Startropics: Follow The Southern Cross

by Erico

The time: June, 1990. The place: Coralcola Island. After defeating Zoda and saving the Argonian race, what is there left for Michael Jones to do?

5. The Cosmic Interlude

STARTROPICS: FOLLOW THE SOUTHERN CROSS

By Eric 'Erico' Lawson

CHAPTER FOUR: THE COSMIC INTERLUDE

"The Argonians were an unlikely bunch to traverse the stars; unlike other spacefaring cultures, they came not for riches, wealth, conquest or growth. This distinguished them from so many other countless travelers, so much so in fact that a name was given to these explorers of the galaxy which they were so infatuated with. In Argonian legend, a few names hold great importance. Sellarus, the Starseer, and Ellini are the most recognizable, but growing out of their shell, another became added to the annals. Carrying the might of the Argonian legacy into the stars, the Starseekers would extend the knowledge and presence of Argonian culture and influence wherever it might flourish…Beyond that and the colonies of civilization spread and known to the public, the records of the Starseeker's lesser explorations remain sealed by royal decree, making one wonder…just what did that first generation of explorers find in some remote corner of the galaxy? More importantly, were their lesser known exploits hidden to allow some modicum of privacy…or was there something that they found out in the reach of the stars that they were trying to keep locked away?"

Rylian Karashome, Argonian graduate student

---

Coralcola Island

June 27th, 1990 A.D.

7:01 A.M.

Sleep. Pure, unedited, untouched sleep. The kind of sleep that nothing, save a thunderbolt outside the window or somebody tickling your feet could wake you from early. That particular kind of sleep hadn't visited Dr. Jones' laboratory in a long time, but now it had.

Steve Jones smiled gently at the slumbering boy, sprawled out in his bed without a care in the world, soundlessly dreaming the morning away. He didn't know how many nights his nephew had been unable to catch the recommended amount of downtime, but he did know that seeing the boy actually accomplish it for a change was a welcome sight.

"Take care, nephew. Keep watch over things here while I'm gone." Dr. Jones said quietly. Mike made little indication he'd heard the voice, but that didn't matter to his uncle, who stepped back outside and closed the door behind him.

Giskard was already waiting in the kitchen, his hands fondling an object while his eyes read a scrap of paper with a hastily scribbled message on it. When Dr. Jones reached him, the boy had already inhaled breakfast; yet another dose of the instant noodles they'd feasted on the night before in their quest to decode more of the messages inside of the archaeologists' notebooks.

"Good morning, Giskard." Dr. Jones said kindly, pouring himself a cup of coffee. "Ready to go?"

"I was born ready." Giskard replied, his eyes not looking up from the page.

The archaeologist took a sip of his drink. "What do you have there?"

"Something from Mike…He apparently thought I might need it." Giskard opened his hand up, revealing a bright red yo-yo that the good doctor had seen before.

Dr. Jones lifted an eyebrow. "That's Mike's island yo-yo…the one that the chief gave him, as I recall."

Giskard pushed the note across the table, still marveling at the object in his hands. Glancing through his thick bifocals, Steve found the last message Mike had left for them before turning in for bed.

Giskard-

This little wonder's pulled me through more than one scrap in my own journeys. I want you to have it when you and my Uncle go on your own; maybe you'll be able to keep him out of trouble for a change.

-Mike

"So that's it then." Dr. Jones exhaled, folding the note up. "It appears the yo-yo has been passed on to you."

"Momentarily." Giskard noted, slipping his middle finger through the loop. "The note seemed to imply the loan wasn't permanent. But do you really think we'll need it?"

Dr. Jones shrugged. "It helped my nephew a lot in his travels…even without any monsters or dangers from the alien's influence to face, it may bring us a great deal of good luck. And I'm always up for that."

Giskard mulled over that in his head for a bit, then threw it up into the air with a backhand slide he'd seen the Jones boy do many a time.

It seemed to hang in midair forever.

---

June 28th, 1990 A.D

10:47 A.M.

The yo-yo finished its freespin and snapped back crisply into Giskard's waiting hand, the slap of polished hardwood against skin a firm reminder of the destructive power it was capable of unleashing in the right hands. The Argonian boy shook his head at it, pulling the loop from his middle finger and sliding it back into his pants pocket.

He glanced up at the sun, cresting in its morning arc. "Huh. Already, eh?" His vision came back from the bright orb of heat and light, staring along the horizon…

It had taken him a while to get used to the sight of nothing but open sea, but once he'd made it past that obstacle, their first day out had been uneventful. While Nav-Com drove at his own version of a leisurely pace, Dr. Jones and Giskard had been free to look over the archaeologists' field notebooks again, Giskard able and eagerly willing to translate. Of course, the doctor had made certain allowances for frivolous activities such as naps for himself, and topside ocean gazing for his new co-explorer. This was one such break, and Giskard had learned to appreciate them. His mind was beginning to feel more active these days, old synapses about his Argonian language not fired for weeks at long last brought to the forefront.

He frowned and stared a little harder; he could just begin to make out the faint outline of some sort of landmass in the distance, and they were rapidly speeding towards it. "I didn't think we'd make it there this fast…" Giskard mused, opening the hatch to Sub-C's interior and climbing down the ladder.

"Doctor Jones, we're coming up on some land." Giskard announced, halfway down the ladder. The archaeologist had his nose buried in a book written by an Earth author by the name of Tom Clancy; Some work of fiction or other. The man pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose and glanced at the boy.

"Yes? So?"

"I didn't think we'd make it to Howduyadocola this fast, is all." Giskard stated flatly.

The archaeologist chuckled a bit and put a bookmark into his thriller. "Good heavens, no. We're still half a day out yet from there…but I can understand the confusion. We're coming up on the island of Bellcola right now, which is not far from Howduyadocola and the island maze. That's the landmass you're seeing."

"Huh." Giskard said, shrugging. "My apologies for bothering you then."

The archaeologist looked at his watch, harrumphing. "That late already? I could have sworn it was only 9:30…well, this may actually be a good thing. It's been a while since I visited Chief Bellcola anyways, and I'll just bet, Giskard, that they'd be willing to spot us some lunch."

Giskard's face brightened at that. "You mean an actual lunch? As opposed to this stuff we've been eating?"

Dr. Jones blushed a bit at the comment. "Yes, yes…I do suppose it takes a while to get used to prepackaged meals. They keep the longest, though, which is why I have them. But yes, lunch." The doctor turned and tapped Nav-Com on the shoulder, prompting the robot to turn its head about and blink at him.

"How may I assist you, Dr. Jones?" The robot chirped.

"Make an addendum to our course, Nav-Com. We'll be stopping at Bellcola for lunch."

"…Layover at Bellcola. Course laid in. Confirm?"

"Confirm." Dr. Jones smiled.

"…Affirmative. Sub-C will be arriving at Bellcola within thirty-five minutes at cruising speed." Nav-Com said.

"The miracles of modern technology." Dr. Jones said, pulling his glasses off and cleaning them with his thumb. "It should be interesting to see how they're all doing."

"Why? Would things change much in the few weeks it's been?"

"Not to them." Dr. Jones replied, easing back in his seat and picking his book back up.

"How's that?"

"Time in these islands…its moves at its own pace." Dr. Jones answered, a satisfied glow coming to his face. "I don't know if you can make much of a distinction, but…well, like Mike, I'm used to cities and large masses of people. Coming out here, it's easier to lose yourself. To me, a few weeks can be a long time…but to these people, who live by the old clock made by the planet? A drop in the bucket. It's just different out here, is all."

Giskard thought about that for a moment, his dull expression returning. "No wonder I had to get off of Coralcola."

Dr. Jones laughed at that, and despite himself, Giskard cracked a small smile.

It seemed a good way to conclude a trip.

---

Coralcola Island

11:01 A.M.

Out in the harbor of Coralcola, the fishermen in their boats were having a difficult time netting the big catches they were so accustomed to. Not that they were worried about starving; the bounty of the sea was great within the sacred boundaries of the islands of the southern cross, as they had always been. Still, it was annoying, and every so often, the source of the fish's perturbance would splash far too close to their boats and nets for comfort, even spraying them with salty water once or twice. When that happened, they would turn and shout some halfhearted threats and grumblings at the two people on the shore.

It had been a few minutes since the last big splashdown; Baboo figured it was finally safe to start pulling in his net. Leaning down low in the boat to not disturb it, he reeled in his lines, grinning at the two fish, long and fat, wriggling in his trap. He reached his hand down, ready to grasp ahold of them under their gills and slap them into his catch bucket on the boat…

Only to have a grapefruit sized object slam down inches away from his hand, plunging the net's bulk downwards and allowing his fish to escape. To add insult to injury, the splash from the projectile nailed him directly in the face, causing him to sputter and rub furiously at his eyes before he turned back towards the laboratory nearby and shook his fist. "BLAST YOU, MIKE!!"

On the shore of the laboratory's jutting outcrop, Mike slung the baseball bat over his shoulder and put his other hand up above his eyes, shading them to get a better view. "Did you see where that one went?"

Marlin guffawed, lightly tossing a rounded and hardened juvenile coconut shell from one hand to the other. "From the looks of it, you nailed Baboo with the backblast. Nice hit, Mike."

The Seattle native allowed himself a grin, taking in a long whiff of the salty sea air. "It was a good pitch too. You're really starting to improve here, you know that? I was just saying that before, but I felt some heat off of that last one."

"Aah, stoppit." Marlin retorted, hefting his next pitch. "Let's see if you're still as conciliatory when I strike you out!"

"You just try it, Marl." Mike shot back, readying his batting stance. "We'll see who's still the master here."

Their eyes met, Mike's fingers gripping around the shaft of his Louisville Slugger and Marlin carefully twirling the coconut about in his hands to find the best grip.

Then came the pitch…the swing…and the unmistakable whiff of a missed ball.

The coconut flew on, but the two boys looked at each other, and Marlin cracked a grin. "Strike one."

It finally hit the ground, bouncing along in the fine white sand until it came to a halt at somebody's feet. Mike, turned around as he was, didn't notice the motion. Marlin glanced up and finally stood erect, his former grin replaced by an open smile. "Hey, Mica!"

Mike blinked a few times, but pulled himself out of his batting stance and turned around.

Standing in her sunfaded red dress, Mica rolled the coconut baseball along the bottom of her sandal, shaking her head at them as she smiled back. "Don't you two ever give up?"

"Oh, you know Marlin." Mike replied, scratching at the back of his head. "If he isn't cracking a joke, he's trying to crack my record."

"For what? Number of swings needed to hit the broadside of a barn?" Mica jested, walking up to him and punching him lightly in the arm. Marlin guffawed at the gesture, and even Mike couldn't help but smile. "Say Marlin, I need to talk to Mike for a bit. Would you mind if I borrowed him?"

"It's all right with me, Princess Mica." Marlin shrugged. "At this point, he's here to cheer me on more than anything."

"Oh, is that so?" Mike asked, lifting an eyebrow. "I don't suppose you could pitch to yourself and try lobbing some out into the harbor for a while then?" To finish his statement, Mike hefted his bat at the boy, who caught it easily.

Marlin stared at it for a bit, then held it in one hand and picked up another coconut with ease in the other. Throwing his coconut baseball up into the air, the Argonian quickly switched his hands into his batting grip and took a powerful swing at it. With a resounding crack, the coconut flew straight out for seventy five feet and splashed into the harbor. Satisfied, Marlin turned back to Mike and gave him a thumbs up. "Get outta here, coach. I'll be fine."

Mike beamed at him. "That's my guy. Well, come on Mica. I was feeling thirsty anyhow, so you might as well join me for some water in the kitchen."

"Sounds like a plan." Mica said easily.

Inside the kitchen, Mike reached up to the cabinet and pulled down two glasses, moving over to the sink. "So what did you need to talk to me about, Mica?" He asked, turning the tap on.

In response, he felt Mica come up from behind him and wrap her arms around his stomach, leaning her head on his shoulder. He jumped for a moment, but relaxed and sunk into her hug.

"Just thought I'd say good morning the right way." Mica whispered, a coy tone seeping into her voice.

Mike laughed a bit at that, recovering enough to finish pouring the waters. "It's appreciated. Did you sleep well?"

"Haven't had a nightmare since…"

"Since two days ago?"

"…Yeah."

"Funny thing…I haven't had a nightmare since…well, then, either." Mike began, cutting himself off in embarrassment soon after. "It's nice to finally be able to sleep again."

He turned himself around, kissing her on the nose before handing her one of the glasses of water. "Thank you."

Mica took the glass in her hands and stepped back from him, taking a long draw. "For what I don't know…but you're welcome all the same."

Mike finished half of the glass off and ran an arm across his forehead. "Marlin's starting to give me a real workout now. His pitching skills are shaping up, but he's got a natural talent for swinging the bat; more than I have, really."

"Is that such a bad thing?" Mica smiled, taking a step back and glancing him over. "You can't be the best at everything."

"So what's on your mind?" Mike asked, setting his glass to the side and looking at her. "You seemed a little nervous when you came by today."

Mica's jawline tensed up a bit, and she exhaled. "Yes, I suppose I am…It's just Ezilian, is all."

Mike blinked, leaning up against the counter. "What's going on?"

"He's been quiet ever since I discovered him with Amethyst two nights ago." Mica mused, her voice growing shy. "I can't help but get the feeling he's planning something."

The Seattle native frowned at that, tapping his fingers against the side of the countertop. "Let him plan. He's already played his cards, and ruined it for himself."

"He brought our arrangement to annulment, yes…" Mica nodded unsteadily, "But he was never thrilled at the prospect of you…with me."

"Tell me about it." Mike grumbled. "At least he's stayed out of my way since I got back; that's made life easier. For the both of us."

Mica bit her lip. "…Maybe he was right, though. About you and me."

Mike's frown deepened. "…Mica, what are you saying?"

The Princess shook her head. "…Ezilian is stubborn. He's manipulative, conniving, and always looking to advance his interests. But…if the others knew…I don't know how they'd take it."

Mike mulled over that in his head. "…Who do you think, outside of Ezilian, has a good idea?"

"…Giskard knew, just by looking at me." Mica admitted. "And Amethyst…she's Ezilian's chosen, so she'd know. But the others…probably not."

"So that just narrows down your concern to Rozlyn, Bakusian, and Marlin." Mike surmised. "I don't think Rozlyn would be too upset myself…she seems too young to understand that sort of thing in the first place. Bakusian? I don't know. But Marlin…no, he takes things in stride."

"…All the same, I still worry…"

"Just what are you afraid of?" Mike pressed, concern growing in his voice as he walked over to her and set his hands on her shoulders. "What the others think? Let them think what they will, they might surprise you. Don't worry about them. Beyond that, just what are you afraid of?"

Mica bit her lip, stubbornly silent.

"Tell me." Mike pleaded.

"…Nothing." Mica finally said, brushing her hair out of her eyes. "Just irrational doubts and fears."

Mike drew her into a hug, leaning her head against his shoulder. "Thanks to you, I no longer worry about my nightmares. As long as I'm here, I'll protect you from yours."

It was so easy for Mica to melt back into the embrace Mike held her in. She closed her eyes and hugged him back, her elfin ears blocking out everything else but the soothing presence of his heartbeat.

Somewhere in the back of her head, a familiar dark laugh tried to assert itself.

She blocked it out with the pounding of Mike's heart, and pulled him closer. Hoping…praying…

That she was wrong.

---

In the gigantic hut of the Island Chief, Hapo Omoy sat nervously on a makeshift weight scale, staring at the jagged rock needle that pointed to the center balance. Absentmindedly, a hand rubbed at his protruding belly, trying to ignore its baleful calls. "Well?" He asked nervously. "Do I pass?"

"In time, dear brother." Bana replied, her piercing eyes glancing back at her sibling before she looked back to the scale. "When we began, you measured at twenty eight stones…The spirits will not be sated until you make twenty five at least." She glanced over at the other end of the scale, shaking her head as it refused to balance out with twenty five rounded beach stones of similar size resting in the other sides' basket. With a hint of frustration, she picked up another stone and dumped it into the load, watching it swing down a bit farther, yet still refuse to go even. Another one, bringing the total to twenty seven, proved just as ineffective.

With a very audible harrumph, she tossed on the twenty-eighth stone and balanced the scale at last. "Twenty-eight." She said bitterly. "Well, I can see you've made no improvement at all."

Redfaced, Hapo climbed down from the scale's basket, standing upright as the stones sank to the floor with an audible thump. "I…suppose that means I'm still on the diet then."

Sighing in disgust, Bana stomped towards the door, pausing at the dining table to pick up a loose tropical carrot and chuck it at him. He caught it just before it could bounce off of his nose and leave a bruise. "Just so you know, I take to this diet under protest!" He called out after her. She paid him little mind, and continued to stomp off.

The Island Chief sighed, walking over to his ceremonial chair and collapsing into it. He paused for a moment, looking at the carrot he still had in his hand. "She may be able to talk to the spirits, but I doubt that they told her my waistline was a problem." He looked at the carrot for a moment, then scoffed at it. "All these years later, and she still tries to boss me around." Angrily, he bit into the vegetable, gnawing at it in an attempt to vent his frustrations.

A head poked in through the curtain that served as the door for his prestigious hut. Baboo blinked a few times, then looked inside. "Am I disturbing you, Chief Omoy?"

Hapo swallowed down his mouthful of carrot and waved him in with the bitten off vegetable. "Not at all, Baboo. Come in and have a seat."

"Thank you." Baboo noted gratefully, walking in and leaning himself back into one of the chairs at the dining table nearby. He looked about for a bit, then stared at the makeshift scale that Bana had fashioned. "Well, it seems you had to do another weigh-in today. How did that go?"

