farmer continued.

The man nodded again. He reached down and patted the leather satchel he had been carrying.

"It's all in here," the man said. "Everything you asked for. Detailed information on the deployment of the Ichijoujan troops, straight from the general's tables. Weaknesses of the walls. Troop strengths. It was not easy having to memorize everything at one glance, then draw it out again at night. But…"

"But?" the farmer said, frowning.

The man shifted uncomfortably. "It's in the satchel as well," he said slowly. "But I may as well tell you now. Ichijouji has received fresh reinforcements of close to two thousand soldiers from various nations. Apparently the stand-masters have been busy. That includes seven hundred Taelidani warriors, from T'rakul Davis's staven as well."

The farmer raised an eyebrow. "We will adjust our strategies accordingly," he said, without betraying a hint of alarm. "This is a setback, but rest assured, it is only a minor one." Then the farmer's pale eyes narrowed, and his voice lowered to a menacing hiss. "But did you find out anything about the conference? Specifically where?"

The man shook his head. "No," he admitted. "Emperor Ken tells me many things, but not this. He tells me that it's not that he doesn't trust me, but only because it would upset the other stand-masters if he told me. In truth…," the man sighed. "I won't have the faintest idea until we set out."

"That's not acceptable."

"I've tried everything," the man said desperately, gripping the table until his knuckles turned white. "You have to believe me! Emperor Ken won't write it down, so I can't steal it. He won't even tell Talin, his personal Captain. None of the generals know. They've only been told to prepare enough troops to protect the Emperor on his journey there, and to stock enough provisions for a ten day trip."

"A column of men can ride a long way in ten days," the farmer hissed. "We are running out of time, bearer. The conference is less than two weeks away, and we don't know where it is yet. We'll need at least several days to get our troops there!"

"The stand-masters are not stupid," the man said desperately, "they protect their secrets well. Is there no-one else that can find out the place?"

"No," the farmer said. "No spy is as close to a stand-master as you are."

"Then…then…"

"Then there's nothing for it." The farmer reached across the table, grabbed the man's arm, and pulled him close until their faces were only inches apart. "This is your most important mission yet, bearer, so listen carefully."

"I'm listening," the man stuttered, trying to ignore the shooting pains up his arm from the vice-like grip.

"If we can't find out where the conference is taking place," the farmer hissed. "Then you will have to make sure that you are on the team that Emperor Ken selects to go with him to the conference. Even if you tell us where it is, it is likely we won't be able to get forces to where you are in time to disrupt the conference, so you'll be on your own. Once there, you will have to stop it somehow. Kill the stand-masters if you can. If you cannot, target the monarchs. Anything. Make certain that it fails."

The man gulped his fear down. "I…I've never killed anyone before…"

"Then you'd better learn fast," the farmer said. The man suddenly looked down. The farmer was pressing something long and cold into his hand. When he saw what it was, he suddenly began to shake all over. His hand trembling, he held the object up to the light. The ten-inch long piece of cold evil glittered faintly in the bar's dim light.

"I hope you know what that is," the farmer said as he stared into the man's eyes.

"I…I've never used anything like-"

"You will have only one shot," the farmer continued impassively, "then you'll have to spend several minutes rewinding the spring for another shot. But it will be one shot they won't expect. Use it well, bearer."

He released the man's arm, and sat back in his chair, his face as composed as if the incident had never happened. "You should also be certain that you leave the Ichijoujan delegation leaves Halidan within the next ten days."

The man rubbed at his sore arm. "Why's that?"

"Because, bearer," the farmer said as he struck a match and lit his pipe, "ten days from now, cloaked Khaydarin forces will lay an impenetrable siege around the city. Emperor Ken would not be able to go to the conference, and you would not be able to disrupt it."

An icy tingle of fear ran down the spy's spine. He opened his mouth, then closed it again as he worked frantically to untie the knot in his throat. When he spoke again, his voice was a strangled whisper. "That soon?" he croaked. "You never told me…"

"We're telling you now," the farmer said. "With the tactical information you are going to hand over to me here, our forces should be able to mount the final push in a week's time. Without Ken Ichijouji to guide them, the victory will be swift." His expression softened slightly, and his eyes took on a faintly fanatical gleam. "This destructive war will be over much sooner because of your help, bearer. Remember the lives you are going to save…" Then the farmer extended a hand. "Now, if there is no further business, give me the satchel, and we will conclude our meeting.

The spy stared at the hand a second too long. When the farmer started to frown, the man hurriedly reached down to the leather satchel beside his seat, and hefted it onto the table. He was about to hand the satchel over to the farmer when his hand started to shake.

Both men looked at the shaking hand, less than an inch from the farmer's outstretched palm. The fingers were spasming and the man had to struggle to hold onto the satchel, lest it drop onto the table.

"What is wrong, bearer?"

Sweat poured down the man's face. Contorted expressions raced across his face as the shaking spread to his arm. "I…I don't know. I…I…I can't hand this bag over to you. There must have been something I forgot, but…"

"You will hand that satchel to me now, bearer," the farmer said quietly.

The muscles in the man's left cheek began to twitch in a nervous tic. "I…I can't. There was…there was…."

"Remember where your loyalties lie, bearer," the farmer intoned, as if chanting from some hidden scroll. "Remember the Dark Lord. Remember his strength. Hold onto that strength…"

The shaking increased. The man's fingers closed tightly on the leather satchel, and the hand began to move back. "No…," he muttered as tears began to streak down his face. "This is wrong…this is…"

The farmer sighed around the pipestem and held up his own hand. A mirrireid was tied to his palm. He reached over, and pressed the mirrireid into the man's forehead.

The talisman flared a brief red, then faded again. The man gasped as the shaking instantly ceased, and his eyes turned blank. His tic disappeared and his face relaxed into a neutral expression. An audible sigh escaped his lips as he appeared to deflate in his chair.

Satisfied, the farmer retrieved his mirrireid. "Give me the satchel, bearer," he said softly.

The other started. "Of…of course," he said quickly. Handing over the satchel quickly, he put the bag into the farmer's hand.

"Good," the farmer said, smiling that hollow grin of his again. "Remember the Dark Lord. Remember his strength. Hold onto his strength…"

"Forgive me," the man said. "I forgot."

"See that you don't forget again," the farmer said as he got up to leave. "You're doing the right thing. Trust me…"

Then, the farmer hefted his black cloak over his shoulder and tossed the barkeep some change to pay for his ale. The man saw the farmer open the doors, check both sides of the street carefully, then turn left with the satchel held securely under his arm.

The man himself stayed at the bar for a long time. His brow furrowed as he tried to remember what had happened. Something had happened, but he couldn't recall it. It was as if someone had taken a sponge to his memory. For half an hour, he stayed at the table, staring off into space. It was only when the barkeep threatened to throw him out that he got up, nodded to the barkeep, and started on his way back to the castle.

Something had happened, yes, but it would have to wait to be sorted out. He hadn't been lying to the farmer. He had appearances to keep up with. If he did not get back soon, his place on the Ichijoujan Council would be missed.

**********

**June 20th, A.S. 522. The day before the conference**

Kari heaved a sigh of relief as they finally emerged from the deep pine forests. Beside her, Cody relaxed visibly as he released his grip on the yew bow he had been carrying for the past week. Stepping out of the deep shade of the forest they had been traveling in for the past several days, Cody squinted and sheltered his eyes with his hands as he looked at the afternoon sun hovering over the mountains' edge. Then he turned and locked gazes with Kari.

"We made it without incident," he said with a slight trace of wonder in his voice. "After what Davis and Yolei went through, I can't believe it."

Privately, Kari agreed. She still couldn't believe that the rough but large fortress that stood at the bottom of the green mountain valley before them was really Ardinberg. Aside from her first glimpse of Palas, Kari didn't think she had ever seen a more welcome sight in her life. The white turrets and battlements rose proudly into the air, reflecting the bright morning sun until they resembled impregnable walls of light. Even from here, Kari could see the busy traffic of Saldean soldiers as they rode in and out of the main gate of the castle, and patrolled the top of the wall's ramparts. Some of them had already seen her party, and already the clear notes of horns were filling the air as their presence was announced. Atop their many towers and arches, the proud colours of Ishida were soaring in the wind. Kari smiled as she saw the familiar golden meteor arcing across a field of deep royal blue. The flag that had not flown for more than twenty years was finally flying once again. Takeru had raised the banner of Ishida.

Behind them, Cody's group of thirty Shienar soldiers were accompanied by Kari's own group of thirty Yagami soldiers, diplomats and councilors. The sun glistened off their polished green and white armour. Aidan had agreed that his men should look their best when attending an event of this magnitude. A murmur was already passing through the group of men as they looked around the valley and at the large fortress hidden in the depths of the mountain wilderness.

"We made better time than I had hoped," Aidan said as he rode beside Kari and Cody on his white stallion. Dressed in his best robes of Yagami white and silver, the King fairly shimmered in the sunlight. "We may have time for my men to rest for a little before the negotiations begin." He blinked as another round of horns sounded out. "And the Saldeans are certainly giving us quite a welcome."

"They certainly are," Kari agreed as the huge bronze door began to swing ponderously open to admit them. Several guards dressed in Royal Ishidan blue rode out of the door on swift horses. Without a word, they rode up to meet the Yagami party, the fell into formation on either side. This time, Kari even saw Cody smile. An honour guard. Lord Marc and Takeru had really outdone themselves this time.

Although Kari had been to Ardinberg before, it had been so long that it took her a moment to recognize the familiar features. Behind the fortress, the large sedimentary shelf of the mountain ended abruptly over a three hundred foot drop of sheer, smooth stone, completely unclimbable, and on both sides the mountain cliffs rose upwards like twin sentinels guarding one of Ishida's last remaining bastions from harm. The only route into the fortress was through the front, and that was protected by a layered, twenty-foot thick stone wall that fairly bristling with turrets and arrow-slits. Ardinberg was one fortress that would not go down without a fight.

The forest around Ardinberg had been cleared for two kilometers around the fortress so that no enemy could approach the fortress unseen. Even so, the trip from the edge of the forest to the gates of the fortress took less than ten minutes. The trio did not speak further as they rode down the path to Ardinberg. Indeed, they could not. The trumpets that the guards on top of the fortress's ramparts made conversation impossible. For the first time in weeks, Kari allowed herself to relax as they rode into the protected walls of Ardinberg, possibly the most secure fortress in Gaea. If they were not safe here, they would not be safe anywhere.

