"…Stranger than your sympathy
Take these things, so I don't feel
Cut myself from the inside out
And now my head's been filled with doubt
We're taught to lead the life you choose
All I wanted
You know your love's run out on you
All I wanted
And you can't see when all your dreams aren't coming true
Oh, yeah
It's easy to forget, yeah
When you choke on the regrets, yeah
Who the hell did I think I was?
And stranger than your sympathy
And all these thoughts you stole from me
And I'm not sure where I belong
And no where's home and no more wrong…"

Goo Goo Dolls - Sympathy

Chapter 35: Fortune

---------------------------------------------Interlude------------------------------------------------

I saw her fall and immediately my reflex was to jump after her, but that would accomplish nothing. My throat seized up as I realised the gravity of her actions. There was no way anyone would survive that fall. So…where did that leave things, then? She was gone. She had completely ignored her own safety and dived through the opening into nothingness. I wondered distantly why she hadn't thrown the object down, but realised the difficulty of this as the opening encompassed the entire floor of the structure, leaving nothing to hold on to and no escape for its prisoners inside the barriers. There was no way she could have moved me to safety as well as disposing of the orb and still manage to save herself.

So she chose me. How could she justify throwing away her own life?

I supposed I would never get to ask her. This thought terrified me far more than the fact that I was standing in an abandoned, floating city with an enraged man that seemed to know how to command the city itself. She…was gone. I realised that that meant I would never again see her satirical grin at the events unfolding around her, see her take down every threat around her within moments, see her rare but rewarding real smiles. And I'd never hear her response, either. He was still alive. But I would deal with that soon enough. Her orders, as she disappeared from my sight, were to 'destroy him'. Cleverly, she had never made him ask me to vow not to kill him. Not that it would stop me, really. He had killed her, and she would be avenged.

Not a second had passed since his scream of fury, wrenched from the bottom of his soul as he saw Yunalesca disappear with what he had been so close to obtaining. I turned to him, teeth gritted. It was his fault she was dead. It was his foolish ambition that had given her need to sacrifice herself. It was him. I drew my knives. I would kill him for what he did to her.

"You!" He yelled at me, his finger pointing accusingly in my direction, shaking slightly in his frenzy. "You made this happen! If it weren't for you I would already have succeeded!" It was strange seeing him like this, the cool exterior shattered. "My entire life's work dedicated to this day and you destroy it!" I took a step towards him, my own expression barely held in check, the grief became anger, and that was close to breaking through.

"If it weren't for you, she would still be alive! If it weren't for you, none of this would have happened, and she would never have come here!" I felt my teeth bare in rage, and no longer cared. "You killed her."

"Enough words, prince!" He unsheathed his sword, a plain, one-handed thing, the edge of which glinted in the nearby sun with sharpness. He was a human, but he had also had a place in the final events of the Tournament. I knew not to take him lightly. He charged with an attack that I easily parried, his anger getting the better of his technique. I retaliated and he barely blocked, my other dagger missing his side by millimetres as he dodged. I attacked again, and he leapt back to avoid me, arcing his blade low to force me to move backwards. It seemed a strange technique at the time, but soon I realised his strategy.

Without warning he dropped his sword and reached for his left sleeve. I charged, but was too late. He raised his palm, on which there was an ornate clasp chained to rings, similar to Yuna's, containing a jewel of the brightest red. I saw the light before I felt the blinding agony shooting through my body, engulfing every muscle until it collected into the centre of my chest, where the burning heat of the pain signalled to me the fresh wound there. I fought against the instinct to sleep and forced my eyes open. I saw him leaning over me, his eyes cool and steeled as always, with just a hint of menace. He snarled at the fact that I was still conscious and backhanded me, the sharp metal biting into my skin. I was still wounded from the fight with Yunalesca, and this was not something I needed. I couldn't move, the most I could manage being a twitch of my fingers. I felt his hand pressed against my chest, and just as the searing fire spread through my limp figure, I gave in and saw only darkness.

