Shade: **Dressed in an overly long black robe and brandishing her mallet**
I AM THE DEATH OF TICKS!
Garren: **dragging a sack of Terry Pratchett books out of Shade's room** We're going to be YOUR death soon if you don't clean your room! We started cleaning last week, and we've only just managed to clear a path to the bed!
Shade: Good job. Did you find my Galerian colony?
Garren: **trying to picture a colony of PPEC injected psychic lab rats all fitting under Shade's midget sized bed** Oh for the love of Soa-
@_@; Major time warp zone. In two or three chapters, I just jumped from about two hundred and sixty years or so after the game's timeline to about 720 years after. Did you guys honestly expect me to go through every Moon Child? Oi. Repetition. It wears even on MY easily entertained nerves, and I know you guys have higher standards than that. ^-^ And so we stop the time machine in what would be the year of the appearance of the 7th Kiddo. Because I want to get through part one sometime this summer, hopefully.
Dart's POV:
It was raining.
Usually I enjoy the rain, but today all that it served to do was to worsen my already bad mood. There are things in this world that cause a man to feel his age more acutely on some days than others, but I think that waking up and realizing that you can't remember your own birthday just about tops them all off. Ragnarok could remember, but the fact that I had missed my 751st birthday by several months was rather disconcerting. Almost as much as my actual age. And so I'd spent the rest of the morning slouching about Ulara staring gloomily out the carved stone windows at the grey sky.
//You're being stupid about this, you know// Ragnarok told me. //Years don't mean anything//
/Not to you/ I replied sullenly, /But then again, you were meant to live forever. If humans are really lucky, they get to hang around for about seventy or so years before they kick the bucket/
//They? You mean to say that you're not one of 'them'?// Ark actually sounded amused at this observation.
/Look, I'm 751, a dragoon, have a stone for a heart, and share my body with the lord of dragons who, may I add, has been kicking around since the world was created and never really planned on dying in the first place. What do you think?/
//I never thought of it that way// Ark admitted. //That does sort of alienate you, doesn't it?//
/Just a bit/ I turned my eyes back to the downpour outside. A cold wind whipped through the trees below, stirring the leaves into a frenzy. /If the weather's any indication, I'm not the only one who's feeling out of sorts. I wonder what's up with Charle? She never lets the storms get like this unless something's bothering her/
//She's edgy. The year's almost over, and still no sign of the child's birth//
/Damn. She probably wouldn't let us leave until the Moon changes over then, huh?/
//What makes you think that? She might not like it, but about all she'll do is invent a new, slightly less flattering nickname for you. It's not like anything's keeping us here//
/No, not really/ I sighed and left my window. /It might be easier to find the Moon Child that way, actually/
It didn't take long to gather my things. As a rule I had never carried much in the way of equipment aside from my sword, but I usually tried to keep a full stock when it came to items. You can live without a tent, you can live without a blanket, but you can't live with severe blood loss and nothing to heal it. That was one of the first things I had learned when I'd first set out on my hunt for the Black Monster.
Boy, had things come a long way since then. In more ways than one.
When I had finished storing the last of my gear into the large interior pockets of my overcoat, I belted on my sword and stepped onto the warp pad that would take me to the walkways just outside of the quarters. The newer rooms had doors and hallways rather than the portals, which were powered by the amassed power of the winglies themselves in Ulara. The cutback had been in an effort to slow the gradual decline of their power, or so Charle had said. Even though it was never mentioned, I could tell that she had begun to worry about that particular problem. The spell of timelessness around Ulara would only last as long as there were enough winglies to power it. The day would eventually come when the spell would end, and the lives of Ulara's inhabitants would pick up where they left off, unless-
//Forget it// Ragnarok stated flatly as I stepped out into the rain. //They found a source of power once, and if they really want to they can find one again. I'll maintain the spell on the choker if need be, but there's no way that I'm going to try to maintain a whole city//
"Dart?"
I turned. Garren stood on the walkway a short distance behind me, a confused look on his pale features. "Where are you going? The Moon hasn't turned red yet."
"I'm starting to feel a little claustrophobic. Ulara's a nice enough place, but I need to get away for a while. Besides, it doesn't matter where I am. I'll still know when the Moon Child is born." I adjusted a strap on my belt as I spoke, not looking up.
"I know the feeling," Garren looked up at the sky, ignoring the pouring rain. "For once I'd like to wake up on a Tuesday and say, 'Gee, I wonder what the weather's going to be like today' without any degree of sarcasm involved." Shaking the water out of his soaking hair, he narrowed his eyes. "You wouldn't happen to be willing to take a couple of travelling companions with you this time, would you?"
"What do you mean 'A couple'?"
