Angel's Fear

Chapter III

The Mysterious Light

The old harbor bell chimed for the tenth time that evening and there wasn't a single beast soldier in sight. Maybe this Hawk guy was trustworthy after all, Duran mulled to himself. No, that couldn't be the case. That desert rat separated him from the only thing possible thing he could trust in this world, his blade. And then when he finally managed to track the thief down he got robbed again, this time his wallet. Or maybe his gambling skills were at fault for that one? Either way, this minor setback was not going to stop him. That bloody wizard was still out there somewhere and now the hunter had a lead. Without further hesitation the mercenary made his way to the gates. However, like most other walled in cities at this hour the drawbridge had been raised in an attempt to keep everything from the average lowly bandit to a grand army from entering. Funny, how it failed miserably in both of these aspects. Duran spied a large watchtower near the gate. If his assumptions were correct the mechanism for opening the gate would be somewhere up there. But a curse escaped his lips as he took notice of the only plausible route to the top of the tower, a very decrepit looking ladder. But even against the preaching of his inner conscience he began his climb up the watchtower. The ladder groaned with every step as the armor-laden warrior inched his way up. The gate mechanism looked badly worn, though he would he guessed it had been this way for a while, the beast army sure didn't help out its plight either. The mercenary grasped his hands onto the well worn handle and gently coaxed the rusty contraption into lowering the drawbridge for him. Then came the issue of getting back to the ground. That ladder didn't look very sturdy, and it barely survived the climb up here, which's to say whether or not it would last for the return trip. But he had no other option save climbing over the wall and jumping into the moat. So testing his luck once again he remounted the ladder. Halfway down the ladder his fears were realized. With little warning the ladder snapped sending the hapless mercenary plummeting towards the cobblestones of the street below him. Whenever he recovered from the shock of the impact he realized that he wasn't in quite as much pain as he originally expected. His armor was dented but that was the extent of it. Good old Forcenian armor, the best he'd ever known. It stood sounder than the watchtower which had become nothing more than a pile of rubble. Surprising though, that the entire city didn't wake up from the implosion of the tower, maybe they were just relishing the fact that they were able to sleep at all after the attack. But either way, the drawbridge was lowered.

The chilling night air greeted Duran as he tread over the drawbridge. But there was something else that was making the hairs on his neck bristle. Something was out there… in those woods that lay before him. He allowed his gauntlets to drift over his sheathe as he crept forward. Just then a howl broke the silence. Duran's eyes darted across the forest's edge for any sign of the beast. He vision focused on two pairs of wolfen eyes staring right back at him, daring him to take one more step. He grasped the hilt of his sword in preparation. Before he could draw the blade, the wolves leapt from the forest and rushed towards the mercenary, fangs bared. The beasts were much swifter than him, grazing the side of his armor with their claws on their first pass. If Duran hadn't sidestepped at the last moment it would have been much worse, those claws seemed almost unnaturally sharp. Taking the only spare moment he had, he drew his sword. His teeth gritted, he stood his ground. There was no other option. The wolves seemed to pivot in midair before they recoiled back towards Duran. The larger of the two wolves leapt forward its claws fully extended. In that one brief moment Duran saw an opening. With a powerful slice he seared the wolf in two. He also managed to bring the sword down just in time to have the other wolf biting his blade in place of his leg. Its fangs failed to pierce the blade, but its jaws were still clamped tightly to the weapon. Duran shot the wolf a look of pure disgust as it hung on his blade. If the wolf really did want a taste of pure steel he would let it have it. With a sharp tug he dislodged the sword from the wolf's mouth shattering its jaw in the process. Turning away from the scene he let out a small chuckle, it felt good to use his sword arm once again. It wasn't as he had feared at all, he still had the same power that he had back in Forcena, in fact he was almost certain that he grown stronger considering how quickly he dispatched the wolves. Still intoxicated by the spirit of battle, he lifted the one weapon he knew that would defeat that crimson mage. The blade was slathered with blood. Duran had seen blood on many occasions; he was a mercenary after all. But as he stared at blood running slowly off of the sword he noticed that it couldn't possibly be the blood of an animal, it was the blood of a man. But that couldn't be, he had just killed two wolves, it didn't make sense. Panicking slightly he returned to the bodies of the wolves. The collars around their necks were the same collars he had seen on the members of the beast army. Just then, the savage truth of his quest hit him square in the face. Continuing on this quest meant taking lives, he only truly intended to take one life, that of the damned wizard but now that was impossible. It truly was a very heavy thought, but it couldn't stop him he had to continue. In an attempt to cleanse his mind of this whole affair he dipped his sword into the moat and watched as the crimson washed away into the tide.

