This chapter taught me something: Languages are easy to invent. Just bash the keyboard with a fist and keep whatever sounds good.

Disclaimer: I don't own Baten Kaitos. Was that good enough for the lawyers out there?

Chapter XIII: Touch Of Fate

Kalas would never know for how long he flew through the Ice Cliffs, following some strange, deep instinct that was leading him. To where, he did not know. He silently hoped it was to his friends, family and the rulers. He wished desperately that he could see them, and prove to himself that they had not suffered the same fate at he had. What happened to him after… he neither knew nor cared.

When he did finally emerge from the Ice Cliffs, he found himself at the coast, staring out at the vast Ocean. He still felt that strange tugging, leading him across the sea. Then for the first time, he resisted the instinct. Why over the Ocean? He looked to his left and saw Cursa and the palace, clearly, only ten miles or so away, an easy distance to cover for him to cover now. That was where he should go. If his friends were anywhere, it would be in Cursa.

But he could not go there.

The instinct that drove him before held him back. He fought it, trying to banish it from his mind. I need to get to Cursa! He thought as he tried to resist the strange, alien instinct. He nearly won.

Nearly.

As if someone else was physically moving him, he felt himself drawn away from Cursa. Now he was afraid, what was happening to him? Eventually, after what felt like an eternity of struggle, he surrendered. He followed the strange, alien drive to go somewhere else. As he flew away from Wazn, he suddenly felt very helpless, unable to even choose his own path, forced to go to an unknown destination…

Morjidza was in a foul mood. He had been in a perpetually foul mood for a couple days. He stood on a balcony, looking out at the snowy city of Cursa. It was almost noon but there were few people on the streets, or only a few he could see from the balcony. Those that were out were clearly in a hurry to get to their destinations. They're probably afraid that I'll send my servants on a homicidal rampage. He thought, a hint of a smile twisting his face. That might be fun to watch. But inefficient and pointless nonetheless. Too bad, what I need now is good entertainment. Clearly they don't get a lot of that on this miserable heap of ice.

His thoughts were interrupted at the sound of strong wing beats. His gaze refocused onto a Diabolos, flying just outside of the palace, hovering not seven feet from the balcony. It looked at him with its one, red, slitted eye. Morjidza had used these creatures to capture Wazn and to capture his enemies. Generally, when summoned the creatures were so glad to be out of the Void at all that they would obey any command he made, even if it was not within the bounds of the original summons. The one that had just flown up to him was the 'leader' of the pack, if such a disorganized group could have a leader. He could tell by a rune engraved onto the axe-blade on the creature's weapon.

"Ah'xneh" it said with a voice like stones being smashed together, "Tahnx zei hurghi rvifc?"

Morjidza frowned. He did not understand a word of the language that the creature spoke. He did not know its origin, or particularly cared. While he did not know the language, he did not need to. The creatures he summoned responded to the human's common tongue as they would their own, though they could not speak it. "Whatever it is you want," he said to the Diabolos coldly, "You and the others of your race must wait. I have no need of you or your brethren at the moment. You will get your kills but you must cease to pester me first!"

The Diabolos had only the eye and a misshapen mouth filled with needle teeth for features on its face, but Morjidza could tell that it was both disappointed, and impatient. "Hurgh edini'oi uy jkitil!" it said, clearly protesting.

"I shall not repeat myself!" snapped Morjidza, "Leave me be!"

The Diabolos hissed, but seemed to accept that Morjidza would not budge on his issue. "Tah hurgh abdeh, ah'xneh." It said, with a note of what was unmistakably annoyance. With a powerful beat of its wings it flew off, to what destination Morjidza neither knew nor cared. He would have loved to banish them back to the Void, but he needed them and could not waste sacrifices to re-summon them. They were getting restless. He did not fear that they would rise up against him, the summoning's bindings prevented that, but they were becoming a great annoyance. Though they were valuable, and would only dispose of them when they became a liability.

