Before Silver could react, his father leapt forward, taking advantage of his state of shock. He then delivered a hard blow to his stomach, sending him hunched forward, his father still holding him up with his right arm. He leaned down to his ear. "As we speak, a powerful force from San d'Oria rides to overtake Windurst. If Windurst does not receive aid, the Elvaans will succeed."

Silver shoved himself backward to his feet, dagger in hand. "Why are you telling me this?" He asked, his eyes narrowed.

"I do not wish to see Vanad'iel enslaved by one powerful nation. If San d'Oria is successful, Vana'diel will fall into an age of dispair and turmoil." He said in all seriousness, standing before his son, tall and proud. He swiftly returned to the subject at hand. "If you are able to aid Windurst, you could possibly gain their trust in the war. If this happens, Bastok would have a fighting chance. This nation could survive."

Silver turned around, unable to look at his father any longer. His face brought back far too many memories that were too painful to take all at once. He cleared his throat. "Why are you giving me this information? And further more, how were you able to find me?" There was a long pause. "Father?" He turned around, only to find that he had disappeared.

----

Dakan leaned forward, cradling his head in his hands. Jaques had disappeared, and Ephraim had gone to overthrow an innocent nation. He knew he should not confront the king, but something in his heart told him not to. Something told him that doing so would deliver great consequence, but he had to. He had to try and stop him.

The twin doors of the King's throne room slowly swung open as two Dragoon guards allowed the Paladin in, giving a curt nod as he entered. The King smiled upon his presence. "Ah, White Knight Dakan. So good to see you." Dakan remained silent, only bowed, and nodded in response. "Is there something I can assist you with, Sir Dakan?"

The Paladin cleared his throat. "Yes, my Lord." He replied, staring into his eyes. "I have recently become aware of your plans for Windurst."

The king's eyebrows slanted in curiosity. "Yes?" He replied. "And?"

"And, my Lord, with all due respect, I implore you to reconsider the fate of our sister nation. They have done no wrong, yet we plan to dominate them?"

"You dare to question my logic?" The Elvaan King roared, standing from his throne. "That is not your call to make, Sir Dakan. I am appalled that you would make such an inappropriate statement in my presence!"

Dakan's heart began to beat faster in his chest. "Forgive me, my Lord. But I still do not agree. Windurst has done nothing to deserve the fate that we are about to place on them!"

"Enough!" He roared, throwing his grail to the side, sending it clanging to the side. "Another word, and I'll strip you of your honors and hold you prisoner!"

Dakan's eyes were mere slits. "You are the one who is being held prisoner in your own kingdom! Ephraim is changing you, and you can't even see it!" He exclaimed, ripping his medal of honor from his armor and throwing it to the king's feet. "I refuse to fight for a kingdom that shoves around her sister nations!" Suddenly, it all made sence. All of those years ago, his father had laid down his life to make a point to the king. He had turned into his father, only now, his father was not the enemy. He now saw that his father was correct, that he had stood by and watched him die all because he was too young to see past the lies that the king and his advisors had told. He had betrayed his father, in every sense of the word.

"Guards!" Immediately, the two dragoon knights rushed forward, pole arms in hand. Dakan drew his sword and shield and assumed a defensive stance, watching both carefully. The first lunged forward, but Dakan easily deflected his blow by thrusting his shield forward. While the Dragoon was struck with surprise, Dakan jabbed him in the stomach, dropping him instantly. He looked up to see the other Dragoon, however, now he was joined by many others. He was outnumbered, and before he could do anything, they had surrounded him. A blow to the back of the head sent him to his knees. He closed his eyes, knowing the advent fate that awaited him. He held his breath.

The sound of blade torn flesh took him off guard. The guards seemed to now be surrounding some person, obviously very small. The guards, however, were being cut down like blades of grass, one after another. Their pole arms waved in the air as cries of pain filled the room, through he still could not see the cause of it all. As the guards continued their assault, a small figure leapt from the mass of bodies, directly in front of Dakan.

He was a Tarutaru, only around three feet tall, dressed in old and worn battle armor and equipped with a bloodied katana. His gaze met Dakan's. "I suggest you follow me." He stated, turning back to the guards, clearing a path out of the room. Dakan followed, deflecting whatever pole arms that were thrown his way. The two began running through the castle, the Taru occasionally taking down a guard with a simple twist of his body in midair. His agility was amazingly smooth and graceful, something he had never seen in a Samurai before. However, this seemed to be the only way out of this place, so he followed. The two ran the streets of San d'Oria as the war raged outside the city walls. The sounds of war cries was disturbing, however, familiar to both. The two rushed to the Chocobo stables, and luckily, the large yellow birds were still in their stables.