At least an hour had passed since Duran crossed out of Jad into the neighboring forest, and already he was feeling lost. He knew that if he just headed south he would eventually find some small village where he could ask for directions to Wendel. But which way was south? He knew ever since he left Forcena that leaving his compass behind in favor of that extra bottle of sword polish was going to come back to haunt him someday, but he had no idea how soon… and to make things even worse every step he made required more and more effort. Fatigue was setting in quickly. Every single heave of his shoulders as he ambled along made him feel as if he was being crushed by his armor. At this point he could easily have established a new grudge against anyone who ever said anything to the contrary. Adding even further to the frustration, his stomach was becoming mutinous. But it had its reasons; the mercenary hadn't had anything since he had gotten off the ship, besides those drinks at the pub. The rebellion had already started and his stomach would not stop rumbling until he found something to appease it. Duran clutched his stomach in response to his hunger pains and plodded forward his eyes darting around the landscape, desperately searching for anything remotely edible. Fortunately, for Duran this ravenous hunger helped him spot a small nearby patch of mushrooms. His vision narrowed and his fatigue lifted as he rushed headlong towards the fungi. Wasting little time, he picked one of the mushrooms and craned it towards his mouth. But as he was about to devour the piece of fungi, a strange scent passed his nostrils. Gunpowder? Was he really that far gone that his olfactory senses would be playing tricks on him. But still it was enough for him to afford a second glance at the toadstool. It seemed nothing more than an average mushroom, with the possible exception of two glowing eyespots under the cap. Was it just his imagination or did those glowing spots just flash? Yes, they did and it was beginning to seem as if it was blinking a little bit faster with each passing second. And why did it start suddenly feeling warm within his grasp? When he finally realized what exactly he was holding in his hand it was too late. The mushroom exploded with the same force as one of the mage's fireballs. As he sailed through the air, his new friend, unconsciousness, coming to greet him; he found the perfect name for the exploding shroom. In his mind it would be known as the Mushboom.

He awoke from his mushroom induced trauma a few hours later. He had gotten the sleep he had desired though the method was not quite what he had expected. But when he opened his eyes he began to wonder if he was still dreaming. When Duran woke he found that his body was covered in multi-colored spherical and possibly fuzzy objects. His body also seemed to be racked with pain. But these spheres couldn't possibly be cause of these aches, he was still hungry after all. Maybe he had possibly transcended into the Mana Holyland, nah that couldn't be the case. He was still surrounded by the dark foreboding forest. Or maybe he had inhaled one of the Mushboom's spores. Nonetheless, there was something about these objects which drew the mercenary's eyes to them. Even though it would be considered sacrilege for any man to think, the mercenary almost considered these things to be cute. Then one of the spheres began to separate itself from his body. Within moments he could make out ears and a fuzzy tuft of a tail on the creature. It seemed to be some breed of rabbit. But then it turned to face Duran, revealing its little secret. The rabbit's mouth was stretched wide to house an awkwardly large set of dagger like fangs. Every single one of the fangs dripped with blood. Duran's eyes bulged slightly in shock as he eyed the deceptive creature. Panicking, he shot up and shook himself vigorously sending all the hostile, but cuddly rabbits flying in various directions. The mercenary attempted to draw his sword in case of the killer rabbits' appetites not being fully appeased. However, he found this to be a very difficult task; the creatures' fangs had penetrated his quilted leather sleeves. Might it also be added that his stomach hadn't forgiven him yet for his ineptness at providing nourishment. However, these urges helped call forth a rather simple but true formula to Duran's mind.

Killer Rabbits equals Animal equals Meat, which therefore, equals FOOD!