"Horrible, according to our great shaman." Hapo grumbled, taking another bite of his carrot. "It's going to take some time to lose as much weight as she wants me to."

"Well, at least she put an end to your snacking." Baboo chuckled. "I heard about your little deal with Bakusian that she discovered."

The Island Chief looked shocked. "How did you hear about that?"

"Oh, the entire village was talking about it at dinner yesterday." Baboo explained, leaning on an arm. "We found it quite funny…nonetheless, your sister is bound and determined to see you go through with this."

"There are no secrets on this little island." Hapo complained, shaking his head. "There are days I really do get annoyed by that."

"You get bothered easily." Baboo pointed out. "Is what why you overeat?"

He gained an aggravated look for his troubles. "Was there a reason for your visit, or did you come to poke fun at me all day?" Hapo inquired, his impatience apparent.

"…Well, I'm certain I had a reason back when I started." Baboo began, scratching at his head. "…Oh, as long as I'm here... I was going to ask if you might talk to Mike about cutting back on the baseball practice when we're trying to fish."

"Why?" Hapo asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"His version of batting practice is scaring the fish out of the harbor. It's also using up a lot of coconuts."

The Island Chief chuckled at that. "Still training Marlin, is he? He shows remarkable vigor and dedication for a boy his age."

"Do you say that because of what he did to save his uncle and the Argonians, or the baseball practice?"

"Both, of course." Hapo shrugged. "Or neither. It doesn't matter, really. Still, I feel as though the Argonians are settling in well these days."

"Well, they do have each other…and they have Mica to look up to." Baboo mentioned, rubbing at his chin. "That must help them. I've heard good things from the villagers about them, also. Teycho has been taking care of Bakusian, for instance, and that boy has found a talent in cooking."

"It's a good talent to have." Hapo agreed. He looked at Baboo for a moment, then smiled and shook his head. "And the others…You hear good things about them as well, I assume?"

"Of course." Baboo nodded. "Mica, especially. Some of our boys have grown quite fond of her, and they do love to talk."

Hapo laughed a little at that, his belly quivering from the effort. "Aah, to be young." He finally spoke, exhaling with a wistful sigh. "The spirits must be treating us well these days for such a blessing."

"Maybe." Baboo replied, standing back up and shaking his hair out again, his eyes distant. "I don't know myself, but…"

The Island Chief glanced at the young man, lifting an eyebrow. "What makes you say that, Baboo?"

Baboo stood at the window of the hut, pushing the curtain aside. He stared out past the village, up into the pristine blue skies above. "I just remembered why I came in to talk to you. Things have been wonderful so far…Our village prospers, and the Argonians have fit in well. But something didn't feel right this morning when I sailed out into the bay today."

Baboo clenched his free hand into a fist, rolling it about and staring at it. "The winds have changed, Chief Omoy." He said quietly. "A storm is coming."

To that, Hapo fell silent, a familiar dread rising up in him. To his people, nothing was a worse omen than the coming of a storm.

"It's going to be a big one, too." Baboo finished dully, walking towards the doorway and pushing the reed mat aside. "You might warn the others."

"I shall do so." Hapo answered, lowering his head. Baboo excused himself and walked out of the hut, going back to his business.

Hapo closed his eyes for a moment, folding his hands and burying his head in them.

Storms were common out in the ocean…but the last serious squall had been only seven years ago. His parents had died in that tragedy.

And with his initial good humor now forgotten, an uneasy feeling dipped into his heart, making the Chief wonder if this time, it wouldn't claim something even more precious.

---

Mica leaned back in the sand on the beach, sprawled out and reveling in the feeling of the sun beating down against her legs and arms. A massive straw hat protecting her face from the sun's blinding rays, she stretched her arms up above her head, pushing them through the pure white sand, sighing in contentment. "This is nice." She finally said.

Mike, smiling as he sat beside her, one knee drawn up against his chest as he perched his chin on it and stared out over the harbor, harrumphed in agreement. "Now this is why I came here. To get a tan and go fishing."

"Then where's your fishing pole?" Mica joked.

"Already went fishing." Mike chuckled, reaching his hand down to touch hers. "Or have you forgotten how you beat me not long ago?"

"Oh, I haven't forgotten that in the least." Mica giggled. She pulled her hand away from his, lifting her hat enough to stick her tongue out at him before hiding again.

Mike pretended to be offended at the gesture for a moment, but couldn't help but break out into a smile. "I'm glad to see you're feeling better." He continued, looking out towards the water again. "You've really opened up a lot since we first met."

"Points for persistence." She replied easily, shaking her head. "Not many people are as crazy as you to try to get me to open up."

"Somebody needed to." Mike answered back, idly flexing his toes inside of his tennis shoe. "Keeping too much bottled up is never a smart policy. And you had a lot to talk about…and you needed someone to listen."

"And there you were." Mica agreed. "You really are crazy."

"Crazy?" Mike chuckled, lifting an eyebrow. "Now that's one I haven't heard before. Although…who knows. Maybe I am going crazy. It's not every day I have an alien who speaks directly to my mind."

The pause settled between them, Mica taking a moment to realize that it was Zoda that Mike was referring to. "He's your nightmare, isn't he?"

"Was." Mike replied softly, shaking his head. "Not anymore, not with you here."

She closed her eyes at that, still hiding underneath her hat.

"…But one thing does bother me." Mike added, pursing his lips. "When I fought him, I could feel his thoughts grating on the inside of my skull. And twice now, with you…I've gotten a similar feeling. Zoda tried to give me a headache, but with you…" He turned his face around to glance at her, reaching down and lifting the brim of her hat up to stare into her eyes. "…With you, it didn't hurt. But I could still feel you. Yet…that's impossible. You can't feel a person…can you?"

Mica pursed her lips for a moment, finally shaking her head and laughing weakly. "Nothing gets by you, does it?" She sat up, yawning as she did after being relaxed for so long. "It is possible, Mike. It's our greatest secret, the thing we've tried to keep hidden. We Argonians do have a power that you don't possess, and we take care to not abuse it."

"What is it?"

"We call it Shilivre." Mica answered, curling and uncurling her fingers as she talked. "It's the power that the Starseer used to defeat the Star Devils in our ancient legends. It's also the power that was carried down through Sellarus' line, and eventually spread into some of the Argonians. With it, we can force our will on the nature of the world itself, communicate over vast distances, and never be alone. It can also be used to fight…but that tradition is one not often taught."

"So…every Argonian has this 'Shivre'?" Mike asked, scratching at his head. Mica giggled at that.

"No, Mike…Shilivre. And every Argonian has it...Just not everyone can use it." She sighed. "The Argonians are all responsive to Shilivre, but innate talent is something else entirely. The royal line has always been strong in it, and those families who found that they could also use it with some measure of success became the nobles. They come and go, and on rare occasion, somebody unexpected finds that they can use it as well." Mica pursed her lips for a moment, then shook her head. "Ezilian...He was from the house of Ranuforte, and it had been set up a long time ago that he would marry me. To keep the line intact and the power strong."

"Heh. Are you still going to marry him?" Mike asked unsteadily. Mica leveled a slightly annoyed gaze back at him in response before shaking her head.

"You can ask the stupidest questions some days." Mica commented.

"Sorry, I'll try to stop that." He replied with a blush. She giggled again, her deadpan demeanor faded.

"Don't bother. Sometimes I prefer you goofy."

Mike exhaled and fell onto his back, staring up into the blue sky. "That explains a lot, though. Why I got such a weird fuzzy feeling in my head at the game; he was messing with me with his power, wasn't he?"

"He was." Mica nodded.

"And the other kids…Are they all nobles too?"

"…Yes." Mica finally said. "When Zoda's forces invaded, only the others were close enough for my father to save. They had come for a party that afternoon."

"And then…they all have this Shilivre thing too, right?"

"As far as I know…yes." Mica said, pausing for a moment as she remembered Giskard's deficiency, and chose not to mention it.

"So did Zoda have it?" Mike asked, the question coming so far out of left field that Mica was left briefly without an answer. She mulled over it in her head for a few moments, then finally shook her head.

"…No, I don't think he could have. He was an alien invader after all…He couldn't have been Argonian."

"And the Starseer had it…and used it…Because that's what allowed him to beat back the Star Devils. If I remember your story right."

"You do, and yes."

"Then…" Mike began, looking down at his hand unsteadily, frowning, "…What am I?"

Mica closed her eyes for a moment, then looked over at him. "You're wondering if you're the Starseer, aren't you?"

"Yeah." Mike mumbled. "I mean…the prophecy…didn't it come true?"

"The funny thing is Marlin and I had a talk about this not long ago." Mica noted carefully. "In the end…you can believe the legends as much or as little as you want. It doesn't change the fact that you're Mike Jones. That you saved us. And that it all happened, whether it was predicted or not."

"…If it is true, though…then it means I never had a choice." Mike continued, now quiet. "It would mean that it had all been foretold. That I had no control over my life."

"So don't listen to the prophecies then." Mica urged him, rolling onto her side and pressing her hands into his stomach as she leaned over his face, insistent. "Don't try to be the Starseer. Just be yourself."

"And what do you think?" Mike asked, looking up at her pleadingly. "Do you believe in the prophecy?"

Mica seemed to freeze at that, her fingers digging into his skin before she lowered her head onto his chest and listened to the gentle beating of his heart.

"I don't want to believe in prophecies." She said quietly. "They still scare me."

Mike gently ran his right hand through her hair, stroking gently against her scalp, pushing his own doubts aside as he responded to her. "You don't need to be scared. I'm here to keep you safe."

Finding her moments of joy once again being overrun with heavy thoughts and memories nobody else could carry, Mica tried without success to stop the tear from rolling out of the corner of her eye, and thinking of a horrifying conclusion she could never utter.

It is because you're here…that I am afraid.

---

Ezilian could still feel the painful stab of Mica's attack in the back of his head. Like a ghost sensation, it was a pain that wasn't real; but it was present enough in his memory it might as well have been.

And he was on edge. Annoyed. Slightly out of his mind, after the run of fermented coconut juices he'd run off with earlier in the morning, bobbling from side to side and running on more venom and poison than common sense and logic.

He was angry, and he knew very few ways to express it that didn't involve violence and physical strain. So he found himself on the southern shore of Coralcola, stomping angrily through the beach and hurling shells back out to sea when he came across them.

"It's all his fault." He muttered tersely, clenching his fist tightly around the misshapen seashell in his hand. "If he'd just left…but no, he has to stay. Has to ruin everything."

It was a rage that had been boiling up in him for days now; it had begun with a severe distaste that had existed for Mike in the opening days when they'd met. It had moved on to a barely hidden hostility during the baseball game.

And Mica had defended him then too. Ezilian knew nothing good could come of whatever sort of relationship was blossoming between the two.

She was his. Not Mike's.

He'd used Amethyst, the other Argonian girl he'd taken a liking to, to trick Mike into leaving. And once he'd done that, everything was supposed to have turned out fine.

But then, he'd gotten sloppy. He'd talked about it. While cuddling with Amethyst, his carelessness allowed Mica to overhear everything.

And still, she defended Mike. It was thanks to Mica he still had such a lingering headache. She had cancelled their betrothal…an action he still couldn't help think she could not do legally. She had not matured yet, after all…and only the ruling member of the royal house could change such matters.

But legal or not, she had severed her ties.

And Ezilian had lost his ticket to the crown.

"DAMN HIM!" Ezilian screamed, hurling the seashell out with a snapshot spin into the surf.

Even then…he might have been able to patch things up. Convince her it was for her own good, for the general well being of all the survivors.

But then Mike came back.

Despite everything Ezilian had had Amethyst remark to him…all the hurtful and damaging fallacies that should have sent Mike packing, never to be heard from again, he'd returned. Giskard left in his place, the insipid little bookworm that he was.

He didn't see Mike much these days. He preferred it that way. But neither had he seen Mica that much either; what contact she did have with him was brusque, quiet, and with only the barest sense of recognition.

He hadn't seen anyone in a day…He'd run off, too worn out and aggravated to even put up a farce of his usual social interaction.

So she hated him now.

And Ezilian hated Mike because of it.

It was all his fault.

"You're not my savior, Jones." Ezilian rasped, eyes glaring murder.

You're not the Starseer. When Argonia fell to Zoda, where was our hero then, HUH? So what if you had the Super Nova? It's not Ellini…it can't be Ellini.

"The Starseer never came back, and the Argonians went extinct." Ezilian rambled, tottering back and forth. "I'll be damned if you're him."

Slowly, he regained his footing and took a few deep breaths, forcing what little mental control he had to turn his Shilivre loose on his addled thoughts, calming them, forcing himself to think clearly.

When he opened his eyes again, the rage was tempered with resolve. Amethyst may have been his chosen, but Mica had nonetheless been promised to him.

And he'd waited long enough.

Eyes flaring, he turned about and looked towards the steps that led up the steep divide between island grass and the sunken level of the beach.

"It's time you and I had a man to man talk, Jones." Ezilian growled as he began to walk up. "Time for me to prove once and for all that you're not somebody to worship."

And certainly not somebody for Mica to love.

---

Howduyadocola, Ancient Underwater Ruins

1:47 P.M.

Sub-C was a marvel, that much Giskard could admit as its covered thruster fans pushed it through the water with ease. Sub-C had submerged in the midst of the loose island cluster by Howduyadocola after heading north from a strange outcropping of grassy crags jutting from the seabed in the shape of a cross; Doctor Jones had been smiling as they'd submerged, while Giskard fought the urge to scream by gripping his armrests with unusual force.

Underneath the surface, a good one hundred feet down, they had reached the shallow bottom of the seafloor surrounding the islands…from there, Doctor Jones had eased Sub-C into the gaping maw of an ocean access tunnel, still grinning like a maniac.

Now, as they continued to go through the long, but unusually straight access tunnel, Dr. Jones looked over from his driving for a moment to look at his passenger, shaking his head. "Relax, Giskard. Sub-C's the safest little boat I've ever been in. We're in no danger."

"Yeah, nonetheless it's just creepy as all getup." Giskard mumbled. "I didn't think we'd have to submerge to do this…"

"I didn't know you had a problem with water." Dr. Jones spoke in surprise.

"Water, no." Giskard replied, shaking his head. "I can swim just fine. But…No, I guess I'm more worried about sinking."

Dr. Jones laughed at that. "You pick an odd time to worry about sinking." He motioned to the massive reinforced viewing nose of Sub-C. "See, the tunnel's already starting to slope up, we're not far from the surface. The water around these islands isn't any deeper than 100 feet anyhow; now, if you wanted to be afraid of the depths, you should have mentioned that when we were out on the open ocean; around the Islands of the Southern Cross, it can get as deep as 14,000 feet."

Giskard paled. "Thanks for the pep talk."

"Anytime, my boy." Dr. Jones replied, still smiling.

"Dr. Jones, we are approaching our final destination point." Nav-Com advised with its usual artificial tone. "Total travel time was…"

"Nav-Com, mute." The Archaeologist shot back, rubbing at his forehead. Nav-Com fell silent, then turned back to continue monitoring Sub-C's vitals.

"So you had to get to these ancient ruins by going underwater…how did you know to look here?" Giskard posed thoughtfully. "It's not like you always had a submersible…"

"True, I didn't." Dr. Jones said. "But my research into the ancient civilization of Easter Island made me realize that inevitably, the inhabitants had come from over the ocean, not from the nearby continent of South America. So plotting various sea routes…and estimating the shift of ocean currents to countless years before…Well, that's when I found the islands of the Southern Cross."

He pulled back on Sub-C's yoke, guiding it up at a steeper angle. "Found isn't the right word; they were always here, and the world had known of them since Captain Bell's exploration. All the same, I decided there was greater significance to these islands…Which is why I then created a laboratory, out of my own funds and some sizeable government grants, on Coralcola. Sub-C was a donation from an Oceanographic Institute; they've had some luck with famous shipwrecks in the last few years, so they've had plenty of money to test out new designs. I'm test driving Sub-C, actually."

"That gives me newfound faith in the likelihood of my continued existence." Giskard commented.

"I digress. So I began to examine the area of the Southern Cross, study its people and their culture. They have had some worldly influences; the helicopter pad on Coralcola, for instance, comes from my presence there more than anything. But on the whole, they have kept many of their old traditions, and stubbornly refuse to let them go. So much the better for me…Because I can study them today as they were hundreds of years ago. I was scouting the area around Howduyadocola one afternoon, when Sub-C's power circuits began to short out. I was on the surface at the time, so I didn't panic…and while I worked to restore electricity to the thrusters, I found the tides were beginning to act strangely."

Dr. Jones adjusted his glasses, pulling the yoke back harder and decreasing his speed. "That kind of force would only come about from a motion, or suction of the water itself; a hidden inlet, I came to discover. So I dove, and found the entrance to these ruins. That's when my time here in these islands at last began to pay off."

At long last, Sub-C came shallow and surfaced inside of a darkened cavern, and Dr. Jones turned to nod jovially at his new companion. "And now I have you to help me out."

"Don't expect a miracle now." Giskard answered, the color in his face returning as he got up from his seat and moved eagerly towards the escape hatch. "I know a lot, but there are large portions of Argonian that we never got to cover."

Dr. Jones finished the docking procedures as he pulled Sub-C up to the cavern ground, shutting down the thrusters and picking up a small remote control from Nav-Com's back.

Giskard glanced back at him, slightly befuddled again as the Doctor put the remote away and snatched his rucksack and an electric lantern from their supplies. "What's that for?"

"The remote?" Dr. Jones posed, shrugging his shoulders. "It allows me to keep in contact with Nav-Com when I'm separated from the ship. There's a radio transceiver in it as well, which is the handiest function most days."

"You really think we'll have to call home, do you?" Giskard surmised.