-------------------------------------------End Interlude---------------------------------------------

I plummeted, falling further and further, the flimsy fabric of my garments providing little resistance or protection from the wind. The object was still frozen to my hands, I realised. Without another thought I threw it out even further into the sea, the added momentum making it fall faster. I could only hope Legolas would succeed and live on. But the sea was fast approaching, and I had myself to think about now that the world was saved yet again by some unfortunate soul. But I was not a heroine. I never had been, I was just another trying to survive. And I was not going to become a martyr. I wouldn't have minded finding a convenient cause to die for before I got into all of this, but now…there were too many unanswered questions, too much to live for. So, in retrospect, it was a great plan to throw myself over the side of a city suspended hundreds of leagues above the sea. Really great.

In my mind I bellowed out for the Eagles to come. I knew it was unlikely, but it was the only thing I could think of. The sea was coming closer. Somehow my hair had come unravelled and now flew out untamed behind me. I grasped Lucreccía sheathed at my side. At least if I would die looking like the obligatory scantily clad female in every tale, I would die with a sword in my hand.

I regarded her with fascination as I held her before me. She was no longer my mother's sword, a simple family heirloom. She was one of the three artefacts. One of the keys that unleashed the thing I had just disposed of in what seemed very practical at the time. Each with a different power of their very own, to aid in battle, or so I dimly remember him telling me at some point. The power to destroy, to protect, and to heal. I clutched the power of destruction in my elaborately decorated hands, that much was obvious to anyone that had seen her in battle. She had served me well, and worked at the will of my mind as I fought. I realised I had one scrap of hope left, and I must be wearing it.

I began fiddling with the contraption on my hand, willing it to do something, anything. Nothing happened. I could see every vibrant and deadly detail of the ocean as it came even closer. Hysterically, I grabbed the blue stone in the centre of the amulet, closing my eyes and praying to survive as the wind hissed violently against my skin, the sea engulfed me with a crash that took over my senses, and there was blackness.

I realised belatedly that this was because I had closed my eyes.

But wait. I was still thinking. This was a start. But I wasn't underwater. That was strange. I wasn't moving, either, just sort of…hovering. At least that's what it felt like. I didn't want to open my eyes, afraid of what they might confirm, but forced them to comply anyway.

I was, in fact, underwater, sinking steadily downwards, which I found petrifying. I reached out to the sun breaking through the water above and propelled myself upwards. But nothing happened. I glanced downwards and saw my amulet glowing a blinding white. It was then I realised that I was somehow shielded, as if I were behind a pane of glass. The water stayed at all times at least a foot from my body suspended behind a thin blue film of light, resulting in no harm coming to me from the shattering impact. I didn't even feel it. The power of protection radiated from my chest. But if I couldn't touch the water, which the amulet apparently thought to be harmful, I couldn't break the surface. I tapped it a few times, then shook it back and forth, finally willing it with all my power to stop.

…And it did. The water rushed into the empty space, nearly choking me with the shock. Getting over my initial surprise, I clawed my way to the surface, gasping for breath as I felt the wind tearing at my saturated hair again. I saw the city far above, but could make out nothing else. The fall didn't kill me, but the ocean just might. I searched over the rough waves for land, all the time trying to stay afloat.

I couldn't see anything, a heavy coat of mist hung over the distance. Once more in my mind I called out to them for help. And I thanked any Valar that still cared when I opened my eyes and saw they had listened. One of the great beasts approached, skimming the tops of waves as it beat its powerful wings. As it approached it came lower, circling around my bobbing figure. I reached up and hauled myself onto its back, using all the strength left in me to cling on and beg for it to bear me once more as it began an almost vertical climb to the city, thanking whoever was listening once again that I was alive.

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"Will you…wait for me?" I asked, unsure. The creature regarded me curiously for a moment before it lowered its large head in what I assumed was agreement. I nodded in acknowledgement. "Thank you…I…won't take long."

I hurried down the path leading to the site of the confrontation, keeping in my mind what I hoped to be true, but all the same haunted by a vision of the plan reversed. I was alive, after all. The fates had determined I should, by their grace, live to see another sunrise. But whether the rest of my plan should all go like clockwork, that was something else altogether.

