The two of them broke out into the open air, gasping for clean breath, a few hours later. The mines had served as a perfect funnel and holder for the smoke and smell of blood, choking the two of them into near unconsciousness. Kidria had not complained however...she remained complacent and detached. Daleth felt sorry for her...it was a lot to take in for someone so young to see so much death and violence.

What Daleth did not know is that all that had very little to do with Kidria's mood.

All along the way she had urged Daleth to move faster, hurry along; Daleth had only taken it as the nervous ramblings of a scared young girl...but he had not disliked her for that. The truth was that Kidria knew they were being followed; a voice small and unnoticed had given her insights into what her senses did not normally see. Now, the voice was getting louder...if you could even call it a voice. It had turned into a cautious feeling of immense tension that left Kidria's body rippling with energy. It was readying her for something. The young girl was scared, but the "voice" or second soul inside of her was brave and strict, uncaring about the little girl as a person, and only worried about the body's safety. It was an odd feeling.

Still, Kidria pressed onward with Daleth in tow, and, despite her few uneasy hours of rest and her empty belly, she felt no hunger, knew no fatigue, and had no pain. In fact, she was gaining in strength. Kidria told herself it was merely adrenaline coursing through her blood, but why did adrenaline enhance her sights, sounds, and senses?

Daleth, however, simply plodded along, ever watchful of his surroundings. It was many hours before the two of them reached the Valkrum Dunes. The trip had been stanched with the smell of burned stone and blood which drifted from Bastok, which had faded with distance...only to be replaced with a new smell of burning wood as they traveled north.

Daleth assumed it was merely the smell of the lost Sandoria, and thought little more about it. After mumbling a grumbling comment about the awful smell, Kidria started to speak, but cut herself off in mid sentence and did not speak again. When the two travelers finally reached the tall, wooden gates of Selbina, Daleth was shocked to see that it was Kidria who drew her weapon first.

"What is it?" Daleth was quizzical. The young girl did not reply. "Kidria, what's wrong?"

She shook her head. "You didn't see them?"

Daleth stared at her "Uh....huh?"

The young girl coughed. "Neither did I. But she did."

"You ok Kid? You've been quiet...and now you're scaring me."

"Something's killing me."

The girl sudden burst into a sprint, and jumped forward into the gates of the small port town. Daleth was shortly after her with lance in hand, screaming her name as he followed, until he jumped around a corner to see Kidria standing atop the hill staring at the remnants of the blazing fishing village.

Every building, every boat, every last man, woman, child, and animal had been either burnt, broken, or slashed into debris and pieces. The sand, normally a soft, glowing silver, now was a sooted black color and soaked with clotted dark blood. The sight made sent Daleth's empty belly reeling and turning, and he was forced to turn away to keep from losing his lunch. Kidria merely stared, untouched by the desolation before her.

There came a vacant, distant, outburst from the other side of the small town, and both Elvaans turned toward the outburst at the same time. It was not a cry of mercy, but rather one of an angered man. Lance in Daleth's hand and sword in Kidria's, the two of them jogged over to the south side of the demolished city.

The young paladin crashed into the wooden shed, sending splinters flying everywhere as other broken pieces of the wood tore into the young Humes flesh and bone, ripping his skin apart. Still too stubborn to give up, the Hume got up, blood dripping from his nose and mouth, and leaned on what was left of the shed as he used what was left of his strength to lift his sword and shield back up in front of his foes.

The only reason Chase had lasted this long was because of the anger these things had given him. Chase had arrived on boat to find the town in mid slaughter less then an hour ago, and in his bitter rage, he did not know what he was throwing himself into when he fought these strange five foes. Pale faced and clad in black armor, Chase did not actually recognize these things as his once sane friends. To him, they were merely another enemy, and although, as a paladin, Chase could take a lot of punishment, he had reached his limit. Too much more would leave him dead.

Regardless, cowardice was overridden with another wave of anger as the blonde Hume rushed back towards the white haired Mithra with a black axe, who met his charge with a sidestep, followed by a crushing kick to his chest. Chase gasped for air and coughed fluids as the Galka stepped forward and smashed the paladin into the sand, leaving Chase choking on dirt.

The five of the pale warriors did not actually view their opponent as a challenge; he was merely a doll they could throw around until the one who they were actually waiting for arrived. The simple fact that Chase was still alive was a miracle; the chance that he would be living for much longer was a near impossibility. The levitating Taru with a black scythe waved his hand horizontally, and Chase was raised off the ground like a puppet on strings, and then placed back on his feet. Still reeling, Chase's watered eyes couldn't even focus straight any more. All he saw was five blurs before him, simply staring. There came a cry to his right, and a blur rushed past Chase and sent the unaware Galka stumbling backwards. A second blur was shortly behind, which wildly sliced at the floating taru, which clumsily dodged the blows until it was caught with a fist to the face and reeled backwards. The other three pale faced fighters, now aware of their new attackers, were shortly upon the two new aggressors, but Chase had recovered and now rejoined the fight.

The pale Elvaan woman was the first to fend off Chase, with her curving sword and black shield hand in hand. Chase smashed the guarding Elvaan with his own shield, but the pale warrior easily shook it off, and tried to leg sweep Chase, who stepped out of range of the attack. Again, Chase charged the Elvaan, this time in a body blow, which was enough to knock the Elvaans shield out of the way which Chase finished with a sword strike at the black body armor. The blow bounced right off, surprising the paladin at the strength of the armor.