Garren shifted uncomfortably. "Wee-ell, I was remembering those years I got to travel around Endiness with you. By the end of it I guess I was glad to get back home again, but its just that I saw so much that I'd only have ever read of in reports if I stayed here. It doesn't even snow here for the love of Soa!" He was warming up to his topic now, entering into what I had mentally dubbed 'rant mode'. "There's so much out there to see and do, and I never even did a hundredth of it! The Elders may not approve, but most of them have never even been outside, or if the have they've forgotten what it's like! They just don't understand."
"That's great," I cut in before he could continue, "But you still haven't told me what you meant by 'a couple'."
"What he means to say," Nova's voice came from behind me, "Is that he does most of his serious thinking and reminiscing out loud."
I half-turned to face her. "Don't tell me that you actually listened to him."
"I have to admit that it sounds, well, intriguing. I've heard stories about the outside world before from my mother, but she hardly remembers anything and the world has changed much in the past eleven thousand years or so. The way Garren tells it though, it's a drug. And unfortunately, I think I'm addicted."
"Drugs are dangerous. Especially this one."
"Too bad. I want to see first hand if it's as good as he says." She crossed her arms over her chest and looked resolute. That girl is very good at looking resolute when she puts her mind to it. Probably because if she doesn't get what she wants the first time, she'll keep dragging it back to the start line until she does. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Garren shrug apologetically.
I sighed. /Ark? I'm at a loss/
//Sometimes I think that you were born lost// Ark responded peevishly. He wasn't happy about the delay and wasn't bothering to hide the fact. //Move over. I'll see what I can do// He pushed me to one side, taking control. "Give me one good reason why I should consider taking even one of you," he growled, glaring at first one wingly then the next. "It's not like we're giving guided tours here. Nova, you'd only be a hindrance. You've never fought before."
"Neither did he," She told him, pointing at Garren, "But you taught him. Anyway, I can teleport three times as far as he can, and with half the effort. And I may not be as good with fireballs, but that's not the only type of combat magic. I can take care of myself."
Ark paused, weighing our options. In his mind the winglies were still just excess baggage, but he knew as well as I did that having Garren along had proven useful before. And with two winglies to teleport us it wouldn't matter where in the world the child was born, especially if Nova could teleport as well as she said she could. In some far corner of his mind I could practically hear the gears grinding as he worked his way through to a conclusion. "Alright. I'm not happy with this, and I'm going against my better judgement, but-" He was cut off as Nova caught him up in an enormous hug, a wide grin splitting her face. Ark pried her off with some difficulty while I snickered to myself.
//Shut up// He growled.
/Heheheh/
"Don't do that again." Glaring at Nova, Ark shifted the hilt of the sword around until it was nearly out of sight. "If you're coming, get a move on. We're leaving right away."
Nova's POV:
For the past several centuries, it had always seemed as though Garren had yet another story about the outside world to tell. I often wondered how fifty years of wandering could supply him with two or three hundred years of stories, but that was beside the point really. Garren tells good stories; he had painted images with words in my mind the way that an artist might use a brush on canvas. Storm lashed islands. The Crystal Palace in Deningrad. Vast mountains that stretched across the breadth of the continent, dark and brooding with jagged peaks hidden in low clouds. He even managed to put a good face on the barrens of Tiberoa. He had, however, neglected to mention the desert that surrounded Ulara much less described it in any great detail. So as you might imagine I was rather disappointed with my first impression of the 'real world'. The portal transported us to the northern edge of the Death Frontier, or so Dart said, but it made no difference to me. No matter where I looked there was only a seemingly endless expanse of red-brown sand with only the occasional finger of rock reaching up to the cloudless sky to save it from utter monotony.
Oh, and the mirages. Who could forget the bloody mirages?
Panting and wiping my brow with my sleeve I trudged over yet another sand dune, doing my best to keep up with Garren. Dart ranged along ahead of us, hand on his sword hilt as he did his best to flush out whatever creatures he thought may be lurking unseen under the shifting sands. "Is there any particular reason we're doing this?" I asked finally. Normally I wouldn't have bothered, but the heat was beginning to get to me.
"Huh?" Garren looked at me, confused. "Why are we doing what?"
"Garren," I said, my voice conveying patience that I knew I didn't feel, "We're winglies. You know as well as I do that we could probably just teleport to the edge of this blasted wasteland. Or if nothing else, fly."
"What an amazing observation."
I smacked him upside the head lightly. "Shut up. So why walk?"
"I don't know. Probably because you never offered to warp us out of here earlier than this." Garren paused and pulled off his boot, trying to shake out an offending pebble that had managed to lodge itself in the toe.
"Wait a minute. WE are going to warp."