"Boy scout motto…Be prepared."

"…Rano dekasta…" Giskard voiced after a pause, smiling. "It seems that some concepts may well be universal."

"That wouldn't surprise me all that much." The archaeologist said, stepping up the ladder and popping Sub-C's hatch with a hiss of pressurized air. "If you keep at the study of history long enough, you'll almost start to get periods confused."

Stepping up and onto the roof of Sub-C, the doctor looked down inside the lit cockpit of his submersible and held out his hand. "Hand me the lantern…I'd forgotten how dark it gets in these ruins some days."

Wordlessly, the lantern came up, with Giskard following soon after, running a hand through his tousled hair. A click of the lantern's button snapped the halogen bulb into life, casting its bright white light off of the reflective water and creating a shimmering series of bubbles on the walls.

Despite himself, Giskard's eyes went wide with disbelief. "By the Starseer…"

"Yeah, pretty amazing." Dr. Jones agreed quietly, waving the lantern about to show the entire grotto. "Welcome to my ruins."

The two stood on the roof of Sub-C for a moment, admiring the view and lulled by the dancing lights. At long last, Giskard's now raging curiosity claimed him fully, and he leapt off from the sub onto solid ground.

As Dr. Jones followed at a slower pace, Giskard ran a hand along the wall, peering and scrutinizing it. The archaeologist blinked a few times, then smiled and clapped a hand on the boy's shoulder, keeping his lantern aloft. "Looking for those writings already, are we?" Giskard harrumphed aloud, and the doctor clucked his tongue. "There's nothing in this room, my boy. It's all beyond in the rest of these ruins. This was just my entrance."

"Yet it was here." Giskard emphasized, shaking his head. "The entrance, I mean…Look at the walls. The evidence of erosion is minimal; the passageway leading out from this grotto is too finely cut. This entrance into the ruins wasn't carved by nature."

As Giskard turned around to look at his companion, the doctor frowned, handing over the lantern and walking back towards the ship for their rucksacks. "So now we come down to the integral question…if these ruins are not as sunken as I thought them to be, but have been hidden since their foundation, what sort of people would be able to construct such a marvel?"

As Dr. Jones climbed the side ladder back up Sub-C, Giskard set the lantern to the ground, gears in his head silently working.

When the archaeologist came back with two heavy sacks, one in each hand, the youth was still as befuddled. "Have an idea of an answer yet?"

Giskard looked around the cavern again, his jaw shifting left and right as he thought. "…Yavim oyo sennae ur, Terani nerai Rellini dur…" Turning back to Dr. Jones, the boy shook his head. "And to the stars our people went…The Starseekers searching for where the Starseer was sent."

---

Coralcola Island

11:53 A.M.

Lunchtime came for the islanders, but with a change of plans. An unusual smell wafted in the air from the village cookfires; a burned and roasted sweetness that seemed out of place in the typical diet of coconut, fish, pork, breadfruit, and vegetables. As Mike and Mica strolled down from the north end of the island and out of the dense foliage that acted as the boundary for the village's north side, the smell grew more insistent.

Mica sniffed the air, unsure of what to make of it. "What do you suppose that is?" She asked. "Something smells different."

"Well, they could just be experimenting with something new…unless there's some sort of special occasion going on." Mike began, thinking for a moment. His eyes went wide as he looked at Mica. "Aah, cripes, there isn't some Argonian holiday I've forgotten about, is there?"

Bumbling Bakusian laughed over by one of the campfires, cheerfully stirring a fat hog on a spit as he drizzled more sweet smelling juice over its hide. "Not quite, Mike!"

Mica smiled at the boy and shook her head. "All right Bakusian, I'll bite. So what is it then?"

"If you must know, we had a shipment of pineapples come in two helicopter drops ago from Hawaii." The Island Chief spoke up sadly, chewing away on a stalk of what looked like celery. "Baboo had stored it away in Dr. Jones' laboratory, and he figured, why not pull it out today and have a party?"

Marlin pulled his messy face away from a shank of pork and grinned at the island chief. "Of course, the poor Chief here is still on his diet, eh big fella?"

"He'll remain on that diet of his until the spirits decide he has made enough progress." Bana Omoy called out sternly from another table, shaking her head before turning back to little Rozlyn, who fumblingly tried to cut her own sweet smelling pork chunk into smaller pieces. "Which, given his recent evaluation, will not be for some time yet."

"Rub it in, why don't you." Hapo grumbled, staring longingly at Bakusian's roasting pig.

Marlin whistled towards Mike and motioned vigorously with his hand. "Come on, come on! Grab a plate, siddown, and eat! I've wanted to talk to you anyhow."

Mike ran a hand through his hair and exhaled in exasperation, turning to Mica and shrugging with a smile. "Sorry, Princess. Duty calls."

Mica punched him lightly in the arm. "Then get to it, hero." She turned and looked around, her eyes settling on the table where Bana, Rozlyn, and Amethyst sat. She moved over to it and sat down, averting her eyes from Amethyst out of embarrassment and shame, while the girl with the pigtailed hair did the same, staring down at her plate.

Bakusian walked over and set a plate of the pineapple cured pork in front of her, grinning. "Try some, Princess. I think you'll enjoy it."

"I'm sure I will." Princess Mica smiled up at him. "Thank you, Bakusian. I never knew you had such talent."

Bakusian shook his head, his smile waning. "Well, being a noble of Argonia, did we ever get many chances to do things for ourselves? Out here, I can take my love of food and do something with it. I had to beg the cooks on Argonia to show me how to do it…And my parents never liked it. But here, I can do what I love…and nobody frowns on it."

"Hey Bakusian! You got any more?" Came a shout from a distant table. Bakusian looked up and waved his apron. "Coming!" He looked down at Mica apologetically. "I'm sorry, we've got customers waiting."

Mica shook her head again and looked over at Bana. "It's amazing."

"What is, dear?" The old shaman asked, looking up from Rozlyn's efforts to cut her pork.

Mica rested her head onto her hands, elbows on the table. "How everyone here…has found a way to fit in and to move on with their lives…"

The Princess stopped herself, then closed her eyes. "Except me."

Bana's eye gained a twinkle of recognition, then she nudged Rozlyn in the shoulder. "Come on, dear. I think I may have some coconut cookies back at my hut; I'm feeling ready for dessert."

"Oh, yay! Cookies!" Rozlyn squealed, pushing her dirty plate into the center of the table and jumping up to her feet. Bana nodded at Mica, then took Rozlyn by the hand and strolled off.

Amethyst glanced up, a little surprised to see her sister strolling off. She tried to open her mouth for a moment, then shut it, realizing what the old shaman's plan was.

Mica bit her lip, not knowing whether Bana had forced her and Amethyst to sit alone together by chance, or by that greater sense of her problems that the old witch seemed to possess by instinct or foresight. Whichever it was didn't matter much in the grand scheme of things; She was still sitting here alone next to Amethyst…Who she hadn't been able to stare straight in the eye after she discovered Ezilian's affair.

This was going to be a memorable lunch, that much was certain.

"All right Marlin, what's got you so worked up?" Asked Mike, sitting down beside the grinning Argonian with a heaping plateful of pineapple glazed pork.

Marlin chugged down the last of his glass of chilled coconut milk and slammed it down. "I felt the need to go spelunking down in the caves again, and I was wondering if you'd like to come along."

Mike clucked his tongue. "Normally, I'd take you up on that in a heartbeat, but I'm thinking I may have other plans." Marlin pouted at that.

"Like what?" The Argonian inquired. "Fishing again? Sunbathing? Your Uncle's off with Giskard, and they won't be back for a few days. What else would you have going on?"

Mike shrugged, feeling a tug inside of him, warning him to not divulge the truth. Ezilian may have known, but he'd kept himself distant, quiet, and morose. Neither he nor Mica particularly cared about what Ezilian thought of them…but Mike didn't want to chance announcing the truth to the rest of the Argonians, and to the island at large. The rest of the Argonians he didn't have a problem with; and given how powerful their traditions were, it was likely they wouldn't respond well to the news that their Princess had chosen a commoner, and an alien no less.

Funny…I'm used to them being the aliens.

"Mike?" Marlin nudged him in the shoulder, chuckling. "Hey, wake up buddy."

"Huh?" Mike said, refocusing on his seatmate.

"You looked like you slipped into some deep thought there for a minute, big guy." Marlin said with a smile. "But why won't you go into the caves with me?"

Mike mulled over it a bit in his head, then winked at the youth and patted him on the shoulder. "Let's see how the day plays out, Marlin. It's only half over, after all."

"That's the best answer I'm going to get out of you, isn't it?" Marlin asked.

"At least until I've eaten LUNCH." Mike said, acting half annoyed as he picked up a chunk of pork and bit off a chunk. Still, he ended with a smile. Marlin was a good kid, and still knew how to make him smile.

Neither Mica nor Amethyst said anything for a few minutes, poking and chewing away at their food with a quiet intensity. Mica would throw a furtive glance in the direction of the girl every now and then, but Amethyst kept her face hidden, staring down at her meal and trying her best not to look up.

Mica tried to think of some way to get her attention. The quiet bothered her, and it likely made Amethyst feel worse. Amethyst likely still felt a sense of guilt, or at least, that was what her body language put off. The Princess pursed her lips, then sighed and closed her eyes, focusing her energies.

We could sit here all day like this, but it's driving me nuts.

Amethyst jerked her head up at the transmission, looking at the Princess with a certain amount of disbelief. The Princess opened her eyes back up and frowned.

Act normal, Amethyst. You shouldn't have to be nervous around me.

Amethyst recovered her senses and looked back to her food, trying to look as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening…certainly not that the Argonian princess and herself were in a telepathic conversation.

I'm ashamed.

Why?

Because Ezilian…he and I…

It's all right. Mica interrupted, calming her worries. My problems rest in him, not in you. You don't need to feel guilty for responding to your feelings.

So Ezilian…and you…

As far as I'm concerned, our betrothal is done with. There is no shame in your relationship with Ezilian now.

Amethyst relaxed at that, a great weight of guilt and social worry fading from her.

Thank you, Princess Mica.

Mica smiled back at the girl, relieved that it was done with.

There's only seven of us, Amethyst…and we have to be strong. We cannot be driven apart because of the plotting of one individual.

Amethyst leaned back in her seat, blinking.

Ezilian…I haven't seen him in a day now.

Mica frowned. What?

I'm serious! Amethyst continued, more insistent. To be honest, I'm kind of worried about him…He couldn't have gone far, but…He hasn't been the same since you mindblasted him.

Mica breathed for a moment, then severed the connection and reached for her food again. "Well, when he gets hungry, he'll come back." Mica finally said, smiling at the girl. "He's conniving, self-serving, and a little stupid, but he knows when to eat."

Amethyst poked at her own food, full enough. "I hope so." She said quietly.

As luck would have it, Ezilian was indeed headed for the dining area. Unlike Mica's guess for his coming, though, it was not nourishment the enraged and confused young adult was after, but a darker reason.

The village was thoroughly enjoying the atypical lunch that Bakusian had worked hard to have ready, and did not notice Ezilian's quick and purposeful gait. They did not notice the youth at all until he appeared at the edge of the communal eating hut and stormed through the center aisle of tables.

"Hey, it's Ezilian!" One of the islanders called out good naturedly. "You made it just in time for the feast!"

Bakusian was similarly possessed of good cheer, and he took a moment to pause from passing out more pork to wave at the eldest Argonian boy. "You have got to try some, Ezilian! It's really great stuff!"

Soon, everyone who had greeted him with such friendly eagerness felt their welcomes slipping away into concern and a sense of dread that refused to be recognized. Through the quieted welcomes and the slowly rising mumblings of wonder and furrowed brows, Ezilian charged on. There was red in his sight, and a dull droning in his ears that blurred out everything.

Amethyst looked up before Mica did, her eyes brightening. "Ezilian!" She called out excitably, standing up. Her smile faded away as she noticed first off that he did not even look at her, or even register the fact she had spoken. Confusion hit her as she wondered why he was glowering so, or stamping along like a bull ready to gore the matador.

Mica, a little more astute than her counterpart, saw clearly the path Ezilian's walk was headed down, and where it ended. At the table where Mike and Marlin sat, joking, completely oblivious to their surroundings. She too, rose to her feet, but had enough sense to shake her head, not enough time to do anything to stop it, but enough time to make note of it.

"Oh, by the Starseer, Ezilian, don't do this…"

Mike may have been distracted by his conversation with Marlin, but he was far from completely blurred out of the world. The looming shadow of a figure appearing over him made him stop and look up. Thus, while he was surprised at Ezilian's sudden appearance, he was nonetheless aware enough to notice the glare in his eyes and his clenched jaw…but more importantly, the fist that swung in from the side of his hip, aimed directly for his face.

He reacted with instincts honed by years on the field, and beyond it. His recent adventure had certainly sharpened his abilities, so instead of having to take the blow as it was intended, he swiveled to the side and took the punch to the side of his head, jarring his equilibrium and making his ear ring from the force. It also had the undesired effect of pushing Mike backwards with enough force that his flailing legs overturned the table and he collapsed backwards onto the grass.

A collective gasp rose up into the air as Marlin yelped in surprise, his lunch flying away from his hands and hitting the ground. But all eyes, even Marlin's, weren't focused on the table, but on Mike, who managed to collect himself enough that he rolled with the force of Ezilian's blow, turning his fall into a half cartwheel and landing on his feet, standing up with a raised eyebrow and a small grimace of pain.

"Ezilian, what the heck are you doing?" Mike demanded, trying to ignore the ringing sensation in his ear.

"Can it, Jones!" Ezilian barked, charging towards him with a murderous look in his eye. "We finish this today!" Mike was still slightly off kilter, but relying on his honed instincts again, he dove to the side of Ezilian's next powerful punch.

Ezilian recovered quickly from the failed strike, pushing strength through his arm to land a solid blow to Mike's back, knocking the youth aside once again. Mike let out a short blast of air from the hit, righting himself and clearing a good deal of distance between the two.

"Ezilian, stop this!" Mica called out, stern and furious.

Ezilian didn't look away from Jones for a second. "Not until I'm done with him, Princess. This has been a long time in coming." He crouched down into a stance that Mike didn't recognize, but the boy had seen enough martial arts movies to know that nothing good could come of it.

Mike righted himself, ignoring the bruised sensations his body was sending him. Clenching his fists and readying himself, he shook his head. "Ezilian, don't do this, man. It's not worth it."

Ezilian spat at that. "NOT WORTH IT?!" He laughed for a long moment, rearing his head back before stopping in a blink, glaring back at his foe. "Oh, that's where you're wrong. You've messed up our lives one time too many, Jones, and it's about time I made it clear just how much so!"

Mike narrowed his eyes, but he felt a strange sensation come from beyond Ezilian. His eyes flickered for a moment to the source, and he found Mica standing there, hands clasped to her chest, worry in her eyes.

She must have been trying to do something with the strange power Mike had just been told earlier that she had. Maybe tell him something. Mike didn't know, and couldn't; he was deaf to whatever message she was trying to broadcast.

Maybe I don't have this Shilivre, huh? Mike mused wryly, turning back to Ezilian. He's ticked off…more than he's ever been. Nothing's going to stop him this time, is it? No, any self control he's used before to stop from fighting me is gone now. Still…Let him come to me.

"You don't want to do this, Ezilian." Mike growled. "You're strong, but I'm stronger."

Ezilian grinned at that, his right arm tensing up as he charged at Mike. "We'll just SEE about that!"

The fight seemed evenly matched, for while Ezilian was well toned and possessed a mastery of an Argonian martial arts, Mike had speed and durability built over his time training for baseball. But it was clear that Ezilian had more power behind his blows than Mike could have mustered, if only because of the fact that Ezilian was older than the earth native.

In the end, Mike's saving grace was the unnatural reserve of strength and vitality he'd gained over the course of his Trials of the Startropics. However powerful Ezilian's blows came, Mike dodged out of the way, or deflected others…and the shots that did make it through were only glancing blows, enough to make him cringe, but not enough to severely daze him or send him down for the count. That was clearly the Argonian's intent, to put him down and leave him with a black eye that would stay in place for the rest of his vacation.

But Mike wasn't about to let that happen.

"Unf!" Mike grunted, doubling over slightly as Ezilian managed to sink a punch past his defenses and bury a fist into his stomach. Ezilian backed up a bit, then leveled a straight kick at his ribs. Unable to move out of the way, Mike moved with the shot, grimacing as he felt his ribs jar from the impact. He stumbled backwards, drawing in a sharp breath that brought a wheeze of pain.

Aaw, Damnit…he bruised 'em pretty good.

"You just had to stick around, didn't you?" Ezilian snarled. "You saved us, sure. You got lucky, you took Zoda down…but you stuck around, you arrogant sonofa…"

"I'm here on vacation, you idiot!" Mike blasted angrily, ignoring the pain from his chest and standing back up again. "Everyone else around here's gotten used to things here, and they've gotten used to me. You're the only guy who's got a problem with this situation!"

"Oh, yes." Ezilian snapped, tossing his hand to the side. "This little dump of an island is worlds better than Argonia ever was, eh? Oh yes. You have the option to come and go, but the rest of us are STRANDED HERE!"

"That's not my fault, Ezilian!" Mike blasted back, charging at the elder boy and diving in low at the last moment with a sudden elbow rush to the midsection.

Ezilian grunted at the blow, but shoved Mike off of him with a push and spat on the ground. "Yeah, but plenty else is."

"Knock it off, you two!" Hapo called out, more than a little flustered as the fisticuffs continued. The other Argonians could only watch in disbelief as their oldest associate continued to pound on Mike. Some of the villagers, marking it off as natural male tendencies gone amok, even began to place bets.

