Secret Meetings

"Dating Gawi: This means the usual way. This is the party Devil Mischief's usual strategy while battling. The knight takes the brunt of the attack while the other three will support from a distance. Rather common tactic.

"Flight of Seven Angels: The alchemist protects the knight from additional damage with coating wax while the hunter will distract the enemy through a barrage of arrows, giving time for the mage to chant a storm gust. When this done the knight "rides" on the gust and slashes the enemy seven times. The knight seems to possess a magical item that gives him enhanced "holy" powers. He however hesitated to harness that power and failed to defeat the Eddga.

"Seven stars: This idea was gained by the female monk. This is simply a modified version of flight...the monks attacked from seven different directions, harnessing the power through a seven-pointed formation. They only won because the Eddga had been sufficiently weakened."

"Impressive...for boy band tricks." In the dark towering room, a man kneeled before an elegant woman sitting in a large square throne. Cold seeped from outside and a storm brewed on the large stained glass windows. Shadows turned into ghastly shapes then stilled before slithering again. A black cat stretched beside the throne and glowered with large and yellow eyes at the kneeling figure. The man had the tan uniform of a bard and a wide-brimmed hat used by the men of the desert—men of great tragedy. Strands of his hair revealed it to be long and the color of dull silver.

She uncrossed her legs and looked down on him. The woman had hair the color of straw sticking out of her hair like fan. Two oversized black metal boots and striped red and blue knee-high socks adorned her legs. A short white robe with long sleeves and black trimmings finished her look. This woman looked exactly like a Loli Ruri.

"And those monks are no better, copying moves from little boys." She didn't laugh but continued to stare down at the bard. "The alchemist, all he did was support?"

The man nodded, careful not to look directly at her eyes.

"Pathetic!" The woman crowed with laughter.

"Thank you so much for your 'assistance.' Keep watch of that party for me," she said, her attention clearly elsewhere. "And I'll keep my part of the bargain. As always."

"Thank you, milady." The bard stood up, and nodded, his blank green eyes still on the floor. He turned to leave.

"My retainer will guide you on your way out." She snapped her fingers and a young man dropped from the shadows beside her. He landed on his feet, a red scarf trailing from his head. Yellow tinted glasses protected his eyes and he wore no additional armor except for a breast plate depicting a snake strangling an eagle.

"There will be no need." The bard took his instrument, a lute with metal add-ons and strummed it. Taking it by the neck, he pushed it down with a click. The huge doors opened and almost immediately, monsters of the darkness pounced him. Quves, disguises, zombies, hyzolists...but he took one aim at each and each fell, their bodies fading away.

The retainer cringed at the screams of the monsters. His mistress had a collection of the darkest monsters of all Midgard. Most of those guarding the castle were just summoned imitations but these imitations could hurt. The man had probably reached the gates... The dying shrieks of the Isis and mummies had already reached his ears. Those two races guarded the gates of his mistress. The retainer ran to the window and watched the bard disappear into the fog.

"Now that..." purred the woman. "...is impressive." With a wave her hand, shadows shimmered and all the fallen monsters slowly began to regenerate.

She stood from her throne and descended the stone steps, her black cat following. A dark fog hanged and slithered around her knees, also forming shapes and silhouettes of dark and flying monsters. She raised one perfect in front of her and the fog gathered around it, forming into something like a snake. She laughed, thinking of the bard but just as suddenly she scowled and crushed the snake's head, dissipating the frog.

"That alchemist is the source of Lily's pain. How dare refuse he my sister's love!" She clenched her fist and threw a tantrum, sending yellow sparks with every stomp. "Soon, Salamangka Gona, you will feel my wrath. It won't be swift, like the way that Kadilimna finished my monsters. But a lot more drawn out and a lot more painful!"

She threw her head back and shouted at the retainer, forcing him to listen. "Hah! I don't see what my little sister sees in him but he has pushed her away too many times. Mark my words, Elshi, I will do what it takes to have my revenge or my name isn't Lady Xeilisticia Black!" Her laughter echoed through the castle escalating even those of the hissing and groaning of the returned monsters.