"No, you are. Do you remember the last time we both tried to warp at once?" He hopped about wildly on one foot, trying to do his best to get the boot back on without getting his foot sandy. "You landed in the river and I was stuck upside down in a tree for fifteen minutes before I got untangled. Our magics aren't all that compatible." Finally winning his war with his boot, he raised his voice. "Hey Dart! Nova just volunteered to warp us the rest of the way to Mille Seseau-ouch!"
"What part of 'shut up' don't you understand?" I demanded, but it was too late. Dart turned back toward us, sliding his sword back into the clip on the belt. Giving Garren one last smack on the head, I turned to face the dark man.
"Really?" Dart asked, one eyebrow raised. Not making fun, just curious.
"Ummm."
"It would save us a couple days of walking," he added.
I was suddenly aware of how much I was perspiring. It didn't take much to break a sweat in this sort of heat, mind you, but it was enough to remind me that it was late afternoon. When we'd left Ulara the hottest part of the day had already passed. I didn't even want to think about what tomorrow would be like. I shifted uncomfortably under Dart's gaze, and probably Ragnarok's as well. "I guess I could. Maybe not all the way to the border but-"
"Good enough."
It took me some time to ready myself for the jump. Warping from one side of Ulara to the other is one thing; skipping over Soa only knows how many miles of sun baked wasteland is another thing entirely. The problem didn't stem so much from the fact that I was carrying passengers as that I had never been to my destination. All that I had to work with was some rough coordinates and a rather sketchy description of the area Garren had in mind. Basically it's the equivalent of playing darts in the dark, with you as the dart and the world as the board. Eventually though I managed to pull my thoughts and energy into enough of an order that we were able to make the jump.
It was already late evening when we reappeared on the borderlands of Millie Seseau. This was closer to the world that Garren had described to me; the night sky was clear, strewn across with a myriad of stars. The horizon was still tinged a faint purple where the sun had set, slowly fading to deep velvet blue. The Moon shone brightly; it's scarred surface seeming somehow closer and clearer than it had back home. As a result the entire landscape before us was bathed in a faint blue-silver light that gave the whole scene an almost unreal quality. We stood near the bottom of a pass; mountains rose all around us, their slopes barren at first, but becoming forested as they moved farther and farther north. A lake glimmered off in the distance, and somewhere I could hear running water. Turning around, the Death Frontier was no where to be seen. Just a rocky slope covered in what looked like some sort of bracken.
Someone's hand rested on my shoulder. Garren stood just behind me, grinning from ear to ear. "Now do you believe all those stories I told you?"
Try as I might, I couldn't think of a reply.
"What happened to not being able to jump all of the way to the border?" Dart asked. His hair and the bandana kept most of his face hidden in shadow, but I thought that the corner of his mouth twitched, as though he was trying to hold back a smile.
"This is the border?"
"Hardly. I'd say that you overshot it by five or six miles, at least. Once we cross over those mountains, we'll be within a few weeks travel to Furni."
The look on my face must have been something, because Garren burst out laughing. "See? I told you that you wouldn't need my help. If I'd stuck my hand in there, we probably would have landed in the middle of Illisa Bay."
I started to nod, but all at once my energy seemed to desert me. I would have fallen, had not Garren caught me. The warp must have taken more out of me than I had previously thought. Struggling back to my feet, I smiled wanly. "Well, I won't be doing that again anytime soon."
"Doesn't matter." Dart ran a hand through his hair, making it stand almost on end. "We may as well set up camp now anyhow. It's not like we're going to get any farther tonight."
And so began the pattern that would continue for the next several weeks. We would travel through the day, from dawn to dusk, and then set up camp as soon as the last of the sun's rays left the western sky. Winter was coming on fast, so the moment the sun dropped out of sight the temperatures would plunge almost to the freezing mark. After one night curled up shivering next to the fire, I resolved to pick up some warmer clothing the moment it became available. The clothes I had worn in Ulara, although suitable for protection against mildly cool temperatures, were about as effective as gauze in this weather. Garren had also seemed to reach a similar conclusion: When we came across a wandering trader in our third day in the mountains he used a good portion of our gold on clothing that was slightly more climate compatible. The chill didn't vanish entirely in my new outfit, but the hooded cloak and lined boots helped to make it bearable.