Inside the fortress's walls, more soldiers dressed in the colours of the Ishidan royal guard (blue and gold), had formed up on both sides of the central pathway to the building itself. Aidan looked around amused at the honour guard that stood stiffly at attention on either side of him as he approached the building itself. Only the captains were carrying were carrying their ceremonial jeweled swords, which they held stiffly at their sides. The rest of the men were unarmed.

"I had never known," he muttered as he leaned towards Kari, "that Lord Marc had managed to organize such an effective force. I had always thought Ishida had been shattered beyond repair."

"Whatever doesn't kill the Ishidans," Cody grunted, "can only make them stronger." There was grudging admiration in his voice as well.

"Were you expecting tents and picket lines, with unshaven, ill-fed soldiers guarding them?" Kari said with a twinkle in her eye.

Aidan hesitated, but Kari could read the answer in the slightly bemused expression on his face. "I thought so," she said.

"An impressive feat indeed," Aidan murmured as they approached the building itself. "An organized army, a fortress, and apparently the capacity to support it all in the fields I saw earlier. I must meet this man who rebuilt this province in less than fifteen years. We may have more to discuss than I thought…"

"You will," Kari assured him. "There is Lord Marc. And…" Her voice caught in her throat.

"Ah," King Aidan said as he squinted ahead at the two figures in front of the fortress. "I see."

Their mounted Ishidan honour guards stopped before the steps of the fortress, and the Yagami and Shienar delegation ground to a halt as well. Before them, two men stepped forward from the front steps. The larger and older one, who had a neatly trimmed brown beard flecked with gray, stepped up to Lord Aidan with a wide smile. "As Marc, son of Martin, Lord of Saldea, I welcome you to Ardinberg," he said, holding out his hands to encompass the three of them. "King Aidan of all Yagami, Lady Hikari, Lord Cody, we are honoured by your presence, and illumined by your wisdom. May the Lord God light your path always."

Kari looked at Cody, and the younger stand-master tilted his head. Neither of them said a word as Aidan dismounted slowly, then stepped forward.

"We are gratified," the King said graciously. "May the Lord be with you and your kin forevermore." Reaching out he took Lord Marc's hand and shook it gravely. "So…you are the man behind all this? I must say, my Lord, I am most impressed."

The grin on Marc's face warmed. "I had help, my Lord. I have heard of you, King Aidan, and I have long wanted to speak to the man that held a struggling nation together in the wake of her Queen's death. We must talk sometime."

"Oh yes, indeed," Aidan said as he turned to look at the man beside Marc. "And…would you do me the honour of introducing me to this young man?"

"Oh!" Lord Marc said, looking surprised. He shot a brief look at Kari, who only shrugged. "Where are my manners? I have forgotten to introduce you." He swept out his hand to indicate the second man. "This, King Aidan, is Emperor Takeru of all Ishida."

Cody saw Aidan start visibly at the name, then turn to focus his hawk-like eyes better at Takeru. It was an understandable mistake. As usual, Takeru was not wearing anything exceedingly royal. His white silk shirt was elegant and form-fitting, but not any more formal than Lord Marc's own clothes. The deep blue cloak that hung from his shoulders bore the royal crest of Ishida, but then so did most of Ardinberg's soldiers' cloaks. He wore no crown and no signet ring, and the sword Ichibou was sheathed in a plain scabbard at his side. Next to Aidan, who was dressed in the full regalia of the Yagami King, he seemed like nothing more than a servant.

Kari however, was struggling unsuccessfully to hide her joyous grin behind a calm exterior. Her crimson eyes were fixed on Takeru, as if she could see nothing else besides him. Cody's mouth twitched as a hint of something approaching amusement flickered across his face.

For his part, Takeru merely stepped forward. Smiling slightly, he extended his hand to shake Aidan's. "Welcome to the conference, King Aidan of all Yagami," he said softly.

Aidan rallied valiantly. Closing his mouth, he reached out and grasped Takeru's hand warmly. "Takeru…Ishida," he breathed. "Forgive me. Of course…your age…your hair…how could I have not known? So…you are the stand-master that has so inspired Lady Hikari."

"Hmm," Takeru said thoughtfully, as he turned to give Kari a quick glance. Kari merely arched an eyebrow, an amused smile playing on her lips. Before she could say or send a thought-shape however, Takeru had turned back to Aidan.

"I'm sure she had many things to say about me," he said, carefully choosing his words so that they sounded as neutral as possible. "And in the coming week, I'm sure you will be able to know me first-hand. But for now, I'm sure that your men are wearied from the journey. I trust you had a safe journey?"

Aidan nodded, looking relieved. "We did indeed. We have traveled hard and fast, but thankfully, we did not encounter Khaydarin."

"Thank the Creator for that," Takeru said simply, but with heartfelt expression. "But where are my manners? My servants will show you to your quarters immediately. Your men must be wearied by the journey. All other delegations, save the one from Ichijouji, have arrived already."

Kari's expression did not change, but beside her Cody's gray eyes flicked towards her as he felt her thought-shape frown suddenly. Takeru, she thought anxiously. I had been hoping that we could-

"Lord Marc would be happy to give you a tour of Ardinberg," Takeru continued smoothly as his gaze flickering briefly to Kari. There was a hint of reproach in his eyes, so faint that Kari was sure she was the only one who had seen it.

Did you really think I would forget? His returning thought-shape seemed positively hurt.

Kari schooled her face into an expressionless mask to hide her smile as Takeru continued as if nothing had happened. "The attendants will take care of your horses and your supplies. If you have any problems or concerns, please do not hesitate to bring them up with Lord Marc."

Aidan frowned. "Are you not joining us?"

"I will, later," Takeru assured the King. "You will certainly see me at the banquet tonight. And believe me, I would love nothing more than to accompany you on your tour. But you must understand. I have much to prepare before my presentation at the conference. And…," he leaned closer, "it…would not do…for appearances."

A look of understanding flooded Aidan's face. He raised his eyebrows as he peered into Takeru's eyes.

Takeru could not be seen showing favour to any one King or Queen. Lord Marc, as a monarch himself, was allowed to interact with the others. The stand-masters were allowed to ally themselves with their respective countries. But Takeru was supposed to be the Ishidan Emperor, the one nation that had not involved itself in a war with any other country. The one, truly objective arbitrator. The monarchs had only agreed to come because they would be under the protection of the stand-masters. However, despite the fact that all the monarchs had decided to come, only a fool would claim that tensions did not exist.

In the end, Takeru was purposely distancing himself from the others. At least, for now. If he was seen giving one King or Queen more attention than the others, ugly accusations would surely start to fly. In many ways, the conference had already begun. The game, at least, had started. Aidan looked at Takeru with a new expression of grudging respect. Takeru was staring back with real regret in his eyes.

The silent flash of thought between the two men lasted only a few seconds. Aidan made a mental note to himself to never try manipulating this man. And heaven help any foolish enough to try. So very young. And yet, already so well-versed in the political game of nations.

"Of course," Aidan said, nodding imperiously. "I look forward to the conference. We have much to discuss as well."

Takeru's face split into a broad smile. "So do we all." He swept out a hand to indicate the door. "I hope you enjoy your stay, King Aidan."

"I'm sure I will," Aidan said, returning the smile. Then he motioned to his men and the Yagami delegation followed Lord Marc into the depths of Ardinberg.

For a moment the three stand-masters were left standing alone outside the door.

Then Kari turned and hugged Takeru. Hard. No amount of self-control could repress the laugh that now burst forth. Clearly embarrassed, but nonetheless pleased, Takeru returned the embrace with a smile.

"I'm hurt," Takeru murmured into her ear. "Did you really think that after several years apart, I would be more interested in escorting a King around Ardinberg?"

Kari didn't say anything. She didn't dare open her eyes, lest the tears in them become visible. Instead, she laid her cheek on Takeru's shoulder, and allowed herself to be swept away in his warm embrace. "I didn't doubt you for a moment," she said into his shoulder. Then she lowered her voice as she leaned closer. "What say we finish that kiss we started?"

A faint blush crept across Takeru's cheeks. He laughed out loud, then gently pulled her away. "Not now," he admonished. "Time enough for that later."

Cody stepped forward, and Takeru gave him a bear hug of greeting as well, which Cody returned awkwardly. "Still as stiff as ever, I see," Takeru teased. "You haven't changed a bit."

"Sticking by the rules is what has kept me alive," Cody returned indignantly. He paused for a moment. Then conceded, "Though I suppose in other times, it should be all right to let loose a little."

"Of course," Takeru said, matching his solemn tone. "You're absolutely right." His expression softened slightly. "You don't know how good it is to see you two."

"You too," Cody said as he smiled. "May I say that you haven't changed either."

Takeru ran his hand through his hair. "All this royalty stuff is getting to me," he admitted. "Sometimes, I wish I wasn't the Emperor. At least I would be free. Free from all the bureaucrats and diplomats, and this awfully…tedious game of politics."

"You're good at it," Cody observed.

"I have to be," Takeru said, making a face. "But I hate it."

Kari laughed as she slipped her arm around Takeru's and clasped his hand. "I know exactly what you mean," she admitted. "Have the others arrived yet?"

At this, Takeru stepped back. "Come with me," he said, in a strangely guarded tone.

Kari and Cody exchanged glances, then decided to keep their mouths shut. Whatever the answer to Kari's question was, it was clearly something that Takeru did not want to discuss in public. So, holding her curiosity in check, Kari followed Takeru into the fortress. Swiftly, Takeru led them through the rough, bare stone of the lower levels to the staircases, where they climbed up into the slightly more luxurious second level. Here, the hallways were carpeted, and wide windows opened onto the inner courtyard of the fortress. Someone had made an attempt to soften the interior by installing bronze torch scones along the walls every few meters. There were even some paintings of past Saldean lords and suits of armour that dotted the hallways.

Despite the luxurious fittings however, Ardinberg was still a fortress, not a palace. Kari noted that the windows that looked inward on her right were the only ones that were wide. The ones that looked outward were spaced far apart and were nothing more than narrow slits. Looking through one of the wide windows on her right as she passed, Kari spied large gardens of fruit and food being tended by servants and gardeners in the inner courtyards. Sources of food to shore up supplies in the case of a siege. Kari was willing to bet that somewhere underground, in the foundations of the fortress, Marc had ensured that there would be at least several wells sunk into the rocky ground.