Of the spectators, only two had any real piercing interest that made their blood run cold as the struggle continued. Princess Mica, who could wager a pretty good guess as to why Ezilian had flown off the handle so violently, and Amethyst, who prayed in her heart of hearts that Ezilian wouldn't get too banged up from this stunt.

"You took her away from me." Ezilian snapped, throwing a wild punch that Mike easily ducked underneath.

"She wasn't yours to begin with!" Mike screamed back, hurling an uppercut straight into the teenager's jaw and sending the Argonian reeling away from him.

"KYRCHAI!" Ezilian screamed, recovering enough to level another strike. But the inflection and the word itself that he had uttered was enough to temporarily stun Mike, lose his concentration in the fight. His eyes widened against his better judgement when Ezilian shouted that…He'd heard the word before, against another opponent...

But it had come from a person that Mike had believed shared nothing in common with the Argonians.

Distracted, Mike took the punch to his sternum full force, gasping as the wind got knocked out of him again. Rage poured out of Ezilian now, and blow after blow followed his first one.

"Princess Mica was MINE! SHE WAS BETROTHED TO ME!" Ezilian screamed, ending his flurry with a flatpalmed strike that knocked Mike onto his back, finally dazed. "But no, you have to come along and RUIN IT. You don't belong here Mike, and you don't belong with US!"

"Come off it…" Mike wheezed, trying to gain his bearings, shaking off the pain as best as he could. "You never loved her. So quit with the broken heart bullhockey." Ezilian growled again and moved closer, but Mike's foot shot up and buried the toe into the fool's stomach for his troubles, and Ezilian stumbled backwards, coughing in spasms.

Mike stumbled back up to his feet, finding breathing to be a very difficult activity.

"Admit it…You had plans, didn't you…but something came along and ruined that. Zoda. And when you got here…I saved you, and that just burns your biscuit."

"You're not him." Ezilian rasped, slower to recover from his blows than Mike was.

Mike glared at him, not willing to make another move, but not about to let the older adolescent surprise him. "Who?"

"The Starseer!" Ezilian cried out. "It's impossible, it can't be…I WON'T LET IT!" He charged towards Mike again, but the earth native had recovered enough of his wits to lunge to the side, wincing at his bruised ribs in the process, and slam both fists against the base of Ezilian's skull before the Argonian could react. Ezilian saw stars explode behind his eyes, and he fell to the ground, in horrendous pain and barely able to do anything but writhe for a few moments in pain.

Mike wheezed, lowering a hand to support his chest as he shook his head. "I never said I was the Starseer." He said through gritted teeth. "It's a legend, Ezilian, and you can take it how you like…But just face the real facts, and not the fears. I saved you and the others from Zoda. You burned yourself and lost Mica because you weren't faithful to that relationship. And whether you like it or not, I'm not going away for a long while yet…and Mica chose me."

Mike coughed for a moment, then shook his head. "And let's face it, Ranuforte…"

Ezilian turned, surprise and a refreshed bitterness burning in his eyes at the mention of his last name…never mentioned to Mike before, at least not by his lips.

Mike shook his head. "I told you I was stronger."

There were many things that Michael Jones was and did that Ezilian could take offense to.

But none were as aggravating, as hate inspiring, as that statement.

"And you can go to Hell." Ezilian murmured, pulling himself back up to his feet and tapping into a power he had long ignored.

A strange, mystical, and all too alien locus of white light blazed around him like a candle, and every Argonian watching suddenly paled in horror.

"NO, EZILIAN! DON'T DO IT!" Amethyst screamed, the first Argonian who reclaimed their voice after watching on in horror as the greatest secret they had tried to keep hidden was blasted out into the open by a moment of heated anger.

Mike also watched in disbelief, realizing what it was that was being readied against him.

Aah, Christ crackers…Tell me that isn't…

Mike wheezed again, then shook his head. "You're crazy, Ezilian…You would use Shilivre on me?"

Ezilian cackled at that, lost to his bitterness and his thirst for vengeance. "You, stronger than me? Laughable, Jones…The Argonian race will forever be stronger than you could ever hope to be!"

The villagers paled and distanced themselves away from the other Argonians, now looking at them with a muted sense of terror as they watched Ezilian slip farther and farther into madness. Mike stared numbly at the growing power Ezilian brought to bear, even as the Argonian's hands began to shimmer and glow.

"Stop this immediately!!" Mica interceded, running between the two and holding her arms up to the sides. She glared at Ezilian, her heart pounding as she shook her head. "Damn you, Ezilian…stop it NOW. You've ruined everything we've worked for, everything we've tried to keep hidden…"

Ezilian guffawed, waving his hands in the air. "Oh, well excuse me Princess. I didn't know there was a premium on secrets these days, but certainly you and your little ragamuffin of a love toy there would know of them, eh?"

Mica's face burned from the stinging comment, but she refused to budge. Ezilian glared at her. "No, I think I prefer to have it all out in the open. I'm tired of obeying your tired instructions, and I'm tired of having to bottle up my feelings just to appease this FARCE of normalcy you try to keep up!"

Mica's eyes practically dripped vengefulness as she shook her head. "Ezilian Ranuforte, if you have cost us our new home, I swear to…"

"To what?!" Ezilian cried out shrilly, slicing the air in front of him. "To the Starseer?! The Starseer isn't real, Mica! HE NEVER WAS! All the legends…the stories…Just that! Coddling little fairy tales told to us at night to make us feel warm, safe, and comfortable, to reassure us that somebody greater than us was watching out for our well being!"

Mica looked as if Ezilian had slapped her. "How…How can you say that?" She whispered, stunned.

Ezilian's eyes, burning with rage, now carried a fine line of tears. "When Argonia burned and Zoda annihilated our people…Where was the Starseer then?! Where was our great hero to bring us from the brink of destruction, to fulfill the ancient prophecy?! NOWHERE!! Your father was always well intentioned, but his effort was futile! He locked us in prisons, blasted us through space…and sent us here, away from our homes, from even the graves of our families and friends…And for what?! To live? THIS IS LIVING?! To be trapped on a tiny island with an ocean around us on all sides, to never see the rest of this great world because we're different, because we have to hide?! We're doomed to die here, if things don't change, and King Hirocon knew it!"

"LIAR!" Mica cried out. "How DARE you…"

"And even now, you cling to the tiniest wisps of your faith and hopes." Ezilian snapped. "Together, you and I could have done something…we could have worked miracles on this dump of a planet, made a new home, a NEW ARGONIA. That was our only hope for survival, that was your OBLIGATION!! We could have brought forth life and put into this world the framework that had guided our prosperity back home! But no, you couldn't see that, you never could. You were such a hopeless romantic, a fanciful dreamer. Your father never understood…to rule, one does not need compassion and the tenderness of a woman, but the will and stern command of a man!"

Ezilian screamed again, the energy surrounding him exploding briefly in a massive halo around him. Mica, unprepared, was swept aside by the forceful blast and knocked to the ground, damaged from the fall and unable to stop Ezilian's wrath any longer.

Mike stared dully at the crazed Ezilian. He had never seen Shilivre used in such a…tangible form, but if his experience with Zoda was anything like what Ezilian had planned, then it was not likely to be a winning scenario.

The Argonian took one last glance at Mica, lying on the ground and nursing her battered elbow.

Slowly, Ezilian's gaze turned about and came to focus on Mike.

The boy felt a strange, unsettling, and all too familiar buzzing drone push into his head.

"And it's all because of him." Ezilian breathed, his screams fading. "I'll prove to you Mica…I'll prove to you that everything you've ever believed in, the Starseer, the legends, and your wrongfully placed feelings in this whelp are useless!"

The buzzing grew more intense, and Mike cringed, pushing a hand to the side of his head. Sucking in a sharp breath against the protests of his bruised ribs, Mike struggled with the sudden feelings of uneasiness that Ezilian blasted into him.

"Mike Jones is not the Starseer." Ezilian rasped, a sick grin appearing on his face as his Shilivre glowed brighter about his hands. "After all, if he was…Then he would be able to stop me from doing this!!"

"Ezilian, stop!" Amethyst screamed, her voice panicked. "By the stars, PLEASE STOP!"

Mike gritted his teeth, a pulsing from deep within beginning to rise up alongside the pounding of his assaulted mind, making it worse. By tenacity alone, he managed to keep his eyes open against the thought eliminating migraine as Ezilian let out a powerful scream, and swung his right fist about.

Like something out of one of his video games, or some ancient story of magic and fantasy, the dazzling white power glowing about Ezilian's fist detached from his punch and hurtled towards Mike, a projectile of unknown power and effect.

Mike lunged to the side, dodging the blast by the narrowest of margins as it buried into the ground and exploded, kicking up a perfect hemisphere of grass and soil.

"That's it, Jones!" Ezilian laughed crazily, hurling blast after blast. "Keep running like the dog you are!"

Nothing could stop him. The other Argonians curled away from the violent and despondent man, and Princess Mica was still struggling to recover from her own injuries. As for the islanders, once Ezilian began firing off his bolts, they distanced themselves from the fight even farther, unable to stop watching, but now fearful of what might happen to them, should the Argonians ever all snap just like Ezilian.

And Mike ran. He had nothing to stop Ezilian's rage. He had no great hidden powers passed down through the mythical lineage of a long dead planet. He did not want to kill Ezilian, even if the youth did to him. Worse, he'd given his yo-yo to Giskard days ago when the grumpy bookworm had left with his Uncle. And the Super Nova…no. No, it was back in the laboratory, and even if it was here, he wouldn't use it. No, never again.

Still, the blasts crept closer and closer. The impacts kicked up dirt at his heels, and then at last, his ankles…then his knees…and then, a blast caught him solidly in the back, shattering over his body like a loose electrical cable in water, sending him collapsing to the ground twitching.

Ezilian's laugh and the pounding sensation in his head was all that Mike heard as he struggled back up to his knees, one hand kept against his injured chest and the other clutching at his aching head.

When he opened his eyes again, Ezilian stood above him, triumphant, unsmiling, glowing palm lowered down towards him.

"You're no Starseer." Ezilian spat out, eyes flaring.

No…No, I'm not.

But all the same, even as Mike thought that, the pulsing sensation from somewhere inside of him grew…responded to the threat.

Mike felt it, was unsure of it. He blinked, thinking on it and of the strange pulse from within…

And in an instant, Ezilian's thoughtblasting ceased, the migraine inducing wave blocked off by a sudden potent wall of internal consciousness. Ezilian and Mike blinked at the same time, and with the same stunned surprise.

But…No, how did I…

Mike's feverish confusion didn't last long. Screaming angrily, Ezilian fired off his last bolt, the one that would knock Mike out and end the fight once and for all.

Mike didn't see the blast coming, though.

He felt it.

His hand came up. Stopped with the palm extended facing upwards towards the blast, and his eyes screwed shut.

Acting on instinct, Mike had responded with a speed beyond him.

The bolt swung downwards, impacted against his palm…

And then dissipated in an instant, the crackling force nullified.

Silence came.

The islanders said nothing.

Bakusian and Marlin let out an audible gasp.

Hapo Omoy dropped his celery.

Amethyst sank to her knees, and Mica went pale, shaking her head.

Above the wearied youth, Ezilian's eyes went wider than they had ever been before. His hand and his power, once so sure, quivered and then faded away as he took one step backwards away from Mike, and then another.

"N…No…It's…It can't be, that's…IMPOSSIBLE…"

Mike was sore all over. His mind, freed of Ezilian's migraine inducing effects, still was tired beyond all belief. His hand dropped back to his side, and through a slightly slurred tone of voice and one drooping eyelid, he wheezed again. No parting shot, no final one liner left Mike's lips.

Ezilian let out a cry of panic and dismay, then turned about and charged out of the village and towards the Coralcola Caverns.

"By Sellarus…" Mica finally said, once Ezilian was out of earshot. She stumbled next to Mike, looking at him in a mix of reverence and horror.

"He…He used Shilivre…" Amethyst squeaked.

"But then, that means…" Bakusian began, his voice trembling from the ramifications. "…He…The Starseer…"

"No, it can't be…I mean…" Marlin argued with himself, falling silent.

For Mike, it was all too much to take in in far too short a time. So he did the only rational thing left to him in the situation.

He closed his eyes and collapsed onto his side, slipping into the blissful void of darkness.

---

Howduyadocola

Ancient Ruins

3:24 P.M.

Giskard and Doctor Jones had pressed in deeper within the ruins, a clear goal resting in the archaeologist's head. He'd explained as much to Giskard, who had nodded his head at the wisdom behind it. They were going to push through the caverns and reach the center of the main route; the center which contained the remains of the Argonian space pod, and more importantly, the cipher inscribed on the side of it. That cipher, of which the good doctor had only been able to decrypt a part of, still withheld some vital secrets.

Just as the rest of this place did…which was why Doctor Jones wanted to give Giskard as much time to ponder over his first discovery. The Argonian had fallen silent after mumbling a sentence in Argonian and then translating it. Gears were turning in the head of his associate, and until Giskard finally ventured to speak again, he wasn't about to interrupt that process.

It made the trip somewhat more unnerving. Uneasy silence hung over them, bothering the doctor far more than Giskard.

"Damnit, if only there were some more inscriptions." Giskard muttered, shaking his head.

"Pardon?"

"Inscriptions!" Giskard spoke up louder, still as agitated. "What I was able to pull out of your books…they lead to a conclusion, all right…but I need more to back it up."

Dr. Jones looked at him, not having to feign confusion. "Care to enlighten me? You mumbled that crazy rhyme in Argonian a while back, and I've been wondering what you were getting at ever since."

Giskard exhaled and ran a hair through his spiked, mottled hair. "My apologies. I suppose I should explain."

He folded one arm behind his back, the other carrying the powerful strobe lantern he held. "You remember the story of the Starseer that Mica told at the campfire some time back?"

"Of course."

"Then you'll remember how the Star Devils were beaten back by the Starseer, and a great period of peace led our people to endure." Giskard continued. "The Starseer left a woman of impeccable intelligence and bravery to lead his people after he vanished from sight; Sellarus Argos. She would become Queen Argos…and from her, we got the name Argonia, and the royal line, up to Princess Mica."

"Yes, but that doesn't…"

"It's important you know all the facts." Giskard said calmly. "I would hate to explain details later on. Suffice it to say, this period of peace also bloomed into a great wave of exploration for the sake of exploration, and the spreading of Argonia's heritage. They were known as the Starseekers, and through them Argonia became a strong and well respected planet in the stars. We found peaceful communication with other races, we founded temporary colonies on uninhabited worlds, and all this the Starseekers did with the best of intentions. We perfected faster methods of travel, explored farther. Along the way, Argonia kept a record of all the Starseeker's visitations."

"And Earth, then…"

"Was not one of them." Giskard muttered, shaking his head. "But then, none of this makes sense. The reason I say that is because two years before Zoda destroyed Argonia, I researched the Starseekers on my own; first for a homework assignment, and then later my by own curiosity. The Starseekers went many places, but Earth, or any facsimile of it was not among the records at Argonia."

A low rumbling echoed through the caverns, giving Giskard reason to pause his explanations and turn curiously towards the archaeologist. Laughing a little bit, Dr. Jones shook his head. "Don't worry; that's normal. That just means a storm's getting started on the surface. The sound echoes down here strangely."

"Strange is the key word." Giskard replied, ruffling his hair. "I could have sworn I heard something."

"You're just jumping at shadows, is all." Dr. Jones consoled him, walking on. "But the Starseekers…if they didn't come here, then how is it that there is Argonian script in this place?"

"Logically, they would have to have been here." Giskard bounded up next to the doctor, staying as close to the flickering light as he could. "But then…there was no evidence of them ever coming here back in the archives."

"Do you suppose that they could have simply not filed a report?"

Giskard's eyes hardened. "No. They were very good about keeping in touch. That's the problem. If there's Argonian runes here, then that means the Starseekers came. And if the Starseekers came, then there was a report."

"But there was no report."

"And that's the issue." Giskard finished.

"Well, I can assure you that the runes are here." Dr. Jones noted, shaking his head. "We're coming up on the room where your spaceship crashed. It's got quite a few…as well as the cipher engraved on your ship itself."

"That is why we came here." Giskard affirmed. He looked around, shivering as they passed through a broad room with water lapping at the sides of their pathway. "Somehow, these caverns are more porous than I thought they would be."

"Some of the rooms have a great deal more open water in them, true." The archaeologist swung the lantern about, narrowing his eyes. "We should be coming up on some steps soon that will take us up to the next level of the ruins."

"I see." Giskard winced, covering his face as a quick drip of water splashed against his forehead. "I hope it's a little less moist."

"Heh, you think this is bad?" Dr. Jones laughed. "It was worse back just before Zoda showed up and kidnapped me for his work. No, things are pretty quiet right now…and so are the traps in these ruins, apparently."

"Traps?" Giskard said, lifting an eyebrow.

"Oh, lord yes." Steve answered. "I asked Mike about what he had to go through to get to me when he was on his quest…these floors here had sunk, leaving gaping holes of open water, and there was a fair share of monsters, if I'm to believe him." He paused, then motioned along a narrow path of dry land between two more soaked pavilions. "Through here is the room we need."

Up a thick set of stairs, the two explorers found an enormous cavern, enormous stone statues with massive heads standing at the sides.

Giskard couldn't help but whistle at the sight. "Those heads are creepy."

"They share a connection with the Easter Island heads here on Earth." Dr. Jones surmised. "I've long believed, taking a cue from the rest of my field, that the Easter Island inhabitants sailed from these waters long ago. Their craft went with them." The archaeologist moved his lantern around and motioned to the north. "But what we're looking for…is right there."