The pale Elvaan smiled and smashed Chase on the nose with the butt of her sword, causing more blood to erk out of Chase's nostrils. Stunned but still far too angry to feel pain, Chase grabbed the Elvaans hand, turned himself around, and used his body as a lever to heave the Elvaan over his shoulder and into a wooden fence. Pieces of wood and debris filled the air in a choking cloud, leaving Chase with a small amount of self satisfaction.

The Paladin turned to see two curving blades flying at his face. Chase clumsily raised his shield to defect the blows, and was far too slow to move out of the way of the following side kick given to him by the pale Hume. Chase stumbled backwards, eyes seeing spots from the immense beating, and was soon sent into flight as a crushing uppercut to his chin from the pale Hume sent him directly into the arms of the Pale Elvaan, who had recovered herself. Without hesitation, the Elvaan swung her body and heaved Chase like a football twenty feet directly onto a stone fall.

No longer able to move his arms, Chase peeled off the wall and fell to the ground in a heap. His breathing was rapid and harsh, and he no longer even had the energy to open his eyes. It was a struggle in itself simply to keep breathing.

However, after a moment, Chase began to feel warmth soothe his body. The new heating feeling was far too comforting to be his own blood, but with this newfound feeling, Chase felt his strength return, and he was able to pick himself off the ground. He stood up lazily, as if he had just awoken, and found that he was no longer so bruised and battered. A small turn of the head revealed this salvation; he found Halystaru and Fupac staring at him up on the stairs fifteen feet away, with Fupac's scythe drawn and Halystaru's healing magic ready to be put to use. Chase grinned roguishly, wiped the blood from his nose, and proceeded directly back into the fight.

"They're like flies. They keep coming from god knows where."

"You act like they're giving us a challenge."

"Not at all. I'm simply tired of this game of cat and mouse. Can we just kill the girl and get it over with? I'm eager for a true massacre."

"I agree. Unleash it upon them. No more toying, we paid for playing around last time."

"Perfection...it feels good to have it once more."

"Begin the rites."

They all spoke as one:

"When dark recalls all it has to offer,

Renewing the object it once held,

The greatest power shall be found in the smallest possible voice,

The six shall stand against the five when one is felled,

But victory means death and losing means destruction;

All decided by the sister's choice."

Time slowed, and then stopped. Fupac stopped his scythe in mid strike and stepped back, aware of a change in the five attackers before him. They had all stopped in their attacks and ceased all signs of awareness, but now, their bodies seemed to soak up the light from the flames of the buildings and the moonlight. Fupac's body began to grow cold, the air became chilly, and the stars in the sky dimmed for a moment. Shortly after, the world as Fupac knew it exploded with darkness.

All thoughts in his mind were suddenly replaced with cold, bitter memories of every sad event that had occurred in his life. His feelings were overwhelming with a terrible, consuming anger, and his spirit dimmed his mind with total fear. He felt utter despair, lost hope, total anger, unfulfilling sadness, and every other form of dark feeling he had ever felt in his life. He fell to the ground clutching his eyes and face, screaming for an invisible mercy. His fellow attackers all fell the ground with horrible looks on their faces, as well...except for Kidria. She seemed untouched.

And all at once, all these horrid thoughts and feelings were pulled from Fupac, sucked from his body like an invisible force ripping them from him like a vacuum, and pulled by an invisible string towards the five pale warriors. Their white skin grew even whiter, their black armor became a self preserved night, and they began to glow, and shimmer. The air around them began to move in waves, as if immense heat erupted from the five warriors, and then they began to move.

Fupac was not even aware that he was being attacked. He simply felt pain. His senses were far too slow, only quick enough to realize something was moving, and that he was being thrown around. In a few short seconds he found himself falling from the stone wall across town, with his fellow fighters all bloody, bleeding, bruised, and cut in hundreds of different wounds. He no longer saw any of the pale warriors, but he did sense that they were there.

Fupac pushed himself to his feet only to be thrown backwards once more into the stone wall, crushing his body like a tin can. He fell to the ground once again, this time unconscious, while the other four, Kidria, Chase, Halystaru, and Daleth, simply watched, helpless. Daleth, for the first time in many years, realized he was too scared to actually do anything useful. He was looking for an unseen foe, totally helpless to see anything that might be there. Then he heard an odd sound...humming. He turned to see the young Elvaan, Kidria, was humming a small song.

A purple glow appeared on the sand before Daleth, and the young dragoon was suddenly aware of a new presence. He turned to see a seal of summoning, which exploded in a seal of light, where a large wolf appeared that promptly howled at the dark moon in the sky. The wolf immediately broke into a huge rage, tearing into the nearby air, attacking invisible forms. Immense, powerful cuts and wounds suddenly tore into the hound, but the beast did not let up. It bit at random areas in the air, until its mouth found a target, and a small drop of silver blood appeared in the air. Fenrir, the wolf, seemed to smile at this small victory. The invisible attacks on Fenrir intensified, and the wolf began to slow with its loss of blood.

There was a cry, and Daleth turned his head to see Halystaru had gotten up and prepared a spell. There was a flurry of sand, and Daleth watched as the summoner Hume, Januz, turned to look at his compatriot beast fight off the attackers. As light filled Daleth's eyes and the view of Selbina faded, he watched Fenrir fall to the ground howling at the moon, which had turned a dark red color in the now starless night sky.