Dropping any physical handicaps, he thrust himself into the situation that his relatively simple mind had conjured before him. He had one mission: to slay every single one of these vile creatures, regardless of how much his heart ached as his sword tore through their soft, colorful fur. The spherical beasts fell one after the other, several being shiskabobbed on Duran's blade. A few moments later his mind recovered from his ravenous rage enough to consider the possibility of cooking the little beasts. Despite his hunger, he was still beyond the notion of sinking his teeth into raw flesh. He browsed through his sack in the hopes of finding some flint. However, that as well had been lost in the shuffle of sword care products. But luckily enough, he had heard of another method of acquiring a campfire. He quickly snatched the two closest twigs he could find. He had heard rumors that soldiers during the battle of Dragon's Hole where successful in heating their encampments without the use of flint. Instead, there were able to use their landscape to their advantage. Now if only he could just rub those two sticks together just fast enough for them to ignite… and if only the sticks wouldn't keep shattering within his grasp. At least 15 minutes and 20 broken twigs later he managed to produce a small spark. This fortunately was just enough to produce a suitable blaze. A campfire roaring behind him, he turned to his recently deceased prey. There wasn't any possible way he would be able to eat the creature with those unwieldy jaws, and the idea of roasted fur did not seem at all palatable. His teeth gritted, he began the brutal but necessary work of carving the hides off of the killer rabbits. On a whim, he decided to toss their pelts into his sack. Now, how to prepare the little beasts. Considering his current circumstances there was only one option. Duran grasped yet another stick and impaled one of the shaved rabbits upon it. From here he held over the fire until its pale white skin turned to a tender golden brown. It wasn't the most appetizing meal he had ever eaten, but it at least managed to quell his voracious appetite slightly. To be completely honest, they had an awful aftertaste.

His stomach full from the toasted rabbits, Duran took a few moments to relax by his bonfire. The heat soothed his aching joints and the flames danced before his eyes. However, his moment of solace didn't last long. A small spurt of embers flitted out of the fire and landed on what appeared to be a somewhat short and sparsely covered tree. Duran however failed to notice until it got to the point where the smoke was choking him from behind. Gagging from the fumes, he turned to find the tree completely engulfed in flame. He briefly considered letting the tree smolder away, catching the entire forest in its wildfire and putting a severe dent in the population of those ghastly rabbits. This notion was quickly shot down when he realized that he also would be trapped in the fire, where he also would become tinder. With a new sense of urgency, he pulled his canteen out of his sack and doused the flame. The blaze was immediately reduced to ashes and steam. On the other hand though, he had just used the last of his water ration. He gave the tree a second glance; the tree hardly looked like a tree anymore. It seemed to be a little bit too flat. Duran waved his gauntleted hand over the supposed tree brushing away the remaining soot. As he swept the ashes away he felt grooves cut deep into the wood. Stepping back he deciphered the message on the signpost which simply stated:

Lakeside Village Astoria, 5 miles, South.

Duran stared at the sign with a slight sense of deliverance rising within him. It was just what he needed, a chance for a nice warm bed and a well cooked meal. This was almost too good to be true. Bah, knowing his luck it probably was. The forest could possibly be driving him mad, this signpost merely a delusion concocted by his revenge-driven psyche. To attempt to confirm this he shook the post vigorously, his vibration test concluded that the signpost was indeed, a signpost. But for some reason, this trial wasn't nearly enough to convince him, so his mind devoid of any trace of rational thought, bidded him to perform another test. This time to prove the authenticity of this guidepost he drove his helmeted head right through it. This time there was no denying the sign's authenticity. The cranial shock and the oaken collar he now wore around the nape of his armor was enough proof.

After a thankfully uneventful five miles of ambling southward, Duran reached the village of Astoria. He was expecting the village to be merely a quiet little community where he could stop at the inn, possibly have a nice meal and then move onto Wendel without any further setbacks. However there was something unsettling about this town, the silence which surrounded him seemed to be forced in some way. As his hand impulsively hovered over his sword once again, a man with a tightly wrapped turban on his head emerged from one of the small shops along the side of the causeway. Duran instantly recognized the man's attire as that of a merchant, but what would a merchant possibly be doing wandering the streets like this? But before Duran had a chance to find out for himself the merchant caught sight of him.