In the middle of the room, with a great deal of sunlight pouring in from the gaping hole in the ceiling overhead stood a sizable mass of metal.

Giskard moved towards it, no longer needing the light of Dr. Jones' lantern. His eyes were wide, his hands reaching towards it. "This…This is…"

"The very same escape ship that your King Hirocon used to send you to Earth." The archaeologist finished.

Giskard stepped up next to it, running a hand along its surface. Dr. Jones adjusted his glasses. "It…must feel odd for you to be here, touching it."

"No…not really." The youth responded slowly, his gaze fixated on it. "I'm just not used to being on this side of it." He moved his hand along the side until his fingers dipped into one of the three cavities carved into the melted craft's side. "It just looks like a meteorite now…like it was supposed to." Giskard clucked his tongue, pulling his fingers back and out of the slots that had once contained the Argonian stasis cubes. "So where exactly on this thing is the cipher? I'd like to see how you cracked the code to get us out of this thing."

The archaeologist moved up beside the boy, edging to the right. No longer needing it, he set his lantern behind him so he wouldn't trip over it. "Over here, Giskard." Dr. Jones smiled as he saw the familiar lines of text that had begun the entire mess.

Giskard harrumphed as he knelt down beside the objects, running his fingers across the engraved runes. "Heh…I see why Zoda would have a problem translating this. Argonian in itself isn't a hard language, just a very lyrical one. But this is Hirocon's standard scramble." Giskard looked up at the archaeologist and smirked. "You must have figured it out, of course."

"Naturally." Dr. Jones chuckled. "But to me, it wasn't all that original."

Giskard lifted an eyebrow. "Excuse me? Hirocon's habit of leaving his most important information encoded backwards was his hidden, defining trait! How can you say that isn't original?"

"Because here on Earth, there was an engineer and artist named Leonardo Da Vinci who did the same thing." Dr. Jones explained. "Da Vinci's oddity is well known to the better schooled inhabitants of Earth, and I'm not a code cracker by any means. It was a wild guess to apply Da Vinci's idea to the cipher, but it worked."

Giskard mulled over the thought in his head and nodded. "But only to a degree, I see." His hand danced from the first few lines to the next. "The first section is the one you had to have translated; it provides the instructions for how to remove the cubes…and how to link them together to free the contents."

"As I recall, I provided the first with ease, but gave him utter nonsense for the second." Dr. Jones smiled. "He didn't seem too pleased…He had his suspicions, but no patience. In the end, the cubes were his. So he left me in the ruins to die of starvation and went back aboard his ship to leave Earth, and figure out the last section of what I could translate on his own." The explorer shrugged. "Of course, he did not count on the fact that my dear nephew was hot on his heels."

"And a good thing, too." Giskard murmured. "So, then, I'm to take a crack at this last portion of the cipher?"

"If you might."

The Argonian narrowed his eyes, staring at the runes a little harder. "Gah…all right, reverse it then…" His fingers tapped against the side of the craft. "Blast it all, even…What is this?!"

Giskard stood up, flustered.

"I take it you couldn't do it?"

"It's nonsense and madness." Giskard murmured. "Common Argonian, Ancient Argonian, arranged in such a way that I can't make out what's reversed and what isn't. Argonian characters all have an opposite meaning assigned to their reversal. There's a message in it…but I'd need more time. More than this passing glance."

The good doctor sighed. "As much as I surmised. But fret not, Giskard. Time we have, in great abundance."

Giskard stretched out his arms, stepping away from the cipher and looking about the room. "I want to believe…That this place is a relic of the Starseeker's journeys. But everything in my past research goes against it."

The archaeologist thought for a moment, then walked over to the wall on the opposite side of the room from the ruined spaceship. Half of him was hidden in the shadows, beckoning slowly. "Giskard, grab my lantern for a moment and come over here."

The boy obligingly complied, and set after him with the warm glow swinging back and forth in his hand.

Dr. Jones had his eyes closed when the youth approached, but opened them and stepped to the side, motioning above his head.

"Tell me what you see here." The archaeologist whispered.

Giskard raised the lantern up and narrowed his vision again.

It only took him a few moments before his eyes widened. Stubbornly, he kept his jaw from dropping.

"Juh-Halla Nek martula lor, endama kighra potus kor…"

Dr. Jones smiled as the boy uttered those words. "Your language…it sings."

"Ancient Argonian always did." Giskard said quietly. "But you were right. These…This…"

"Is an outpost of your Starseekers?" Dr. Jones pressed. The boy nodded. "And what did the runes say?"

"Roughly translated…The final place the Starseekers reached, an unlikely son the King beseeched." Giskard took a step back and shook his head. "What that means, I'm clueless about…But the Starseekers were here. And this place is for real. It leaves a lot of open questions, though." Giskard faced Dr. Jones. "Every time the Starseekers found another planet, the records on Argonia were changed to reflect it…And the only person who had the authority to alter those records was the royal family."

"So then…You're saying that the records were altered by royal decree?"

"Had to have been." Giskard muttered. "And in the time of Hirocon…if not by Hirocon himself."

"What makes you say that?"

"He sent us here." Giskard said, his voice gaining confidence. "Hirocon…He was good hearted, love a joke, was a friend of the people. But he wasn't rash…there was always a plan, or barring that, a damned good reason for everything he did. He just said he was sending us away…maybe he told Mica something different, but if he did, then it was between them. All the same, there was no place in Argonia's normal sphere that was safe. He couldn't have sent us here, to Earth…unless he knew about it in the first place. Thus, at least for a time in his reign, the record had to have existed."

"And…Zoda followed."

The two stood like that for a while, a few answers beginning to dawn on them as more questions appeared.

"So then, we have to ask ourselves just what the devil this inscription is talking about with this unlikely…"

Giskard was interrupted by a low moan, perhaps far off, perhaps close, that suddenly reverberated through the cavernous ruins. Despite himself, his ears tilted back to lay flat against the sides of his head, and his hair stood on end.

Then came a distant shuffling.

Dr. Jones gripped Giskard's shoulder tightly, causing the boy to wince and look up at the archaeologist in wonder.

The human was pale in disbelief.

"Doc…What's going on?" Giskard whispered, a sense of fear beginning to blossom in him.

"Mike…You still have his yo-yo, yes?" Dr. Jones said shortly. Giskard nodded. "Then put it on, and be quick about it!"

Now on full alert, Giskard did so, and the archaeologist pulled them back towards the spaceship.

"Doc…What the Heck's going on?!" Giskard asked again, now frantic.

"This place is waking up." Dr. Jones said quietly, trying not to betray the fear in his voice. "The monsters are returning."

Giskard couldn't believe his ears. "What?"

From the opposite side of the cavern, to the pathway they had yet to travel down, a figure emerged from the darkness. It shambled with bandages wrapped around its rotting frame, soulless eyes peering forth as it moaned again. It moved slow…but its mere existence was frightening enough. Dr. Jones knew what it was, of course.

A mummy. And the only other time that they had wandered these forgotten halls…

Giskard couldn't even scream. Only Dr. Jones' quick recovery from shock, and his subsequent hard push sent Giskard running towards the path they'd come from, with Dr. Jones and his tightly held lantern swinging behind them.

"We don't have the time…No time!" Dr. Jones shouted now, his terror more apparent. "We have to get to Sub-C and get out of here!"

"Doc, I don't understand…" Giskard whimpered, trying desperately to not let fear overcome him. As they charged down the pathway they had previously walked, Giskard watched the pools of ocean water begin to rise, slowly creeping up over stonework and small patches of grassy terrain. "Why is this happening?!"

Dr. Jones said nothing, but the look on his face revealed that there was a fear in his heart he refused to make known.

More than ever before in his life, Giskard wished he possessed even the smallest bit of Shilivre in him, if only to discern what Dr. Jones knew…and what, in these already strange ruins, had him so frightened.

Behind them, the one moan slowly was increased by awakened others.

---

The embers of firelight cast up and around the village, quiet and empty save for the old woman hunched over the glow, and himself, sitting cross-legged a quarter of the fire's rotation away. She carried a whimsical smile, her old and bony frame hidden underneath her ornate dress and the shawl covering it. Her official headdress was removed, making the Shaman seem far more at ease with her surroundings, less powerful, less impressive.

Reaching into a bag of what looked like sand beside her, she cast out a handful of the material, receiving a dark blue flash and a sweet smelling cloud of smoke for the effort.

"Much has happened since we found ourselves here." She said quietly, glancing over the licking flames towards him.

Mike's own vision never left her, or the campfire. The same blue haze seemed to surround him, guiding his thoughts in an inevitable direction. "I asked you once what was going to happen next."

"And I recall saying that only the stars knew the answer, Michael Jones." She answered, rocking gently back and forth. "That much has remained the same."

Mike grew angry. "But did you see what I just did?! I'm not supposed to be able to do that!"

"You were attacked. You defended yourself."

"Blast it, Bana, stop being so damned cryptic and talk straight! That was Shilivre! Shilivre!"

"The power of the Argonians?" Bana chortled. "How can you be so sure?"

"I…" Mike began, stopping himself. "How else could I have stopped him?"

Bana shrugged.

"Blast it, if only I knew…"

"Knew what?"

"Everything!" Mike shouted, throwing his arms up into the air, his nose stinging from the smoke peeling off of the embers. "Nothing! Something! What's going on with me?"

"Only the stars…"

"Yeah, yeah. Only the stars know." Mike interrupted, pounding a fist into the side of his leg.

Bana folded her arms, looking at him for a long moment. "There was once…a man who was able to speak with the stars. Commune with them. In so doing, he received their wisdom and their guidance."

"The Starseer." Mike concluded, exhaling. "They think I'm him."

"Who does?"

"The Argonians…" Mike closed his eyes. "All because…All because I saved them. And just now, after what I just did…"

"And do you think you are he?"

"No!!" Mike blasted bitterly. "I don't believe in that! I can't! If it's true, if I am, then it was all foreordained…And I never had any freedom at all!"

Bana nodded slowly, reaching for the bag of sand.

"It's all so messed up…" Mike finished, running a hand through his hair.

"It will be." Bana reassured him. "For now. But whether or not legends are true…that will always rely on your own perspective. Do you believe yourself to be the Starseer reborn?"

"No."

"Then you are not." Bana said simply. "In that much, you have freedom. We all are given the freedom to follow a path others believe belongs to us…or to forge our own."

"But which one is the right one?"

Bana smiled cryptically, pulling out a massive handful of the fire powder.

"Ask the stars."

She threw the powder onto the fire, and everything was lost in blue smoke.

---

Coralcola Island

3:34 P.M.

When he awoke, there was the faint smell of burning wood and light smoke in the air around him, but it wasn't blue. Not in the slightest. He tried to move, but his body screamed at him for the attempt, and he sunk back with a groan.

He was in a hammock, he realized that much. Not long after, something cold and damp pressed against his forehead. A towel.

"Finally awake, are you?" Came her gentle voice.

Mike breathed in and out a few times, against the complaints of his bruised ribs. "Ezilian isn't a pushover."

"No, but you were also holding back." Mica reminded him. "He…he wasn't."

Despite his injuries, Mike managed a weak laugh. "I think he was overdue for something like that." He cringed at the last, sinking back down into the hammock. "Cripes…"

Mica rested a hand on his chest, frowning. "Your injuries…bad?"

"Just well placed." Mike managed weakly. "What did he…"

Mica said nothing, and Mike cleared his throat to continue. "What did he…do after…After…"

His voice trailed off for a moment, and he sighed, shaking his head. "Mica, did I…Use Shilivre?"

She closed her eyes, and her face scrunched up into deep thought for a moment.

"Yes." She finally said. "Every one of us that was there felt it. You stopped his mindblasting, and then you stopped his psychic grenade."

Michael at last opened his eyes, his mind at last reaching towards full comprehension of his surroundings. He was in Bana Omoy's hut, from the odd decorations. Mica was sitting in a chair beside his hammock, a concerned and distant look in her eyes. She pulled the towel back, looking at him again. She didn't say anything, and it seemed to Mike that she was afraid to.

Gently, he pulled himself up into a half sitting position in the cot, feeling the soreness give way a bit through determination and time. "How?"

Mica closed her eyes. You used Shilivre, she repeated. Mike blinked at that, suddenly aware that she hadn't opened her mouth.

"What the…" Mike said suddenly, caught off guard entirely.

Mica's face went ashen. "And you can understand it now, too."

"I shouldn't be able to." Mike rationalized, trying to keep his wits about him.

"But you can."

So what?! He countered mentally, a thought he echoed in his own mind so loudly that it took him a few moments to realize that it had followed Mica's open channel…

She flinched. Oh, God…Mike began, his heart nearly stopping. I…I can't be using…

Mica severed the connection forcibly, turning away from him. "But you are."

Mike's head began to hurt again. He leaned back in the hammock and pressed a palm against his forehead. "This is all just way too bogus." He uttered weakly.

Mica was quiet.

"I mean…I can't be. I can't. I'm Mike Jones. Just Mike…right?"

She remained silent.

"Darnit, say something!" Mike cried out in panic, reaching a hand towards her shoulder. When he touched her, she jumped away as if his very touch could burn her.

She moved towards the edge of the hut, her arms folded protectively around her.

"Please, Mica." Mike pleaded, his voice trembling.

"You're afraid." She observed, her own tone unstable.

Yes. He was frightened enough that he switched between open broadcasts and his usual speech…she could pick up on both with ease.

"Then I'm not alone in it, at least." She whispered. She turned to face him, some measure of resolve restored in her lithe frame.

Mike…Shilivre can do many things. As you saw from Ezilian…it can cause great harm. But in the right hands, it can guide your actions, enhance your wisdom…and even work miracles.

"How?"

Start…Start by focusing on your injuries. Mica continued, some measure of her reluctance fading in the exacting procedures she described.

That was a simple enough task for Mike; ignoring the pain had been difficult, but connecting to them took little effort.

Like it or not…there is Shilivre in you. Somehow, you've become awake to it.

I thought it was a power only the Argonians could wield!

The Argonians and the…Mica began, halting suddenly. She squinted her eyes shut and waved a hand in front of her eyes, quickly erecting a haze around herself that ended the open telepathic link Mike had reopened. It was strong enough to stay in place.

There had been a reason for it, though. Just before she had cast it, Mike had felt a dread arise in her as she approached the sentences' conclusion.

Something she knew…That only she knew.

"Imagine your Shilivre growing around you…making your entire body warm." She continued. "Imagine it taking hold of you, bringing you to contentment."

Mike, lost in a swirling sea of thoughts about everything about him, took a long time to carry out the steps she described.

But at last it came. It was a power he barely knew…but the feeling of warmth that it suddenly emoted was something blatant. Something he could latch onto with ease. So he did…

And when the light cleared around him, he found his injuries lessened. His ribs no longer bruised. Able to breathe and move in complete comfort once again.

Only a dull sensation of fatigue in his mind remained…A side effect of his procedure, he thought.

Mica leaned against the wall of the hut, needing the support. "You did it." She whispered.

Slowly, Mike stood up and moved beside her, grasping her by her shoulders to hold her up. "What did I do?" He pleaded. "How can I use Shilivre?"

"I…I don't know!" Mica responded, panicking.

"Yes, you do!" Mike shouted at her, terror in his face. "You know something! So what do you know? What am I?! Who am I?!"

YOU'RE MIKE!! She screamed at him, forcing him to stumble backwards from the force of the telepathic message.

She sank to her knees, hands clutching at her head. Because if you're not…If you're…

"Tell me." Mike begged, kneeling beside her. "The Starseer…I heard the others…they called me the Starseer. Ezilian fought me to prove something, to prove that I wasn't, but…"

Mica looked up, her face running with tears and red. "Your weapon…Your adventure…how you saved us, and just now…They all point to the validity of the Prophecy of the Starseer."

"The Starseer said he would return." Mike argued. "Shouldn't the Starseer be Argonian?! Last time I checked, I was human!"

Mica began to say something, but it caught in her throat, and she bit her tongue to prevent even a whimper from escaping.

Mike closed his eyes. "You're still hiding something from me."

Mica said nothing.

The door to the hut opened, and a familiar figure strolled in, leaning on her mystical staff for support. The wrinkled, but wise form of Bana Omoy walked in, a serene look on her face.

She glanced down at the two of them, kneeling on the floor and obviously in a tender moment. "I do hope I'm not interrupting anything." She said, in that unsettling calm fashion of hers.

Slowly, Mike and Mica stood up, the boy better able to quiet the screams and doubts in his mind to a manageable degree. "No, not really."

"Good." Bana exhaled, wandering over to the other side of the hut and easing into her chair. "Good. Still, I am glad to see you up and about. And no worse for the wear, apparently…"

The Shaman let her sentence hang, giving the two time to think. Mike lifted an eyebrow, suddenly concerned. "The others…The Village!"

"The Village?"

"When Ezilian…used his power? How did the villagers react?"

"Naturally, they are frightened." Bana stated, glancing over to the Princess. "They thought that Princess Mica and the others to be harmless…Ezilian's fight with you has added an unsettling aspect to our relationship."

Mica shook her head. "Then…are we being asked to leave?"

Bana snorted. "Heavens, no. I had to impress quite a bit of authority through my brother, but I've restored the peace…their ease of mind will take some time, though."

Mica relaxed at that, but Bana clucked her tongue. "Still…To have Mike demonstrate such a similar power…"

The two teenagers both winced at the reminder, and wise Bana cleared her throat. "Well, this is not the time for such matters. We must first see to restoring the tranquility of Coralcola…a task that will not be easy. The broader questions will have to wait."

There was a look of gratitude in Mica's eyes as she approached the shaman. "So what do we have to do?"

Bana shrugged. "You, my dear, should likely go and meet with your people. You have spent all afternoon looking over Mike, and they have been wanting for your leadership."