Finally, Takeru turned aside, and pushed open one of the many oak doors that led off the corridor. Without hesitation, he stepped through the tall portal and disappeared into the room. Kari and Cody exchanged glances again, then followed him together.

Inside, the large conference room was all but empty. A huge mahogany table, polished by the servants until it gleamed like a mirror, dominated the center of the chamber. Tall, padded chairs surrounded it, each with a corresponding candle-stick placed in front of it. At the moment, none of them were lit. The only illumination came from the large window that looked over the courtyard. The morning sunlight that came slanting in through the glass lit up the golden dust motes that floated lazily in the still air. Kari took in all of it at a glance.

Then her eyes widened as she saw the people sitting by the table.

"Davis!" she exclaimed. "Yolei! You're here!"

The Taelidani leaders rose from their chairs as Kari hurried towards them. When she reached them, she gave them both a big hug. "It's good to see you again," she said sincerely as she released Yolei at last. "I trust that the rest of your journey was uneventful?"

Davis nodded his head with a rueful grin. "After that fiasco in the bamboo forests outside Fan-Tzu, the patrols seemed to leave us alone. Or perhaps, they were too busy trying to recover that they didn't even notice that we passed. King San and Queen Ida are now safe in Ardinberg."

Kari's face turned serious. "And did you hear from any of your men?"

The grin on Yolei's face faltered. "Some of them have started to trickle back in groups, just like we ordered them to," she said. "So far, out of a hundred men, only…sixty came back. And by now, anyone who isn't back…probably isn't coming back."

Cody stepped forward. "It is the Taelidani way to die in battle," he said solemnly.

Davis shook his head and grinned as he embraced Cody. "A right ray of sunshine you are," he teased. He was grinning his usual boyish grin, even if it did seemed slightly strained. "You haven't changed a bit since we last saw you. Lighten up a little. Their lives will not be sacrificed in vain."

"No, they will not," Takeru affirmed from the other side of the room. "They certainly will not." The four stand-masters turned to see him closing the thick, sound-proofed doors to the conference room. Once he had, he sighed, rearranged his robes, and came over to join them at the table.

Something about his demeanor halted the friendly banter between the four stand-masters immediately. Takeru no longer seemed to hold himself as upright as before. In the privacy of the conference room, he had abandoned his Emperor's mask. He still looked calm. He still looked gracious. But now a weariness could be seen in his blue eyes and in the slight slump of his shoulders.

Takeru pulled out a chair for himself and sat down in it. "I have news of some importance," he said as he folded his hands on the table. "But first, I want to hear from you. Kari, Cody, look around. Tell me what's missing."

Kari looked around in puzzlement, then her frown deepened as she realized what Takeru was talking about. "Where's Ken?" she asked. "It's not like Ken to be late for something of this importance."

"I don't know," Takeru confessed. "I was hoping you would have some news about him, and why he's late."

Cody shook his head. "Sorry, no," he said. "We were pretty out of touch when we were traveling here. The last time we saw him was a week ago, on the Perenic plane along with the rest of you. As I recall, he was pretty hard pressed, but he promised to be here on time."

"Can't you contact him on the thought-plane?" Kari asked.

"We tried last night," Davis interjected as he shook his head, "when we were reasonably sure nothing disastrous or urgent was happening. No luck. Couldn't find him on the thought-plane." He frowned. "I can't imagine why he'd be ignoring our summons. He should be able to feel them even when asleep."

"Can we try now?" Kari said worriedly.

"Things may have gotten worse in Ichijouji," Davis said tightly. "It would be terrible if he fell into a trance in the middle of a battle."

"I was thinking the same thing," Takeru affirmed. "And I was also hoping that you two would bring me some news. Davis and Yolei have already told me they didn't have any."

"You probably know more than me," Kari confessed. "Sorry, no help here."

Takeru sighed and leaned back in his chair. He exchanged grim glances with Davis. "I think it would be best," Takeru said, "to send out scouts right away. If I could trouble you one more time, my friend, would you send out some of your fastest mounted scouts to Ichijouji by this afternoon?"

"Why not use some of Marc's Saldean soldiers?" Cody interjected.

"Taelidani are much better at hiding themselves," Takeru explained simply. "If…well…if the situation in Ichijouji has indeed taken a turn for the worse, I want the scouts to return alive."

Davis nodded. "I will see to it."

"Thank you," Takeru said. Then he took an almost imperceptible breath.

Kari was immediately on the alert. Takeru was good at hiding his emotions when he wanted to, but he had never managed to hide them from her. The signs were all over him. The slight stiffening of his shoulders, the way his face had frozen as if he was steeling himself to do something. If she really concentrated, she bet she could even pick up the slight increase in his breathing. Something was up.

"I have a confession to make," Takeru said. "I have been keeping something from you during our last few meetings. Something of utmost importance."

At that, Davis, Yolei and Cody, who had not picked up the signs, sat up straighter in their chairs as well. As one, they looked at Takeru with expressions of intense interest. Takeru paused for a moment, then continued.

"Remember two weeks ago, what Davis told us about his encounter with that Praetor that saved him? And what he revealed about Yamato?"

The stand-masters nodded. Takeru went on. "Actually, I already knew that he wasn't with Khaydarin anymore. I knew almost five weeks ago. When Yamato met me on the thought-plane and challenged me to a duel to the death."

In her chair, Kari suddenly turned sheet white. Davis and Cody exchanged stunned glances. Yolei stood up so abruptly, her heavy chair teetered briefly on two legs before settling back with a loud thump. "You knew?" she said sharply.

"I accepted the challenge," Takeru continued calmly.

"You accepted?!" Yolei shrieked. "Takeru, I have never met this…this brother of yours, but I did see the wound he carved in your side. Are you insane?!"

Takeru only smiled slightly in response, and raised a hand to forestall any further shouting or protests. "Yolei, calm down. I knew the risks. I am not a reckless boy anymore."

"Yet you walk into the risk anyway," Yolei said, refusing to be calmed. "Doesn't that make you even more reckless?!"

"It doesn't matter," Takeru said. "It paid off. We met in real-life and dueled almost three weeks ago."

This time, even Yolei was stunned into silence. She sat down slowly, as if she still didn't quite believe what she was hearing. Davis and Cody were similarly frozen. By now, Kari had turned so pale that her face almost matched the colour of her snow-white Yagami cloak. Her slim hands were clasped together so tightly that the knuckles were turning white as well.

"And?" she asked, so quietly that Takeru had to strain to hear her. "What happened?"

Takeru unfolded his hands and pressed them palm-down onto the table. "I managed to get out of the 'death' part of the duel," he said flatly. "Nobody died. I obviously didn't die, but I didn't have to kill Yamato either."

"Instead, we talked." Takeru stared at each stand-master in turn, as if pleading for their support. "Even…even if he's done some terrible things before, he's still my brother after all. He is still Ishidan, and part of Gaea. Doesn't that mean that we should at least try to save him? To show him our way, as we do to everyone else? After all, the Lord's love is unconditional. Why should we be any different?"

Davis shook his head. "You…you tried to convince him to join our side," he said. "You're out to save everybody. Even those that try to kill you. That's just so…so you."

"Just about everyone at this conference has tried to kill each other at some point or other," Takeru pointed out, "If they are not willing to forgive, then what's the point of this conference?"

"Point," Davis said, nodding reluctantly.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Cody rasped.

Takeru blew out a breath from his mouth, and folded his hands again. "I'm sorry," he said, "but I thought that…before the duel…it would be best to not give you a chance to talk me out of it. I was determined to see this through, and I didn't want to worry you. After all, it's my brother, my problem. It didn't concern you. And after, well, I thought it would be best to tell you what happened in person. It was only important. Not urgent."

"Didn't concern us?" Yolei repeated. "No, Takeru, that is not how it works." Standing up, she jabbed a finger at Takeru. "Friends don't do that to one another, and friends don't worry about each other's reactions. Look, we stick together, okay? To the rest of the world, you may have to play 'Emperor'. But here, you're among friends. When you've got a problem, it's our problem."

Takeru sat back, a slightly touched expression in his eyes, as Yolei paused for breath. She glared at Takeru for a long moment.

"From now on," she continued, "I don't want there to be any secrets between us. If you have anything that's bothering you, tell us, and we'll face it together. We're a family, the only one any of us have left. We…." Her voice broke, and Yolei had to stop to clear her throat. "We care for you," she finished, in a quieter voice.

There was a long moment of silence, in which Yolei awkwardly sat back down. The other stand-masters nodded agreement as they all looked at Takeru. Takeru smiled. Not one of his hollow ones for the Kings, but a genuine, heart-warming smile.

"Thank you," he said. "I don't know what to say. It was my mistake in the first place. I'm sorry."

Kari reached across the table and put her hand over Takeru's. "We forgive you," she said softly. "Now, TK, tell us what happened."

"It worked," he said out loud. Then he tilted his head back. Kari caught him sending out a fast thought-shape. Caught off-guard, she only managed to catch the tail-end. Something something…in now…

Before she could puzzle out the thought-shape though, Takeru turned back. "Please don't be alarmed when I say this," he said. "But I succeeded."

Behind him, the door to the conference room opened with a slight creak. Every eye in the room turned to regard the opening door. Hesitantly, a man stepped through the door. The golden sunlight from the window illuminated only his boots. Carefully closing the door behind him, the man began to step forward.

Kari felt her breath catch in her throat. Her heart was suddenly pounding a mile a minute. She couldn't help it. Even before the light from the window had crept up enough to illuminate the man's face, she could already sense the amazingly strong spirit of a stand-master tingling in the air. Even Takeru's warm golden glow seemed to pale in comparison with this ice-cold, hard as nails aura that raised goosebumps on her bare arms. When the sunlight finally washed over the man's head, it revealed a fair, fine-boned face, framed by long strands of blond hair tied back in a neat ponytail. The almond-shaped blue eyes and arched eyebrows only served to confirm her suspicions.

The man looked like nothing more than an older and taller version of Takeru.

The three Taelidani immediately stood up in alarm when they too sensed the man's spirit. Almost immediately, all three of them had their stands awake and ready to be summoned, just beneath the surface. Kari could sense the sudden, charged hum in the air that indicated a stand-master's readiness. Davis's hand automatically went for the kodachis at his sleeves before he remembered himself and dropped his hands.