"Aha, do my eyes deceive me? You sir, are you not a traveler?" the merchant inquired as he quite literally danced his way towards the exhausted swordsman. Before Duran even had a chance to answer, the merchant made the international tradesman signal for big spender off into the distance. "You appear to be in need of some supplies. Allow me to be of service." The merchant stated cordially as he seized Duran by the arm and began to forcefully escort him into the town square.

"Hey, um… why are you….?" Duran attempted to inquire.

"Why, you ask? My dear sir a goddess has descended upon this town and she bequeathed me with a simple message. That message was sell, sell, sell. Of course with these goddess given prices any traveler would gladly part a mere donation from his wallet, in exchange for these extravagant accessories." By the time the merchant had made his pitch they had reached the marketplace. Surrounding him several other merchants had fabricated a makeshift marketplace, complete with shabbily erected stands which threatened to collapse from the burden of their wares. Some of the merchants even went to the trouble of carving up a few villager-esque mannequins to create the illusion of business. "Now if you would look to your left sir…. Oh wait, may I ask what is your name, O valued consumer?" The merchant whirled around, his hands rubbing themselves together with eager greed.

"It's Duran, but I'm a little short…." He was cut off again.

"Lovely, now Sir Duran if you would turn to your left we are offering our highest quality weapons, guaranteed sharp, for an unbelievable 75 off. Duran's eyes lit up as they skimmed over the blades, yet they quickly dulled back to their normal shade upon further scrutiny. The merchants had attempted to lure him in with the illusion of overtly shiny blades, fashioned with handles made of pyrite. A connoisseur of swords such as himself would never fall for….. Wait a second was that the claymore he wanted? Yes, hanging precariously yet proudly on a long chain was the claymore that he desired from his swordsman catalogue, and it was 75 off.

"I'd like to make…." Cut off yet again.

"Now if you'd follow me in this general direction you'll find our armor section. Whatever you're looking for, tanned leather armor, top grade chain mail, or even polished plate armor, we've got it right here. If you act now you'll even have a chance to partake in our special offer, for a limited time only you can get the piece of your choice engraved with a commemerative saying in memorial to the goddess's arrival in our fair town free of charge." As the merchant stated this last bit of his pitch he pointed to a large shield which had been embossed with gleaming crimson letters which read: I SAW THE LIGHT!

"Hhrmm…. Excuse me, I would like…" Duran failed once again to get the merchant's attention.

"And over here we have Astoria's finest home brewed ale. Guaranteed to have you out harassing or embarrassing the neighbors within five sips. Now for only 10 luc a tankard. But if that's enough to quench your thirst, we have honey drink for only 20 luc. Need I mention just how convenient these little vials are?" The merchant pitched onward showing no signs of coming to the end of his little rant. He'd made his choice there was no reason for him to continue listening to this peddler ramble on and on about his second rate goods. He had to take a stand.

"MY DEAR SIR, I HAVE SEEN ENOUGH!" Duran barked out in a tone which would have made his drill instructor leap out of his breastplate. For the first time that evening the merchant actually heard his client.

"My apologies, Sir Duran, what will ye be wanting then." The merchant replied resuming his greedy hand ritual. His mind set on his purchase, the mercenary pointed his gauntleted finger. "You would like the entire weapon stall sir? A fine choice but how are you going to carry it all?" the merchant asked.

"Not the stand, I would like that." Duran stated as his eyes stared hopefully at the claymore.

"You mean this, good sir. I didn't think this was your style." The merchant inquired as he pulled an oversized as well as overly adorned spear out from behind the stand.

"Not that…. A little bit to the left." The mercenary corrected.

"Well, I fail to see what need you would have for this, but if you insist." The merchant commented as he fetched a pocket knife from the table.

"I'll just have the claymore." Duran groaned giving in, he would have had other choice words for this peddler but the unfortunate memories of Aunt Stella's surprisingly rigid hand across his face, was enough incentive for him to remain quiet.

"A wise choice Sir Duran but are you sure you can handle it?" The peddler asked between grunts as he removed the claymore from the stand.