When we finally arrived in Furni, it was two weeks after we had set out. According to the texts I had read back in Ulara, Furni was supposed to be a small, quiet coastal town. Weaving through the crowd of people clogging the marketplaces and trying to keep up with Dart, I realized exactly how many things had changed since the last time anyone had bothered updating the manuscripts. Furni was far from sleepy: Large and sprawling along the coastline and even out into the bay itself, Furni was a seaport filled with people of every possible race and nationality, all clamoring to do their business. Hawkers lined the streets, trying to sell their wares to everyone, whether they were interested or not. A minstrel sat on a street corner, strumming an out of tune lute and reciting a fanciful dialogue that I didn't recognize to a rapt audience of children and their only slightly less interested parents. The waterways that ran through the city next to the roads were overflowing with small boats of every description, ranging from clumsy barges that transported merchant's wares to the small, shell shaped boats of the local design.
Ducking under the arm of a fish vendor who had tried to block my way, I managed to grab Dart's shoulder. "Where are we going?" I panted. Behind me Garren moved easily through the crowd, pausing from time to time to look with interest at the hawker's merchandise.
"I'm trying to find an inn." Dart didn't bother turning around. "We'll need a place to stay until our, uh, guest shows up." Scratching the back of his head, he pointed to an area across the waterway. "There should be a few over in that district. We should be able to find one that we can afford, for a while at least."
"What about Garren?" I asked, straining my neck around as I struggled to catch sight of my friend. No good; the crowd had already swallowed him up.
"Let him be. He knows what he's doing. Besides, people like him and they'll talk to him easier than they would to me. By the time he finds us again, he'll be able to tell me just about everything that's been going on in this town for the past few weeks. The last time I checked, the Cult had a fairly large chapter in Furni, and I'd like to know who's in charge right now." Dart slowed until he was walking along beside me, then headed towards a bridge that led across to the district that we were headed for. "It could save us some trouble later on. Oh yeah, and as long as we're here, just refer to me as Tien."
"Huh?"
"'Dart' has never been a common name, and when people like me are named for long-dead heroes they tend to draw some attention. It's easier just to avoid that sort of thing all together."
We finally settled on an inn situated along the waterfront; a large, aging building with a peeling red and blue sign out front that proclaimed "The Dragon" in faded scrolling black letters. Pushing open the door, I followed my companion into a low ceilinged smoky common room. It was only half filled; here and there men lounged about at sticky tables, drinking ale and playing dice. A fire burned on its hearth in the far wall, staining the floors and walls with black soot, but supplying the room with a comfortable heat that warded off the outside chill. Dart stepped up to the counter and caught the shoulder of a thin, irritated looking barman who was trying to count out coin. They conversed in low voices for some time before the barman shook his head vehemently and started to turn away. Dart produced a bag of coin and pushed a few pieces of the gold towards him. The man hesitated, apparently torn between the coin on the counter or the chance to get the coin in the bag.
Shifting from foot to foot, I wished silently that Dart would hurry. Several of the men at the tables were watching me out of the corner of their eyes, but one or two were staring at me openly. I recognized the look. Turning away from them hurriedly, I walked over to the bar just as Dart and the barman concluded their business. One hand on my shoulder, Dart steered me towards a narrow staircase in the back of the room. His other hand rested on his swordhilt, making sure that the men drinking at the tables wouldn't miss it.
Our rooms were on the third level of the building, on the top floor. The rooms up here were a sharp contrast to the bar below; small and tidy, the beds were neatly made with white sheets and a plain quilt. A washstand stood in the corner next to a small window, and a woven rag rug was on the floor. Dart muttered some complaints about there not being any locks on the doors, but that couldn't be helped.
The sun had hardly begun to set, but I suddenly found myself longing for bed. Kicking off my shoes and cloak, I crawled under the covers. After weeks of sleeping on the cold, hard ground, even a straw pallet like this was welcome.
Before he ducked out the door, Dart paused. "I wouldn't be too careful of the fact that you're a wingly. If any of those idiots downstairs decide to try to pay you a little visit tonight, set his breeches on fire. That should help him to lose his interest pretty quickly."
"That was to the point." I yawned and pulled the quilt up under my chin. "Don't worry. I can deal with them."
"I'm sure you can," Dart murmured. "Good night, Nova." Leaving quietly, he shut the door behind him.
**Garren, Nova, and Dart all stand about nervously in Shade's room, trying not to inhale the paint fumes too deeply and keeping a wary eye on the stacks of mess which sway and wobble precariously around them. Shade is under the bed: only her feet can be seen**
Shade: **triumphantly** Found them! **starts to wriggle out backwards, dragging something**
Dart: Found what?
Shade: My Galerians! **sits up and pulls out a garbage bag overflowing with Rion plushies** ^-^
Nova: **snickering**
Shade: **Biffs a Parano plushie at her head** PH34R T|-|3/\/\!!!