Kari remained seated. She cast an incredulous glance at Takeru. "Is he…is he…," she said, faltering.

Takeru stood up, as if it was the most natural thing in the world to have a former Khaydarin Praetor in the room. "My friends," he said, extending a hand to the man at the end of the table, "meet Yamato Ishida. My brother."

Four pairs of eyes locked onto Yamato's face. No-one spoke for a long moment. Kari was not sure she could have even if she wanted to. It felt as if someone had stuffed a ball of thorns down her throat. Judging from the expressions on everyone else's face, they probably felt the same way.

Standing still on the carpeted floor before the large conference table, Yamato looked small and felt anything but. A patch of sunlight washed over him like a lamp. The silence stretched into an eternity as he stood stock still before the stand-masters with his legs apart and his hands hanging loosely at his sides. Beneath his royal blue Ishidan cloak, his sword hung sheathed from his leather belt.

Finally Yamato cleared his throat. "So…," he said. "You're the stand-masters I've been hearing so much about. All over the land."

"And you're this brother we've heard so much about," Davis said bitingly. "Praetor Caylor, was that your name? What are you doing here?"

Yamato's eyes flashed slightly, then clouded over again. But the slight flash in his eyes hadn't been of anger or annoyance. Kari was surprised and she frowned as she struggled to place it. Sadness? Disillusionment?

"I was invited," he said in a surprisingly gentle voice. "I came to defect to the Alliance of the Stand-masters, and to subject myself to your judgement."

"So what that Praetor said was true," Yolei said behind Davis. "You are no longer with Khaydarin."

"That's right," Yamato said. "I left six years ago. When I finally realized what Emperor Tichon had in mind for Gaea, I couldn't justify in my mind what I was doing. I left."

"And now," Davis said in a deceptively calm voice, "you presume to walk in here as if nothing happened? As if we could simply forget everything you've done?!"

At that, Yamato stopped. He cleared his throat and looked away. When he looked back, Kari was again startled by another flash of his eyes. "For what it's worth," he said. "I do regret my actions. You can believe it or not. But no, I don't expect you to forget."

Davis snorted, but was silenced by a sharp glance from Yolei. Yamato took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. "After what I've done…I was convinced that it would be impossible for me to…set things right. Deal with me as you will. There's nothing you can do to me that I haven't deserved. Takeru tried to tell me otherwise, but then," he glanced at Takeru, "he's always been an optimist."

His voice faltered as he looked around at the stunned faces of the stand-masters. Kari's eyebrows moved up in sudden surprise as she opened her stand's eye a little further. For a moment, his cool exterior had cracked slightly. In that brief instant, Kari read a lot of things in the man's spirit. Reading Yamato was like trying to read a scroll by a madly flickering candle. There were moments of utter darkness when she could see nothing, and then…

"You're right," Davis interrupted abruptly, as he walked around the table. "Takeru is an idealist. And he's been getting worse every year." He swung upon Takeru. "Takeru, are you mad? If he deceived you, he might be contacting Tichon right now! He could be-"

"I brought him here blindfolded," Takeru said firmly.

"It doesn't matter," Yolei said tightly, glaring at Yamato. "He can still completely wreck the conference by himself. He doesn't need to call in reinforcements."

"Yamato has-"

"How do we know you're not a spy?" Davis accused as he swung around to face Yamato. "That you're not here to…betray us?"

Takeru stepped forward. "I vouch for him," he said.

Cody frowned. "Takeru, this man tried to-"

"I vouch for him," Takeru said firmly. "If he betrays us, I will bear the consequences."

"This is no matter that can be settled just because you vouch for him," Yolei said from where she sat at the table. "Takeru, the consequences might mean the end of Gaea itself!"

"But he has changed!" Takeru insisted. "He wants to atone! We've all made mistakes in the past, some worse than others. Why is he less deserving of that chance than any of us?"

"The stakes are too high this time," Davis said firmly.

"What if he is sincere?" Kari said suddenly. All eyes turned to her as she looked at Yamato. "You all knew from the beginning that this initiative is going to take trust, on all involved," she continued, swinging around to appeal to the others. "Always, we have been the first to offer it. We have walked into death-traps before, all for the sake of this conference. Why should we stop now?"

Takeru shot her a grateful glance. The others, however, seemed unconvinced. "And how can we know that he's sincere?" Yolei said.

"How can we know that this conference will work?" Kari countered. "We don't. But we have faith that it will. In the same way, why shouldn't we-"

"Kari," Davis said bitingly, springing upright and pointing accusingly at Yamato, "This man has leveled entire cities and toppled nations, all in the name of Khaydarin. He was responsible for the deaths of over half of my staven's warriors when we clashed outside Sai Auia." He glared at Yamato. "You remember?"

"How could I forget?" Yamato's voice was a whisper. "I still carry the scar."

Davis stared at the man for a moment longer, then stepped forward. Before anyone could stop him, he had summoned his stand. In the blink of an eye, a streak of red slashed through the air…and snapped to a standstill. Takeru stood up in alarm as Kari's hand automatically darted to her own wakizashi. Yamato turned his head slightly to look at the gleaming dragon claws quivering a hairsbreadth from his jugular. His hands, however, remained at his sides.

"You're not going to stop me are you," Davis said darkly.

"I said," Yamato repeated, "there's nothing you can do to me that I haven't deserved."

"If it were up to me," Davis said, still with his stand's heavy claws poised on the edge of a kill, "I would have killed you six years ago. When I saw what you had done to Takeru, believe me, there was nothing I wanted more than to slit your throat. What do you say to that, Praetor?"

Yamato closed his eyes and said nothing.

"Davis…," Takeru said warningly, "don't-"

"I won't kill him," Davis bit off. Slowly, he stepped back and willed his stand to disappear. A grudging hint of admiration shone in his eyes. "But it appears, Takeru, that your brother is sincere about one thing at least."

Yamato only stared back calmly, as implacable and resigned as a stone statue. He made no attempt to draw the sword at his side. No attempt to fend off a deathblow, if that was what Davis decided to hand out. "Perhaps you should have killed me," Yamato replied. "It would have been what I-"

"Of course it's what you deserve," Yolei said sadly. "But then, if you're going to start counting past sins, all of the kings and queens here should be put to death as well. No, Yamato, we are not in the business of dealing out death."

"Still-"

"Stop," Cody said tiredly. He glanced at Yamato, and was met with a steady ice-blue gaze. The stand-master withstood the debate without batting an eyelid as he awaited a verdict. When Cody continued, his voice was much softer. "Perhaps you are sincere. Perhaps you really do want to change."

He glanced at Takeru apologetically. "But this is too dangerous, I'm sorry. Forgiveness is one thing. If you are sincere, we offer that immediately. But if you are not sincere, then the consequences are too disastrous for us to risk. Trust…you will have to earn."

Takeru spread out his hands in frustration. "All right. Then what do you want to do?"

The stand-masters looked at each other for a few moments as they mulled over Takeru's question. Takeru sighed, ran his hand through his hair and sat back in resignation. Kari squeezed his hand in a comforting gesture, but Davis and Cody directed hard, flat stares at Yamato.

"If the situation was reversed," Yamato said as he turned his icy eyes on Takeru, "I would have killed any of you immediately. Why that hasn't occurred yet is beyond me. If the question is one of trust, however, there is a simple solution. You could restrain me."

Takeru sat up, looking alarmed, but Davis immediately shook his head. "We don't have the manpower to guard you, stand-master," he said with a grim chuckle. "And I doubt any of Ardinberg's cells are strong enough to hold you against your will."

"Then send me away from Ardinberg," Yamato said as he stared levelly at Davis. "It doesn't matter where, as long as it's far, far away. At least until after the conference. Then you can decide what to do with me."

Takeru looked pained, but said nothing. Davis stared at Yamato for a long while, then narrowed his eyes, but he too said nothing. It was Cody that finally nodded reluctantly. "We can do that," he said slowly.

"But where can he go?" Kari chipped in.

"He can go with my Taelidani on their scouting mission," Davis said hollowly. "They can keep an eye on him, and can lead him away blindfolded as well, so he doesn't ever find out the way here."

Everyone looked at Takeru, who sighed and leaned forward again. Staring at the table, he rubbed his fingers together in thought, then looked up. "Then it's decided," he said. "Yamato will go to Ichijouji." He stood up to go.

Davis reached out a hand to him. "Takeru, I…"

"You should be with your kings and queens," Takeru said brusquely. His voice was no longer warm. "Pray, don't let me disturb you."

**********

"Your time is up, Praetor." Tichon's menacing voice seemed to echo off the bare stone walls of the familiar, enclosed room. "And you have not worn your mirrireid at all times like I told you to. When I reached out for you yesterday, you were not there. Why?"

Locke schooled his face into a polite expression of neutrality. He didn't dare let any of his fear show. "The chain broke yesterday," he said. "I had to hand it to my weapons smith to repair. I have worn it at all other times. I am sorry if you were not able to reach me."

He didn't even dare cross his fingers behind his back. Who knew what the Emperor could see in this thought-plane? With baited breath he watched Tichon glare at him suspiciously. Did he have spies that could deny his story? But no. Even when he had worn the mirrireid as instructed, he had worn it under his shirt. No-one would have been able to notice when he'd simply taken it off.

"Praetor," Tichon hissed as he leaned on the table. "My orders are not to be taken as mere suggestions. When I ask that it be worn at all times, you will obey me. If I reach out for you again, and you are not there…"

Locke carefully swallowed the hard ball of fear in his throat. Bowing low to the ground, he swept his hand out graciously. "Of course, my Lord. I live to obey your every word."

Tichon grunted as he sat back and steepled his fingers. "Now, report. You have run out of time. Have you found Praetor Caylor?"

Locke squared his shoulders, and unconsciously donned his commander's mask. Obediently, his face froze into the still, expressionless expression he found himself using more and more often. "Yes, my Lord," he said precisely. "I promised that I would find him, and I did."

"And?"

"He is dead, my Lord," he lied. "I saw him die with my own eyes."

Tichon rose from his seat. His burning red eyes transfixed Locke like a snake's gaze might transfix its prey. "How?"

How much does he know? Locke thought furiously. How well-positioned are his spies?

