Yay! 4th chapter! I think this one is longer than last one...which is good, I s'pose. Umm, not much to say about this one. Thanks for the reviews! Please enjoy.

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The Queen of Aquios sighed. She hated sending Nel on all of these missions, but the young, strong hearted warrior was the most capable out of all the warriors in the kingdom.

The peace held between the two kingdoms was fragile at best. Though both parties had agreed to the peace, the kingdom of Aquios could hardly forget the devastation Airyglyph had wrought upon them, attacking the weaker country with thoughts of only how they could benefit. War always brought many casualties on both sides, and this one had been no exception.

One of Nel's subordinates, Farleen, had died tragically, and Queen Romera knew the impact this had made upon Nel. The female warrior had grieved for days, taking full responsibility for Farleen's unpredictable death, as was her nature. It was only a week ago that Nel had made the decision to stop mourning and help the kingdom recover from war.

Aquios was in turmoil, the Queen knew, and she felt helpless that she couldn't do more to help rebuild, but as it was, she hardly had enough time to sleep. It was up to the citizens of Aquios now to save the kingdom. Only by banding together could they clean the rubble and waste that war had left in its wake. Only together could the fields be replanted for the years to come. This winter would be important, since it would decide whether or not Aquios was meant to survive.

Uttering a short prayer to Apris for strength, Queen Romera turned back to her desk, picking up the letter that had been sent by Seishiki, the chief leader of Shinda.

Normally, chief elders rarely revealed their birth names to anyone, but often took on a much shorter name to be addressed by. Seishiki was the chief elder's real name. Romera had known Seishiki since she was little, when her father had been the ruler of Aquios. Although the Queen didn't remember much of that time, she still remembered Seishiki looking as old then as he did now. What his real age was, she couldn't say. Her father had been very fond of Seishiki, finding a wisdom in him that he was unable to find in anyone else. Seishiki, after turning down many offers to become the Royal Advisor for Romera's father, had asked but one thing in return for his wisdom. This one favor that he asked for was to be the leader of his own village. The King had agreed, knowing that Seishiki would keep true to his word and offer aid to the royal family through his guidance and wisdom. Even to this day, Seishiki was still a close friend of Romera's, and often did give her advice.

The Queen frowned and reread the letter that Seishiki had sent her, a cold wind creeping into the room.

"My dearest Romera,

This letter is of the utmost importance. Read my words carefully before you decide on what course of action to take, for the choice is ultimately yours. I shall, however, counsel you as I see fit.

Yesterday morning, two travelers who had been staying with us until recently left our village on the strangest of terms. One, with bright blue hair, was very pleasant and talked amongst my villagers peacefully. The other, however, was fiery of temper. He also had a claw for one hand and blood red eyes that made my spine tingle. I'm sorry, Romera, that I did not catch their names, but I paid little attention to them until the last few nights that they were with us, as you'll soon see why.

They came to us on peaceful terms, claiming to seek knowledge from our village shamans. This has happened before, so my village naturally accepted them with open arms and open minds.

Each night, the tall one, the one I mentioned before who had the claw, held discussions with each shaman. Strangely enough, he didn't ask the shamans to meet him all together at once, but rather spoke with a different shaman every night. Though this was strange at the time, it will soon become clear to you, as it did for me.

As the days passed, the shamans began to come to me, one by one, telling me vague and disturbing visions that they had been experiencing. They also told me in pieces what the clawed traveler had discussed with them. The more they told me, the more I was able to piece together what had actually taken place in my peaceful village. I will impart to you these details, Romera, no matter how gruesome or violent, for I fear they are very important.

As each shaman came to me, they told me about their visions, as I have above mentioned. Some were random glimpses of bloodshed or war, but the most poignant one was told to me by Zenri, one of our younger shamans. Zenri described to me our village as it is now, next describing your fair city of Aquios. He then described Airyglyph in perfect detail, though I am quite certain that the young man hasn't been there in his life span. As I watched Zenri describe to me these visions with his eyes closed, he started to fall into a trance. His face changed suddenly, his eyebrows creasing and his teeth clenching together, almost making it impossible for me to understand him. His voice changed as well, seemingly filled with agony, humility, and pain, almost as if he were being tortured by some unseen demon's hands! I almost shook him out of his trance-like state, but fear stayed my hands. This shaman was next describing nothingness, in its black entirety. He was describing the vastness of it, the complete and utter darkness of it. He was describing emotions: hatred, sorrow, confusion, his voice changing to fit the emotion.