(That's it. No more Mega Tokyo for Shade.) -_-; Like that's really going to happen. Oh well. Hope you enjoyed that chapter as much as I struggled with writing it. **retreats to an unoccupied corner to beat her head repeatedly on the wall**
Garren: **dragging a sack of Terry Pratchett books out of Shade's room** We're going to be YOUR death soon if you don't clean your room! We started cleaning last week, and we've only just managed to clear a path to the bed!
Shade: Good job. Did you find my Galerian colony?
Garren: **trying to picture a colony of PPEC injected psychic lab rats all fitting under Shade's midget sized bed** Oh for the love of Soa-
@_@; Major time warp zone. In two or three chapters, I just jumped from about two hundred and sixty years or so after the game's timeline to about 720 years after. Did you guys honestly expect me to go through every Moon Child? Oi. Repetition. It wears even on MY easily entertained nerves, and I know you guys have higher standards than that. ^-^ And so we stop the time machine in what would be the year of the appearance of the 7th Kiddo. Because I want to get through part one sometime this summer, hopefully.
Dart's POV:
It was raining.
Usually I enjoy the rain, but today all that it served to do was to worsen my already bad mood. There are things in this world that cause a man to feel his age more acutely on some days than others, but I think that waking up and realizing that you can't remember your own birthday just about tops them all off. Ragnarok could remember, but the fact that I had missed my 751st birthday by several months was rather disconcerting. Almost as much as my actual age. And so I'd spent the rest of the morning slouching about Ulara staring gloomily out the carved stone windows at the grey sky.
//You're being stupid about this, you know// Ragnarok told me. //Years don't mean anything//
/Not to you/ I replied sullenly, /But then again, you were meant to live forever. If humans are really lucky, they get to hang around for about seventy or so years before they kick the bucket/
//They? You mean to say that you're not one of 'them'?// Ark actually sounded amused at this observation.
/Look, I'm 751, a dragoon, have a stone for a heart, and share my body with the lord of dragons who, may I add, has been kicking around since the world was created and never really planned on dying in the first place. What do you think?/
//I never thought of it that way// Ark admitted. //That does sort of alienate you, doesn't it?//
/Just a bit/ I turned my eyes back to the downpour outside. A cold wind whipped through the trees below, stirring the leaves into a frenzy. /If the weather's any indication, I'm not the only one who's feeling out of sorts. I wonder what's up with Charle? She never lets the storms get like this unless something's bothering her/
//She's edgy. The year's almost over, and still no sign of the child's birth//
/Damn. She probably wouldn't let us leave until the Moon changes over then, huh?/
//What makes you think that? She might not like it, but about all she'll do is invent a new, slightly less flattering nickname for you. It's not like anything's keeping us here//
/No, not really/ I sighed and left my window. /It might be easier to find the Moon Child that way, actually/
It didn't take long to gather my things. As a rule I had never carried much in the way of equipment aside from my sword, but I usually tried to keep a full stock when it came to items. You can live without a tent, you can live without a blanket, but you can't live with severe blood loss and nothing to heal it. That was one of the first things I had learned when I'd first set out on my hunt for the Black Monster.
Boy, had things come a long way since then. In more ways than one.
When I had finished storing the last of my gear into the large interior pockets of my overcoat, I belted on my sword and stepped onto the warp pad that would take me to the walkways just outside of the quarters. The newer rooms had doors and hallways rather than the portals, which were powered by the amassed power of the winglies themselves in Ulara. The cutback had been in an effort to slow the gradual decline of their power, or so Charle had said. Even though it was never mentioned, I could tell that she had begun to worry about that particular problem. The spell of timelessness around Ulara would only last as long as there were enough winglies to power it. The day would eventually come when the spell would end, and the lives of Ulara's inhabitants would pick up where they left off, unless-
//Forget it// Ragnarok stated flatly as I stepped out into the rain. //They found a source of power once, and if they really want to they can find one again. I'll maintain the spell on the choker if need be, but there's no way that I'm going to try to maintain a whole city//
"Dart?"
I turned. Garren stood on the walkway a short distance behind me, a confused look on his pale features. "Where are you going? The Moon hasn't turned red yet."
"I'm starting to feel a little claustrophobic. Ulara's a nice enough place, but I need to get away for a while. Besides, it doesn't matter where I am. I'll still know when the Moon Child is born." I adjusted a strap on my belt as I spoke, not looking up.
"I know the feeling," Garren looked up at the sky, ignoring the pouring rain. "For once I'd like to wake up on a Tuesday and say, 'Gee, I wonder what the weather's going to be like today' without any degree of sarcasm involved." Shaking the water out of his soaking hair, he narrowed his eyes. "You wouldn't happen to be willing to take a couple of travelling companions with you this time, would you?"
"What do you mean 'A couple'?"