Mike blinked and looked at her. "All afternoon?" He questioned, lifting an eyebrow. Mica blushed, ignoring him.

"I'll go right away then." She concluded, dashing out the door.

"Mica, wait!" Mike called out, starting after her. The shaman extended her arm, stopping him short.

"This is her task, Michael Jones. Not yours." She chastised him.

Mike blew out a puff of air in disgust, then blinked. "Oh, God."

"What?"

"…This afternoon. The fight…" Mike worded slowly, turning up to her with a sense of dread.

Bana Omoy nodded. "Yes?"

"…They know. They all know now. About Mica…and me."

"That would seem to be a given, yes."

The Earth boy closed his eyes. "Cripes."

"Something troubles you?"

"How are they going to react? I mean, Ezilian…he was angry at me before Mica and I…but the others?"

Bana smiled. "They seem to have far worse things on their mind…But do not worry. Mica is going to talk to them, and they will ask her. She'll straighten them out."

Mike shook his head. "It's a really bad way for them to find out."

"Do you regret your relationship?"

"No!" Mike said quickly, his voice a protesting bark. "No…" He walked over to Bana, shaking his head. "Not for a second."

"Then don't worry about what they think." Bana concluded. "You have larger issues at hand."

Mike ran a hand through his hair. "I…I wish Uncle Steve was here. Maybe he could make sense of everything that's been happening."

The shaman fixed him with a curious gaze. "And what is there to make sense of?"

"I used Shilivre, didn't you see?!" Mike exclaimed. "That's not supposed to happen!"

"Oh? Why not?"

"I'm not Argonian!"

"True, you are not."

"…The Starseer."

"Hmm?"

"Don't play coy with me, Bana." Mike said, narrowing his eyes at her. "You know what I'm talking about."

The shaman folded her arms into her sleeves, glancing back at him coldly. "Really?"

"Ezilian nearly went berserk because he thought I was the Starseer. And after what I just pulled…Lord knows everyone else has to be thinking that too."

Bana smirked.

And tell me when you've ever cared about what anyone else ever thought.

Mike's eyes went wide, his jaw dropping to the floor. "Wha…?"

Bana cackled a bit, rubbing at her eye. "I thought that might get your attention."

"You just used…"

"Used what, Mike?" Bana asked. "Shilivre?" The shaman walked over to him, resting a gnarled hand on his shoulder. "Do not trouble yourself with thoughts of who you are. You are Mike, and that is enough. True, there has been a power awakened in you. True, it is as the same gift that the Argonians use."

That I use. She said, speaking with her mind without missing a beat.

The shaman patted his shoulder consolingly a few times, then turned and motioned to the door. "For now, though, you would do well to show everyone that you are up and about, and no worse for the wear. Mica will likely need your help to settle the villagers down; my brother can only do so much."

Mike nodded numbly at that. "I'm…I'm just Mike then, eh?"

Bana shrugged. "You smile as Michael Jones does. You run as he does. You talk as he does. Nothing can change that. Do not trouble yourself with anything more."

The boy quietly motioned his agreement to that, moving to the door with painstaking slowness. He paused at the exit and looked back to the shaman, pursing his lips.

"Just…Just how much do you know?"

Bana smiled at that and tucked her arms into her sleeves.

Only as much as the stars tell me.

She motioned to him. "Go. The living have no place in my hut at this hour."

Despite his now furious maelstrom of questions and doubts, Mike chuckled at the small joke and left, shaking his head.

Now alone in the hut, Bana tottered over to her chair and sat down, closing her eyes with a pained, wheezing sigh.

"Do not concern yourself with such trivial questions, Michael. The storm will guide you to your ultimate truth when the time comes."

---

The Argonians were all clustered inside of the Island Chief's large hut, dazed and lost in their own worry. Only Rozlyn, the blissful 6 year old seemed undisturbed. Dark and looming thoughts did not trouble her as much as they did the other, older children…Especially not when Chief Omoy had given her paper and crayons to play with.

The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife when Mica walked into the hut, glancing at them all. Off in the corner, dejectedly gnawing at another vegetable stalk, Hapo stood up and bowed to the Princess.

"Your highness." Hapo said calmly.

Mica nodded a return to him. "Chief Omoy."

Hapo motioned to the Argonians collected; Amethyst, Rozlyn, Bakusian and Marlin. "They've been waiting quite anxiously for you to come talk with them. I thought it best if they would stay here for a while, especially after…Well, especially after what Ezilian did earlier."

Mica prevented herself from wincing. "Yes, that seems a wise move. Thank you, Hapo."

"You're quite welcome." The Chief said with a nervous smile. "I'll leave you be with them then. Just don't burn the place down or anything, all right?"

The Princess fixated him with a slightly annoyed look, causing the Chief to laugh and scratch at his head nervously, heading outside with more speed than was necessary.

Only once he had left the hut did Mica's composed visage melt away. "Damnit!" She swore, pounding a fist against her thigh. "Ezilian, you fool…you've ruined everything."

"The Islanders…" Marlin began unsteadily. "They're afraid of us now."

"They're afraid of our powers, you mean." Bakusian added quietly. "I don't blame them. Shilivre's always been a dangerous thing in angry hands."

"And they didn't get much angrier than Ezilian earlier today." Amethyst finished, rubbing at her forehead. The girl looked as if she'd been crying recently, from the redness around her eyes. She looked to Mica. "How…How's Mike?"

"He's fine." Mica reassured them. "A little shaken from the experience, but…he's fine."

"Shaken, Hell." Marlin scoffed. "If I just woke up one day and suddenly found I could use a mystical force only a bunch of aliens were previously capable of using, I'd be more than shaken."

"True, but then, it wasn't long ago he also had to deal with the realization that aliens existed, now was it?" Mica added, lifting a finger. "He has a strong will and a good heart. Those two things keep him leveled."

"So…you and Mike?" Bakusian questioned shyly. "How long?"

Mica's face drew taut for a moment, but she released the tension with a sigh. "A few days now."

"And your betrothal to Ezilian, then?" Marlin prodded. "What of that?"

"Ezilian's a bad man!" Rozyln suddenly piped up, frowning as only a young girl could. "He's poopy!"

Amethyst rested a hand on her sister's shoulder. "Go color some more, Rozlyn. The big kids need to talk for a while longer." Rozlyn, easily distracted, ran off to do just that.

Amethyst exhaled, shaking her head. "My…Sister is right. Ezilian was not faithful to his betrothal to Mica." She spoke slowly, trying to avoid sounding shaky, despite the nervousness that grew when curious Marlin and surprised Bakusian looked to her.

Mica looked at her, surprise evident in her eyes. Amethyst, you don't have to…

"Ezilian and I have been seeing each other since we were released from the stasis cubes!" Amethyst said sternly, pushing herself beyond her worries and embracing the moment. Stunned, Mica could do little but shake her head in wonder.

The girl was far stronger than she let on.

"You're…you're kidding me, right?" Marlin said, hoping for a joke.

"No joke." Amethyst replied miserably, lowering her head. "I…I do love him. But he's too conniving for his own good. He used me in his plot…to get rid of Mike and secure his position of power. Mica found out and nullified their arrangement, as was her right."

Marlin lifted an eyebrow at the girl. "So…you were a part of this?"

"Yes." Amethyst whispered shamefully.

Mica walked over to the girl and drew her into a hug, pressing her forehead against the girl's consolingly. "That's all in the past now." She turned around and glanced at them all. "Right?"

After a few moments, the two boys nodded in agreement, realizing that there was little left to object to. Mica pulled Amethyst's face up to look into her eyes. "Are you going to be all right?"

"I'll live." Amethyst laughed weakly. "But it isn't going to be easy for us for a while."

"What isn't going to be easy?" A new voice piped up, strolling in through the door with a blank look on his face. The Argonians all turned and looked at Mike as if they had never seen him before in their lives.

The focused attention made Mike stop walking in, looking confused. "What?"

It was Marlin who broke the interminable silence first, sighing with a shake of his head. "I'm sorry, Mike…It's just been a lot to take in. And you did use Shili…"

The Earth boy's face grew hard. "So what?"

Marlin blinked, taken aback. "Well, I mean, only the Argonians and the Star…"

"It doesn't matter." Mike said, shaking his head. "I never believed in legends myself. Well, maybe the Legend of Zelda." He smirked. "But don't think about it too hard. What happened, happened. I'm not the reincarnation of some heroic mythical figure. I'm just Mike. That's all I am."

His words carried a reassuring quality about them that put the confused Argonians at ease. Marlin's face softened back into a grin, Bakusian chuckled a bit and then looked about the room as if looking for something to eat, and Amethyst nodded, her own thoughts more distant. Rozlyn drew with her crayons, blissfully unaware of what had taken place.

Only Mica's face carried a troubled look for a few moments beyond the other Argonians' less worried minds. He noticed it with his watchful eyes, but when she noticed him staring in his direction, and shook it off to resume her usual blank stare.

"So is there anything else you've all got on your minds?" Mike asked slowly.

Bakusian shook his head after a moment, but Marlin, closest to the Seattle native, ventured a comment. "So…you and Mica, eh?"

Mike nodded once. "That all right with you?"

Marlin shrugged. "She broke it off with Ezilian. Other people's relationships aren't my business to begin with. So, whatever man. Just as long as I can still play ball with you."

At that, Mike relaxed his stance, nodding in relief. "Always." He clapped his hands together and looked around. "So, then. What's next?"

"Now, we have to assure the islanders that despite Ezilian's earlier outburst, we're not a danger to them." Mica said simply. She thought for a moment longer and frowned. "Speaking of which…has anyone seen Ezilian lately?"

The Argonians glanced at one another.

"Not since he ran off after losing the fight with Mike." Bakusian stated. "Why?"

"Well, it occurs to me that we might stand a better chance of resting their worries if we got him to apologize to them all." Princess Mica explained.

Marlin clucked his tongue. "Well, you know Ezilian. He's got a knack for disappearing when he wants to."

"So, one of us will have to go find him." Amethyst concluded. "I'll volunteer, if…"

"No."

They all stopped talking and looked to the person who had spoken. Mike slowly shook his head back and forth, lips pursed in thought. "No…This is mostly my fault to begin with. Besides, he and I need to patch things up. I'm not going to keep him as an enemy, so I'd rather fix the bridge."

"You sure, Mike?" Marlin queried. "I mean, Ezilian's not usually the kind of person who will warm up to people he's taken a dislike to…and he practically hates you."

"He's just confused." Mike argued. "All he and I need to do is clear the air. Besides, I know this island better than the rest of you. He couldn't have gone far, there are only so many hiding places on Coralcola."

Mica affixed a questioning gaze on him, leveling a thought. Mike…are you sure?

Mike smiled back at her, pushing his own doubts aside. Bana was right, he decided. He'd take his troubles as they came, and not get lost in worries. Do you trust me?

Mica shut her eyes. …Of course I do. All right then. You go find Ezilian. We'll deal with the islanders."

Their brief connection severed, met with ease and disengaged just the same. Still, the slightly glazed look that they had shared during their brief communication hadn't gone unnoticed, and Amethyst paled a little more as the boys shook their head.

"Even now, you can still do it." She murmured.

Mike shrugged, tucking his hands into his pockets as he walked over to Mica and gave her a brief hug, pressing his forehead to hers for a timeless moment. The embrace completed, he headed back for the door, glancing over his shoulder at them all.

"I'll be back with Ezilian. Count on that."

"Bring Ezilian back safely." Mica reminded him. Mike waved his hand behind him, disappearing out the reed mat doorway.

Behind the Princess, Amethyst shook her head.

"Mike…you come back safely too."

---

Outside, Hapo finished munching on his vegetable stalk just in time to see Mike stroll calmly out of his hut. The boy marched over to him, saving the island chief from having to call out to him.

"Is everything all right, Mike?"

"Everything's fine, Chief Coralcola." Mike smiled, patting the man on the arm. "Mica and the others are going to want to talk with everyone, though."

The Chief nodded. "That can be arranged. It will take a little more convincing until they become sure that there's no danger from the Argonians. My sister and I already know that they're all right."

"They just have a few talents we don't, is all." Mike agreed.

"Apparently, it's a talent you share." Hapo replied cryptically.

Mike stared back at him, by now tired of having people question him or even mention the possibility of him possessing Shilivre. "Perhaps." Mike glanced sideways, looking around the village. "But maybe you can help me. Mica's put me in charge of looking for Ezilian. You didn't happen to see which direction he ran?"

Hapo thought for a moment, then nodded his head. Extending his arm, he pointed northwards, to the far end of the village and the woods beyond. "He ran that direction. I don't blame you…you were really beaten up at the end of your fight." Blinking as if looking at the boy for the first time since he'd stepped out of the hut, Hapo frowned. "How come you can still move after a beating like that?"

Mike shook his head. "Just lucky, I suppose."

The look that Hapo fixated on him let the boy know that the island chief didn't believe him for a moment, but despite that, he sighed and stepped back, moving out of his way. "I hope you find Ezilian, my boy."

"So do I." Mike said shortly, heading on his way. Hapo blinked at the boy as Mike took off in a jog, losing his attention in an instant as Mica and the others finally stepped out of his large hut.

Mica walked up to him, eyes focused. "Chief Coralcola?"

"Yes, Princess?"

Mica drew in a breath and let it out slowly. "We've…talked. We want to apologize to the villagers. Calm their fears."

Hapo smiled and put a hand on her shoulder. "I thought as much. Well, no time like the present. Shall we then?"

Mica turned back to the others, receiving nods from Marlin, Bakusian, and Amethyst. Little Rozlyn, sour that she had been taken away from her coloring, hung dejectedly off of Amethyst's arm and said nothing.

Mica turned back to the chief. "Absolutely." And the look in her eyes meant it.

---

Mike was correct when he said he knew the island backwards and forwards; between his initial explorations leading up to his strange adventure, and the time after the Argonians first appeared, he had been given plenty of time to observe and memorize the surroundings.

Thus, he had a fairly good guess where Ezilian might have run off to, especially if he had wanted to avoid any followers. It was that inkling that now took him down the trap door of the bath-house on the north side of the village. It connected to the underground waterways that the Coralcolans often tried to avoid, but which steadfastly remained.

"Too bad for Ezilian that everything down here died off when I saved him and the others." Mike chuckled, clambering down the ladder and turning about, narrowing his eyes.

The Coralcola Caverns remained much the same, having even the same smell about it. Mike knew that farther beyond, in the first cavern connected from the entryway he had landed in, he would find the pitching range that he and Marlin had set up. Ezilian might have stopped there, or he might have pushed in farther. As it was, Mike knew little of the older boy's mental state. He might have done something rash, though he hoped against it. To that, he shrugged his shoulders and pushed on.

The first room was just as he left it; tin cans were stacked up on the rock on the far side of the room, and a bag of baseballs, or horsehides as Mike liked to call them, was lying on the near side. A sound caught his attention, though; a sound that had clearly not been there before.

Or at the least…a sound he had thought extinguished a month ago.

The rattling and hissing of foul vermin, writhing about and glaring at him with yellow eyes. Mike froze for a moment, caught in disbelief.

"Snakes?" He whispered in surprise. As if to answer him, one of the island pythons lunged in his direction, and Mike jumped up into the air, watching as it passed harmlessly underneath his feet. Darting quickly, Mike moved towards the bag of baseballs, jumping again as the same snake passed by him again. "Damn!" He swore, landing on his side by the bag, his hand wrapping around one of the baseballs that had tumbled loose from the bag.

The snake coiled about, baring its fangs menacingly and lunging at the now prone boy with murder in its bestial eyes. Had Mike hesitated, he would have been bitten, and taken an injury that would have left a dent in him long ago. Now, perhaps it would do little more than scratch at his newfound vitality. Nonetheless, it was an injury he wanted to avoid.

Instinct took over again, and his arm whipped up and in front of him, launching the baseball into the snakes' mouth with teeth-cracking force. The snake seemed to hang in midair for a moment, then collapsed to the ground, its skull crushed by the blow.

Mike panted, realizing how close that had come to getting ugly. "Snakes…I thought I took them all out when I first came through here!"

I mean…even when Marlin and I were practicing down here, there was just the occasional rat. Snakes were NEVER this close to the entrance…snails, yes, but snakes?

More hissing caught his attention, and Mike snapped to his feet. Narrowing his eyes in the relative darkness, he pulled out a few more baseballs and lobbed them with deadly accuracy at the sources of noise.

A few seconds later, the soft thuds of ball against leathery skin signified his success, and the hissing stopped. Mike brushed the now visible line of sweat from his brow, shaking his head. "Good grief, what's happened to this place? They must have had some hidden nests I didn't know about…"

He nodded his head, sure of that. Yes, that had to be it.

He walked over to the far door leading further into the caverns, his eyes darkening.

A torn piece of Ezilian's shirt was caught on the rough rock surface next to the tunnel opening. He picked it up, noticing the color instantly with his now narrowed eyes. "Perfect."

His hunch had been correct, but after what he had just experienced, Mike had hoped desperately he'd been wrong.

"No time to worry about that now." He grumbled, looking about the room and the snake corpses. There were likely more further in.

A few seconds later, he had collected his thrown baseballs and slung the bag of projectiles over his shoulder. "I hope I won't have to use these." Mike mused quietly.

His yo-yo was gone; Giskard had it, after all.

And as for the Super Nova, that was back in his Uncle's laboratory. And he never wanted to use it again.

It had too much significance attached to it anymore…too many bad memories and troubling thoughts.

It was a weapon for the savior of the Argonians. Not a boy from Earth.

He pushed his musings aside and focused at the task at hand. "All right, Mike. Ezilian's somewhere deeper in the caverns. You've got no idea what you're going up against. You've got a bag of horsehides at the ready, your wits, and the experience gained from your island adventure."