"Yeah, I can handle it…"Duran spoke smugly as he lifted the claymore over his shoulder making it look as if the sword weighed nothing at all. However he would never admit that his arm felt like it might collapse. "You were saying."

"Now about the payment good sir…" the merchant slithered off his tongue as he removed an abacus from his robes.

"I have it right here." The mercenary replied knowing that he was moments away from being bestowed with a truly knightly sword. The wallet slipped out with no resistance whatsoever.

"That will be 200 luc Sir Duran…" The merchant said as he hovered over Duran's wallet poised for payment. The merchant's eyes squinted in preparation for the glow of the coins, however the golden gleam that he had anticipated did not reside within that wallet, only dust and lint remained.

"You… You…You're broke!" the merchant stammered most likely enraged by the fact that he had wasted a sales pitch he'd spent four hours that morning trying to memorize on this vagrant. Duran was feeling similarly enraged, had his lust for oversized shiny swords caused him to forget his current state and mission? That was most likely the case.

"Alright, pack it up. There's always tomorrow." The merchant ordered dejectedly towards the other merchants whom with a few swift kicks successfully dismantled each of their stands. "I'll have that back now sir." The merchant stated as he wrenched the claymore from Duran's grasp and clumsily flung it back onto the stand. The stand however did not survive the impact. As the merchants set about to tidy up the town square, Duran decided that it would be best to leave them to their work. While checking the next block to make sure he wouldn't be ambushed again he spotted a sign hanging above the street corner. The sign was inscripted with three letters that he wished to see; I, N, and N. But as he drew himself up the stairs of the inn he took a moment to consider his situation. If he couldn't afford that claymore how was he supposed to pay off his stay at the inn? Finding it best to not dwell on his lack of funds he reached the top of the steps. Maybe if he got lucky he might be able to sleep in the dog kennel.

"Greetings, have you any interest in a room?" The innkeeper inquired as Duran stepped up to the counter.

"Yes, I'd like to stay but do you accept anything besides luc?" Duran inquired.

"Humph… another vagrant eh?" the innkeeper grunted from beneath his moustache. Before the innkeeper could even answer the mercenary began rummaging through his sack in the hopes of finding something he could pawn. In his haste one of the rabbit pelts landed on the counter.

"Blimey… could it be?" the innkeeper replied in shock as he took notice of the saliently jawed carcass lying there. "Is that a rabite pelt, sir?"

"Rabite?" Duran asked confoundedly. Was that really what they called those ferocious beasts, how fitting.

"Yes rabites, whole bloomin forest is named after em. Never thought I'd see one like this." The innkeeper replied losing that obviously fake business tone. "Anychance I can buy that off yeh?

"Yeah, only if you take all these too." Duran stated as he poured at least fifteen more rabite carcasses onto the table.

"Amazin, you killed all those. You can rest here for as long as you like." The innkeeper declared his eyes glowing towards his guest and the pile of pelts in front of him.

"Thanks, but why would you want these pelts?" Duran wondered aloud.

"Cousin Artie had his arm chewed clean off by those beasts, jus my way of getting revenge is all; thought they'd look good on the mantle." The innkeeper explained.

"Yeah, sure they would…." Duran trailed off.

"What's yer name stranger? I can't just let a guy like you have a room without askin that." Stated the innkeeper.

"It's Duran... I'm a mercenary from Forcena." He replied simply.

"Forcena huh, what brings ya out to these parts? The innkeeper asked.

"I heard a rumor that there's a priest in Wendel who can make me really tough." Duran stated.

"Why would ya need it? Yer pretty tough as it is." The innkeeper replied honestly.

"I am seeking a man in a red cloak, when I last fought him I couldn't lay a finger on him. I cannot rest until he is lying in his grave." Duran stated, his eyes reminiscing coldly. "Just wondering do you know anything about those lights the merchants outside were going on about?" Duran asked returning to a normal tone.

"Oh, those damned merchants, yeah they've been carrying on this little rumor about how these lights we've been havin over our lake lately is the goddess sendin down a messenger. They aren't the only ones sayin that either. Old lady downstairs won't stop sayin that's it's a sign of some kind of disaster. It's just a bunch of bull though, I'm keepin this inn open lights or no lights." The innkeeper said with a surprising vigor. "Now then do you want to meet my cousin Artie?" asked the innkeeper.