"My gamble paid off, my Lord," he said without a hitch, betraying none of his inner thoughts. "My scouts tracked down Takeru Ishida. When we found him, he was traveling en route to Palas. Or what remained of Palas."

That was the truth. He could get away with that. Now what?

"When he reached Palas," he continued calmly, "he entered the city and climbed to the top tier, the Royalty's tier, and waited in Masaharu's square. At the time, I was with a scouting party and the bulk of my army was stationed in the next valley. I decided to wait rather than call up forces to corner the stand-master immediately. I knew that the stand-masters would be able to sense the massed spirit of an army if they were close enough."

Still the truth…

"Presently, Yamato came. We were right, my Lord. He had been deciding to do something drastic before the conference. Takeru seemed to be expecting him. The two stand-masters almost immediately started to duel. None of my men dared to near them as they fought. We saw parts of the city collapse in the conflict."

"Collapse" was an understatement. "Explode" might have been a better word, but it was still close enough to the truth. Quickly, Locke ran over in his mind who had been in his scouting party that night. Yvan he was fairly certain was not a spy. And the soldiers that had accompanied him had all been handpicked by Locke personally. All of them had served long enough to have been there when Yamato still led the corps. If anybody could be trusted, it was them.

Silently, Locke consigned his life into the hands of his soldiers. If any of his scouting party had been spies, he would be killed immediately after finishing the next few sentences. But there was nothing for it. For all his wit, his agile mind could not think of another way.

"When Yamato appeared and the fight began," Locke continued. "I sent men to alert my main army at once. But the fight was over as quickly as it began. I saw Takeru strike down Yamato less than a minute after the men were gone. When the Praetor fell, he was swallowed by the Mukaibo falls. When my army finally arrived, Takeru had disappeared. The body of Yamato was never recovered."

The last part, at least, was true. By the time his army had arrived, both stand-masters had been gone. Of course, Locke had conveniently neglected to inform them until after he was certain they had been gone. But that didn't make his last statement false. For the rest of his army, they would have remembered scouring Palas and the riverbanks of the Mukaibo for a whole day and finding nothing.

Tichon stared at Locke unflinchingly for a long moment. Despite the fear that was now threatening to crack even his commander's mask, Locke couldn't help but notice that Tichon had thinned again. Parts of his hair were beginning to come off. The lines of his face had grown deeper still until his eyes seemed to have been cast completely into dark shadow. They resembled nothing more than hot, glowing coals glaring balefully out of the deep, dark night.

"So Yamato is dead," Tichon said finally. "Takeru did our work for us. There is hope then, if a servant of God can be corrupted to do our bidding. Perhaps our work has not been wholly undone after all."

Locke let the breath he had been holding out through his nose. Very very slowly. "Yes, my Lord," he heard himself say from somewhere far off. "Even the proud Ishidan line is not innocent of the madness that seemed to possess the other stand-masters at the end of the Age."

"But rather convenient, isn't it?" Tichon continued. Locke's heart stopped. "Only a scouting party for witnesses. No body. Nobody even saw Takeru except you. You wouldn't be lying to me, would you Locke?"

Locke put on an expression of puzzled innocence. "I do not understand."

"Do not pretend with me, Locke." Tichon's voice had risen to a dangerous snarl. Standing up, he suddenly seemed to tower over Locke, to fill the whole room with his presence. The air around him dimmed and twisted into a visible black aura of evil that stifled and suffocated the light from the fire like a cloud of smoke might stifle a candle. "I know you are more intelligent than that. You know exactly what I am talking about."

Locke allowed his body and face to stiffen into an offended expression. Since he was beginning to stiffen with terror anyway, it was not hard. "If you are questioning my loyalties, my Lord, have I not proven my devotion to you in the past? Of all your Praetors, I am the only one who has not failed you once. Through countless battles and decisions, I have supported you all the way. If it were not so, you would have torn this Praetor's insignia from my chest years ago."

Emperor and Praetor stared at one another across the table for a long, dangerous moment. Then Tichon nodded. The red glow in his eyes subsided as he sat down again. The black aura disappeared.

"You are right," Tichon said. "You have been faithful, Locke."

This time, Locke didn't even dare release his breath again. Tichon looked up at Locke.

"But be warned, Praetor," Tichon said in a quiet whisper. "The moment, the instant, you betray me, I will know. And when I know, you will die."

Locke didn't allow a muscle to twitch. He merely inclined his head and bowed again. "I will not betray you," he said smoothly.

Tichon smiled. For a moment, Locke caught sight of a row of long, sharp teeth that gleamed silver white in the darkness. "Good."

The Emperor sighed and looked at the table. A goblet of wine, clearly made of the finest silver in the land, appeared in front of him. Leaning back, he appeared to relax visibly as he sipped the goblet. Locke forced his fists to relax, and he placed them flat on the table, hoping that the Emperor wouldn't notice the sheen of sweat on them.

"Good work, Praetor," the Emperor said. "You managed to track down Praetor Caylor after all. Now that your assignment is over, however, I have a new job for you."

"Of course. I live to serve."

"Gather your entire corps," Tichon said, "and go join the other two Praetors on the eastern seaboard. Go along the south, where we have already secured the outer provinces of Ichijouji. Your main function, however, will not be to attack, but to reinforce my defenses at the site of the sangrias."

"The sangrias?" Locke frowned. "I thought it was not scheduled to be completed for another two months."

"The schedule has changed," Tichon said. "It will be completed in about three weeks."

Locke felt a current of shock pass through him as the words sunk in. "That soon?" he whispered. He hoped the expression on his face would pass for excitement, and not dread.

"Yes," Tichon said, smiling. "That is why the site must be protected."

Then he leaned forward.

The distance between them suddenly shrunk to nothing. The red eyes filled Locke's vision until he could not see anything else. A blinding black light raged all around him, as if a dark fire had sprang to life at his feet. It burned at his eyes and clawed at his body but he could not look away. A frightening paralysis had frozen his entire body until he could do nothing but sit and endure it.

"Only a little further, my faithful servant," Tichon whispered. There was a manic edge to his voice, a hint of insanity that seemed to hide within that deep, cultured voice. "Only twenty-three days…

"Then the glory of Khaydarin will spread out to embrace all of Gaea. Once the sangrias is complete, nothing will stop us. Not the stand-masters. Not their pitiful armies or stands. They will all be swept away like chaff. Their strongholds will crumble like sand castles before the rising tide. Their proud kingdoms will burn into ashes. A year today, I tell you, we will both stand on the charred corpses of our enemies and survey the fires of our victory. We are almost there!"

Locke forced an expression of frenzied excitement in his eyes. He felt his stiff lips turn upwards in a savage smile as he clenched a fist. "I look forward to that day," he declared. "The glory be to Khaydarin."

The words tasted like poison on his lips.

Tichon laughed. The fires raged higher. Locke felt his mask finally crack as he took a step backwards, shielding his face from the flames. From the painful black light. From the blistering heat. A great roaring sound pounded at his ears and shook his bones to the core. Surely he was being burned alive. Surely Tichon already knew, and this was his punishment. Primal terror crawled from his belly to possess his limbs. His mouth opened in a soundless scream…

Locke snapped upright in his tent, thrashing to free himself from the suffocating covers. The sheets tore with a loud shriek as they gave way to his panicked struggles. Still writhing as if to put out the invisible flames, Locke rolled off his pallet and onto the hard stone ground.

The unexpected pain brought him to his senses. Slowly, the red veil lifted and Locke opened his eyes to peer about him blearily. He was breathing heavily. His clothes and brow were soaked in cold sweat. His heart was beating so fast it felt as if it would jump straight from his chest. Shivering as a draft blew past him, Locke held up his hands and tried to brush the sweat-soaked hair from his eyes. When he discovered that he couldn't, he peered at his hands. They were trembling so hard, he couldn't control his fingers. Clenching them into fists, Locke gritted his teeth and forced himself to calm down. To calm down…

Then he remembered the mirrireid. Scrabbling at his chest, he drew the talisman out and almost threw it away before he remembered the Emperor's words. He stared, panting at the silver symbol, then slowly, reluctantly, put it back. The voices would come in time. He would simply have to resist them for as long as he could.

The game's stakes had risen again. The danger, which seemed to have been so far off, was now clear and present. The Emperor was really suspicious now and not even bothering to hide it. Scrubbing the sweat from his eyes, Locke took a couple deep breaths to calm down. He couldn't do this. It was too dangerous. He wasn't good enough. Much easier to succumb to the voices. Much easier to carry out his duty. Much easier to-

No! In a blind panic, Locke shook his head vigorously. The voices were becoming more subtle now. They were disguising themselves as his thoughts, as his feelings. Desperately, he recalled what Yamato had taught him, and hung onto them like they were his lifeline. He fought for Gaea. For the good of Gaea. Not for Khaydarin. Not for the Emperor. For Gaea!!

Repeating the words under his breath like a mantra, Locke tried to clear his mind. The sangrias was going to be completed in twenty-three days. Time had almost run out. He had to warn Yamato and the stand-masters, or it was going to be too late. But even now, it was as if he could feel the Emperor's watchful eye watching his every movement. The spy situation had to be resolved. How? How could he flush out the spy, or spies? He was fairly certain he could trust those that had served under Yamato. But six years had been a long time. There had been casualties, and replacements. Reinforcements and transfers. And although he had tried to keep his corps as intact as possible, he could no longer trust everyone in the corps. The spies could be anywhere…

Then he frowned as the numbing fear began to lift. What was that that the Emperor had said? That he would know the instant he betrayed him? Well, obviously, it had been an empty threat. Locke had already betrayed him, and he apparently didn't know yet. The mirrireid didn't give him away automatically. But the Emperor had known something. Perhaps he hadn't meant to let it slip but…

Then the solution hit him. It was so plain that he almost laughed out loud. Of course! he berated himself. Why didn't I see it before? Suddenly, he knew exactly how to find the spies.

They were the ones with mirrireid.

**********

In the half-darkness of the stable, Yamato sighed. With a final tug on the leather straps, he secured his saddle-bag to his horse's flank. As he swung his traveler's cloak around his shoulders again, he felt an intense weariness descend upon his shoulders. So that was that. He was off on the road again, as he had been for six years. He had hoped for one, insane moment that they would accept him without question. But he should have known. If it seems too good to be true, he thought bitterly, it usually is.

Takeru was there, leaning against the door to the stable, his face stony. He shifted slightly as he saw that Yamato was ready to leave. "I'm sorry about this," Takeru said.