The thought returned him to his earlier ponderings, the bizarre threat that the Immortal had. He snorted, he was skeptical about it, even if the Immortal could not lie. However, he told himself that this was nothing. And yet his nightmares were no better, and now he had this possible complication to worry about. Morjidza considered it a miracle in its own right if Kalas, that miserable, one-winged, pathetic, Magnus-born freak could even have daughter at all!

But it still bothered him. He scowled out at the city. Was he to be haunted by ghosts, and vague threats the rest of his life? Bah! Kalas was as dead as a doornail, and he doubted that any brat of his could pose any threat. He, Morjidza had taken the island of Wazn, with a handful of men and a troop of Diabolos. Surely some kid that was not even born yet could, or should frighten him, let alone the memory of a dead man.

If that was so, then why was his sleep plagued by nightmares, and his waking thoughts full of fear?

"Allyr?"

"Ugh…"

"Allyr?"

"Hmmm…"

"Allyr, wake up."

"Uh… go away…"

"I can't."

"Huh?"

"Allyr, wake up!"

Allyr opened her eyes, only to be blinded by the bright sunshine coming in through the window to the small guestroom. She closed her eyes and groaned. "Allyr, wake up." Repeated Kalas.

"All right, all right!" said Allyr, sitting up. "Killjoy." She muttered under her breath, hoping Kalas would not hear her.

"I heard that."

"Okay, fine! You're not a killjoy! Just give me a minute will ya?" She sat up and tried to rub the sleep from her eyes. She yawned widely, "Did something happen?" she asked, "Why'd you wake me up?"

"First," started Kalas, "It's almost noon. You've been asleep longer than any sane person should be."

"What makes you so sure it's almost noon?" asked Allyr.

"I watched the sun," he said, "It wasn't hard. How can you possibly sleep for so long?"

"Do we have to argue about my sleeping habits? And remember, I was almost killed yesterday. In fact, I've had three different attempts on my life since you fell back into my life. And-"

"Point taken. And Melodia came in here once wondering if you were awake. I promised to wake you up if you didn't do that yourself."

"Melodia came in here?" asked Allyr.

"Poked her head around the door," said Kalas, "I think she had something she wanted to say to you."

Allyr looked at Kalas, surprised, "Really? Did she tell you what?" asked Allyr.

"No," he admitted, "That was just an assumption."

Allyr scowled, "So you woke me up based on a guess?" she said annoyed.

"Melodia asked me to wake you up," replied Kalas stiffly, "Even if she hadn't I would have woken you up anyway."

Allyr stood up and stretched her arms over her head. Well, there was no going back to sleep now. She was wearing a loose white shirt and similar pair of pants that she had been given. "Stare at the wall for a minute." She said to Kalas, walking over to a table where her normal clothes lay folded neatly. Five minutes later, she walked out of the guestroom, fully clothed, and looked around at the general area.

The guestrooms were in a building adjacent to the manor. It was completely deserted except for Kalas and Allyr. She wandered out into a bright, warm, Miran afternoon. The sun felt great after the hazy winter sun in Allyr's world. She was standing in the streets of Balancoire, the manor to her left.

"There you are," said a voice out of the blue, "And right where I want you."

Allyr turned to the source of the voice, and nearly died from shock right on the spot. Malice was walking up the streets of Balancoire, right up to where Allyr now stood. Malice was attracting many stares, but her red eyes were focused solely on Allyr. Allyr instinctively took a step back, but seemed to have forgotten how to run. Kalas seemed to have remembered what to do at a moment like this, as Allyr felt the now familiar flow of power in her veins. Not for the first time, she lost herself in the great feeling of power. Shimmering blue-white light surrounded her body, and her right hand glowed bright blue. "I am the Air, dispeller of Time!" she shouted, "DISTORTING WIND!"

Ribbons of visible, twisting wind appeared. They coiled and bent around Malice, and the force of the small gale was enough to make Allyr and unfortunate passer-bys stagger under the wind's force. It lasted for a few seconds, but soon it was all over. Many of the cobbles in the street had been torn out and flung many feet from where they had previously been. Malice stood in the middle of the ruin, arms folded across her chest, giving Allyr an unimpressed look.