"Uhm… it's not necessary…" Duran replied.

"Oh, it's nothing at all. Come on out Art." The innkeeper chuckled. A few moments a tall man with a stump for a right arm appeared around the corner. "Say hello to Artie, he'll be your chef this evening." Said the innkeeper as he beamed.

"My chef? Uh……" Duran stammered as he stared the remains of Artie's arm perplexed at how the man could possibly cook anything.

But the one-armed man could whip up some incredible cuisine as well as provide quite a show in the process. Somehow Artie had meticulously managed to condition his right foot to serve as his right arm. His hunger thoroughly satisfied by the evening meal he drifted to his room. The bed greeted him openly as strode into his room. Duran accepted its offer not even bothering to take off his armor before collapsing atop it.

Meanwhile while Duran rested peacefully, a small glimmering light emanated over the lake nearby and for the first time that week the light took its leave from its temporary residence and flitted over to the adjacent town. As it flew it flickered past various windows seeming as if it were peering into them, searching desperately for some lost artifact. As it floated by the inn's window it shattered the nocturnal shadows within with its unnatural light. It also found a way to permeate into Duran's dream.

"But Auntie… I don't want to train today." Duran murmured as his dreams represented him with the memory of Stella opening the curtains in his room letting the sunlight envelop him, forcing him to wake up. His eyes cracked open to see the odd, almost emerald shaded light filter through his window. For a brief moment his mind considered the possibility that this was merely a continuation of his dream but his instincts were saying otherwise. With a sudden rush of energy coursing through him the mercenary bolted to the window, just in time to catch the luminary floating towards the forest. Hastily snatching his equipment he dashed out of the inn. He paid no heed to anything as he fled, the inn's front door was knocked off its hinges as he barged through it .The stairs were entirely forgotten as he leapt straight from the deck onto the earth below. Doggedly, he tailed the light through the forest, though he had no idea why. Was this what they called destiny? His feet seemed to be guided forward by some unknown force, a force which knew no fatigue. His armor felt weightless, his chief concern was only that of the emerald light which hovered before him. There very well could have been a hundred rabites nipping at his heels, it wouldn't have slowed him. "What is this light?" he asked himself countless times as he sprinted forward. Just as Duran considered his final answer the light disappeared through an overgrown hedge. Not bothering to slow down in the slightest, the mercenary raised his sword and hacked through the hedge whilst still in mid-run.

What awaited him beyond the hedge was a clearing filled with moonlit flowers, adjacent to which lay Astoria Lake. The emerald light gently tumbled into the flowers letting its glow subside. Duran wasn't far behind as he stooped over the patch where the glow diminished. Carefully brushing aside the grass with his gauntlets, his eyes focused upon a sight that could only be conjured from the heavens. There was an incredibly tiny woman resting peacefully on the petals of a sterling rose. But wait, this woman had small iridescent wings, could she possibly be a fairy? No it couldn't be… such creatures only existed in stories told by his aunt, if they lived at all they would be beings from the holyland. Yet somehow here she laid, her breaths slowly dwindling with each passing second. As he gazed transfixed at this minute being something snapped within Duran's mind. If he let this creature die now, he would be killing a manifestation of his own destiny, it had to be…. Right? It was just so unusual that their had to be some form of otherworldly message to this. With great care he gently tilted the leaf downward allowing the fairy to tumble into his palm. He could feel her plodding heartbeat against his skin as it continued to drift down towards nothingness.

"Hey come on, don't die on me now. Pull yourself together!" He called out to the fairy. Somehow, despite how unorthodox and simplistic his way of phrasing it was, his message reached the fairy. Miraculously he could feel her heart return to a steady rhythmic pulse. Her almost microscopic limbs began to squirm in his hands as she tried desperately to stand. Her eyelids quivered open revealing two sapphire-like pupils that were just as blue as the gown she wore. With a quick shove she righted herself, only to fall back to her knees again in shock at the sight of her savior.

"Who might you be? What land are you from?" The fairy questioned shaking at the sight of this giant who was grasping her.

