Part Two

Her legs burned and her chest heaved. If they found her... She tripped over a rock and tumbled down a hill, her long hair tangling, mercilessly. Sobs racked her body, but she refused to stop. Get away...

There were the gates-YES! She was free. For the moment, unless they caught her. But no, she wouldn't let them, she had come too far. She would make this her story, HER destiny...and NO one would stop her...

Not even the owner of the eyes that watched her from a distance, since she was unaware of their presence. But watch her they did...

Kisrel made good speed on her first day, easily finding her way back onto the High Road. The map which Dom had reluctantly graced her with, was strangely marked, and difficult to read, since Kisrel didn't understand Al Bhed.

She guessed that she was on the road to the Old Djose Temple. This concerned her a little, because it meant, she would have to go the long way around to Macalania. Not only that, but the entire area was not one to be traveled lightly.

"At least, I don't have to go to Guadosalam," she muttered, thankfully.

Why is this happening? I wish you were here with me.
Everything is connected.
What could be waiting where the threads meet?

Kisrel sat up from her uncomfortable bed. She had walked down the Highroad all day, finally stopping to rest after the sun had sunk low in the sky. She had found a boulder, out of sight of the road and had just planned to lie down to nap on it. But when she awoke, the sun had again risen, illuminating the long journey ahead of her. She ate a meager breakfast, then set out, determined to at least make it to Dra Suuhvmuf...wherever that was. A breeze came up, and she shivered involuntarily.

Perhaps it was because of her short stay with the Al Bhed, but Kisrel suddenly felt acutely alone. Still, she brushed the thought away like a parasite and kept moving.

It was about this time that she heard the scream.

They had found her, she was sure of it. They were right there-ready to drag her back. A cry, held back for so long ripped from her throat, and she felt a hard pressure on her back, bearing her to the ground. A hand clamped over her mouth, cutting off her circulation. She spasmed in shock and pain, but the person did not hurt her.

What were they waiting for?

When she finally stopped struggling, the grip on her relaxed, slightly.

"I'm going to let you up now, but only if you promise to be still. I have no interest in carrying you. Do you understand?"

She nodded and finally opened her eyes, which she had been squeezing shut, hoping it was all just a nightmare.

But the face above her was not the one she had expected.

It was obviously a man. He rocked back on his haunches and she quickly moved away, hugging her knees to her chest and staring at him like a moogle in the face of a killer hound.

His hair was dark, but had been bleached lighter in the sun. His face was lined with years of hardship and toil but his eyes were the most captivating feature. A pure yellow not bright like the sun, but darker, like unrefined gold.

Wolf's eyes.

She swolled a sob, and asked, her voice cracking from strain:

"Who are you? What do you want with me?"

He stood up, sheathing a sword she hadn't even realized he had, and held out his hand. Warily, she took it.

Standing on level ground he was a almost a good foot taller than her. He held his back staight, but when he looked down at her frail form, there was no condescension in his eyes.

"I'm here to protect you, Princess."

But I'm not a princess. Or am I? That's the benefit of not knowing who your parents are, you can fantasize about mysterious origins. So maybe I am. But who is he?

Now that she was standing she was able to see him more clearly. He wore a long gray coat, the color of the sky over the Thunder Plains. Underneath, he wore a deep vermillion vest and pants, and high black boots. He was an altogether imposing figure. She was about to ask more when-

"What is going on here?" Kisrel demanded, cresting the hill to find two equally puzzling characters. The young girl spun around, eyes wide. She opened her mouth to answer, but the older man stepped in front and said:

"Nothing that concerns you stranger."

Kisrel crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes narrow pinpoints of silver. The young girl, her eyes glazed with unshed tears, touched the gruff looking man on the arm, and stepped around him, as he fingered the hilt of his blade.

"Please," she begged, "Do not hurt us. I am Lesca, recently escaped from-"she stopped and shuddered. Taking a steadying breath, she continued:

"This is my Guardian..." her voice trailed off in uncertainty.

"Brael."

Kisrel half jumped half-walked down the hill. Lesca's voice matched the scream she had heard just moments before.

She sized them both up, the odd pair. Something was off here, but she couldn't put her finger on it, and Lesca's fear seemed genuine.

"I'm Kisrel. Are you in some kind of trouble?" she wasted no time in asking. Lesca shook her head violently.

"No. I mean-well, not anymore."
Kisrel didn't like the vague, evasive answer.

"And what are you doing on the HighRoad?"

Brael cut in at this point.

"Are you a Crimson Knight?"

Kisrel swollowed.

"No."

"Then I don't see how our business is your business. Why don't you tell us why YOU are on the Highroad."

Kisrel averted her eyes. She didn't trust them, not like she had the Al Bhed. She didn't feel comfortable telling them her true mission.

"I'm on a mission for the Great Mother," she lied. Lesca clasped her hands.

"Truly? Oh, that is so wonderful!"

"It...is?"

"Oh, yes! I have prayed that the Lady would send someone with which to guide me to my destiny, and look! I have found you!" She sounded so enthusiastic, Kisrel couldn't get a word in.

"Your Highness," Brael issued a warning. Kisrel's head snapped up.

"What?"

Lesca blushed.

"Oh, don't listen to him. It's no big deal really."

Kisrel didn't understand how being royalty could be construed as 'no big deal' but she held her peace. Besides, hadn't she just been wishing she had companions? Well, not really, but perhaps their company would be welcome.

"Very well. I am making for the Macalania Ruins. Do you know how to get there?"

Lesca ran her fingers through her long brown hair.

"Well-no, not really."

"Don't you have a map?" Brael asked, pointing to the one in Kisrel's hand. She scowled at him and answered:

"Yes, but it's in Al Bhed."

He made a sound that was a cross between a growl and a snicker.

"Look, if you're going to come, come. If not, then I take my leave." Kisrel turned on her heel and headed back up the hill.

"Hey! Hey-wait!" Lesca called after, running. Brael walked, briskly but steadily behind her.

And so the second part of Kisrel's journey began.