They took a swift route through North Ronfaure, avoiding the battle as much as possible, and then made their way into the La Theine Plateau, where they were able to finally relax. Side by side, they rode. Dakan turned to the Samurai. "Who are you?" He asked.

"I am Hicks, a soldier of Bastok."

Dakan's heart began to pound. "You're the enemy?" He asked, surprised.

Hicks's cold gaze met his. "Only if you make me." The two stared at each other for a moment, then turned back to the road they followed. "You are not like the rest. You do not deal in absolutes, as your high and mighty elvaan bretheren do." Dakan was honored, but said nothing. "In fact, unlike the rest, you saw the truth in your king's actions. You saw the change in him, when the others did not. For that, I wish to recruit you, now that you seem to be unemployed."

"Recruit me? You mean, change my allegiance to Bastok?" He asked, turning to Hicks. "But, why? Bastok is the cause of this war. Why would I want to join them?"

"We don't have the damn pearl, Elvaan." Hicks hissed hatefully. "The war began when you marched onto Bastokan soil and attacked us without warning. That, my friend, is when we acted. Your king is…under some sort of spell. I have met your king. I have studied him, and his beliefs. He is not himself, and I trust you have noticed this as well."

"How do you know so much?"

"How I know of such things is of no importance. The fact that I do know, however, is." His words began to sink into the Paladin's mind. He knew he was right. He knew that the King's actions had turned San d'Oria into a dictatorship. However, he also knew who was pulling his strings. "Now, will you join us to end this pathetic war?"

Dakan took a deep breath, exhaled. "I love my country. I was born and raised there, and she has taken very good care of me." He paused, and the face of the San d'Orian king filled his mind. He had learned to hate that face. It was a face of anger, and of hate. He could remember a day when he had cared about the country he ruled, however, that day had passed. He had turned into something far more sinister now, and all because of Ephraim. "However, I cannot stand by and watch her turn into a dictatorship. I cannot, and will not. Therefore, for the time being, I shall aid you." He thought about what he said. He felt like he was somehow defecting, but he knew that the standards of San d'Oria were not what they once were. He knew that his country could be saved, but it would first have to fall. "Yes, I shall join you.."

----

Marrulus leaned back in his chair, deep in thought. Before him, Silver nervously looked onward. Finally, the president spoke. "This is a huge hunch. A very, very huge hunch. What if this 'father' of yours was a spy? What if he's trying to lead you out of Bastok to get to me?"

Silver cleared his throat out of nervousness. "Yes, sir. It is a very large hunch, but my instinct tells me that we could use the aid of Windurst. We would stand a fighting chance. If San d'Oira overthrows them, we will fall almost indefinitely."

The president continued to contemplate. "Very well. It is not as if the Black Musketeers are much of a secret anymore… You all showed your faces during the sneak attack. The threat of being known is no longer of concern, now that Bastok is to her knees." He paused. "Two of the Black Musketeers may go, however, two will stay behind." Silver Tear smiled, satisfied. "Thank you, sir. Maccabee and I shall proceed to Windurst, while Rini and Kraig will stay." Feeling satisfied, he began to prepare for the trip.

----

High atop Heaven's Tower, an elderly mithran meditated in peace as the cool air softly caressed her face. Her name was Adaj Tanathulum, and she was the leader of the ancient federation of Windurst. Leading the magical land with an iron fist, yet a sensitive heart, she blessed all who came in contact with her with a feeling of security that would soothe the troubled heart of any person who sought out her guidance. Highly trusted by her followers, she continued to reign over Windurst after serving as her leader for over forty years.

"Milady," Adaj's personal mithran handmaiden quietly spoke as she approached her leader. "A rrrepresentative from the nation of Bastok has arrrrrived. May I bid him audience, milady?"

Lady Adaj's eyes slowly opened, her back turned to her handmaiden. "Yes, my dear. Please, send them both." This display of foresight was no surprise to the handmaiden. Lady Adaj was a firm believer of the spirits, and due to this nature of faith, the heavens had blessed her with this great gift. The handmaiden bowed, then exited the roof. Moments later, a dark green cloaked figure approached, Maccabee alongside him. "Please, gentlemen. Have a seat."

The two nodded, and sat upon the ground, and Silver began to speak. "Lady Adaj, I come to bring you news of a great-"

"Danger that threatens the very foundations of the Federation of Windurst." Silver was taken by surprise. The elderly mithra chuckled. "You have been practicing this speech, have you not, child?"

Silver ducked his head in shame. "Yes, milady."