I stopped dead in my tracks as I saw a figure slumped by the path. Legolas. After a moment's hesitation I ran towards him, gaining speed as I came closer and saw his wounds. I knelt by his prone form, inspecting the probably mortal injuries that made him look like he had been bludgeoned by the club of a cave troll. His flesh had been seared, skin ripped open, blood seeping into his clothes at a frightening rate. I had to do something.

My hands hovered over the wounds uncertainly, not wanting to touch them but at the same time wishing more than anything for them to heal, and for him to live as I did. I had done it before, saved the lives of men by binding their wounds in the heat of battle. And now the only sound was the howling of the wind in my ears and the inexpressibly loud pounding of my own blood, a rhythm that grew faster and faster still as my breathing, heavy and far too thunderous to be my own, matched it. His chest rose and fell with shadow, raspy breaths. I had to do something, but what could I do? The black and murky red chaos that had become of his chest rendered me motionless.

He was close to death. I couldn't let him go. A tear trickled down my cheek which I wouldn't have minded him seeing if it meant he would open his eyes and live.

He had to heal somehow, but no one I knew of had the skill to do so. What had caused such a thing? It mattered not, only if it killed him. I still couldn't bring myself to touch the gaping mass of blood and torn clothing on his chest. Like a child locked in prayer, my eyes screwed shut as the tears leaked out and my hands locked in their hovering over his torso as a scream that existed in my mind alone flew to the heavens and commanded that his wounds should heal.

I noticed something in my peripheral vision but couldn't tear myself from the site of his face, twisted up in pain, scratched and bleeding. Another. And another. I glanced down to my hands and noticed the stones on the contraption adorning my wrist, fingers and palm whirring into life with a cerulean light. I was too surprised to do anything but watch as they lit up together and began to cast a soft glow onto his chest. To my amazement and incredulity, his skin began to knit back together, the blood stopping escaping from his wound as it ceased to exist. And in a matter of seconds, he was normal. His breathing deepened and steadied. The…thing…whatever it was, stopped glowing, and was the same again.

I marvelled at the peculiarity of what had just occurred. Fate was a terrible and beautiful thing. He was alive. We both were. I realised that there was an astonished smile on my face. I removed it quickly and focused. Legolas was here, and he was safe enough. So where was Daeguerro? He can't have got far, and there weren't many places for him to hide in. Except…

I glanced up to the temple. He had to be in there somewhere. I stood purposefully, unsheathing Lucreccía, and advanced towards the collection of massive pillars before me, murder on my face and revenge in my eyes. I was silhouetted in the entrance, and must have been quite a sight as he looked up to me. By his side was a bag filled with what I assumed was the loot from the temple. I suppose he figured that if he didn't leave powerful he'd at least leave rich. But he stopped when he saw me. I caught a glance at his face, a mask of terror for a split second before it melted into anger. He began to run towards me, his hand outstretched with some sort of device attached to it. I wasn't taking any chances. Lucreccía opened at my will, and I thrust it forward, the chevrons rippling out in a dead straight line that eventually ended up buried somewhere in his abdomen. He stopped in shock, crying out in pain, falling backwards as he clutched the wound. I cracked the sword down and as it came back up it returned to its original shape as I advanced on him. Placing the blade to his neck I stood on his wrist to immobilise the device, my bare toes digging sharply into his veins.

"Now, then," I began. "That wasn't enough to kill you, but let me tell you now that I am not above that. Especially since you broke our little agreement. Why don't you start by explaining to me just what the hell you did to him?" I pressed the blade closer.

"I…" he choked, "I was attacked. I retaliated."

"Of course you were, but if you recall you were instructed not to harm him in any way. It was only I that wasn't to kill you, not him. He could do what he wished. But since you broke that, I see no reason for me not to break my word and be finished with you." I made a tiny yet precise cut through the skin of his neck for emphasis, a small trail of blood winding down to the stone floor.

"You will not kill me. I know too much that you want to know yourself." He rasped, still defiant in the face of death. But I considered his offer. There was a lot that I wanted to know, that much was true…and he seemed as good a source as any.