Elshi Tekk, thought of Mistress Liss's sister, Lady Lily, his rightful charge. However, Lady Lily abandoned him here in Nifflheim so she could chase after the alchemist. He should be feeling angry, Elshi thought helplessly as the mistress laughed on and on. Instead he felt strange empathy for Devil's Mischief. Being chased by one of the Guardia Mundo is bound to cause trouble. A belated thought struck him and he bowed to the giddy woman spouting farmiliars from her hands.

"Mistress, forgive my insolence but...aren't there two Gonas in that party? Could that possibly mean..."

The white-clad woman grinned evilly. "Yes, Elshi. The renegade clan wiped out by that fire did have just one more survivor. The rightful village leader didn't die and has now succumbed to my darkness. Isn't it ironic that the assassin I've snagged to watch them is none other than Kadilimna Gona?"

The lonely bard continued to trek on through the cold region.

"My son, if you don't survive this woman's purging, a mere test to your true destiny, then surely you don't deserve to live. However, if you do survive..." He loaded his lute again, taking careful aim of the rampaging Gibbet. "You must face me."

Moonlight shone from the window as she snuggled the pillow. He wondered what it would be like to be in the pillow's place and felt the blood rush to his face. Why is it he had flushed more times in the last three months than all of the rest of his life combined? He spied the sleeping form of Eviaren on the floor, his legs propped up on the bed and his arms curled around the sheets. They must've been talking. It was strangely nice, that Mala and Evie got along so unabashedly tight.

"Mala" He repeated that name in his mind. Even if she insisted that Malas was her name, Malachuchi struck him as a better fitting one. But he'll compromise and just call her Mala, if only in his mind.

He easily strode the floor and lifted the little novice to his shoulders. It was such a wonder too that how attached he got to the little ragamuffin. "Or to her", added his treacherous mind. "How easily you've betrayed the one you were…"

He silenced the thought—like he did so many times before.

She had a faint blush on her cheeks, hugging the pillow tighter. Her lips brushing the pillow's side…like a kiss to a lover…

He bent down, gazing at he fair skin…definitely not Moroccan…who was she?

"Don't be too fast with her. She's inexperienced, innocent to the advances of men." Mala had gone ahead with Eviaren, who was tightly holding her hand. She was still a bit disoriented. Zyriel would've stayed by her side but the alchemist had pressing matters to tell him. And whatever concerns her…

"You're saying that a thief could be innocent?" Gareth shook his head as the falcon fell asleep on the crook of his arm.

"I agree with Sala, she doesn't seem to be as cunning as a thief should be." Frey caught the mage's eye, wondering too, at Gareth's seething mood.

"Oh please…she's a thief and she lives in Morocc!" He glared at the stormy-haired boy who was determinedly staring forward.

"Only recently…there's more to her than what it seems…" Here Sala looked straight at him. "Tread carefully…or you'll have me to deal with."

He's not one to take threats but he'd been intending to take Sala's advice anyway. Until later, at the Ice Cream merchant. As Zyriel was licking the apricot-flavored treat, he scoured the area for his insidious companions. They were off, making fun with weaponry.

"Hey, Eviaren, wouldn't you like a nice, big, shiny…arbalest?" Handing it to the novice.

"Careful, Gareth, you wouldn't want to…"

The alchemist let out a sharp, painful yelp.

"Ooops…"

"GAGO!"

While they chased each other round again, where was she? He spotted her near Morocc's gate, watching the colors shift in the sunset. Her eyes were sleepy, her arms wrapped around her body. The desert was an irony, where the days were unbearably hot and nights bitterly cold. He took of his overcoat and slid it on her shoulders. She slightly faced his way, eyelids low and face thoughtful.

"Why do you stare at the desert?" he had whispered.

"What does it take to cross that expanse?" She rasped in a faraway, pain-filled voice, "I have never truly crossed the desert sands and I may never able to do so. I'll be stranded here until my time runs full and death will stake its claim." Her legs gave way but Zyriel caught her.