Later, Allyr would think, in retrospect, that as it had not worked the first time, both she and Kalas should not have been stupid enough to think it would work this time.

"Don't just stand there like a lazy Pow!" shouted Kalas, "RUN!"

Allyr did not run. She bolted.

The city itself is surrounded by a short stone wall, marking its boundaries. It was never a military base, so the walls were never meant to keep anyone out. Which was why Allyr could vault the stone wall with relative ease. Or perhaps the movement was more of a graceful trip than a jump. Outside the boundaries was a meadow, which as one got further and further from the city slowly became forest, which would many, many miles down the road become the Shrine of Spirits. Allyr reached the forest, panting for breath but her adrenaline soaked brain barely registered it. She was not even sure if Malice was following her. About a yard into the forest Allyr did something terribly cliché: she tripped.

She did not see the tree root, but her foot connected with it suddenly and solidly, and Allyr found herself lying on the ground rather than sprinting away from the city and the assumed danger. She twisted around on the ground to see Malice, grinning widely, walking right up to where Allyr laid. Malice looked like she was in no rush to kill her target.

"This makes it easy," said Malice, "And this time, Death's not coming to save your worthless skin."

Allyr knew Malice was right. Death probably would not save them. If anything she would probably be happy if Allyr died. Then Death could take Kalas and not worry about breaking a sacred bond. Panic welled up within Allyr; this time she really would die. Malice was standing over the prone Allyr, a grin of wicked pleasure on her face.

Then something strange happened. Kalas just seemed to suddenly… fall unconscious. It was not as if he had fainted. But Allyr suddenly had his overwhelming feeling that something was wrong with him. It was as if her Guardian had suddenly been knocked out by something…

"What the hell is this?" said Malice. Allyr looked up at Malice, who had a stunned look on her face. Then Allyr looked down at the ground she was lying on, and gasped in surprise. She was now sitting in the middle of a hexagram drawn in the ground, made of lines of light of ever changing colors.

What's this? Thought Allyr, Is Kalas doing this? Malice launched a punch at Allyr, but hit an invisible barrier of some sort, sending out a shower of bright white sparks without getting near Allyr. Then Malice's eyes widened, as if in realization.

"…You…" said Malice, almost like an accusation, glaring down at Allyr looking shocked, "You, of all people, have the protection of The Six?"

"…What?" said Allyr, wondering what the hell was going on.

Malice took a step back from Allyr, and looked up at the sky. "I know you're watching!" Malice shouted at the sky, "You'd better listen to me! Free me from my bonds and I'll leave your precious little protégé alone! I don't give a damn whether she lives or dies, but I can't break my chains! You hear me? FREE ME!"

Allyr wondered if Immortals could go insane. But after a minute it seemed, that there was someone listening. Malice's body began to shimmer like a heat hazy, faded, and then was gone, as if she had never been there. The lines of light forming the hexagram faded, and all was silent.

Oh my God… Kalas! Allyr thought in a panic. She felt out for him, and felt him 'lying' on the ground a foot from her. "Kalas?" she said, "Are you all right?" He said nothing. "Kalas?" Silence. "Kalas!" No response. Now she was scared. She bit her lip nervously, what should she do?

What could she do?

Kalas groaned; he felt awful. As if he had been buried under a ton of bricks then roughly pulled out from under the pile. What had just happened? He could only half remember it; his head seemed to be filled with a thick gray fog. He shifted slightly, trying to get his bearings back. Something… felt funny. He felt strangely dizzy, but he could not remember why he felt like that. Well, that was not it. It was a feeling he could not quite place or describe. When the world swam back into focus, he came sharply back to reality with a thud. He sat bolt upright, and started looked around… And instantly stiffened. I sat up? He thought. A simple act, but he did not have a body anymore. He was a disembodied Spirit, how could he sit up? Confused, he down looked at what would have been his body in life, and was met with the sight of the closest thing he had to a real body in what felt like years.

He was met with the sight of his own body, as it looked in life, with the single difference of being transparent, as if he were just a ghost. He lifted an arm, and started at it, transfixed, and he looked right through his forearm. Wh… what the…? He finally began to take his surroundings in, and they proved to be as strange as his sudden transformation.