"Oh, my name's Duran. I'm a warrior from Forcena." He answered simply.

"Why thank you sir… Duran." The fairy replied, as she dusted herself off. She swiveled around in his hand taking in her surroundings. It seemed much like the Holyland to her, in fact these flowers wouldn't be out of place at all up there. But has her thoughts began to rest with her homeland a sudden chill shot through her. She remembered why she had arrived here. She spun around and faced her gigantic caretaker and sent him a piercing glance, perhaps he might be the one…

"I don't have much choice in the matter now… I guess you'll do." The fairy stated smirking back at her captor.

"What?"

"Oh, I mean could you please take me to Wendel? I must talk to the Priest of Light." The fairy implored.

"That's no problem, I was heading there myself. But why would you need to see the priest?"

"The fate of the Mana Holyland is looking dire, if anyone must know it should be him." The fairy spoke quivering at the thought of her homeland.

"The Holyland… You mean you're from…" as he said this an explosion sounded far off in the distance. Within moments the crystal clear waters of Lake Astoria glimmered red as a great blaze burned in the distance. With the fairy still in his palm he sprinted to the water's edge. That fire was at just the right distance and direction to be…

"Can you fly fairy?" Duran posed.

"My wings have suffered through my journey, but I may be able to rest in your head for a moment." The fairy replied.

"In my….head?" Duran stumbled over this concept as would have just about any other man. However he had no time to protest.

"Fine then, but how…" Before the swordsman was able to finish this comment he was bathed in an unnaturally brilliant gold light. Showered in this golden aura he was stupefied, only able to stare silently as the fairy faded into a shadow. From that point he was only treated to a brief image of her and a few sparks as she launched herself headlong into his cranium, leaving only a sensation not unlike being splashed with honey drink.

"Alright then, let's be off, shall we?" echoed a feminine voice.

"Wha…. Where'd that voice come from!" Duran stammered.

"Up here." The fairy stated.

"Up where?" was Duran's reply. Just then he sensed an odd thump as the fairy pratfell.

"Allow me to state this once again; I'm currently taking up residence within your mind. If you hear any voices they will be me. Now let's go, there may still be time." The fairy stated urgently.

"Yes ma'am." Duran complied. With similar haste to which he had entering the clearing he departed it. He sprinted through the forest paths, his mind so focused on vengeance that he managed to drown out the fairy's comments as to how roomy his cranium appeared. It didn't take him long to arrive at the burning gates of Astoria.

He had never seen a blaze of this magnitude before, flames curled into the sky spurting embers all around him. The plaza had become a funeral pyre stacked with the bodies of merchants. There were only ashes remaining where the inn once stood. Desperate thoughts rushing through his already taxed mind, he dove headlong into the inn's flames in the hopes that maybe somebody had survived this massacre. Ignoring the pain as burning rubble scorched the leather of his gauntlets; he dug through the debris in a frenzy. His efforts were all for naught, the fire had already consumed the innkeeper and Artie, stealing their flesh and leaving only their bones in a smoldering tomb which reeked of roasted rabites. Turning away from the corpses he pulled his sword from it's sheathe and plunged it into the scorched earth beside him.

"Those sub-human bastards… How could they?" Duran growled.

"There's nothing you can do for them now, Duran we must press on to Wendel." The fairy asserted as comfortingly as she could. A solitary tear rolling down his cheek, Duran clutched the sword by its hilt and ripped it from the soil. The flame's reflection on that filthy blade would burn on forever in his memory.

"Such righteous fury, perhaps he is the true Mana knight after all." Pondered the fairy aloud as she rested on her cranial throne. "Perhaps…."

Author Notes: This chapter took entirely too long to finish, and yet I have nobody to blame but myself. I've had a really hectic schedule these past couple months now... In fact it may have been one of the worst years of my life, as my grandmother passed away last November. In fact I dedicate this chapter to her memory. Also to clarify, the equation was originally an equation, complete with equal signs and everything, however the editor does not believe in such mathematical terms. ugh...

For all those who reviewed: I thank you and I will respond to you shortly. Hopefully this next chapter will be up slightly more expediently. I will accept all forms of review, be it praise, flame, or completely random statements.