"The cold is making you weak," he said when nothing else came to him.

She shook her head. "Cold…makes you feel the warmth better." His body was warm…and getting hotter. But she took no more notice as the mage helped her walk.

She was well enough to walk on her own by the time they got to the inn's threshold. She still seemed a bit dazed. He would be too, Zyriel told himself as he pocketed his hands, if he had to deal with a boss monster and biting cold temperature. She should be fine now.

"Uhm…Malas?" She turned, her cheeks rosy from the cold. It was rather ungentlemanly but she didn't seem to need his overcoat anymore. He gestured for it.

"You forgot something."

Oh. She slowly descended the steps. A slow smile filled her lips. She did forget something…What had Sala said—to show affection? She took his face in her hands, his eyes wild with surprise, gave him a little kiss on the cheek.

"Thank you. For everything." She resumed her way up, guided by the rowdy guys' racket. She really was sleepy…

Zyriel's mouth hanged open. After a few moments of vague comprehension he did something he swore would never ever do…

"I LOVE MOROCC!" Frey looked from the window and smiled, having seen that goofy Poring-like grin.

Zyriel bent down and brushed his lips against her cheeks. He spent several more moments watching her, murmured goodnight and silently walked away. The tousled-haired girl clutched the pillow tighter. A single word escaped her lips, one that would've definitely piqued the mage's curiosity...and ill feeling.

He had to tell Frey not to say anything. He had just put Eviaren in the guy's bedroom when he heard shouting from the common room. Zyriel entered the room which attached their rented bedrooms and a bathroom. There were plushy divans and a soft sofa. A rug with white trimmings on the floor and a roaring fireplace with bookstands on top. Frey was still gazing out the window and Sala was making good use of a divan. Cris perched on a coat rack while the hunter was waiting patiently. Quietly. That was never a good sign.

Yellow eyes turned sharply at him…Seems the meeting had now commenced.

And Gareth wasted no time. "She's joining! Hello, why didn't I get the memo?"

"I thought it was quite obvious…" said Sala, bored.

Gareth sent the alchemist a very dirty look and paced the floor and glared at the mage who walked to the sofa.

"Hey! Summoning us a month earlier than planned, dragging us over dangerous terrain so we could meet a girl, I can understand. But asking us that she join us… What the Hell-o! And that kid is joining us too!"

Zyriel clearly remembered…

It was at the grand old tree of their childhood. They had agreed to meet there after a certain reprieve but Zyriel had called them sooner for an important meeting. The mage had silently taken refuge in the tree's branches. Eviaren kept looking to the mage, wondering what was going on.

Frey was the first to arrive, not bringing his peco. He offered a smile of peace then inquisitiveness at the sight of Eviaren. The alchemist followed after scores of minutes, bearing Crisostomo in a messenger bag. Meaning that he was the last to receive the message. Sala peered at Eviaren through his pince-nez and turned to Frey for an explanation. The knight shrugged and said nothing. Finally, the vivacious hunter waved and shouted as he ran them.

"Hey! Looks like I'm the last, so what's the big hubbub…" Gareth stopped at the sight of not three but four people.

"By the bow of my arrows! Zy, you've had a kid and you've never told us!"

"This is not my kid!"

"Yeah, yeah...sure...Just tell me..." The hunter took two leaps forward and slung his arm around Zyriel's shoulder. "Saan, sino at magkano?"

As the only one who could fully understand what the hunter meant, he only did what was proper. He swung his staff and struck him in the head.

"Ohh...pretty colors..." Gareth dropped to the ground, eyes twirling.

"Well everything seems back to normal," commented Sala. "But really, who's the kid?"

"My apprentice."

"Your WHAT?" Sala, Frey and Gareth, shouted in unison.

"You, of all people!" Gareth further exclaimed, forgetting that he was supposed to be unconscious.