Everything was black, pitch black. As if some great Creator lacked the desire, or perhaps imagination, to actually create anything. The only thing that existed in the strange void, was a hexagram drawn onto the dark ground with multicolored lines, constantly changing color. Kalas sat in the exact center of the hexagram, and something told him it would be unwise to go beyond the lines of light.

"Ah, you have awakened." Said a voice. Female, and it reminded Kalas of a summer breeze rustling the branches of trees.

"Huh?" he said, looking around, trying to see who had spoken, "Who's there?"

"I am glad you are well," said a second voice. Male, crackling like a flame, "I was afraid you would not wake."

"Who's there?" repeated Kalas, standing up.

"Calm yourself," said a third voice, female, flowing and steady.

Kalas spun around, trying to find the source of the voices, and found no one. He was completely alone. "Who's there?" he repeated, a note of fear in his voice. He did not know to who he was talking to, or what he was talking to.

"Do not worry, little Spirit," said a fourth voice, once more female, bright and lighthearted, "We do not mean you any harm."

"Then show yourself!" challenged Kalas, though his voice sounded weak, even to him, "Don't hide from me!"

He heard a deep, hearty laugh behind him. He spun around trying to find the source of the laughter. Nothing was there. "You seem to be doing very well for what we put you through." Said a fifth voice, male, deep and dark.

I'm going mad. Though Kalas, desperately trying to find someone else in that void with him, trying to find someone who could have spoken. I'm hearing voices now. He thought, I'm losing my mind.

"You are not losing your mind, little Spirit," said a sixth voice, male, the voice was rhythmic as clockwork. Kalas stood stock-still, realizing that whoever, or whatever, had spoken might have just read his mind, "We merely do not want you to see us… yet."

"Um… we?" said Kalas, "Who exactly are you?"

"Friends," said the second simply.

"We want to help you," Said the third, "We mean you and your partner no harm."

Allyr! He had completely forgotten about her! "Where's Allyr?" Kalas shouted, not sure where he should direct this, "What did you do to her?"

"Nothing," said the first, "We have done her no harm. She is well, body, mind, and soul. You shall return to her and find that we do not harm those whom we watch over."

"Wait… what?" said Kalas, confused, "You've been… watching us? But… how? And… well… where am I anyway? How-"

"You certainly ask a lot of questions," commented the fourth, "Curiosity is a good thing. As for where we are, you are still in forest. Think of this as a sort of illusion. Everything you see and hear now is a part of that illusion."

"Why can't I talk right to you right now?" asked Kalas, still unsure where he should direct his questions.

"You have many questions," said the fifth, "But we cannot answer them now. You must wait, little Spirit."

"…For what?"

"You will know when the time comes," said the first, "For now, you must rest, and recover. Recover and return to your partner, who now is worrying about your well-being. Please… rest… And when you wake, you shall have no memory of what has happened from when the sun rose this morning, to the moment before you wake."

"But I don't understand!" Kalas blurted, "What happened just now? I… it felt like…"

"That," said the sixth, "Is one of many questions that will be saved for our next encounter."

"When's that going to be?"

"Soon," said the second, "Very soon. You will know when the time has come, even with the memory of this meeting gone from your mind."

"But-"

"You must leave," the fifth interrupted, "Your partner worries about you. Understandably so. You want to return to her, yes?"

"Of course!" said Kalas, sounding almost offended, "Why wouldn't I?"

"Good, good," said the sixth, almost distractedly, "That is good… Very good..."

"Then go to her," said the third gently.

Kalas was about to say more, but he was suddenly overcome by a strange fatigue. He swayed a little, as if drunk, and then crumpled in a heap on the black ground. The assembled beings watched him vanish, his ghost form dissipating suddenly as they released him from the illusion.

"Will they be well?" said the first, voice filled with doubt, to no one in particular.

The fifth sighed heavily, and said simply, "What's done is done."

He he... I love being obscure. It makes me feel powerful.

Yet again, I plead you, my readers, to review.