His eyes focused into points.

"Let's dance."

---

Mike's initial surprise at the growth of the snakes may have been well founded, but it was not the end of his shock. Farther in, the snake population only grew, and more frightening was the appearance of creatures that he had only seen in other islands. The water level, being at high tide, had risen up into the caverns, making the terrain more dangerous for him. One wrong step would send him into the drink…And as Mike could never forget, he couldn't swim. Low tide was his friend, but that was now hours away.

And that was time that Ezilian, lost in this maze of caverns with newly recovered vermin, did not have. The boy had no weapons. And no matter how powerful he was with Shilivre's destructive potential…it wouldn't be enough. Not for long. Ezilian had Shilivre.

But Mike was stronger. In a straight out physical competition, he had proven that.

Another baseball lashed out, smashing into a rabid rat with sickening force and power. It squealed for a moment, then fell limp. Mike ran to retrieve the baseball, crying out in pain when a snake, partially concealed under the rat's corpse lunged out and bit through the fleshy part of his palm. Reacting quickly, Mike threw the snake off and smashed the heel of his shoe on the beast's head, gritting his teeth against the pain as he heard the skull crack and crush under his weight.

"Heinous…" Mike said haltingly, shaking off the beginning effects of the weak poison that the beast had pumped into his system. "No time. No time." No time for weakness, for pain. He drew the wound up to his mouth and sucked, tasting bitterness against his tongue. Quickly, he spat it out and onto the ground. That would help some…perhaps just enough for now.

The room ahead was filled with tracts of water that seemed larger than they had been before. But more jaw clenching was the screaming monkeys that danced about the room, limber and frenzied. Mike's hand tightened around the baseball in his hand. "Darnit, where are they all coming from?!"

The monkeys weren't here before…Monkeys were never on C-Island, never!

One of the beasts noticed him, but Mike silenced the creature with a baseball to the forehead before it could cry out and warn its comrades. Still, as the monkey tilted left and right and then fell backwards into the drink with a loud splash, they noticed his presence soon enough. Mike bared his teeth. "Brilliant."

The monkeys, now focused on him, reared their heads back and screeched loudly, then started bouncing around the room, making an inevitable course for him. Mike pulled out another baseball from his bag, timing his shot and knocking another simian into the waters. Another screeched and charged at him, knocking him to the ground with a howl as it began to claw at his face.

Mike felt a rush of adrenaline flow through him, and he swung his fist up into the side of the beast, knocking it off of him. Wincing as he brought himself back to his feet, Mike dug into his bag of baseballs and pulled out another one. "This is getting ridiculous. All right monkeys, yer OUT!" He shouted, hurling pitch after pitch throughout the room. The monkeys shrieked and howled as the horsehides landed, sending them scattering out of the room through tunnels only large enough for them.

Slightly winded from the sudden effort, Mike took a moment to recollect himself. "This is nuts." He said quickly, staring woefully at his dwindling supply of projectiles. He'd lost a few when they fell into the water with the monkeys, but unlike the unconscious simians who floated on the top, his weapon of choice sank like a stone. "Island monkeys…on Coralcola?" He echoed again, gritting his teeth. "Something's not right here."

And somewhere, deeper in the caverns, likely surrounded by things even more dangerous and more difficult than the few creatures he had seen so far, Mike reminded himself, was Ezilian.

Mica's voice, soothing and wise, reappeared in his mind as he remembered their earlier discussion about Shilivre.

In the right hands, it can guide your actions, enhance your wisdom…and even work miracles.

"And let me talk to people through telepathy, yeah." Mike begrudgingly agreed. He still didn't trust it, or really understand it. "But what else can it do…"

Maybe…it can help me find him.

So Mike closed his eyes, collected his thoughts. He let the warm feeling radiate from his center, come up, and appear behind his eyes.

It wasn't his usual vision, and it frightened him for a moment. A few moments of thought made him realize that this was precisely what he'd been trying to do.

He didn't see creatures, or surroundings as he normally would. Instead, it was as if every object carried a unique glow about it…From the dull and dead cavern to the brighter creatures that now scurried about…

Mike drew in a breath. "Holy cow…" He whispered, opening his eyes and ending the trance. "E…Ezilian?"

He had seen a humanoid figure in the cavern, shaking in terror from something else that had been hidden from his Shilivre aided sight. That figure glowed brightly, and Mike had no doubt that it was Ezilian.

"Ezilian, so help me…" Mike groaned, holding his bag of baseballs tighter as he charged on ahead.

The Seattle native had no time. Ezilian was being attacked.

---

The natives of Coralcola Island had their fair share of legends and wives' tales as anyone else would. One of the most famous ones that they kept was reserved to chastise disobedient children; a stern warning that if they didn't behave themselves, they would find themselves eaten by the sea serpent beneath the island in the caverns. To a foreign observer, this would be no different than warnings of the boogeyman, or Santa Claus leaving a lump of coal in ones' stocking.

To Ezilian, though, stories had come true. He had come to the caverns, dazed, stunned, and losing his mind. That situation was only made worse by the vast hordes of vermin and ill-tempered beasts that roamed the cavern. Unable to turn around, he had kept on going until he had reached the final antechamber to the exit.

The floor was virtually nonexistent, with only a few tiles hanging above the waves beyond the small patch of grass at the room's entrance. On the opposite side of the long chamber, Ezilian had nearly gone nauseous at the sight of a decomposing snake. What made it truly imposing was the size of it; had its tail end been uncoiled, it would have been longer than Hapo Omoy's hut from side to side. Fighting off the effect of the stench of the rotting flesh and buzzing flies and maggots, Ezilian tried to turn around to leave, only to find his exit blocked by a slab of stone that slammed down behind him.

The noise of that, and his curse had brought something else into the room. The water had rumbled and quivered for a moment, then given way to another giant serpentine head that moved up and out of the water, forked tongue flickering out for a moment as it looked down at him.

In his right mind, and with a little more courage, Ezilian could have fought against the beast and subdued it with his command of Shilivre. But he wasn't in his right mind. Confused, terrified, and now mentally exhausted, he could do little but succumb to the rising terror in his chest and cower in the corner.

It only surprised him further when Mike Jones, the same youth who was the cause of his distress, suddenly came through the same doorway he had been locked out of. Ezilian broke free of the snake's gaze to look up at the new arrival, stunned.

"Mike? What…what are you…"

"Saving your butt." Mike snapped. He looked up, meeting the hissing stare of the giant serpent above him. His gaze glanced down to the corpse of the C-Serpent he had destroyed a month ago in his first journey through the caverns. Something clicked in his mind, and he shook his head.

"Well, I'll be. C-Serpent had a mate." He exhaled.

Ezilian, their prior dispute forgotten in the terror of the moment, clutched onto his leg. "We have to get out of here!" Ezilian pleaded. "These…these caves, they're full of monsters!"

"I know." Mike said drily. "But we can't go out the way we came in. We have to keep going forward." Mike turned to look up at the snake. "Which means…we have to get through momma snake first."

Ezilian gulped. "You…you can take it down?"

Mike pulled another baseball from his dwindling bag and shrugged his shoulders, fear somehow beyond him as he stood in front of the beast. There was only one monster he had ever been afraid of.

And he was dead.

"Let's hope so." Mike replied coldly. "Just stay out of the way and watch my back."

Ezilian thought for a moment, then nodded, a bit of his superior air returning. "Do your stuff, Jones."

Mike jumped off of the grassy land and onto the first tile, staring down the beast in front of him. "I don't know why you and the rest of the critters in the caverns have decided to come back." He began slowly, fingering the ball in his hand, holding it behind his back. The snake bobbed back a ways, standing protectively in front of the corpse of its mate, its forked tongue sliding in and out as it sensed him.

Mike narrowed his eyes. "But you don't belong here. Last chance, monster. Get out of my way, or die."

The snake let out a ferocious warbling chirp and lunged at him, fangs bared. Mike reacted quickly, jumping up into the air with a powerful spring of his legs, his feet coming down on the snake's soft nose and slamming the sea serpent into the tile beneath them.

"You always have to do things the HARD WAY!" Mike shouted, lifting his right leg and slamming the heel down hard into the beast's snout. The snake roared in pain and pulled back, leaving a suddenly destabilized Mike to land hard on the bag of baseballs on the tile. His initial flash of pain was crystallized in sudden fright as he felt one of his feet slip into the water around them, and he snapped it back, rising to his feet.

His heart pounded, remembering in an instant why he never did like these caves.

He couldn't swim. One wrong fall would end it all.

"This ends now." He glowered, looking up at the beast.

The snake hissed back at him, then seemed to rear back for a moment as something collected in the sacs on the side of its head. Mike recognized the motion, jumping to a side tile as the snake belched out tremendous bursts of fire spheres that flew by him harmlessly. They impacted against the wall beside Ezilian, causing the Argonian boy to scream in sudden terror.

Mike looked at the fireballs, shaking his head.

Dang…She makes bigger ones than the C-Serpent did!

The snake turned about and fired again, coughing up more flammable wads from within its gullet at rapid speed. Mike yelped and jumped to the center, then left tile to avoid the firestorm.

And she's faster…Terrific.

The snake wheeled about, opening its mouth again as its bloated neck sacs filled with air for the next blast. Mike took his chance, hurling the baseball in his hand straight for the beast's throat. "Chew on that fastball!" Mike screamed at the beast.

The baseball flew straight and true, cracking against a tender spot of flesh in the back of the serpent's throat with wicked force. The snake's mouth slammed shut from the pain of the blow, then bulged out as the fireball it had been collecting exploded in its mouth. The monster screamed in pain and dove beneath the waves with its mouth open, now left with a weak warble after having its voicebox badly bruised.

Ezilian stood up to his feet and stared at Mike, who cautiously scanned the waves of the room. "Is…is it gone?"

Mike pursed his lips, reaching out with his senses.

Two seconds later, his hand reached back into the bag at his side and pulled out another baseball. "Not even." He rumbled angrily.

The C-Serpent's mate emerged, a few trails of smoky fumes curling from the corners of its mouth. If there was annoyance and a protective look in its eyes before, there was sheer murder in the sea serpent's expression now.

"Blast it, Mike! Use one of your weapons!" Ezilian cried out.

The snake lunged again, foregoing its firebreathing capabilities for a moment as it tried to recover. Mike dodged to the side, landing on another tiled platform, his eyes never leaving the beast. "Like what?!" Mike cried back.

"I don't know…your Super Nova!" Ezilian stammered.

"It's back at the laboratory!" Mike screamed.

"Then your yo-yo!" Ezilian hollered, panicking.

The snake reared up from its first strike, then plowed forth, not even bothering to try biting the boy, trying instead to ram him into the water.

Mike jumped up in the air and hurled another baseball into the beast's eye for its troubles.

"Giskard has it!!" Mike yelled.

Ezilian's fists clenched at his sides, struggling in disbelief. "You're an idiot!"

"And you're a real jerk, Ezilian! You got a point or are you just trying to get me killed?!" Mike shot back, weaving to the side as the snake narrowly missed him again.

"All I'm saying is a baseball isn't going to take it down!" Ezilian called out.

The snake hissed and lunged at Mike again, this time opening its mouth for a strike. It missed Mike, but snagged his bag of baseballs, the force of the blow jarring Mike enough to fall backwards and rip his weapons from him. Mike screamed in disbelief as the snake whipped its head about, throwing the last of his weapons into the waters beneath them.

"Well…it won't anymore." He uttered.

Mike suddenly felt very vulnerable. The snake reassumed its original position, seeming to gloat as it stared at the two boys in front of it. Mike's hand flexed at his side, searching for an option.

No weapons. His fists wouldn't put a dent in this thing. Sure, he could try running…but he'd promised to bring Ezilian back safe as well, and Mr. Ranuforte for all his bluffing likely couldn't outpace the snake as well as Mike was managing.

Whatever he decided to do, too, it would have to be fast. His endurance, already pushed to its limit today, was dwindling fast from the small nap he'd been able to capture under Mica's watch.

So Mike, taking a moment to recover while the snake gloated over them, did something desperate. He opened up his mind again, then reached to Ezilian.

Ezilian…Do you have any ideas?

The Argonian boy glared daggers back at him. How dare you…

DAMNITALL, JUST LISTEN! Mike screamed at him. Put aside that bogus wounded pride of yours for a few seconds and remember that we're fighting for our LIVES here! I've got nothing left! Nothing! So any options you might suggest…just SUGGEST them. Otherwise, we'll both end up dead and then where will we be? It's never my plan to die…and I'll be darned if I'm going to be dinner for some sea serpent!

Ezilian still fumed. You're not the Starseer. You're NOT, you can't…

I could give less of a damn, you arrogant meathead. Mike snapped. Starseer?! You said it yourself! LEGEND! This is real life, Ranuforte, so get it through your head. I don't CARE! I'm Mike Jones, that's IT! Shilivre or no Shilivre, THAT IS ALL I WANT!

Ezilian slumped against the wall, shaken by the ferocity of Mike's response.

"You…Mica must have been giving you some lessons." He finally said, his face white.

The snake reared back and flared out the sacs in its neck, drawing in air again.

"Aah, sheeeeoooot!" Mike groaned, jumping out of the way as the snake sent another barrage of fireblasts at him.

But for as powerful as Mica is…there are some things she wouldn't be able to teach you. Even if you have been practicing for a few days…

Urggh! Here's a wakeup call for you. Before today, I didn't even know what Shilivre WAS.

Wha…?! But, how could you…Pfah. Never mind, Jones. You want a suggestion, I've got one. One of the most simplest things we are capable of using Shilivre for is the creation of focused mental energy blasts…

You mean, what you pulled on me earlier today. Mike growled back, kicking the snake in the snout as it bit at him. You and me and the others are going to have a long talk when we get back…assuming we get back.

I'm not used to throwing in the towel, bub.

Ezilian got up to his feet, confidence and courage restored. Visible white energy reappeared around his body, and his pupils vanished in brilliant light. He lifted his hand up, extended his arm out straight and pointed the palm at the beast.

"Burn." He hissed.

A small, but potent and deadly quick blast of light shot out of his hand, burrowing into the snake's neck and exploding angrily. The beast reared back and howled in pain, and Ezilian grinned at the results.

If I were to apply a term to it, it would be called the Shockwave. That's one you can at least understand. So that's my idea, Jones. We blast it to Hell.

Mike shook his head. "I should have figured." He lifted his hand up, remembering how Ezilian had done it earlier in the day.

He focused his energy.

He quieted his thoughts. And he narrowed his attention to the snake alone. His hand came up.

But nothing came out. Mike's eyes came back open, disbelieving. "Oh, no…"

The snake's attention was solely on Mike still, unaware of the source of its earlier pain. But unlike all the times before, Mike hadn't been paying enough attention to manage any acrobatics.

The snake clamped down on his right leg and bit hard, one long fang piercing clean through skin and muscle and scraping alongside bone. Mike's eyes went wide and he screamed in terrible pain, the likes of which he'd never felt before.

The snake pulled back, and Mike, trapped in its maw, was dragged along with like a rag doll.

His body, overtaxed, slowly began to fade out as he was shaken about. A part of his hearing could barely make out the screams of Ezilian, and the sound of multiple Shilivre blasts being shot off. The serpent was in pain, but it refused to stop or give up. Blood dripped out of the puncture wound, making Mike wonder for a moment if the main artery had been hit.

He was certainly feeling lightheaded enough, separated from the world.

So this…is how I'm going to die, he thought for a moment. His mind flashed through his memories, running on a cycle beyond control. Pleasant sensations. Unpleasant ones. But one thing in his memory slowly began to wake a part of him out of his stupor. Crying…somebody screaming for me.

"MICHAEL!!" Came a disembodied voice, female and terrified. Maybe from his memories. Maybe from somewhere around him. Maybe from something he had just dreamed up. But he knew the voice.

Mica. Mica was calling to him.

And no matter what else was going on, that was one call he would always heed.

Below, Ezilian roared at the sea monster, watching as Mike was tossed about like a puppet, badly injured and bleeding to death. Mike had tried to focus his Shilivre into a potent psychic blast, and failed utterly. Bitterly, Ezilian fought on, trying his hardest to knock the beast into submission.

Telepathy was one of the simplest powers that Shilivre brought, if that was what Mike had.

Energy blasts were on an entirely different level.

"Come on Jones, fight back already…" Ezilian said through gritted teeth. "FIGHT!" To Ezilian Ranuforte, the situation seemed hopeless…for once the snake finished with Mike, it would come for him.

And then nobody would return back to the village.

In his slightly less addled mind, Mike focused on Princess Mica's voice, crying, calling out to him. Begging him to live. But to live, he had to be free of the snake. The snake, this sea serpent who had come to protect the corpse of her mate and to avenge him at the same time…or maybe it was something else, Mike wasn't sure…

It has to go.

Mike focused his stare on the monster, eyes still dull. Leave.

The serpent paused, its rage blunted by the sudden imposing thought. A curious look overtook it for a moment, and for as physically weak as Mike was, his thoughts only became stronger, compelled by something deeper in him long kept quiet.

LEAVE.

The serpent paused, waving back and forth in the air, lessening its grip on Mike just a tad.

Leave, and NEVER RETURN!!

The serpent winced, hissing for a long moment.

But the thought was received, and more importantly, obeyed.

Scarred and marred from the furious assault of Ezilian, the beast wobbled for a while longer, then slowly began to sink back into the water of the caverns, heading for the aqueous exit. Above the surface of the waves, it flicked its head to the side, hurling Mike's nearly lifeless body against the stony wall, increasing the pain to Mike's confused state and sending him into a world of stars and inky blackness.