Garren shifted uncomfortably. "Wee-ell, I was remembering those years I got to travel around Endiness with you. By the end of it I guess I was glad to get back home again, but its just that I saw so much that I'd only have ever read of in reports if I stayed here. It doesn't even snow here for the love of Soa!" He was warming up to his topic now, entering into what I had mentally dubbed 'rant mode'. "There's so much out there to see and do, and I never even did a hundredth of it! The Elders may not approve, but most of them have never even been outside, or if the have they've forgotten what it's like! They just don't understand."
"That's great," I cut in before he could continue, "But you still haven't told me what you meant by 'a couple'."
"What he means to say," Nova's voice came from behind me, "Is that he does most of his serious thinking and reminiscing out loud."
I half-turned to face her. "Don't tell me that you actually listened to him."
"I have to admit that it sounds, well, intriguing. I've heard stories about the outside world before from my mother, but she hardly remembers anything and the world has changed much in the past eleven thousand years or so. The way Garren tells it though, it's a drug. And unfortunately, I think I'm addicted."
"Drugs are dangerous. Especially this one."
"Too bad. I want to see first hand if it's as good as he says." She crossed her arms over her chest and looked resolute. That girl is very good at looking resolute when she puts her mind to it. Probably because if she doesn't get what she wants the first time, she'll keep dragging it back to the start line until she does. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Garren shrug apologetically.
I sighed. /Ark? I'm at a loss/
//Sometimes I think that you were born lost// Ark responded peevishly. He wasn't happy about the delay and wasn't bothering to hide the fact. //Move over. I'll see what I can do// He pushed me to one side, taking control. "Give me one good reason why I should consider taking even one of you," he growled, glaring at first one wingly then the next. "It's not like we're giving guided tours here. Nova, you'd only be a hindrance. You've never fought before."
"Neither did he," She told him, pointing at Garren, "But you taught him. Anyway, I can teleport three times as far as he can, and with half the effort. And I may not be as good with fireballs, but that's not the only type of combat magic. I can take care of myself."
Ark paused, weighing our options. In his mind the winglies were still just excess baggage, but he knew as well as I did that having Garren along had proven useful before. And with two winglies to teleport us it wouldn't matter where in the world the child was born, especially if Nova could teleport as well as she said she could. In some far corner of his mind I could practically hear the gears grinding as he worked his way through to a conclusion. "Alright. I'm not happy with this, and I'm going against my better judgement, but-" He was cut off as Nova caught him up in an enormous hug, a wide grin splitting her face. Ark pried her off with some difficulty while I snickered to myself.
//Shut up// He growled.
/Heheheh/
"Don't do that again." Glaring at Nova, Ark shifted the hilt of the sword around until it was nearly out of sight. "If you're coming, get a move on. We're leaving right away."
Nova's POV:
For the past several centuries, it had always seemed as though Garren had yet another story about the outside world to tell. I often wondered how fifty years of wandering could supply him with two or three hundred years of stories, but that was beside the point really. Garren tells good stories; he had painted images with words in my mind the way that an artist might use a brush on canvas. Storm lashed islands. The Crystal Palace in Deningrad. Vast mountains that stretched across the breadth of the continent, dark and brooding with jagged peaks hidden in low clouds. He even managed to put a good face on the barrens of Tiberoa. He had, however, neglected to mention the desert that surrounded Ulara much less described it in any great detail. So as you might imagine I was rather disappointed with my first impression of the 'real world'. The portal transported us to the northern edge of the Death Frontier, or so Dart said, but it made no difference to me. No matter where I looked there was only a seemingly endless expanse of red-brown sand with only the occasional finger of rock reaching up to the cloudless sky to save it from utter monotony.
Oh, and the mirages. Who could forget the bloody mirages?
Panting and wiping my brow with my sleeve I trudged over yet another sand dune, doing my best to keep up with Garren. Dart ranged along ahead of us, hand on his sword hilt as he did his best to flush out whatever creatures he thought may be lurking unseen under the shifting sands. "Is there any particular reason we're doing this?" I asked finally. Normally I wouldn't have bothered, but the heat was beginning to get to me.
"Huh?" Garren looked at me, confused. "Why are we doing what?"
"Garren," I said, my voice conveying patience that I knew I didn't feel, "We're winglies. You know as well as I do that we could probably just teleport to the edge of this blasted wasteland. Or if nothing else, fly."
"What an amazing observation."
I smacked him upside the head lightly. "Shut up. So why walk?"
"I don't know. Probably because you never offered to warp us out of here earlier than this." Garren paused and pulled off his boot, trying to shake out an offending pebble that had managed to lodge itself in the toe.
"Wait a minute. WE are going to warp."