"Alright, then." I consented. "Answer my questions and I may just let you live. And I'm a heroine, remember? Word of honour and all that." He nodded mutely. He didn't have much of a choice, really. I began my interrogation.

"You can control that thing on your hand. And some other things in this city, but you are not of our blood. How?"

"Do you honestly think the Avari made everything they created blood-bound? It is only their most important creations such as your sword there and the other artefacts. Things like that. It is a lot harder for someone else to control the city and its contents, but it is possible, and I have spent my life studying how."

"Fair enough. What the hell am I wearing?" He chuckled.

"The ensemble of a high priestess. The Avari had less of a grasp on modesty as many others. So close to the sun can make this place rather hot in the summer, so I'm told. As for why, it was a test. I had to make sure you were completely under my control. After all, even if you were doing a superb job of acting, I can't imagine any circumstances in which you would agree to wear such a thing."

"True, I suppose. Doesn't excuse you, though. Now tell me, what is it that the orb does? Why did you want it so badly?"

"The orb…it worked too quickly to earn even a name. The power it is enchanted with is almost limitless. Using it I could enthral nations of people or creatures to do my bidding. Knowing nothing but my wishes, and their own desire to carry them out. It is a thing of unimaginable value and dominance. With it I could have succeeded in ruling over the entirety of Arda and beyond. But no chance of that now, thanks to you…" his voice wavered as he ended, anger seeping back in.

"That's correct, but I don't approve of your tone." I dug the sword in ever so slightly deeper. "You were a fool to think for a second that you would succeed. More ambition than sense. But moving on, if you needed the orb to do that, how were you able to control me? How is it you, a human, were able to make me nothing more than a slave?" I reigned in my vexation at this and awaited his response.

"I lived and studied under one and the same that helped to enchant the thing in the first place. She taught me the principles of what they had done, wishing for them to be forgotten but all the same not wanting the knowledge of the past to be lost. From her teachings I learnt how to control one of your kind, make them senseless killers if I wished, or emotionless thralls, as you were. But my enchantments were not strong enough to hold you. You were able to break free again, much to my dismay."

"Wait, again?" Suddenly it dawned on me, and things began to make a lot more sense. "It was you…that night in the palace. It was you. You were the one that sent me those dreams, that made me leave in the first place. You…you even sent those Orcs to burn the Entwood, didn't you?"

"Of course it was. I tried to capture you, but you resisted that, then I had to follow you to the Greenwood, and you know the rest. How else would I get you to leave? Your twisted sense of responsibility towards your 'home' wouldn't let you leave, but once you did, that was nothing next to what kept you in Eryn Lasgalen. I had to lure you out, somehow. And it seemed to work."

"You…you dare…" I steadied myself, closing my eyes so I didn't have to see the infuriating air of superiority in his glare. "Let me straighten this out. You force me to leave my home, follow me to another, assault my dreams night after night, almost get me killed if it were not for the Prince, then you approach me with the pretence of helping me only to drag me here to fulfil your own sick desires? And then you have the absolute nerve to accuse me of messing things up?" I cut into his neck again. "Give me one reason, just one reason." I was absolutely livid. And it didn't really matter what he said.

"You…you promised! You said…" He spluttered, his adam's apple bobbing up and down, narrowly avoiding the point of my sword.

"Oh, what? I can't kill you because I'm supposed to be 'good', and the heroines always show mercy? Well let me tell you something: I said I 'may' not kill you, I never said I really was a heroine, and who's going to know or care if I go back on my word? You wouldn't think twice before killing me, even killing him, so why should I be concerned about your life?" I wasn't a merciful being by nature. And this one had caused more than his fair share of problems. His pitiful existence offended me and would do so no longer.

"But..you…!" Were the last words that escaped his mouth before my blade was thrust through his neck. His back arched suddenly and a final gasp escaped his lips before he breathed no more. With that done, thoughtfully I eyed the sack of treasures next to him. I retrieved my sword and re-sheathed it before having a quick rifle through the contents, conscious of Legolas outside, as well as the eagle. A few artefacts, jewels, gold, mythril, things of purely material value. I ignored them. I had enough rich friends. I hurried back outside, cursing Legolas for his weight as I half-carried, half-dragged him to the waiting transportation.