He felt himself impact against something at first hard, and then smothering and cold in the same cue. It wrapped around him, or perhaps he sank into it. As it was, he heard his name being screamed. It sounded like a boy and a girl were doing it together, or maybe it was just one. His hearing died last.

Exhausted, the pain unendurable, Mike slipped into unconsciousness for the second time in the day.

It was a pleasant place, outside of the barely audible scream.

---

Mike felt pain when he woke up. He also felt lightheaded, disoriented, and drowning. Then a powerful blow impacted on his chest, and unable to do anything else in response, he reared up and felt a massive amount of water belch up from his lungs and stomach. He collapsed back down, not even able to draw the breath to groan in pain, for as much as he wanted to.

He lay there for a few moments, slowly recuperating himself. He heard a strange ripping noise, a curse being uttered, and then another ripping noise. Then he noticed that the air was blowing against the skin of his right leg…blowing against the still open and bleeding wound of his leg.

Damnit, damnit damnit…Jones, you've gotta stay with me, you've gotta live until we can get back to the village!

Mike could feel himself only getting weaker, unable to speak, but still able to think. But with his new strength…thinking was all he needed.

I'm…dying, aren't I?

Any other day of the week, I'd be glad to watch you perish and disappear from our merry little world. Ezilian snapped. But because you came looking for me, and the others are expecting you to come back with me…You'd damn well not.

Mike, lost in the haze of the moment, smiled in the face of his pain.

Aaw, how cute. So you do care…about yourself.

Mike felt a great deal of pressure applied to the wound in his leg, where it stayed.

This makeshift tourniquet won't stop it forever. If we don't get back to the island, you might lose this leg…or worse, die. By the stars…if only Mica were here, she could…

Mike chuckled in his thoughts, silencing Ezilian's frantic ramblings. She could what? Heal me?

He drew in a shallow breath and focused his thoughts, pushing them down to the wound in his leg…and to the damaged artery there. We don't need her for that.

Stunned, Ezilian watched as the wound, open but with the blood shunted from it by the tourniquet, began to glow brightly.

The artery mended itself, rejoining and sealing tightly shut. Skin and muscle quivered a bit, trying to pull themselves back together.

They only got so far before Mike's head fell to the side, and he panted in exhaustion.

Gah…That's…all I can do for now.

At last, he opened his eyes, struggling to look up to Ezilian.

There was a look of wonder, but also defiance in the Argonian's eyes.

"You're just full of surprises." Ezilian stated flatly. He looked around and shook his head. "You were going to drown after that snake was done with you…I could have let you die, you know." He suggested, a small bit of rage in his voice.

But you didn't.

Mike looked up at him, too tired to care about Ezilian's wounded pride…but somehow sure, that despite all his blustering, he wouldn't have no matter what. He was angry with Mike. Angry with himself and his situation. But not a murderer.

With his wound sealed, his body finally had an opportunity to set to work healing itself…Ezilian exhaled in disgust, then lowered his hand and helped Mike to his feet.

"Don't be making this a tradition."

"What?" Mike croaked. "I come to save you…and you end up saving me in the process?" He winced as his weight gave out from under him, and Ezilian caught him on his fall, lifting him back up and forcing the earth native to lean against him.

"No." Ezilian grunted from the added weight. "Treating me like a crutch."

Leaning on the Argonian to support him, Mike noticed for the first time how the Argonian's clothes were dripping wet.

For as much as Ezilian complained…he had saved him.

"Come on." Ezilian grunted, starting their walk. Mike looked down, noticing that they were on the opposite side of the chamber, beyond where they had fought the sea serpent. "We have to keep going."

"The exit's just ahead." Mike slurred.

"Fantastic." Ezilian muttered. "But look at you. Some kind of hero. Hobbling along on a wounded leg, barely conscious…"

"I never said I was a hero." Mike wheezed, shaking his head. "That's something you and the others keep pushing on me."

Ezilian turned his head around, gazing at the water.

"What?" Mike asked.

"That sea serpent…I want to believe I just hit it enough that it decided we weren't worth the trouble, but…It still had a lot more vitality to go. So if I didn't make it leave…what did you do?"

"Maybe I tasted bad."

"That's a load of bull."

"You wouldn't like the real answer."

"I never do." Ezilian glowered. "But tell me anyway, or I swear you're crawling home."

Mike closed his eyes. "I told it to leave."

There was silence for a few moments as they trudged along, and curious, Mike opened his eyes back up and stared at the Argonian.

Ezilian was gazing at him in further disbelief.

"What?" Mike complained. "I'm already a freak, don't go making me feel worse."

"But you…you…"

Mike shook his head. "Did something I wasn't supposed to be able to? Used Shilivre in a way that only Argonians with years of experience should be able to? Totally biffed my landing after the snake hit me?"

Mike felt Ezilian's hand tighten on his shoulder for a moment, then the Argonian sighed in disgust and looked back ahead.

"Let's just get back home."

Mike pursed his lips for a moment. "Ezilian?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you know why I came after you?"

"To rub salt into my wounds, most likely."

"Wrong. Because you and I had to resolve a few differences."

"You don't think you're the Starseer, right?" Ezilian interrupted.

"…Yeah."

"Then that's my big one." Ezilian snorted, shaking his head. "Anything else is just crying over spilt milk…because as long as you're not the Starseer…something that shouldn't even be possible, because you're NOT Argonian…then you're just a strange little freak. And I can accept that."

"That's awfully nice of you." Mike wheezed, closing his eyes and letting Ezilian lead them on.

Their conversation ended, Ezilian did just that.

---

Coralcola Village

4:37 P.M.

The villagers had been afraid of them, true enough. But eventually, through Hapo, Bana, and Mica's combined efforts to prove that they were still children who wished no harm to anyone, the tensions that had seeded through the village ended with much appreciated relief. Powers or no powers…

Coralcola was the only family they had left. And they wouldn't risk that for anything. Still, as the time passed, a curious thought began to work its way through them all. Mike had left almost two hours ago in search of Ezilian…and the island was small enough that if you ran, you could make it from one side to the other in twenty minutes.

Bana's warnings about a weather shift had set Hapo and the other villagers into a flurry of activity, making preparations for the coming summer squall. Only Mica and the other Argonians had the time left to worry about where Mike was, if he'd found Ezilian…

And if the two were still tearing each other apart.

As the sun began its inevitable descent to nightfall, not yet pink, but approaching it at its leisurely pace, the Argonians were still congregated in the middle of the village, anxiously waiting. Watching from the shadowed doorway of her hut, Bana looked on with minor interest.

Mica and Amethyst looked the worst, sitting at one of the tables, eyes downcast. Rozlyn colored a picture of all of them, still merrily oblivious to anything wrong. As for Bakusian and Marlin, the two had settled into a game of cards, occasionally glancing up to the north section of the village, searching for some sign of Mike's returned presence.

At the moment, Bakusian's face was scrunched up in concentration, looking at his hand. "Do you have any 6's?"

Marlin grinned at him. "Go fish."

Mica shook her head again. "He should have come back by now."

Amethyst glanced over at the Princess. "Hmm?"

"Mike." Mica stated, though it was obvious to begin with. "He knows this island like the back of his hand. Finding Ezilian should have been easy…"

"He's fine." Amethyst reassured her, patting her shoulder. "They're both fine."

Mica smiled weakly. "Yes, I suppose you're right."

"Of course I am." Amethyst nodded brightly. "It's not like something tried to eat them, or…"

Her voice caught in her throat as her wandering eyes caught movement at the edge of the forest clearing that connected to the village. Two figures, one limping and dragging itself along weakly, the other supporting the first, slowly shuffled into the village.

Mica rose to her feet, the horror in her eyes preventing her from speaking. It was Marlin who gasped and spoke first.

"MIKE!" He cried out. They could all see how hurt the boy was, the massive injury to his leg, the pale look on his face. Ezilian remained stonefaced, dragging the boy along.

Mica and the others ran up to them, and Ezilian was glad to drop Mike into the more concerned hands of Marlin and Bakusian, who let him lie on the ground, but leaned his back against Bakusian's pillowlike chest.

Mica appeared in front of Ezilian, rage and pain on her face. "What did you DO to him?!" She snapped, swinging her hand about to slap him across the face. Ezilian's hand came up and caught hers, blocking the shot. She squirmed as he tightened his grip around her wrist, the boy's eyes flickering.

"I didn't do this to him, Mica."

"LIAR! After what you did earlier, you…"

"Mica, enough!" Mike cried out, gasping for air. His hand, raised up towards her, dropped weakly back to his midsection as she turned around to look at him. Ezilian let go of her hand and moved a few steps away. "He…He's right. It wasn't him."

Bana moved out of the shadows and appeared in the midst of them all, resting a hand against Mike's chest, feeling his shallow breathing. "You're badly hurt." She said, even if it was obvious. "So what did happen?"

The walk had taken its toll on Mike, and now safe again, he let his body begin to shut down.

"Mike!" Bana cried out, shaking him. "Answer me! What happened?!"

Weakly, his eyes rolled open again, and he fixated a glance on the old shaman.

"The caves…the monsters…returned…" His eyes fell shut, then his head rolled to the side as he collapsed into the sleep of exhaustion.

Ezilian harrumphed, shaking his head. "I ran into the caves, thinking nobody would follow me…But the place was alive, and full of creatures who all wanted nothing more than to see me hurt. Mike came after me…And he…"

His voice trailed off for a moment, and then Amethyst walked over to him, squeezing his arm. "What? What did Mike do?"

"A giant snake came up out of the water…Mike saved me." Ezilian finished begrudgingly. He glanced over at Mica. "There. Are you happy now, Princess? Your little plaything saved my life."

Mica's bright eyes glared daggers into him, and for a moment, Ezilian's bitter demeanor weakened. "He is NOT my plaything. He's Michael Jones."

"He's the Starseer!" Bakusian cried out.

Every Argonian turned and looked at him. It was Mica who moved first, a grave and quiet look overtaking her as she moved beside Mike's sleeping body and rested his head into her lap. "I hope not." She whispered.

Bana's wrinkled arms folded into her sleeves, worry evident. "The monsters have returned to the caverns…An ill omen, especially with a storm on the way."

Marlin looked up at her. "What does it mean?"

The shaman turned her head up to the slowly shifting early night sky, looking up to the stars they could not yet see.

"It means death." She finally said. "Death is coming."

"To Coralcola?" Bakusian asked, worried.

"To everywhere in the Islands of the Southern Cross." Bana Omoy replied.

It was Marlin who first realized the implications of that statement.

"Oh no…" He whispered. "Everywhere…But then…" He stood up, eyes afraid. "Giskard!! Dr. Jones!"

The Argonians all looked at one another, realization dawning on them.

If at Coralcola, the most peaceful of the islands, monsters powerful enough to badly injure Mike had appeared…

---

Howduyadocola

Underwater Ruins

5:00 P.M.

The two had run for their lives, and still were attacked on the way. Vengeful water spirits created dangerous spheres of their domain and cast them at the fleeing men, more and more of the mummies like the one they had seen before rose up from the wet soil, nearly more skeleton than reanimated flesh, and all around them was the baleful moans and wails of those who sought to create death.

Still, they had only gone in about halfway through the ruins before they had turned around to escape…Every so often, one of the creatures had come a little too close, and then Giskard, armed only with the yo-yo Mike had given him, had fought it off long enough to flee.

"We're…almost there…" Dr. Jones panted, his age and pot belly at last catching up to him. Giskard was similarly winded, but in better condition. Still, he too was glad that they were reaching the exit. "Once we get to Sub-C…We'll dive and get out of here…Have to call back, tell everyone what's happened…" Dr. Jones continued to wheeze out.

The tunnels transformed back from the ruins of an actual structure into the mossy and damp walls they had met when they entered. Dr. Jones grinned, despite himself, and ran a little harder, at last pacing up with Giskard who barreled on with little regard for anything. "It's just around this corner, and then…"

They burst around the corner, their footsteps echoing off of the cavern walls. The glimmering hope in Dr. Jones' spectacled eyes died in an instant, and his feet ground to a sudden halt as he and Giskard at last saw Sub-C, their shimmering yellow floating hope waiting.

In the quiet glow of the nearly fluorescent seawater, their hearts stopped cold in their chest as they realized that they were not alone in the cavern entrance. An armored, wiry hand brushed along the side of Sub-C, curious and amused at the same time.

Even from behind, the familiar vision in front of the two explorers inspired terror.

The horned helmet tilted back down, coming level with broad shoulders. "A strange craft…meant to sail an ocean of water, not the stars." Came the low and powerful voice, calm but rumbling in its strength. In the cool and slow breeze that whistled through the cave, the figure's dark purple cape flared out behind him. "You humans really do never cease to surprise me."

Slowly, the figure turned, and Giskard, horrified to the point he could no longer talk, clung to Dr. Jones as a frightened child…which, in fact, he was.

Glowing red eyes bored out from underneath the thick and dark horned helmet of the dark warrior. "Aah, Professor…Jones. What a welcome surprise."

The archaeologist tried unsuccessfully to quell his trembling heart, then stumbled backwards a bit. The dark warrior clacked his armored fingertips together, glancing at the Argonian youth. "Hmm?" The glowing red eyes narrowed, and Giskard felt an intrusive presence blast into his brain. Unable to scream, his mouth went wide, managing a weak wheeze. "Giskard…Rorth, is it? Aah, yes. I didn't think I would find one of the Argonian whelps here. Perhaps the stars do smile on me."

The eyes narrowed a bit. "What? No attack? No focused mental retaliation?"

Giskard trembled, still unable to speak. The dark figure's eyes relaxed, and then it laughed, a cruel and rumbling guffaw.

"Why, you poor, misbegotten bastard. A mule, are you? That is ironic indeed."

Dr. Jones, able to think without fear as he recovered, and the warrior was kept busy looking at Giskard, dug into his back pocket and pulled out the same small remote he had taken from Nav-Com when they had embarked from their submarine.

Ever so gently, he lifted it up to his mouth…and in trembling voice, spoke an order he never thought he would have to give.

"Nav-Com. Emergency directive; return home. Engage all safeties."

In response, the submarine's hatch, previously open, slammed shut with a powerful hiss of hydraulics. As the dark figure in front of them turned about in surprise, the submarine sank beneath the waves like a stone, its motors whirring in a pre-programmed routine.

The figure whirled back around, and Dr. Jones managed a glare of barely managed fury at him. "Sub-C is heading back for home…They'll all know you're here now."

"You all thought I was dead once, too." The figure spoke, seeming bemused at the archaeologist's actions. The red eyes hardened. "But enough of this. We have unfinished business; you, me, and the Princess."

Giskard narrowed his eyes, staring at him. "What would you want with the Princess, ZODA?"

The alien invader, his identity at last spoken, grew quiet for a moment, then cackled a bit as he started to walk towards them. "Something I have waited many years to obtain." He began drily. "I must admit, I am surprised. I didn't think you and this aged scholar would have the strength to escape the awakening hordes of these old ruins. And to send your only means of escape away, just to prevent me from doing anything to it? No small sacrifice."

"We'll never help you." Giskard stammered. "You don't belong here…not here! These ruins are sacred, and you profane them with your very presence!"

"Do I?" Zoda smirked, his metal gauntlet's fingers clacking together. "Tell me, what is this place then, my dear powerless Argonian?"

Giskard took a step forward, curling his fist around the yo-yo hidden within. "It is a base set up by the Starseekers long ago…It is a place of peace, of learning, of Argonian GLORY!"

Taking his chance, Giskard swung his arm forward, hurling the yo-yo's spinning edge towards the alien invader's face. The demon widened his red eyes for a moment, then seemed to disappear in a blink.

A moment later, he appeared behind Giskard and slammed both hands into the base of the Argonian's skull, knocking the boy unconscious in one devastating blow.

Dr. Jones fell to his knees, defeated and speechless as the yo-yo unwound out all of its string and rolled to a stop on the rough cavern floor. Zoda walked over to the toy and plucked it up between thumb and forefinger, laughing at it.

"Amazing…he fights me with a toy?" Zoda tossed the yo-yo back to Dr. Jones, who caught it with a hopeless stare. "Aah, the fighting spirit runs strong in the Argonian race. But not strong enough."

The trudging and shuffling feet came towards them, accompanied by the moans. A drove of mummies appeared at the cavern exit, stopping and waiting for some sort of a cue.

Dr. Jones went over to Giskard, picking the unconscious and bleeding boy up in his arms, staring at the undead horde. "Why are they just standing there?" He whispered, blinking through his glasses.

In response, Zoda walked up beside him, resting a cold and metallic hand on his shoulder, squeezing firmly enough to make the archaeologist wince.

"They wait because I have not told them what to do yet." Zoda said calmly, pushing the archaeologist forward to them.

The mummies parted their ranks, allowing them passage through.

"But…how? How can you order them around?" Dr. Jones stammered, disbelievingly.

Zoda laughed for a moment, eyes cruel. "Please, Professor Jones. Haven't you figured it out by now?"

The archaeologist tilted his head about enough to shake his head.

Zoda shook his head. "Perhaps I give you too much credit. You are, after all…only human."

Still, the Doctor stared at the alien blankly.

Zoda exhaled, now frustrated. "A good servant will always recognize its master…even if they haven't seen him for four thousand years."

Dr. Jones felt a strange stinging sensation at the back of his neck, then sudden sleepiness overcame him, and he collapsed to the floor.

"Welcome to my home, Professor." Zoda said darkly, as the archaeologist collapsed into a drug induced sleep.

The last thing he felt before he passed completely into unconsciousness was the sensation of rotting, emaciated hands picking him up, and the ground rubbing against his legs as he was dragged back into the depths of the ruins.

Not again…Mike…Princess Mica…You have to stop him…