"What's his name?" Frey kneeled down to better see the boy. The little novice hid behind the mage's coat. Zyriel looked down on him, thinking of how fate threw them together. A name surfaced to his thoughts, reflecting his mood.

"Eviaren..."

The knight sharply met his gaze as did the alchemist. The hunter was busy doing a head stand. The novice was fascinated by this display and the hunter grinned. He rolled forward into a sitting position.

"Cool. My name's Gareth. From now on I'm gonna be your Kuya, got it?"

"And I'm Kuya Frey Gard. No need to be afraid."

"Kuya Sala. Just a wonder, where'd you get him?"

"I'm telling you, saan, sino at magkano?" Gareth cried victoriously.

Zyriel sent him spiraling to another trip.

"Uh...is he okay?" Eviaren whispered.

"Don't worry... Gareth has a strong, resilient head," Zyriel assured him. He let his attention focus on the others. "There's also something else..."

The hunter sprang up—all ears...

"Lies."

The fuming hunter immediately turned to Sala, then Zyriel, who was looking at the fire. It was neither of them who had spoken. Frey was still staring out the window but slowly faced him.

"You've liked Eviaren since the moment you saw him," Frey said.

"Hold on! I didn't say I hated him!"

"If you could accept Eviaren then why the hostility with Malas on the way back?"

"C'mon! We're Devil's Mischief! We're guys, the inseparable team!" Gareth held out five fingers. "No one has ever joined our sacred ranks."

"Evie did," Sala stated.

"My point is no girl has ever joined the sacred order of Devil's Mischief!" Gareth plopped himself into a cozy sofa tucked in one of the corners of the room.

"No girl has ever wanted to join," the alchemist also pointed out.

"And if ever there come a time that you wanted a girl to join...we'll gladly consider it." Frey smiled as he sat on the arm of Sala's chair. Gareth replied by slumping on the chair and crossing his arms.

"Oh...I get what this is about..." Sala said slyly. Gareth jumped up, and turned at him so fast that the falcon swooped the room, thinking there was an assassin about. Zyriel rose from his pensive mood and barked for order. The bird silently landed on the arm of the hunter's chair.

"It was so obvious, why didn't we see it before?" Sala gave him a grin that Gareth was sure to have patented sometime. "You're jealous!"

"Jealous!"

"Yup. That Zyriel actually got a girl who'd want to join him while you've never have."

This was not what Gareth was expecting but as long as they never really guess the true reason. The falcon perched on his shoulder, copying the hunter's dark gaze.

"Speak for yourself, Sally! Just because Zy and Malas was doing something back there in the room morning, doesn't mean—"

Sala choked on the flask he was drinking while Frey was staring incredulously at Zyriel. Even the falcon cocked its feathery head.

For a moment, the mage's grew face uncontrollably red but subsided as another look replaced it, one of sadness and pain.

"She...she's been stuck here in this city, unafraid to go anywhere else. She was even afraid to venture from her spot here or see what beautiful things you could find even in the hottest city. When I see her..." His voice became a bit lighter. "smile...it's like I'm feeling her happiness too. Like I could give something which I had lost."

Total silence ruled as the fireplace blazed to life, playing with shadows in the room. The hunter walked in the front of it, his profile dark and sketchy. A single tear escaped, no more. All thought about their own losses. A voice came, unlike their own, shouting in incomprehensible words.

"Sala...?" Gareth squeaked.

"Yes?" was the soft reply.

"May I borrow your shoe?" After a tearful moment, asking for a shoe might be considered a bit strange. Nevertheless, he gave it. A brief thanks, Gareth marched to the window, flung it open and with a moment's aim, hurled it outside.

"Oww!" came the strange, dissonant voice.

"SHUT UP!" Gareth slammed the window and leaned on it.

"That was my shoe!"

"It was put to better use than covering your feet." The hunter turned his attention to the mage. "But Zy...what about your...?"

The shadows in the room seemed to lengthen and the fire crackled higher. A dark expression settled on his face. The knight glanced at his companion and at the bedroom door. Sala glared at his cousin then worriedly faced the mage.