---------------------------------------------Interlude------------------------------------------------

My eyes were closed. That was the first thing I noticed as I became conscious. Why was I sleeping with my eyes closed? In fact, why was I sleeping at all? We had to find Yuna, she could be anywhere, and I didn't have time to sleep, I…

Memories came in flashes. The sight of her barely clothed walking with him beside her. Her charging towards me with nothing in her expression. My proclamation as the light flooded back into her eyes and she awakened. The half-turn she made, her vision clashing with mine, as she disappeared through the floor, her gaze full of sorrow. And then he was over me, and the blackness exploded over my recollection, the pain of the wound returning for a moment before I realised…it wasn't there. And I was in a bed. And it was day, but a thin film of material held back the light. And as my breathing slowed I realised the sound no longer corresponded to the rise and fall of my chest. There was someone else.

If I was in any danger, they'd have killed me by now, I decided. I opened my eyes and was momentarily blinded by the light, but regained my vision quickly. The light breathing came from my right and I glanced to the side of what was indeed a large mahogany bed to see a figure curled up in a matching armchair. Her silver hair was in a loose braid, tendrils flying out the side to frame her face, which rested in the fold of one arm as she slept. Her dark lashes swept over bronzed cheeks, half covered by the hair falling over. But…I saw her fall. I saw her disappear under the blanket of clouds. There was no way she could have survived that. No way. But somehow I didn't care how. She was alive. The knowledge lifted my spirits more than I could say. The sight of her there, sleeping serenely as if she didn't have one of the deadliest hand-held weapons known to man nestled under her other arm…it made me want to smile in a way I hadn't done since I was barely an adolescent. What was she doing to me?

She stirred in her sleep, her nose wrinkling in a fashion that she'd probably hate me to see. Seeing her like this, so unguarded, unworried, uncaring, it seemed almost indecent, but at the same time I could barely take my eyes away. A more rebellious and notably suicidal part of me noticed with some sadness that she had swapped her previous outfit for something loser and more practical. Her pointed ears poked out from in between two chunks of hair, her obvious Elvish heritage anything but apparent in the way she was nestled like a child in the cushions of the armchair. She was a living contradiction. She could inspire fear into the hearts of the most hideous monsters, but I had seen the smallest child clinging to her for safety. She hated being recognised under her hood, yet she would put on a spectacle for thousands of adoring fans. She would be frosty and callous, insisting that she was using me, and yet she was here now, sleeping by the side of my bed.

I slid out of the covers, noticing that someone somewhere along the line had changed my clothes from my battered tunic into a pair of loose breeches, which I suppose I was grateful for. As I stood, I realised that my wounds were, in fact, completely gone. I wasn't even wearing a bandage. And there didn't seem to be any scar. How long was I out for? I knelt down next to her, my fingers brushing a few stands from her face. I wanted to wake her up, if only to prove she was really there and alive, but at the same time I wouldn't be opposed to watching her breathing softly for a while longer. Unfortunately, she had other plans. Her eyes flickered open, confusion evident on her face even before her gaze met mine. For an instant, her expression began to melt into something resembling relief, but it was quickly subdued, surprised annoyance choosing instead to take its place as she rubbed the sand from her eyes.

"Why did you wake me up? I was dreaming. And who said you were allowed to get out of bed? Not that I care about your horrific injuries, of course, it's your own fault for coming gallivanting after me like that." She said, sounding for all her years like a scolding mother. It was far from the warm welcome I envisioned, but close to what I had expected.

"I'm fine. There's no need for me to be in bed. Whatever happened, I'm completely healed." I said, gesturing to the completely mended patch of skin. Her lips froze in the middle of conjugating. I remembered the night she left with photographic detail. "And it was hardly my fault for following you. Would you have expected otherwise?" She looked towards the floor for a moment. I sat on the bed in front of her, awaiting a response.

