Chapter Five: Redemption or Destruction? Part I

In the darkness of the wilderness Sean stood, solitary. He looked left, and right, but could find no trace of the enemy that had escaped his sight. He gripped his Claymore even tighter with his sweaty hands, waiting. Suddenly, a black figure leapt high above the tops of the trees. Sean readied to guard, just as the black enemy flipped, and switched to a diving position.

Suddenly Sean's sword was gone, and he was left with nothing but his hands to defend against this foe. It plummeted down at him, and he had no time to even take a step as the figure's forehead came in contact with his own. Everything froze, and Sean found himself staring into two fierce brown eyes, just like his own.

"Ah!" Sean bolted out of the bed and reached for his weapon…but his hand grasped at nothing. He suddenly came to the realization that it had merely been a dream. He was in no danger. However, one moment later, he also realized he wasn't in his bed.

Then it all came back to him, sadness struck him as he vividly recalled each and every one of the other Dragoons having their souls removed from their bodies. He'd killed Darteth, in a rage, and brought them to Ulara.

"Humph, that would explain the Wingly bed, and the silver robes," Sean said. He got up, and looked around. The room was of the typical style: dome-shaped. There were a few separate articles of abstract furniture scattered about the room, and three teleporter pads in the back. Sean thought it would be wiser to not test where they led, and walked outside.

The spring city, Ulara was as active as ever, Winglies filled the skies, and those who preferred treading took up the bridges and sidewalks. The forest far below teemed with wildlife that only a few human eyes had ever seen before. Waterfalls ran down in several places, most eventually leading to the wilderness below.

Sean also could vaguely remember his position, he was very near Charle's home. There was a Wingly standing in the doorway in front of Sean, enjoying the same scenery, not aware of Sean's presence behind him. Sean tapped his shoulder, "Excuse me."

"Hm? Oh, you're awake!" He said. "Greetings, my name is Shalohgad. Charle instructed me to wait here for you to arise, then lead you to her home. You've been sleeping for two days," Shalohgad said.

"Two days?" Sean asked.

"Yes, Sean, you were terribly drained from the battle in the Death Frontier," Shalohgad answered. Sean nodded, and shrugged it off.

Shaloghad led him through the quickest route to Charle's home, and let him in, standing outside again. Sean walked in slowly.

"Hello again, Sean," Charle said from a room down the hall. Sean walked in, to find Charle standing just by the threshold, smiling. "It is good to see you again."

"Same here, Charle," Sean said. "Are my friends okay?"

Charle looked somewhat pained. "At the moment, no. Their souls have been torn from their bodies, with all manners of attachment torn. The souls have no guide back to their bodies, and so, will have to be led. The process is a tedious one, but the proper Winglies are being gathered as we speak. To get all of your friends back, one by one, will take about one week," she said.

Sean nodded. "Where are they?"

"They are in our hospital, on the other side of the city, you can get there by this teleporter pad," she said. "But before you go I would have a word-" But she was cut off as Sean stepped onto the pad and vanished.

In the blink of an eye, and a flash of light, Sean was across the city, in a hospital room with seven beds, seven bodies lying in them, and seven differently colored souls beside them. The souls were kept in a sort of magical barriers, bouncing gently off the walls. Sean beheld all his friends, lying on their cots, with their heads facing the wall they were up against, and a small panel over the forehead of each of them. He walked past them all, looking at them, and deciding that the panels over their heads was a sort of vital sign reading device.

Finally, at the end, he came upon Melissa. He pulled a chair up by her bed and sat down, resting his chin on his fingers. Memories uncontrollably rushed through his mind, watching Darteth pull her soul from her body, and cast her to the ground.

Sean grabbed her hand, expecting a deathly chill, but it wasn't like that at all. Her hand was full of the same warmth that it had always possessed. Her body was working, there was just nothing behind her beautiful dark eyes. Sean held her hand, thinking sad thoughts, and praying for some sign that she felt his hand. However, Sean was looking at the empty body, the wrong place, had he looked to the soul, he'd have noticed it bounce towards him, and its flames intensify slightly.

Tears fell down his face, and onto her hand. Something held him back, but in a matter of seconds he discarded hesitation, and kissed her hand. He then held it against his cheek, whispering. "Oh, please get better quick, please, please, please."

His breath stuttered, and he set her hand back down, and wiped his eyes. He stood up and looked at all his friends. Charle said that they'd be fine, in a week all of them would be awake and okay.

"Can I help you?" an old voice asked. Sean turned around and noticed seven Winglies walking into the room, one holding a very dusty, old book.

"Um, yes. Are you the Winglies that are going to help my comrades?" Sean asked. The foremost Wingly nodded.

"We are, and if you would please leave us, we will begin directly," he said. Sean nodded, walked to the back of the room, took one last look at his friends and stepped onto the pad again.

Instantly he was back in Charle's room, and found her waiting for him. "Sorry, but I had to see them for myself," he said.

"It's alright, Sean," Charle said. "I should have sent you there first. But now that you know that all will be well, we need to speak of this battle."

Sean nodded, he gave details of Darteth's physical features, the eyes, the white hair, the pale blue skin, and so on. Then he spoke of Darteth's proclaimed history, and Charle spoke up finally, shaking her head.

"Impossible, no human and Wingly alliance ever annihilated an entire species, and I've never heard of a soul thieving race. Much less anything EVER dwelling in the Death Frontier. The story doesn't add up, he must have been lying," she said.