"I truly appreciate you concern, child. Bastok is a good, honest nation, and sense no evil coming from its pulse. For that reason, I find it very easy to trust you." The mithra rose, and turned around to face her guests. "However, I have seen what is in store for Windurst." Silver seemed to be confused. "This nation shall fall today."

"No, not if we have anything to say about it." Said Silver, taken by surprise. "We can bring reinforcements from the frontline to assist us. I am a master of sneaking, and my friend here can summon any-"

Adaj began to laugh. "My child, do not act so surprised. The spirits do not lie…but do not take my word for it. See for yourselves." She walked over towards both men. "Close your eyes, and relax your body. Clear your mind of thought, listen only to my voice." Both men followed her instructions, and seeing that they were both relaxed, she continued. "Now, focus your attention on Windurst, as a whole. Picture her sight from afar, try to imagine her citizens rustling about the busy streets…" Silver began to break into a sweat, and Maccabee wore a nervous frown.

"I…I feel…uneasy…" Said Maccabee. "My heart is racing…I…I'm shaking…" He stated, breathing heavily.

"Yes…I feel it as well." He opened his eyes. "Milady, what is this? What is this feeling?"

The mithra walked past both men. "This, my children, is the taint of death. You are feeling the presence of an impending death." She paused. "Whatever fate is to come upon Windurst will surely destroy her. It cannot be stopped; it would be futile to risk our soldier's lifes to an empty cause."

"Then we should evacuate the city!" Said Maccabee. "We could transport Windurst's citizens to Bastok, then we could-"

"No, Mac." Silver said, cutting his companion off. "The San d'Orians would follow, and then many innocent people would die before we even made it to Bastok."

"You are correct, my child. I shall remain here, with my people, and with my country." As she said this, she smiled.

"Milady?" Said Silver, confused at what was so good about this.

"Child, I have served as leader of this great nation for over four decades. I am honored to have ruled over Windurst for this long, and if my life ends today, I will be more than satisfied with what I have accomplished in my seventy-three years of life." Her smile grew. "And if Windurst falls, she will return someday. Windurst is filled with a spirit that cannot be broken by any war. I am not worried of my nation's future, and neither should you."

Silver, although saddened by this fact, understood. Something suddenly struck him. "Milady, can I ask you something?"

She smiled. "Why, of course, child."

"What is in store for me in this war?"

A deep silence overtook all three individuals. Slowly, she walked over to Silver, sat directly in front of him, and placed her hands on his shoulders. Closing her eyes, she meditated. Suddenly, she leaned back, with a frown. "Oh, my…" She stated, looking deep into his eyes. "You must leave, immediately."

"Milady, why?" Silver asked, rising from his sitting position.

"Please, do not ask. You must leave at once; run to the frontline. Aid your country, for it shall need your help. Please, do as I say." She asked him, compassion in her eyes. Confused, Silver nodded.

"Yes, Milady." Said Silver, confused. "I don't understand, but I know you must have your reasons. We will leave immediately." She nodded as both men left, and she walked to the balcony of the roof, gazing at the nation below. "May the spirits protect you, Silver Tear. You must stay strong…"

----

A black chariot raced through West Sarutarubuta, powered by four harnessed Chocobo with horned metal helmets. Within the chariot sat Dark Knight Ephraim, her legs crossed politely. Directly in front of her, on each side, was a San d'Orian guard armed with a sword and shield. Smiling, she rose. "Pardon me, gentlemen."

She stood outside the chariot, near the soldier controlling the Chocobos, and reached in her back pouch to retrieve a small, glowing black pearl with a slit in the middle, giving it the appearance to be an eye. With a sinister laugh, she held the pearl high as her transparent wings spread themselves out. Her eyes lost all pigment, and became white. Her incisors became razor sharp, and her nails became long, pointed claws. As her laugh echoed, the pearl's glow began to pulse, slow at first, and slowly gaining speed, until it stopped completely.

The first guard inside the chariot seemed to be distracted by something. He shoved the other on the arm. "Hey. You hear something?"

The second soldier turned. "Yeah. That sounds like the…"

"Frontline?" He got up and took a peek outside, then immediately ran back inside the chariot, shivering.

"What? What is it?" She second soldier began shaking his companion, but he was deep in shock. All he could do was point to the door. Slowly, shaking, the second guard opened the door. The sunlight beamed in, blurring his vision as he looked out. The noise grew even louder. The noise of men, roaring out in battle cries to their enemy. As he shielded his eyes from the sun, he looked about, and gasped. Around the chariot marched soldiers by the thousands, with their swords, lances, and axes held high as they raced towards Windurst. However, these soldiers were different.

They were bones, animated by magic.