"I'll always believe in her, will never stop looking for her but right now—"Zyriel broke off to look at all companions evenly. "I'm asking you, would you let her join?"

The fire subsided and crackled lightly. The knight was first to speak.

"I really like her, Zyriel."

"I agree that it would be rather useful to have a thief in the party," Sala said.

All three looked at Gareth. He sighed and pushed himself from the window. It's up to him now.

"Well...if she could put up with Sally and Zyriel then she's made of hardy stuff. I'm all for it!"

Zyriel broke into an easy smile. "Thank you, you guys."

"I just gotta warn you..." Gareth said as he walked to the center of the room. "That girl is bound to bring trouble."

"If we didn't allow troublemakers then you wouldn't be here." Sala stood up, grinning. So tired, he's going to bed.

"Oooooh...great comeback, just get out of here already. I'm staying up and watch the fire." Everyone said their goodnights. Zyriel approached him and laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Gar, I'd just like to say..." The grip became tighter and in a matter of seconds, he slammed the hunter to the wooden floor. "We didn't do anything this morning. Gago." The mage made sure to step on him. Hard.

Frey smiled as he removed his helm. Hair almost the color of white cascaded down his manteau. "Things are truly back to normal. Sort of..." Zyriel was stepping ahead of him now. "Zyriel, what really happened this morning...?"

"None of your damn business..." And the door shut behind him.

Gareth groaned as he rubbed his arms. Easing into a sitting position, he brushed himself and looked at the fire. He turned his head to the other side, where the thief had a room all to herself...

It was smaller than theirs and there was a window next to the bed. The hunter gazed at the girl who just had dramatically changed their lives. It's not that he didn't like her, because he did. But what if she took away the friendship they've shared for so many years? What if this girl was given more leeway than hi—them? What if the moon was really made out of milk? So many what-ifs were swimming in his mind.

He knelt down and studied her. She was wearing Zyriel's overcoat and cuddling that pillow. It made her look...cute...

"What am I saying?" He violently shook his head then stopped. The girl was talking in her sleep!

"Mat..."

He leaned to better hear. He was flat out puzzled by what he heard... Who the hell was that guy?

Malas woke up without Eviaren beside her. He must've fallen asleep here; he was talking about the fight. Stifling a yawn, she found it to be too hot. She removed the covering, a mage's overcoat. When did she get this? All she remembered yesterday was being knocked out by the big monster and going home with Zyriel...everything else was blurry.

There were voices outside her door. "Evie?"

She tamed her morning hair with a brush on the small table and went to check what the noise was. She clasped the doorknob and opened it slowly. Sala was on his knees, wearing only a sleeveless black undershirt, going through a square backpack and talking fast. Gareth was standing next to him, looking annoyed and chewing on a chocolate bar. Her mouth watered at the sight of chocolate.

"For goodness sake's, Gareth! Look at the stuff here. Don't you ever clean your bag?"

Gareth mumbled something which she couldn't clearly hear but from the sound of it maybe it was better that she didn't.

"What! Young man, clean your mouth with soap right now! Never mind, stay while we go through this mess." His hand reached deep down and began pulling items. "Rotten fruit peels, animal skins, crumpled bar coverings, your bow(?), cotton shirts, a second-hand Bongun hat...and what...A DEAD TAROU!"

"Oh, that's where he went?" Gareth gingerly poked the little thing. Sala was about to give Gareth another scolding when he let out the shrillest scream Malas heard in her life.

The door to the outside was kicked open. Zyriel, with Eviaren peeking behind him, drew his staff as he stepped in. "I heard a female scream! What! What's wrong?"

Sala was on a chair, his shaky finger pointing to the ground. The "dead" tarou was squeaking and nosing the chairs.

"Ratty! You're alive! Come to papa." But as Gareth held out his arms, the mouse-like ball of fluff squeaked and scampered to the opposite direction. It kept hitting furniture head on and going off in desperation until it hit Eviaren's leg. The tarou scampered up the novice's pants, up his shirt and hid inside the bushy brown hair, making it quiver. Zyriel raised an eyebrow at Gareth for an explanation.