"But he was so excited about it, and what would be the point of lying to people you plan to kill?" Sean asked.

"Well, perhaps he thought the story was true himself," Charle suggested. "We took the liberty of examining the jeweled pouch that he held the souls with. We quickly determined that the jewels were from the caverns below Mayfil, and the pouch itself reeks of the vile place," Charle said.

Sean's eyes narrowed. "This thing also said it had a master, but who could command something so powerful? And why Mayfil? That city just refuses to stay out of our lives."

"Indeed, but I would strongly advise you not go there alone. You're still weak from the battle, and you would not have your friends to aid you should you find a powerful evil there. I recommend you train for the healing week in our gymnasium, and allow your friends time to recover.

You need to stretch out your muscles, Sean. The Divine Dragon said, speaking up for the first time since Sean had woken up.

Sean nodded. "Alright, do you have a pad to take me to the gym?" Charle nodded, and led him to another room, and sent him on his way. Sean found himself on a wall lined with teleportation pads, viewing a vast room full of several levels of activities for close and long range combat, and magic use. Sean was not alone, either, not at all. Dozens of Winglies were present and training vigorously, and few stopped to even acknowledge Sean's entrance.

Sean grabbed a sword from the rack, and stepped to a less crowded area to practice accuracy and speed. He practiced technique for a few hours, but in truth, his heart wasn't in it, he was too worried about his friends. Eventually he placed the sword back on the rack and walked outside.

He strode about the city, trying to take his mind off his friends troubles with the scenery, but it did not work well. He sat by a small, artificial pond, and watched the fish float around, reflective scales shining with the sun. He saw himself in the reflection for a moment, but a fishtail flopped through the face and ruined the calm water. At that Sean turned, to see something he hadn't seen in years, the Wingly pub. The last two times he'd been in Ulara, he hadn't been old enough to order a drink.

Sean, don't. The Divine Dragon warned.

It's just a few drinks, what could it hurt? Sean thought.

He walked in, ignoring further warning from the Divine Dragon. He sat down at the bar, and a Wingly walked up. "Well, a familiar face in a whole new place," the bartender said. "What'll it be?"

"Whatever you think is best," Sean said, smiling. The Wingly nodded, and poured a glass of a strange, foaming purple liquid. Sean took the glass and took a sip. It tasted great, better than most champagnes, but it was also strong, the way he liked it.

"Yup, this'll do just fine," Sean said.

The sun seemed to leap to the west, and Sean finally found himself in front of several downed glasses of what he learned was called The Release. He ordered another one, but the bartender stopped. "Pal, I think you've had enough, I mean look at you, your half way off the stool."

"Fine! You know what? You just lost a customer!" Sean said stupidly, and stumbled out of the pub.

You're despicable, The Divine Dragon said. He hadn't spoken a single word since Sean entered the bar.

"You have no idea," Sean said, his eyes glossed over. Why again? Now of all times, when he needed to escape the sorrow worse than ever, did it come back. He sat down and laid his head back.

"I cant stand this anymore, Sean!" Melissa had yelled.

"What am I doing?" Sean said.

"Oh, you're impossible!"

"WHAT?"

"We haven't spent any time together since that last raid at the foot of Mount Mortal Dragon. One uprising of evil and you just sank back into your shell again, remember that?" Tears had filled her eyes. "I thought the others and I had pulled you through that, but you never will truly leave behind your old self, will you? Strong, proud, Sean. There are more important things than being ready for the worst to happen all the time. If you cant see that, then I don't think I can stay with you any longer."

"Fine. Get out!" Sean saw his hand, pointing a finger at the door.

Melissa's tears streamed down her face, but her face was twisted with anger. She sobbed and ran out the door, slamming it behind her.

Sean opened his eyes, and saw the starry night. Why did he sink back into his shell? Why did he insist on being proud and strong? Stupid.

He just didn't want anyone to get hurt, or was it something else? Sean stood up, and looked around, the Wingly streets had nearly emptied, and he was virtually alone, now.

He'd no doubt made a fool of himself reliving his most horrid memory in the middle of a public place. He leaned against the magnificently carved stone guards on the side of the bridge.

He felt as though he was a paradox, Ulara was so beautiful, so pure, so well meaning, but his presence was welcome, and he was vile, stupid, ignorant…arrogant. It didn't match. He looked over the edge, down to the forest. Even that was quiet, all its inhabitants had begun their slumber. His eyes moved forward.

Strange, even the decrepit Death Frontier had a certain beauty to it on a night like this. Sean stood there, leaning for a time, how long, he didn't know. He had no idea of what was coming up behind him until it was too late.

An arm slipped under his own and grabbed his neck, and yanked down on his head. Sean instinctively fought against it, and then another arm repeated the process on his other side. Now Sean was trapped in this hidden assailant's full nelson.

He pushed Sean's head down, and tripped out his legs. Then he let go and turned Sean around. "I could have just thrown you over the edge and no one would ever have known."

Sean knew that voice. But was it really that late in the night. Suddenly anger swelled up inside him. "Mike?"

Mike crossed his arms and took a step back. "The old you would have seen that coming, not the you from before Melbu, but the you from afterwards. You used to be truly powerful Sean. Where did that go?"

Author's Note: Hey! We really appreciate how positive you guys are about our stories, we put a lot of work into them and you're telling us it was worth it. Thank you all so much, please review and we'll keep posting!