Zenri then collapsed after describing what I've recounted to you, for you, above. He hasn't wakened from his slumber, yet, and some fear the worst.

After Zenri collapsed, all of the other shamans came rushing to me, more zealous to tell me what they would than before after seeing what happened to Zenri. Each shaman told me what they had discussed with this foreigner. A clever trick this man had played on us! By gong to each shaman individually, he had extracted legends from us, legends that were about the King of the Dead. This insidious man has learned practically everything about the King, from how to find him to the actual summoning spell.

Yes, this man was most meticulous in his work, but there is still hope, Romera. Most of the shamans have said that this outsider scoffed at the legends, which leads us to believe that perhaps he doesn't believe everything he has learned. Let me assure you now, however, that it is all true. There is a King of the Dead and he can be summoned, but to open the very gates of Hell would be a fool's errand. Let me also tell you, that if the gates of Hell were opened, that the results would be devastating. I believe that the vision Zenri had pertains to the opening of the black gates. I believe that if the gates of Hell were opened, then there would be nothing left.

I shall skip now to one night before the foreigners left. Apparently, the tall, clawed one was restless that night, for he started wandering around the village. The villagers avoided him since I had warned them to stay away from this unpredictable man. I still wasn't sure what this man's intention was. You know I try to see the good in people, but with this man, it felt as if there was no good in him to be seen. So, back to the night before they leave. The blue haired traveler is asleep in his hut while the other is prowling the night. Some of the shamans, including our chief shaman, had been discussing the course of action that they should take regarding our strange friend, when he overheard their discussion. Reports from the shamans told me that the tall foreigner had gone into a rage, slicing our chief shaman with both sword and claws. They told me that it had taken the rest of them, four all together, just to pull the infuriated man off of the chief shaman. After they succeeded in getting the traveler off of the bleeding shaman, they said that the foreigner had just walked off as if nothing had happened.

The next few hours flew by in a daze. I was telling my village warriors to arm themselves and to keep a watch over the tall foreigner, after which I was busy trying to stabilize our chief shaman's condition.

Everything was just starting to calm down when, at four in the morning, shouts could be heard from the village. I would learn later that the tall stranger had confronted the warriors that I had stationed outside his hut, intent on killing them, when his blue haired companion stopped the blood shed from happening. For this I am eternally grateful, for I don't know if my warriors could have stood up to that seemingly possessed man.

The warriors brought me a bag which had belonged to one of the travelers. I searched the contents of said bag, of this I am ashamed to admit, and found to my surprise a strange knife. It had engravings on it of which I've never seen. The tip of the knife was curled, almost doubling back upon itself. The hilt of the small dagger was made of a black stone, perhaps onyx. I didn't have long to examine it, however, before a villager came to tell me that the two foreigners were making their way back to the village. I quickly stuffed the knife back in the sack and waited for them to return.

The bag had belonged to the tall foreigner, who was in no way asking for it back. Oddly enough, it was his blue haired companion that was being very polite, and who was asking for it back. Of course, I gave it back to them. It was the tall one's property, though I would have sooner fed it to the flames then give it back to him. However, you probably well know that I am not one to indulge myself in sudden desires, so I let the idea of throwing the bag into a pit of flames fade from my mind.

After warning him of the dangers he was facing if he dared to disturb the Dead, they left. I don't think he will listen to me. I, actually, highly doubt that he will. That's why I am asking for your help, Romera. Please, I beg of you, send some soldiers to stop this madman before he opens the very gates of Hell. I don't know his purpose in all of this, but he must be stopped.

Your faithful servant,

Seishiki"

Romera put a hand to her head and leaned back into her thick, wooden chair. She had hoped that, since Nel had known and traveled with Fayt and Albel before, that perhaps she alone could stop them. Maybe she had been wrong…

"No." Romera muttered sternly to herself, knowing that she couldn't start doubting herself now. Nel see to it that everything was taken care of.

"Nisen?" The Queen said softly, knowing that the nearby servant would hear.

"Yes, your majesty?" The young girl asked, curtseying as she came through the doorway.