"Don't be," Yamato replied. "It's the only sensible thing to do. After all, even stand-masters can't read each other's minds."

"I will convince them," Takeru said simply. "I still believe in you."

Yamato smiled wanly. "Thank you," he said. "But you've done enough as it is. If nothing else, you've already saved me from myself."

Then both brothers turned as Davis emerged from the dark door behind Takeru. "My scouts are ready to go," he announced. "Are you ready?"

"Yes," Yamato said.

Davis walked over. Although Yamato was almost a head taller than Davis, the shorter stand-master's glowering face seemed to dominate the room. "The Staven leader knows who you are," Davis said, "but the others do not. They think you're an Ishidan soldier Takeru sent to accompany them." His voice darkened. "Rest assured, if the rest of my men ever found out who you are, even your stand would not save you. For now, they are under orders not to harm you. But if you so much as draw a blade against them…"

Yamato's eyes remained as calm as ever. "I understand," he said solemnly.

Davis glanced over at Takeru, who said nothing. Then, stiffly, he nodded at Yamato. "Just accompany them for the mission," he said, slightly less belligerently. "Follow the staven-leader's orders. I…hope you have a safe journey."

Yamato said nothing. Instead, he stepped into his horse's stirrup and mounted quickly. "Goodbye," he said brusquely. Then he was gone.

The two remaining stand-masters stood in silence in the dim light for a moment, watching as Yamato's black horse rode down the green slope. This far north, the sun was already beginning to set. From between the stable doors, they could see his figure, silhouetted against the red light, joining with the twenty or so Taelidani scouts already waiting on the plain. Once he joined them, the entire group turned and disappeared into the forest at full gallop. When the last rider was gone from sight, Takeru stirred and turned to go.

Davis's hand clamped firmly onto Takeru's shoulder. "Wait."

Takeru stopped.

Davis cleared his throat. "I'm sorry," he said. "About your brother, I mean."

"Your brother too," Takeru said in a quiet voice. "If, that is, you still think we're a family."

"We are."

"Then what was that?" Takeru gestured angrily at the open door. "Why wouldn't you give him a chance? Don't you see that he needs one now more than ever?"

"He will have his chance."

"Chance?" Takeru snapped. "Are you just saying that? I expected you, Davis, to understand this better than anyone. The first time we met, you almost killed Kari!"

Davis's face hardened into granite and his lips compressed into a thin, bloodless line. Takeru looked away, his face flushed with anger. For a moment, he strode around the stable, swinging his arms, and taking deep breaths. Davis folded his arms and watched as Takeru visibly struggled to contain his disappointment.

"I…I'm sorry," Takeru finally said. "I shouldn't have said that."

"No, you shouldn't," Davis said tightly. "I thought we had put that to rest years ago."

"You're right," Takeru said as he held up a hand. "It won't happen again."

Davis looked back out the stable door. "Takeru, don't you see?" he said pleadingly. "If it wasn't for you, I would have killed Yamato six years ago. And if it wasn't for you, I would have killed him just now. But I didn't. Because I trust you when you say that people can change that dramatically. Because if they can't, then all our efforts have been in vain."

"So you don't kill him, but send him away," Takeru said, a trace of bitterness creeping back into his voice.

"I am your friend, Takeru," Davis said gently. "That doesn't mean I have to agree with everything you say. Even you are wrong sometimes. And when you are, I wouldn't be your friend if I didn't say anything about it. In this case, I feel that you are wrong to trust him so quickly. I have no regrets."

"Then what would it take for him to convince you?" Takeru said.

"Less than you might think," Davis admitted.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Davis walked over and laid a hand on Takeru's shoulder, spinning him around until Takeru was forced to look up. "Believe me," he said firmly. "There is nothing that would make me happier than to discover that Yamato has truly turned to our side. If he has done that, I will be the first to apologize and welcome him. Forgiveness, Takeru, is immediate. But trust…that takes time."

"We have little time," Takeru murmured.

"If we rush, we lose everything," Davis said. "But yes, Takeru, I know that we have little time. I promise you that, if nothing else, I will accept him if he proves himself."

The two paused as Ardinberg's bell tolled softly. Once…twice…six times. As the soft tones faded away, Takeru could hear a few restless scuffles from the walls at the very edge of his listening range as the guard shifts changed. A couple horses neighed around them at the sudden nose, then silence descended again.

"It's six o'clock," Takeru said.

"I know."

Silence.

"The banquet will start soon," Takeru said as he looked down at his clothes. Fine clothes, but plain. "We should get ready."

A ghost of a smile touched Davis's face. "Yes, we should."

Takeru reached up and brushed Davis's hand off. "I will remember what you said," he said. He turned to go. This time, Davis didn't stop him.

The banquet was a success, which meant that nobody insulted or killed anyone else. For three hours, Takeru sat holding his breath from where he sat at the head table, half-expecting a disaster to happen at any  moment, but thankfully, none came. There were a few insincere speeches, and Takeru himself got up a couple times to address the gathered delegates, but for the most part, the evening flew past like a dream. He vaguely remembered the delegates introducing themselves, of the stand-masters circulating the floor like shadows, staying close to their respective nation's delegates. The food was good, plain fare, but nobody seemed to notice.

By the end of it, Takeru was glad to see the last delegate leave the table for their chambers. The other stand-masters, having completed their duties, seemed to breathe sighs of relief from where they stood around the chamber. As Takeru looked around, a wave of exhaustion seemed to break over him and for the first time that evening he allowed his shoulders to slump. Although the other stand-masters were still in the room, he suddenly didn't feel like talking to them. In fact, he didn't feel like talking to anyone. Murmuring that he was going to get some rest to Marc, he left the chamber before the others could reach him.

As he approached the long stairwell that would lead him back to his room however, Takeru hesitated. Although the corridors were still well-lit, they were already beginning to quiet down as the delegates returned one by one to their chambers in preparation for the conference tomorrow. Why did I stop again? Oh yes.

Of their own accord, Takeru's feet steered him away from his own chamber. No, there was no way he could sleep now. Not when his mind was still in turmoil. The conference was tomorrow and his stomach was literally tying itself up in knots in his gut. He needed somewhere to be alone and…think. Sort things out a little. Try to untie his stomach at the very least.

Soon, Takeru found himself climbing another stairwell, to the third level of the fortress. Slowly, he pushed open a heavy wooden door and emerged onto a terrace along the side of the keep.

The cool night air whistled through Takeru's hair and he wrapped his cloak tightly about himself before continuing. This far north and this high up, summer days were swelteringly hot and summer nights were unusually cold. It was not freezing, but chilly enough to cut through a man's robes and make him wish he was indoors. Fastening the additional strap on his cloak to make it stay in place, Takeru looked up and out. Perhaps a hundred meters out, Ardinberg's high defensive wall cast a deep, dark shadow on the broad courtyard. Behind the wall, Takeru could still see the shadowy shapes of guards and soldiers changing watches, and the occasional glow of lanterns as delegates went from one building to the next in preparation for the night. His stand and his ears told him everything he needed to know. So he directed his attention beyond the wall and out into the night.

In the mountains, where the air was clean and crisp, and the surrounding land devoid of the lights of large cities like Maitzin, the glowing stars were spread out in all their glory across the night sky like gemstones on a dark, satin cloth. The starlight and the full moon was so bright that it illuminated everything as clearly as day. As the ever-present mountain breeze ran its icy fingers through his hair, Takeru took a deep breath of the quiet calm. Yamato was out there, somewhere. The Taelidani scouts he was with were probably still riding, and wouldn't stop until morning. When Taelidani didn't want to be seen, they almost never traveled by daylight. For a brief moment, Takeru wanted to be with his brother. To explain to him why they had sent him away. To reassure him that he still loved him. But it was impossible. They had not arranged a time to meet on the thought-plane. And Yamato already knew anyway.

Takeru looked up as he padded along. Soon, he could discern the dim shape of another tower looming before him. Wordlessly, he passed through the dark doorway and mounted the narrow spiral steps towards the top. Several minutes later, when he reached the end of the wooden steps, Takeru pushed open another wooden door and emerged onto a broad, flat, battlemented tower. He had been far too busy to visit the place in the last few weeks. But now, with his proposition prepared and all his duties completed, it was no longer time that he needed. It was peace.

This far up, the mountain breeze blew even more briskly. Takeru had to shield his eyes for a moment as the unexpected slap of air struck him across the face. With a sigh, he shed his cloak and hung it on a metal nail protruding from the wooden door behind him. Then, he quickly unbuttoned and shed his shirt as well, leaving only his sleeveless linen tunic. He welcomed the cleansing chill that buffeted his body and raised goosebumps on his flesh. Grasping the sword strapped to his side, he unfastened the sheath from his belt, withdrew the metal blade, and discarded the sheath to the ground. Taking a deep breath, he stepped forward.

The movements to the kata came naturally, so long had he practiced them. Smoothly, fluidly, his limbs moved through the motions, sending his sword-point flicking swiftly and surely through the air. Before long, the familiar sense of faint fatigue, of tingling burning in his limbs appeared in his limbs. A faint dew of sweat appeared on his forehead and streamed into his eyes. Takeru grunted slightly as he turned and slowed the tempo slightly, balancing his sword on his finger-tips as an artist might balance a brush. His feet moved of their own accord, and he was lunging again. Leaping, somersaulting, sliding. Yes, this was what he had come for. To allow the exertions of the body to blank out the tiredness of the mind. It was only then that thoughts seemed to untangle themselves and make themselves known clearly.

"You presume to walk in here as if nothing happened" Davis's voice seemed to ring in his ears. "As if we could simply forget everything you've done?"

Takeru's lips thinned as he worked. Swinging his sword a little too savagely, he almost broke the rhythm of the kata. Taking a deep breath through his nose, he willed his heartbeat to slow again. No, he had to focus. Automatically, he tried to push the thought away.

Then he paused. Why? Wasn't this what he wanted? Time to think?

"This man has leveled entire cities and toppled nations, all in the name of Khaydarin. He was responsible for the deaths of over half of my staven's warriors when we clashed outside Sai Auia. And you want me to trust him?"