"Hey Zy...it's Ratty. He was supposed to be bait so I kept him in my bag but I kinda forgot about him. But since he's alive, can I keep him?"

It didn't even take a heartbeat. "No."

Eviaren took the poor thing into his arms... "Aww...he's so cute! Could I keep him, master Zyriel?"

"Yeah, sure, why not."

"Hey! How come the novice gets to keep him?"

"Shall I remind you of Porry?"

"Uhh..."

"Droppy, Poporingy, Rhoda, Hunter Gareth II, Ishi, Munako, Le Chon?"

Gareth was nervously scratching his head. But Zyriel wasn't done yet. Oh no. He took his hiding clip from his pocket.

"Do you remember how we got this clip?"

That had done it. Tears welled in Gareth's eyes. While the other pets had run away, his smokie was different.

"My poor SMOKIE! WAH! Geez, Zyriel, why did you to remind me!" Gareth sniffed on his sleeve.

"To remind you of a certain lesson. Face it, I'd be doing that Tarou a favor by not letting him touch you."

"And get off that chair, Sala." The alchemist hopped off, looking grim. Zyriel rolled his eyes and spotted Malas by her door.

"Good morning, Frey's taking a bath so you better go after him. Breakfast will be ready in ten, downstairs tavern." He darted out so fast that Malas had to wonder why.

"That was exciting, let's continue packing!" Sala was obviously trying to forget the incident. Gareth whispered something that sounded like "girly man."

"Packing?" Malas looked despondently to the floor. "Are you leaving already?"

"Yeah, this city is too damn hot for me." Gareth wiped the sweat from his forehead. He just noticed that Malas was sweating all over and her clothes clung tighter than ever. So that's why Zyriel ran so fast...heh.

Malas stammered. "Uh...I...well...miss you..."

Sala and Gareth stopped packing while Eviaren froze, letting Ratty get further to escape the "touch of death" a.k.a. Gareth.

The hunter was the first to raise a disdainful eyebrow. "What do you mean...you're coming with us!"

"Me? But...my stuff isn't here." Gareth grinned and tossed a backpack to her.

"It's all here, even if you check it." Malas was still thinking of a reason of why she shouldn't go but honestly couldn't find any. Someone tugged at her pants. Eviaren stared at her piteously with the Tarou on his head.

"Don't you want to join us, ate? Don't you like Zyriel?"

Malas hugged him. "Of course I do..."

"Cool! Now you'll join our party, train hard and become respectable." Eviaren grinned that Poring grin and the thief laughed, remembering her last words to him.

"Make yourself a respectable novice and train hard under this mage, and when you're strong enough, come back and join my party, okay?"

"Malas, your answer...was that for the first question or the second?" Gareth slyly asked.

Fortunately, she was saved of answering by dashing to the bathroom...

A/n: I know that Tarou cannot be made pets in the game. Oh, and Gareth's hair is more of white silver. If you want to see how the characters might look like then click on the links in my profile.

Zhang Kai: Lily's mother is a human but her father's somewhere in the middle of mortals and 'gods'. Strange tidbit: Liss is Lily's half sister and though she looks around 30 years old, she's exactly 98 years older than Lily. More on her and her family later.

For Annika...
In the story, Tagalog, Malay and Japanese were ancient dialects that were forgotten or basically unknown to the common populace. Translations will be here.

Gago- (Tag) derogatory term meaning stupid or jerk. The guys used it in the spirit of fun but Gareth hates it nonetheless. The name stuck when Gareth did something that Sala would never forget or forgive.

Salamangka- (Tag) for magic.

Sala- (Tag) sin or living room.

Guardia- (Tag) Guard

Mundo (Tag)-World

Kailan, sino, magkano- "When, who, how much..." Gareth was implying that Eviaren was the result of Zyriel paying somebody to...uhm, you know.