"No, you are. Do you remember the last time we both tried to warp at once?" He hopped about wildly on one foot, trying to do his best to get the boot back on without getting his foot sandy. "You landed in the river and I was stuck upside down in a tree for fifteen minutes before I got untangled. Our magics aren't all that compatible." Finally winning his war with his boot, he raised his voice. "Hey Dart! Nova just volunteered to warp us the rest of the way to Mille Seseau-ouch!"
"What part of 'shut up' don't you understand?" I demanded, but it was too late. Dart turned back toward us, sliding his sword back into the clip on the belt. Giving Garren one last smack on the head, I turned to face the dark man.
"Really?" Dart asked, one eyebrow raised. Not making fun, just curious.
"Ummm."
"It would save us a couple days of walking," he added.
I was suddenly aware of how much I was perspiring. It didn't take much to break a sweat in this sort of heat, mind you, but it was enough to remind me that it was late afternoon. When we'd left Ulara the hottest part of the day had already passed. I didn't even want to think about what tomorrow would be like. I shifted uncomfortably under Dart's gaze, and probably Ragnarok's as well. "I guess I could. Maybe not all the way to the border but-"
"Good enough."
It took me some time to ready myself for the jump. Warping from one side of Ulara to the other is one thing; skipping over Soa only knows how many miles of sun baked wasteland is another thing entirely. The problem didn't stem so much from the fact that I was carrying passengers as that I had never been to my destination. All that I had to work with was some rough coordinates and a rather sketchy description of the area Garren had in mind. Basically it's the equivalent of playing darts in the dark, with you as the dart and the world as the board. Eventually though I managed to pull my thoughts and energy into enough of an order that we were able to make the jump.
It was already late evening when we reappeared on the borderlands of Millie Seseau. This was closer to the world that Garren had described to me; the night sky was clear, strewn across with a myriad of stars. The horizon was still tinged a faint purple where the sun had set, slowly fading to deep velvet blue. The Moon shone brightly; it's scarred surface seeming somehow closer and clearer than it had back home. As a result the entire landscape before us was bathed in a faint blue-silver light that gave the whole scene an almost unreal quality. We stood near the bottom of a pass; mountains rose all around us, their slopes barren at first, but becoming forested as they moved farther and farther north. A lake glimmered off in the distance, and somewhere I could hear running water. Turning around, the Death Frontier was no where to be seen. Just a rocky slope covered in what looked like some sort of bracken.
Someone's hand rested on my shoulder. Garren stood just behind me, grinning from ear to ear. "Now do you believe all those stories I told you?"
Try as I might, I couldn't think of a reply.
"What happened to not being able to jump all of the way to the border?" Dart asked. His hair and the bandana kept most of his face hidden in shadow, but I thought that the corner of his mouth twitched, as though he was trying to hold back a smile.
"This is the border?"
"Hardly. I'd say that you overshot it by five or six miles, at least. Once we cross over those mountains, we'll be within a few weeks travel to Furni."
The look on my face must have been something, because Garren burst out laughing. "See? I told you that you wouldn't need my help. If I'd stuck my hand in there, we probably would have landed in the middle of Illisa Bay."
I started to nod, but all at once my energy seemed to desert me. I would have fallen, had not Garren caught me. The warp must have taken more out of me than I had previously thought. Struggling back to my feet, I smiled wanly. "Well, I won't be doing that again anytime soon."
"Doesn't matter." Dart ran a hand through his hair, making it stand almost on end. "We may as well set up camp now anyhow. It's not like we're going to get any farther tonight."
And so began the pattern that would continue for the next several weeks. We would travel through the day, from dawn to dusk, and then set up camp as soon as the last of the sun's rays left the western sky. Winter was coming on fast, so the moment the sun dropped out of sight the temperatures would plunge almost to the freezing mark. After one night curled up shivering next to the fire, I resolved to pick up some warmer clothing the moment it became available. The clothes I had worn in Ulara, although suitable for protection against mildly cool temperatures, were about as effective as gauze in this weather. Garren had also seemed to reach a similar conclusion: When we came across a wandering trader in our third day in the mountains he used a good portion of our gold on clothing that was slightly more climate compatible. The chill didn't vanish entirely in my new outfit, but the hooded cloak and lined boots helped to make it bearable.
When we finally arrived in Furni, it was two weeks after we had set out. According to the texts I had read back in Ulara, Furni was supposed to be a small, quiet coastal town. Weaving through the crowd of people clogging the marketplaces and trying to keep up with Dart, I realized exactly how many things had changed since the last time anyone had bothered updating the manuscripts. Furni was far from sleepy: Large and sprawling along the coastline and even out into the bay itself, Furni was a seaport filled with people of every possible race and nationality, all clamoring to do their business. Hawkers lined the streets, trying to sell their wares to everyone, whether they were interested or not. A minstrel sat on a street corner, strumming an out of tune lute and reciting a fanciful dialogue that I didn't recognize to a rapt audience of children and their only slightly less interested parents. The waterways that ran through the city next to the roads were overflowing with small boats of every description, ranging from clumsy barges that transported merchant's wares to the small, shell shaped boats of the local design.
