[Aboard the Vione]

"Lord Folken. Lord Dilandau," acknowledged Jajuka as he bowed.

"Thank you for coming on such short notice, Jajuka," replied Folken, as his fingers danced across the keypad on the wall. The doors opened, and he gestured for Jajuka to enter.

Jajuka regarded Dilandau. "It is my pleasure, Lord Folken. How are you, Lord Dilandau?"

Albatou waved his hand. "Ready to kill whoever is responsible for this mess. Of all the people to choose from, why did it have to be that fop's sister?"

"Dilandau, you mustn't say such things about Allen Schezar," corrected Folken, as he sat down in his chair. "He is a noble man and a worthy opponent."

Dilandau chuckled as he sat down across from Folken. "Noble, huh? I suppose several women would agree with that assessment."

"Dilandau!"

He smiled. "You really need to get out once in a while, Folken. There are other joys to be experienced other than altering fate."

Jajuka looked at the boy, then at Folken. "Mi ne elliath sinome te ayoto."

Folken blinked in surprise. "Tenumbra lithspa Fanelia? Kestra elliath grishnak voten."

"You know it's rude to speak another language, in someone's presence Folken, unless they understand what you're talking about," replied Dilandau.

"I was unaware that Jajuka was fluent with the language of Fanelia. He was commenting on your...finer points." Folken tried to repress a smile. It had been so long since he heard his native tongue.

"Was he?" asked Dilandau. "I hope he didn't leave anything out. Can we get down to business? I have a sorcerer to kill."

"Where is Morgreth?" asked Jajuka.

"Arashi is watching him," replied Folken.

"Are you sure that is wise, Lord Folken?" inquired Jajuka.

"Given their past, I think Morgreth will think twice before trying anything. Now, tell us what you know about Dilandau's past."

[Aboard the Crusade]

Millerna brought some tea into the make-shift study room that Dryden had made. He was looking off into the distance.

"Dryden?" asked Millerna. "Are you ok? You've been quiet for some time now."

The merchant laughed a hearty laugh. "That's the way you like your men, is it?"

"What?" she flushed with anger. "No! It's just that you look like you have something on your mind." She placed the tray down and handed him a cup.

He smiled and glanced at her sideways as he accepted the tea. "I do. But...it's not what you think."

She sat down next to him. "So you knew Folken?"

Dryden nodded. "A long time ago...before he worked for Zaibach."

"How did you meet him?"

The merchant smiled, "I received a request one day from Fanelia. The prince asked to speak with the most intelligent man in Asturia about a matter of great importance. Naturally, several people flocked to Fanelia, but none could answer the prince's question. None, save that of a young merchant."

"What was the question?" asked Millerna.

Dryden looked at her and smiled inwardly as she seemed to be truly interested in the story, and more importantly, his company. He chuckled. "It's amazing as to how a simple question could stump so many people..."

//Flashback//

"Tell me where the Dragon came from!" demanded Prince Folken Lacour de Fanel.

One by one, Asturia's wisest men approached the prince, and the prince shook his head at their answers until no one was left.

"Is that it?" young Folken asked in disbelief. "Is that all Asturia has to offer?"

Someone laughed. The prince saw a young man sitting under the tree. He appeared to be around the prince's age. The light of the sun gleamed off of his glasses. "It's such an easy question, Prince Folken. I should charge you for having me travel all the way out here to answer it."

Folken walked towards him.

"Are you crazy, Dryden?" hissed one of the Asturian wise men. "He'll have your head for that comment!"

"Who are you?" Folken asked, as the wind blew at his aqua blue hair.

Dryden rose and brushed the dirt off of his tan coat. "I am Dryden Fassa."

"Lord Meidan's son?" asked Folken.

The merchant nodded.

"Funny, you don't look like royalty, Lord Dryden."

Dryden waved. "I'm not into all of that pomp, Prince Folken. And it's Dryden. I hate titles."

"Very well," replied Folken as he extended his hand. "Provided you drop the 'Prince' bit and just call me Folken."

"Deal," replied the merchant as he shook Folken's hand.

"Now tell me, Dryden. Where did the Dragon come from?"

Dryden looked around to make sure that no one was listening. He whispered the answer into Folken's ear.

The prince's eyes widened and he stepped back. "You have proof of this?"

"Right here," the merchant said, as he patted a satchel of books.

"You are a strange man, Dryden Fassa. A strange man, but...interesting."

//End Flashback//

A sharp elbow jolted Dryden out of the flashback.

"What was the answer to the question?"

The merchant grinned. "Come now, princess! Have you not been paying attention to what has occurred these past few weeks? You've already heard the answer."

"You're not going to tell me, are you?" she asked. "You're going to make me figure it out."

The merchant chuckled. "It's not that hard. I can give you a clue if you want."

"What? And have you gloat about it forever? No thanks! I'll figure it out on my own."

"That's my girl," he replied as she stormed out of the room.

To Be Continued