"I suppose not, though I'd hoped you wouldn't have." She brushed the hair from her eyes irritably, a gesture I'd come to recognise all too well. "It's a long story, and we have an even longer journey after we leave this place, so we can talk about it later if you wish." This place? That was a point, where were we? The furniture didn't look to be of Elven craftsmanship, so we were in a Human city? But where?

"Dol Amroth." Yuna said, apparently guessing my thoughts. "You've only been asleep for two days, although that was enough to make the others near hysterical, particularly Firowen, though he mentioned that his concern was more to the point of your dear sister hating him for letting you die. Touching."

As if on cue, I heard the door creak open and a blond head that resembled my own far too much poked through, eyes widening as he caught sight of me. He grinned, walking towards the two of us.

"Sorry to break you two lovebirds up, just checking that you're alive after all. There was chaos when she brought you back unconscious. Especially with what she was wear— " He was cut off as Yuna's elbow collided with his stomach.

"Well Arandir liked it, anyway." She interjected. "Said it reminded him of a time before it all happened." We would definitely talk about it later.

"Moving on," Firowen began again, still sounding a little winded, "word has reached the White City of our stay here, and our presence has been requested, nay, demanded, by King Elessar." A smile crossed my face. It seemed like too long since I'd seen Aragorn. "I'm not entirely sure how he knew we were here, but a message was sent asking whether or not our stay was prolonged or if we had any pressing business to attend to."

"We stay here at our leisure, I understand." Yuna answered. "I am wary as to what it is he wishes us there for, though."

"Can't an old friend ask for a visit?" I said, the corner of my mouth quirking upwards.

"Alright, we'll go if you want." She conceded. "Not that I must necessarily travel with you. It's just more convenient for me this way." She was too quick to correct herself. My heart sank ever so slightly. Why did she have to leave? But I nodded anyway. I had just got her back, and I wasn't going to lose her again by crowding her with questions and demands. I didn't know where these thoughts came from. I didn't know why it was that everything she did seemed to become endearing or strangely provocative. I didn't know, but I didn't care either.

"We'll leave whenever we are ready. Firowen, if you could tell the messenger…"

"Already done, my Prince." He said with mock dutifulness. "Yunalesca filled us in on the details as to what happened, with the help of Arandir, and we decided there was no further hurry for us to go anywhere. Cer would beg to differ, what with Jen and all, but a few more days, weeks, however long we wish, won't really hurt." I had to agree. What awaited me back in Eryn Lasgalen was a flurry of airy not-quite maidens and stick-thin daughters of the most obscure nobles with elbows like razor blades all vying for the position of Princess and future Queen. It was not a pleasant prospect. After the last few conscious hours I did not feel like making the long journey home just yet. Perhaps we would travel to Minas Tirith soon enough, but no further for now. The human city had always seemed to relax me. When it wasn't under siege, of course. "I'll leave you two alone." He said, with a grin that promised an ulterior motive Luckily, Yuna didn't see or even appear to hear him. Her gaze was focussed on her nails, picking irritably at the ones broken, no doubt by the weeks' events. She was thinking about something. Something which I knew she had no intention of sharing with me. Again, I wondered if she'd heard what I said before…

"Why did you come after me?" She asked the second the door clicked shut. "My horse was gone, my belongings were gone, what was the possibility that I'd been kidnapped or something?" The demanding note in her voice was forced. She was confused, but didn't want to show it.

"Because. You never said goodbye." It was true. Had she said goodbye, I probably would have tried to stop her from going, but if she went anyway, I would have left her alone. Maybe. I was not sure I would have been able to. She smirked, probably remembering the words that passed between us that night.

"I said 'goodnight', wasn't that enough?" I shook my head.

"I figured that even if you'd left of your own accord and headed back to Fangorn, when I found you you'd at least tell me the real reason you left."

"So when you found me with someone else, you never for a second thought I'd left of my own accord?" Her eyes crinkled with humourless irony. And the truth was no, I hadn't. For all my years, I'd jumped to the first conclusion I arrived at. I hardly deserved to know. "Legolas, why did you come after me?"