A faint burning began in his chest that had nothing to do with his exertions. Takeru's eyes narrowed as he launched himself into a roll. He had hoped they would accept him. He had expected that they would accept him. And although he had appreciated Davis's attempt to reconcile, the fact was that Davis's words had wounded him. Why couldn't they see? It shouldn't have to be like this. Yamato should never have had to be captured. He should not have spent the first twenty years of his life being an unknowing slave to the Emperor. Now that he had finally believed, there were his friends, his very brothers and sisters, rejecting him. Hadn't he suffered enough?

"Send me away from Ardinberg," Yamato had said. And although that was all he had said, Takeru could almost hear the words he had not uttered.

"Perhaps I'm not worthy after all."

Takeru stumbled as he missed a step, and he realized with a shock that his sword was chopping now instead of flowing. But he didn't care. His breath hissing through his mouth, he whirled around and slashed violently at the air, not knowing what he was fighting, or even why.

The most haunting thing though, was that he could not find it within himself to blame his friends. It was as if some colder and calmer version of himself was silently agreeing with them, questioning his decisions. It only made sense. You couldn't simply take a man's word at face value. The world wasn't like that anymore. Things had changed; things were still changing. Or maybe it had always been like that…

But if that was right, if even the stand-masters couldn't find it within themselves to accept one of their own, then what was the point?

"You're right," Davis had said. "Takeru is an idealist. And he's been getting worse every year."

A cold hand of near-panic clenched his heart and guts in a vice-like grip. For a moment, Takeru could scarcely breath. What if he was wrong? What if he had been deluding himself all these years? If forgiveness was not possible, if a human could not change that much, then what was he fighting for? What was this conference for? If even the stand-masters couldn't find it within themselves to forgive, then how could they expect anyone else to? Yamato would be right. The Seihad would repeat itself. Age after age, generation after generation, until finally the war becomes so devastating that Gaea would rip itself apart beyond all hope of reconciliation or healing.

No!

A wordless yell ripped loose from Takeru's throat as he lunged forward one more time. With a sharp boom, the burning golden blade smashed into the solid stone battlements, cleaving the roughly-hewn rock into two. A rippling shockwave of gold expanded outwards, sending a sheet of dust and small pebbles flying from the edge of the tower. A huge chunk of masonry fell off from the wall, toppling from the tower to fall lazily and gracefully towards the bottom.

Dropping onto his knees, Takeru panted for breath. He had mangled the kata so badly, there didn't seem to be any point in continuing what was left of it. In a moment, the flushed heat from his exertions was whipped away. The indifferent wind seemed to slice right through his sweat-soaked tunic and he started to shiver. Clenching his numb fingers into fists, Takeru stared hard at the rough, stone ground as he fought down the nauseating feeling of panic. Since when had it gotten so cold?

He had played the diplomatic game for years now. Tomorrow, all his efforts would either fail and condemn all of Gaea to death, or succeed and save them all. It was at times like these that the weight of the whole world seemed to press down on him heavier than ever, until he felt like he wanted to curl up and wish that it would all just…go away. All those years of work couldn't have been wasted. He couldn't have been wrong.

Could he?

Suddenly, Takeru was aware of a soft footstep beside him. Before he could protest, someone was draping a soft white cloak over his shoulders, still warm from its former owner's body.

Startled, he looked up.

Kari was kneeling beside him. Giving him a faint smile, her gentle fingers tugged her cloak tighter around Takeru's shivering body. Shaking his head in protest, he tried to push it back towards her, but her fingers were surprisingly firm. "I'm fine," she said. "I've still got my shirt on. You on the other hand…what were you thinking?"

Takeru shook his head, unable to answer for a few moments as he caught his breath. Kari seemed to understand. Reaching into her pocket, she withdrew a clean white kerchief which she handed to Takeru. Gratefully he accepted it and tried to use it to wipe his face and neck before he realized that he was perfectly dry. The wind had whipped away his sweat even as it formed. No wonder he was so cold. As he did, Kari pushed him to a sitting position behind one of the low battlements that guarded the tower-top, where the wind did not blow quite as viciously. Then, scooting over to sit beside him, she drew her legs to her chest and watched as Takeru wearily leaned his head back against the rough stone.

"Or," she said slowly, "I should say, what were you trying not to think about?"

Takeru shook his head. "You should be resting," he rasped. It was all he could manage through the burning in his throat and chest.

"Same goes for you," Kari retorted. "In fact, you should be anywhere but on top of this freezing tower catching a cold."

"Couldn't sleep," Takeru muttered. It was a good enough explanation, and it was true.

In the semi-darkness, Takeru thought he could see one corner of Kari's lip twitched upwards slightly. "To be honest," she admitted, "neither can I."

There was silence between the two of them for a long moment. The wind died down slightly and with it Takeru felt some of the numbness in his fingers recede. Hunkering up against the wall, he clutched the soft fabric of Kari's cloak tightly to himself and took comfort from its warmth. He made no effort to go for his own cloak or shirt. Ichibou lay forgotten at his feet, the naked blade gleaming in the moonlight. At least some things never changed. Kari had always been there with a warm cloak when he needed it most. How had she found him anyway?

"I had a feeling I'd find you here," Kari murmured, as if she had read his thoughts. "You liked high, clear places. It brought you closer to the sky, the stars."

Takeru cleared his throat and sighed. "What do you mean?"

"Don't you remember? You used to camp out on roofs to look at the stars back in Kurtal. It used to be your favourite spot at night. And when Richard got you that crude spyglass to look at the stars with, you were fascinated."

Spyglass? That stupid thing? How long had it been?

"As I recall," Takeru said dryly, "a certain girl also liked it so much she borrowed it for a night and broke it."

"Hey, I gave you a another one didn't I?" Kari said, still grinning. "A better one, in fact."

"Yeah," Takeru said slowly. "I remember." He sighed. "I never knew that you knew. That I camped out on roofs, that is."

Takeru could feel Kari shaking beside him, as if she was suppressing a silent giggle. "I didn't. Until one day you didn't show up in the morning, and Richard found you fast asleep on the roof. Afterwards, you were down for days with a cold. He could scarcely stop laughing when he told me all about it."

Takeru groaned. "I was seven, Kari. Give me a break."

"You're twenty-one," she quipped. "And here you are."

"I'm not asleep!"

"You sure were catching a cold."

Takeru snorted but said nothing. Kari had lowered her head onto her arms, so Takeru couldn't be sure, but he had the distinct impression that she was struggling to smother a grin. Folding her hands around her knees, she hugged them tightly to her chest.

"By the way," Takeru murmured, "thank you."

Beside him, Kari stirred. "For what?"

"For backing up Yamato earlier today."

Although he could not see it, Takeru could hear Kari's light smile. "I didn't need any proof, TK," she said. "I could see everything in his face and in his spirit. I don't think he has ever been more serious or sincere in his life." She paused, and Takeru had the distinct impression that a hint of mischief had crept into her smile. "If nothing else, I think he's quite the gentleman."

"Huh?"

"I talked to him for a while before he left," Kari explained. "Things were…understandably strained. But he has the most impeccable manners I've ever seen. Even better than yours."

Takeru snorted. "He's had a royal upbringing!" he protested feebly. "So if you'll excuse me if my humble peasant's manners can't compare."

"You realize you're insulting my childhood as well."

Takeru groaned and closed his eyes. "Kari, did you just come up here to insult me? That's twice in the last minute."

"No, silly," Kari said, her voice turning unexpectedly tender as she reached out to ruffle his hair. "I came to see if you were all right. You really did have me and the others worried. It's not like you to avoid us, TK."

A ghost of a smile flitted across Takeru's face and for a moment he felt warmer. It was just like Kari to do that. But the moment passed all too quickly. The simple effort of smiling seemed to have exhausted him, and the weariness seeped even deeper into his bones. Privately, he wondered if he was ill. He said nothing.

Kari seemed to understand. Leaning over slightly, she rested her cheek on Takeru's right shoulder and waited until he was ready to speak, one hand absentmindedly fiddling through his hair. The clock struck ten. Somewhere out in the forest, a wolf howled, and was answered by a pack. The eerie echoes faded away.

"Then…you believe in him?" Takeru finally whispered.

Kari sighed into his shoulder. Takeru could be so dense at times. "Yes."

Takeru breathed a sigh of relief. "At least one of you does," he murmured. "I suppose I should take that as a blessing."

"This is extraordinarily hard to swallow," Kari said gently. "They will come to accept him. But things like this take time. Don't be discouraged."

"I'm not," Takeru said.

"You're a bad liar, TK."

Takeru fixed his eyes on a point in the paved stone floor and stayed silent. What was the point? Kari knew everything. He could hide nothing from her. The faintest tremor in his voice, the slightest flicker in his eyes, she could read them all. It was at once refreshing and frightening to have someone who seemed to know him more thoroughly than he knew himself.

He started slightly when Kari's slim fingers closed over his own. Looking up in bewilderment, he watched as Kari gently placed her other hand over his palm, rubbing his freezing fingers gently to keep them warm.

"In a perfect world, TK, we wouldn't have to turn away people like Yamato," Kari said. "In a perfect world, the hurting will always find healing." She paused as she brought his hand up to her mouth and breathed gently on it to warm it up even further. "But this is not a perfect world. We are not perfect people. And that's why we're fighting. To better ourselves. To better the world. If we were already there, then what would be the point?"

"But what if I was wrong?"

"Wrong? About what?"

Takeru could not control the slight quaver in his voice as he confessed his deepest fear. "What if all we're all deluding ourselves with a massive, empty dream? If even the stand-masters couldn't do it, then how can we ask anyone else to?"

"Dreams can't come real," Kari pointed out. "And ours is already beginning to."

Takeru shook his head. "Don't lie to me, Kari," he said tiredly. "Don't say it because I want to hear it. If you're going to-"

"Takeru, if I thought you were deluding yourself, I certainly wouldn't have followed you for six years," Kari said. "If you're deluded, then we're all deluded as well." She snorted lightly. "None of us followed you just for your sake, Takeru. We followed you because we also believed in what you believed in. You're not wrong."

Takeru didn't say anything. Beside him, he could hear Kari make an exasperated noise through her nose.

"TK, look at me," Kari ordered.

Obediently, Takeru looked up to meet Kari's concerned eyes.

"Have you forgotten the vision already?" Kari said.

Takeru's brow lifted. The vision. It had been…

"Six years ago now, TK," Kari continued. "Remember? I was standing beside you. I saw everything you saw. The day we finished our pilgrimage and were commissioned by the Creator himself to go out and change the world."