"Please, take this to Lady Nel and tell her that it would be wise for her to read it." Romera said, handing the note that Seishiki had written her to the young servant.

"Yes, your majesty." Nisen said politely, daintily taking the piece of parchment from the Queen's outstretched hand.

Once Nisen had left, Romera stretched across her desk to pick up another letter. The Queen of Aquios raggedly tore open one end of the letter, knowing that she couldn't dwell on one matter for too long. After all, the kingdom was in dire need of its Queen.

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Fayt stretched, his hands in the air, and yawned loudly. He had been getting less and less sleep since they had left the last village. And what was worse was…Albel was starting to notice. The younger boy was growing less and less comfortable around his cold comrade, not being able to look Albel in the eyes, and finding from time to time, to his utter shock, that he had been staring at the older man. One time, when Fayt had realized that he had been staring at Albel, the blue haired boy had snapped his head up to see Albel staring back at him, one eyebrow raised, with a crooked smirk on his face. Needless to say, that encounter had ended up with Fayt floundering to find an answer for his strange behavior while Albel chuckled softly, finding the whole scenario quite amusing. Fayt would sometimes wake up in the middle of the night and, being cold and sometimes wet if it had rained, would think about crawling over to sleep next to Albel. On nights when Fayt had been particularly tired, he had actually started to make his way over to the man sleeping next to him, until he would fully wake up and crawl, dazed, back to his own sleeping bag.

Fayt snuck a quick glance at the lanky swordsman to his right, noticing in the bright sun of day how nice Albel's body was. The former Airyglyph captain's body was perfectly muscled to fit his frame. Fayt's eyes drifted down to Albel's legs, which were long, giving him a larger stride than Fayt. The blue haired teenager looked back up, following the long slit in the swordsman's strange skirt, to the small portion of bare thigh that showed through.

"What am I doing!" Fayt thought to himself, stopping abruptly and tearing his gaze away from Albel. The older swordsman had stopped walking as well when he saw the teenager stop, and now stood staring inquisitively at the young boy. "Oh great…" Fayt sighed, closing his eyes. One more thing to explain to Abel the Wicked.

"Uhh…I, um…" Fayt started, opening his eyes and turning to look at the swordsman. Albel, however, was already standing in front of Fayt. Standing very closely in front of Fayt.

"A…Albel? What are you…?" Fayt asked, his eyes widening as he tried to back away from his red eyed companion.

"Be quiet, fool." Albel jeered, taking the Crimson Scourge out of its sheath. "You have been all but useless to me these past few weeks. You're 'excuse' is that you haven't been getting enough sleep. Listen, Leingod, I don't care what it takes, but you had better 'get some sleep' because I am tired of you being useless. You traveling with me is growing redundant." At this Fayt blushed, because he thought he knew the one way he might be able to fall asleep, which was wrapped securely in the arms of his fiery tempered comrade. Albel was about to say more, but stopped when he saw the strange expression on Fayt's face. The blue haired boy quickly recovered, erasing any previous emotion that was running through his mind and put on a mask of indifference, staring straight back at Albel. The older man smirked as he saw Fayt's attempt to recover. The teenager's endeavor to compose himself hadn't worked, however, because the damage had been done. The clever swordsman had had growing suspicions for the past few days, and this small act confirmed it.

"Ahh." Albel all but whispered, pointing the Crimson Scourge at Fayt's dainty throat, "I see, now." Albel hooked the large, circular zipper of Fayt's vest onto the point of his sword. "This could turn out to be quite interesting, maggot." Achingly slow, Albel started to draw the zipper of Fayt's vest down, exposing a little more of the blue haired teenagers skin with each centimeter. Once Fayt's vest was open enough to reveal most of his chest, Albel took his sword and pointed it back to Fayt's throat, making a small cut, which was shallow, but sufficient to draw blood. Fayt inhaled quickly, making the other man grin wickedly. Taking his thumb, Albel pressed it to the small wound. "Get some sleep, worm." Albel whispered almost seductively, leaning in so that his body was only an inch from Fayt's. Looking down at his small, green eyed companion, Albel smirked mockingly. The swordsman then withdrew his thumb from the cut he had made on Fayt's neck, a small drop of blood lingering on his fingertip. Fayt watched, mouth agape, as the older man put his thumb to his lips, licking away the small amount of blood that had been there. Once the swordsman was done with this strange gesture, he smirked once more, a strange look reflecting in his blood red eyes.