Ducking under the arm of a fish vendor who had tried to block my way, I managed to grab Dart's shoulder. "Where are we going?" I panted. Behind me Garren moved easily through the crowd, pausing from time to time to look with interest at the hawker's merchandise.
"I'm trying to find an inn." Dart didn't bother turning around. "We'll need a place to stay until our, uh, guest shows up." Scratching the back of his head, he pointed to an area across the waterway. "There should be a few over in that district. We should be able to find one that we can afford, for a while at least."
"What about Garren?" I asked, straining my neck around as I struggled to catch sight of my friend. No good; the crowd had already swallowed him up.
"Let him be. He knows what he's doing. Besides, people like him and they'll talk to him easier than they would to me. By the time he finds us again, he'll be able to tell me just about everything that's been going on in this town for the past few weeks. The last time I checked, the Cult had a fairly large chapter in Furni, and I'd like to know who's in charge right now." Dart slowed until he was walking along beside me, then headed towards a bridge that led across to the district that we were headed for. "It could save us some trouble later on. Oh yeah, and as long as we're here, just refer to me as Tien."
"Huh?"
"'Dart' has never been a common name, and when people like me are named for long-dead heroes they tend to draw some attention. It's easier just to avoid that sort of thing all together."
We finally settled on an inn situated along the waterfront; a large, aging building with a peeling red and blue sign out front that proclaimed "The Dragon" in faded scrolling black letters. Pushing open the door, I followed my companion into a low ceilinged smoky common room. It was only half filled; here and there men lounged about at sticky tables, drinking ale and playing dice. A fire burned on its hearth in the far wall, staining the floors and walls with black soot, but supplying the room with a comfortable heat that warded off the outside chill. Dart stepped up to the counter and caught the shoulder of a thin, irritated looking barman who was trying to count out coin. They conversed in low voices for some time before the barman shook his head vehemently and started to turn away. Dart produced a bag of coin and pushed a few pieces of the gold towards him. The man hesitated, apparently torn between the coin on the counter or the chance to get the coin in the bag.
Shifting from foot to foot, I wished silently that Dart would hurry. Several of the men at the tables were watching me out of the corner of their eyes, but one or two were staring at me openly. I recognized the look. Turning away from them hurriedly, I walked over to the bar just as Dart and the barman concluded their business. One hand on my shoulder, Dart steered me towards a narrow staircase in the back of the room. His other hand rested on his swordhilt, making sure that the men drinking at the tables wouldn't miss it.
Our rooms were on the third level of the building, on the top floor. The rooms up here were a sharp contrast to the bar below; small and tidy, the beds were neatly made with white sheets and a plain quilt. A washstand stood in the corner next to a small window, and a woven rag rug was on the floor. Dart muttered some complaints about there not being any locks on the doors, but that couldn't be helped.
The sun had hardly begun to set, but I suddenly found myself longing for bed. Kicking off my shoes and cloak, I crawled under the covers. After weeks of sleeping on the cold, hard ground, even a straw pallet like this was welcome.
Before he ducked out the door, Dart paused. "I wouldn't be too careful of the fact that you're a wingly. If any of those idiots downstairs decide to try to pay you a little visit tonight, set his breeches on fire. That should help him to lose his interest pretty quickly."
"That was to the point." I yawned and pulled the quilt up under my chin. "Don't worry. I can deal with them."
"I'm sure you can," Dart murmured. "Good night, Nova." Leaving quietly, he shut the door behind him.
**Garren, Nova, and Dart all stand about nervously in Shade's room, trying not to inhale the paint fumes too deeply and keeping a wary eye on the stacks of mess which sway and wobble precariously around them. Shade is under the bed: only her feet can be seen**
Shade: **triumphantly** Found them! **starts to wriggle out backwards, dragging something**
Dart: Found what?
Shade: My Galerians! **sits up and pulls out a garbage bag overflowing with Rion plushies** ^-^
Nova: **snickering**
Shade: **Biffs a Parano plushie at her head** PH34R T|-|3/\/\!!!
(That's it. No more Mega Tokyo for Shade.) -_-; Like that's really going to happen. Oh well. Hope you enjoyed that chapter as much as I struggled with writing it. **retreats to an unoccupied corner to beat her head repeatedly on the wall**