"King Corin," Takeru said suddenly, his eyes suddenly sparkling. "My father and mother. Captain Adun of the Mesaidan guard."

"That's right," Kari said. "Remember them? Do you remember what Adun said?"

Takeru paused, then whispered, "Yes."

"Then if you doubt everything else we've done so far, if you doubt the evidence of the new alliances being forged every month, don't you dare doubt what you saw that day in the kondou."

Takeru felt tears come to his eyes as he felt some of the weariness leave his shoulders. Suddenly ashamed of himself, he tried to look down. Anywhere but those clear crimson eyes that seemed to see too much. But Kari's fingers on his chin remained firm.

"You are the Tenken, Takeru Ishida," she said softly. "There is no doubt about that in my mind, in the other's minds, or even in Tichon's mind. You are the one that will bring eternal peace to our land. You are the one who will save us all. But if you doubt yourself, and if you forget the vision, then there is no hope left…for any of us."

She let go, but Takeru didn't look down. Yes, he was a fool. Here he was, smashing bricks, and there was Kari reminding him that he had forgotten the single most vital thing in his quest. As he sat there, it was as if the ice on his shoulders was melting, the unbearably heavy load on his back cracking apart. It was still heavy. The gloom was still there. But now, it was as if someone else had crawled under the mountain with him. Smiling faintly, he reached out and embraced Kari warmly.

"Thank you," he said simply. "I needed that."

As if sensing that Takeru was going to be all right, Kari pulled back slightly, and a mischievous light sprang back into her eyes. "Just promise me," she said, "come see me before you start smashing up walls, okay?"

"I promise," Takeru said gravely. "Whatever would I do without you?"

"Well," Kari said, leaning back, "you'd catch your death of cold within a week, for one thing. I don't know how you survived all those years without me beside you."

"That is true," Takeru said softly. "In more ways than you might think."

Kari turned slightly, the question evident on her features. When Takeru saw her, he grinned softly. "I was…lonely," he finally said. His voice had lost all of its weariness. Instead, it was soft and thick, quiet with recollection. "It was difficult without the rest of you. Especially you, Kari. I…I guess we had been so long together - hell, we grew up together - that I had gotten used to the idea that you'd always be by my side when I needed you. For the longest time, I kept wanting to reach out for you, ask you questions, try to talk to you, before I realized that you weren't there. I missed you…a lot."

Kari squeezed his fingers as her heart fluttered. "Really?" she said innocently. "Tell me again, just how much did you miss me?"

Despite the darkness, Kari could see Takeru blush a bright red. Turning, he gave her a reproachful look. "Honestly Kari, it's great to see you and all, but do you have to-"

Kari laughed and put a finger to his lips, shaking her head. "Joke, Takeru," she whispered. When Takeru closed his mouth, she took away her finger. "You saw me every one or two weeks on the thought-plane," she pointed out.

Takeru pulled a face. "It's not the same."

"No," Kari agreed. "It's not. I know how you feel."

"At least you had Cody with you," Takeru pointed out. "I bet he was great company."

Kari punched him in the shoulder. "You know it's not the same. Honestly, men can be so thick-headed at – " She stopped as a new thought hit her, and it was suddenly her turn to blush crimson. "Hey! What were you implying? If you even suggest that I…uh…with Cody…"

Takeru couldn't help it. The laugh seemed to come from some half-forgotten recess from deep within him, and before he knew it, he was snickering.

"Really, Takeru," she muttered. "That's like saying…you…and…uh…Yolei or something." She glared at him. "Or Lady Isendre! It's like saying you fancy Lady Isendre!"

The snickers turned into giggles, and then into chuckles. Before long, Takeru was forced to clamp his hand across his mouth to stop the laughter from bursting forth and waking up half the castle. He couldn't help it. Why am I laughing? he thought. It's not even that funny! But it didn't seem to matter. It was the type of joke that they used to tease each other with when they were children. It was just the…the absurdity of the thought of him and…Yolei? With Lady Isendre? That cold fish? Where had Kari gotten that idea?

"It's not funny!" Kari hissed as she punched him again. But the corners of her lips were trembling too, as if she was trying to hold back her laughter.

"That's not what I meant at all," Takeru gasped. "Your words, not mine. Maybe your subconscious is trying to tell you something." He stopped and cleared his throat, then continued in a lower, more conspiratorial tone. "Actually, I think it's Ken that's after you. Think of all the times he's walked in on us…"

If Kari was red before, it was nothing compared to the candy apple crimson colour of her face now. "Don't even go there," she sputtered, trying to sound ominous as she struggled unsuccessfully with her own giggles. "I mean…can you picture his reaction if I…uh…confessed my…uh…"

The mental image of Ken's flabbergasted expression as Kari confessed her love to him was too much. Both of them were forced to lean on one another as they collapsed with laughter. Takeru buried his face in Kari's white cloak in a vain attempt to stem the guffaws coming from deep within him. For her part, Kari was shaking so badly with mirth, Takeru feared she would choke. It was ridiculous. It was the night before what could be the biggest event of their lives, and here they were tittering over hypothetical pairings like a pair of school-children. Yet, it felt strangely right. How long has it been? Takeru wondered, since I've laughed like this? It seemed like forever. Nowadays, there was precious little to laugh about anymore. Yet…laughter seemed to come naturally with Kari.

It was a long time before either of them could stop laughing. When his giggles finally died down, Takeru leaned back and took a long, shaky breath and wiped away the tears from his eyes. Something about the laughter seemed to have made the weight on his shoulders dissolve into the thin air. Beside him, Kari leaned in even closer, resting her head on the hollow between his shoulder and his neck. Without really thinking about it, he wrapped his arms around her slim shoulders and allowed his own head to fall onto her soft, chestnut hair. The idea of it was awkward, but it felt…right, somehow, to have Kari leaning on him like that. As if she completed some part of him that he hadn't known was missing until now.

Takeru didn't know how long they remained like that. Minutes. Hours, maybe. Who cared? The wind had died down. The darkness seemed to cast a tranquil spell on the two of them that made time tick by like treacle. Takeru could feel her shoulders moving slowly as she breathed, could feel the soft beating of her heart in his chest. He could smell the sweet fragrance of her long hair as he rested his cheek against the top of her head. Every moment, every heartbeat was too perfect to be true.

"We have a big day tomorrow," Kari murmured at last.

Takeru nodded agreement. "We do."

Another long pause.

"We should go back. Try to get some rest," she tried again.

"We should."

Neither of them moved.

Then, impetuously, Kari suddenly twisted her head around and pecked Takeru's closest cheek. As surprise flitted across his features, she pulled him upright and hugged him, hard. "I missed you," she murmured into his shoulder. "A lot."

For Takeru, the world seemed to spin. Slowly, his hands moved across her back and brought her even closer. The sensation of her small, perfect form pressed against his own brought up memories and emotions that he thought he had forgotten. The blood rose into his face and his cheek tingled where Kari's lips had grazed it. The soft touch of her hands, the sweet scent of her long, chestnut hair, the delicate shape of her shoulder-blades, the feather-light brush of her cheek, everything was as he remembered it: absolutely perfect.

"It was really strange," Takeru managed. He didn't want to let go. She felt as if she were made for his arms, so perfectly did she fit into them. "Not having you there. I mean it."

Kari said nothing. Instead, she shifted slightly until she was almost kneeling on the ground, facing Takeru. With a small sigh, she leaned closer and lowered her head until their noses were almost touching. Half-wondering whether he had fallen asleep and was now living in a dream, Takeru wonderingly ran a hand up the soft curve of her back and into her silky hair, twisting and turning it through his fingers. "I love you," he whispered into her ear as he stroked the back of her head.

Kari braced her hands against Takeru's chest and leaned back slightly. As she did, the moonlight caught the dark aura of her hair and turned it into a beautiful silvery white, illuminating the fine features of her face and the pale red of her eyes. The sight took Takeru's breath away. She was so beautiful. So amazingly beautiful…

"I'll never get tired of hearing that, you know," she said quietly.

"When this is all over, you can hear it ten times a day if you want," Takeru promised.

Kari giggled, then lay her head back down again. Stroking her cheek with one hand, Takeru looked up.

"Kari," he murmured. "Do you know where the others are?"

"Last I saw of them, they were heading for their chambers," Kari replied. "Why?"

"So they're probably not looking for us?"

Kari stirred slightly. In the darkness, Takeru could feel rather than see her impish grin. "If any of them walk in on us, well, they can just walk back out."

Takeru shook with silent laughter. "I'm glad you feel that way," he said. "Because if they do, I'm not stopping."

Then Kari's eyes widened as Takeru shifted under her. Suddenly, she was the one on the ground, and it was Takeru that was leaning down towards her. Gently, his finger lifted her chin until she was looking right into his eyes. The normally clear blue eyes seemed slightly unfocused. And, before she could breathe or protest, he leaned forward.

The contact of their lips was so gentle, Kari could barely feel it. Kari felt her heart stop a she instinctively let go of Takeru's arm and wrapped her hand around his neck instead, pulling him closer, pulling him deeper into the kiss.  She could feel Takeru's hands around her waist, running across the bare skin of her arms, playing tenderly with her hair. It all felt the same. As exhilarating and shocking as ice; as warming and soothing as the calm starlight. Overwhelmed, she closed her eyes and surrendered to the magic moment.

Cocooned in the warmth of Takeru's arms, Kari felt truly safe for the first time in years. Though tomorrow would bring its share of  troubles, tomorrow could wait.

For now, Takeru was holding her. Takeru was kissing her. Just in that same moment, just in that same heartbeat, there was already a world to explore in itself.

**Author's notes: The reason why this chapter took so long was because it underwent major, major rewrites. The original version, especially the ending of the original version, looked nothing like this one. My posting this now is a bit of a leap of faith because there are a lot of things in chapter nine that have to change because of the edits to this chapter, and I'm not entirely sure that this is the best way, but I don't want to delay any longer.

I don't think subsequent chapters will be quite as long as this one. This one was 31 pages in Word, or 18,000 words. _ I need to control my chapter lengths a little better.

Writing the Takari was an…interesting experience. I hope you enjoyed it, because there probably won't be another one, or at least one as developed as this one, for the rest of this story. Like I said, Seihad ¹ romance! *shakes head* And to think…I had vowed never to succumb to throwing out fan-service…