"Come, fool. We're wasting daylight." Albel said in the same mocking tone he always used. Fayt stood, seemingly frozen, and simply watched as the older man turned his back on the teenager. Suddenly, unexpectedly, fatigue spread throughout Fayt's body, making the small boy swoon, tipping back and forth. Heavy lidded, Fayt fell to the ground, falling asleep almost instantly from the small amount of comfort Fayt had felt from just being close to Albel's warm body.

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"Honestly, maggot, when I said 'get some sleep' I didn't mean right now." Albel muttered to himself, staring back to the prone form of the teenager curled up on the ground. "It's a miracle that he didn't gut himself on his sword…er, I mean, a pity." Albel mumbled, shaking his head, the dark locks that were tipped with blonde swinging slightly. Although he didn't like to admit it, something had changed in the cold swordsman. Albel wasn't quite sure what this was yet, but there was a difference in the way he acted towards Fayt, in particular. The former Captain was finding it harder and harder to stay angry at his smaller comrade, and finding it more difficult to even find a reason to be angry with Fayt. Although Albel still acted cynical, cold-hearted, and sadistic towards his blue haired companion, there was always something in the back of his mind that reacted quite negatively when he did so. Albel usually ignored this 'thing', however.

Sighing roughly, Albel walked over to Fayt, contemplating whether or not to kick him awake. Deciding against it, since the young boy was of more use to him awake than half dead on his feet, Albel dropped his sack on the ground next to Fayt.

Standing over the boy's body, Albel stared at the strange way Fayt was arranged. Since the blue haired boy had still had his backpack on when he had fallen, his back was at a strange angle. Albel thought for a moment that maybe Fayt had snapped his spine, so strange was the angle. No such luck, however, when Albel noticed the teenager's steady, rhythmic breathing. Fayt was fast asleep.

Albel decided that in no way could the position in which Fayt slept be comfortable. The swordsman bent over teenager's body, grabbing one of the backpack's straps.

"Wait…" Albel thought to himself as he realized that he was going to remove Fayt's backpack so that his companion might sleep more comfortably. "Why do I care whether or not Fayt is comfortable?" Albel started to take his hand away, but something made him hesitate. "Oh, what the hell." Albel thought, then continued to get the thick strap off of the boy's shoulder.

Once Fayt's backpack was off, without the teenager waking up, Albel tossed the accursed thing aside. Albel sat down on the ground next to Fayt, staring idly at the sleeping embodiment of destruction. Fayt's vest was still unzipped, but Albel didn't notice this. Instead, he turned back to his sack and took out a short dagger.

Turning the dagger over in his hands, the swordsman unsheathed it. It had a handle made of onyx, which was a very strong, dark stone that had some white lines running through it, shining in stark, brilliant contrast to the black. The blade itself didn't have any perceivable blemish on it, and it had proved strong when Albel had…tested it on some poor prisoner's arm, back in Airyglyph. The blade was also very thin, which added to the surprising quality of how strong it was. Sheathing the short knife once more, Albel tucked it safely away into his sack. He would need it to be in perfect condition for later.

A small rustle surprised the cruel swordsman out of his contemplations. Instinctively reaching for the Crimson Scourge which lay nearby, Albel eased himself off of the ground. He stood, his ears tuned to the cluster of underbrush ahead. The war-hardened Captain saw slight movements, then saw a figure emerge from the burly undergrowth. Straining to see, for the sun was shining directly in his eyes, Albel slowly brought his hand to the hilt of the Crimson Scourge.

"It's nice to see you too, Albel." A rich, womanly voice floated across the ten feet that was between the swordsman and his foe, making Albel cringe in recognition. Nel.

"Oh, it's only you, worm. I was hoping for a challenge." Albel hissed, dropping his guard. The red haired woman sauntered over to stand in front of Albel, her hands on her hips.