"Why did you leave?" We asked our respective questions just as defiantly. I knew we would never get those answers out of the other. Not for now.

"Why did you risk your life for mine?"

"Why was your life at risk at all?"

"One man's greed and lust for power. With the artefact he made me fetch for him he could have controlled the minds of thousands, rule the entirety of Arda, if he wished."

"What? And this was in the city? Why was such a thing ever created? Your race…they did not seem like warlords…what would be the point in developing such weaponry?"

"Simple. Their thirst for knowledge. They enchanted everything they could, making things faster, better, stronger, whatever they wanted. When they came upon an enchantment so powerful, they couldn't resist exploring, prodding further. And it was their destruction."

"He told you this?"

"Daeguerro? No, it was Arandir, the pure-blooded Avari, or so he says. He gave me a brief history of our people shortly after I landed on his windowsill. Pretty comprehensive. He is not here now, though. Once I told him of what had transpired, he wished to return. He knew the artefact was lost forever, so there was little danger in him going back. He said he wanted to make peace with himself. To find some sort of solace. He left it too quickly to really say goodbye."

"Yuna…what happened to the city? Why did they have to leave? Why did none of them come back?"

"It was that…thing. The second they'd made it they wanted to test it. They didn't know the full extent of what it could do. Soon enough, almost everyone in the place was enslaved, needing only to stop fighting it for a split second to be overcome. No one was controlling it, it was controlling them. Somehow, there were five of them still thinking, most of whom had developed it initially and knew the ideas behind it. One of them managed to secure it within the same structure I retrieved it from. The fields stopped the thing's reach, but he was still subjected to it, and he was one of the last to die as he frenzied. The only way into the structure was with the three keys, which they took with them. My sword, the amulet, and that glove…thing…whatever it was, it saved your life. The last four called for salvation from the eagles, to take them away. Only three made it down, the last fought off the crazed citizens that were too far gone to ever return. Imagine, slaughtering those that just a few hours before had been brothers, sisters, friends, neighbours, good people. Even if he'd survived, would he have wanted to continue living, I wonder?"

"Arandir, Daeguerro's teacher, and your grandmother?"

"They survived, yes. None of them wished for anything like it to happen again, so they agreed not to pass on the secrets of the city, hoping for it to be lost forever. As well as that, never to reproduce, so the bloodlines might be ended with their deaths. But of course, this wasn't the case. Secrets were told, children were born, and here I am." She spread her arms to demonstrate her own existence, occurring through the smallest chance. I smiled faintly, the gravity of what had happened barely sinking in. And then it hit me. She was still alive.

"Yuna, I saw you fall…" I left the question unasked, but she understood, and brought me up to date with the events up to my waking up. The miraculous circumstances that amounted to her survival awed me. I realised how easily she could have died. Again I felt the slightest anger at her complete disregard for her own safety. But I knew that someone like her would never be chastised about it. When questioned, her excuse for sleeping in the chair was that I took up the bed, and she wouldn't want any intruders to see anything that wasn't there. And her excuse for sleeping in my room at all was simply 'I was tired,' before she rose and left, the door swinging closed even as she was halfway down the hall.

A.N. Rai: Sorry for hideous lack of updates. Internet's been dead for past month and a bit. Being cut off from society is not a happy thing. Not my only excuse, but it's good enough for now. Sorry for the bittiness of this chapter, but needed to wrap this portion of the plot up nicely. Ok, not so nicely. Hope to have next chapter done as soon as I can, but the idea of spare time these days seems a bit of a foreign concept. Anyway, Merry Christmas and a happy New Year full of failed diets and unhealthy alcohol consumption.

Oh, oh yes. I have finally managed to produce something that looks even remotely like the Yuna in my mind. Two very quick sketches that probably won't let me show. Remove the , see if that works. Bastards. First is Yuna in what Miss World would call Casual wear. A softer side, I guess. ( one is the freakish Priestess outfit. Every story needs one mind-bogglingly scantily clad female. With huge knockers, yes, that is part of the character description. And ignore the face, that was an afterthought. (