Albel and Nel had been enemies during the war between Airyglyph and Aquios, Albel the Captain of the Black Brigade that served under Airyglyph's rule, and Nel, Queen Romera's most trusted warrior. The first time they had been forced to cooperate together was when the King of Airyglyph had ordered Albel to help Fayt and his group tame the Marquis, which was the largest Air Dragon known to this planet. Grudgingly, the two enemies fought together, neither one enjoying the other's company. Afterwards, Nel had stayed in Aquios while Albel had continued to travel with Fayt. Although they did meet up with the red haired woman later on in their travels, this was the first time Albel had seen Nel since he helped save the galaxy. Resting his wrist on the hilt of his sword, Albel glared at the young woman.

"Well? What do you want, maggot?" Albel sneered, shaking a stray lock of hair out of his face.

"The Queen has sent me on a mission. Where's Fayt? I had heard that you have been traveling with him…" Nel began, directly dodging the swordsman's question. Although the young woman had only been with Albel for a short time, she still knew that when Albel heard what she intended to say, he wouldn't hesitate to lop off a few heads. Having Fayt around would help cool the brash man's temper, or if not, at least there would be another one to die along with her. Nel smiled knowingly at Albel.

"You're avoiding my question, worm." Albel growled. The red haired warrior saw Albel tense, and quickly looked behind him for a distraction…anything to stop the man from getting out of control. What she saw, however, surprised her.

"Is that Fayt on the ground?" Nel asked, seeing the body a few feet away from where she was standing. Albel flinched.

"The stupid fool fainted. Apparently he doesn't know how to take care of himself." Albel scoffed, attempting to sound stand-offish. Nel slipped around Albel to kneel next to the young boy, putting a hand to his forehead.

"Are you sure he isn't sick? Fayt doesn't seem like the type of person to faint easily…" the red haired woman asked, looking back up to Albel and taking her hand off of the teenager's forehead. Albel shrugged dismissively and stood on the other side of Fayt, the swordsman's shadow falling over the teenager's prone form.

Looking back down, Nel arched an eyebrow when she saw that Fayt's vest had been unzipped. Quickly zipping it back up, Nel looked once again to Albel, the tall man standing with his arms crossed loosely, staring down with cruel eyes at the kneeling woman.

"Why is Fayt's…" Nel started, but stopped when she saw the swordsman grin wickedly, his eyes squinting and reflecting the morning light. Shaking her head and sighing, Nel stood back up.

"Nevermind." She said, reaching into a small pouch that she kept around her waist. Taking out a small vial of liquid, the red haired woman bent back over Fayt, pouring its contents down the teenager's throat. Standing once more, Nel nodded to the swordsman, who was watching with some curiosity.

"He should awaken in a few hours. I'll be back to speak with both of you, so don't go running off, Albel."

"Bah." Albel said, glaring over his shoulder as the red haired woman left. How he hated that Aquarian wench. Looking back down to Fayt, Albel wondered whether or not Nel had fed the teenager poison, half hoping that she had. It would solve most of his problems. Turning around, the cruel warrior walked to the nearest tree and sat down in front of it, leaning his back up against its sturdy trunk. Taking the small dagger back out of his sack, Albel unsheathed it and stared into the shining metal, seeing a reflection of himself.

"What does that maggot want?" Albel thought, running his thumb across the small knife, "Surely he isn't actually…attracted to me. He couldn't be. I've been cruel to him, so why…?" Albel closed his eyes and leaned his head back to rest against the bark, "Even if he is attracted to me, the feeling is one sided. Still…it is amusing to toy with his emotions…" The wicked man thought, smiling viciously as he remembered the look on Fayt's face when he had stood so closely to the teenager. "Why am I like this?" Albel's eyes snapped open as he recognized the small, doubting voice that was buried so deeply into the arrogant man's subconscious. "Why do I have to be like this? Why do I always act so cruelly to others? I hate myself." Albel sneered. Putting the small knife on the ground, Albel rolled up the tight purple sleeve on his right arm. Taking the knife in his clawed hand, Albel swiftly lifted it and drove it deeply into the flesh on his right arm; all thoughts vanishing from his mind save for one: pain. Grimacing slightly, Albel watched as the blood spilled out of the fresh cut. Yanking the knife back out of his arm, the swordsman watched as the red blood dripped into the bright green grass. The blood was the same color of the swordsman's eyes as he stared in fascination at the color contrast of red on green.

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That was a difficult chapter to write. Excuse me while I go find more inspiration.

(A/N: As for the Farleen thing...come on, you know you wanted her dead. Or at least her voice box ripped out...)