Chapter 9

By:Zosocrowe

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Ocean: Till the End of Time

I have merely borrowed a couple characters to create

a silly fan story. I have no money either

2/27/05

It was midafternoon on the their third day through the mountains. Climbing the peaks had gone much smoother than their initial set out from Peterny, but they still managed to fall a day behind schedule due to an unforeseen rockslide covering the trail. The lum were surefooted and took them over the rocks with ease, but it had been slow going. Albel wasn't certain if the slide was secure and erred on the side of caution, which was just fine with Nel. She really didn't want any more mishaps.

The nights had also passed without incident. Albel seemed to sleep in short intervals, perhaps an hour or so at a time. There'd been no dreams that Nel was aware of, but she knew his sleeping patterns were hardly healthy. No wonder he looked so tired all the time. How he managed to keep going was beyond her.

Nel's lum had also taken a demure attitude, now that Albel held the reins. Not one buck, kick, or bite. Not even a nicker. He followed behind his equine companion like a faithful dog, plodding along as if he hadn't a care in the world.

They were halfway down the mountain when Albel pulled his steed up short. The trees had thinned, giving him a clear view of the valley below. A small settlement sat in the center, surrounded by a patchwork of fields and small, dusty roads. The main road was obvious, a dark red line of hard clay leading to a sagging, fort-like fence.

He dismounted and tied his lum to a nearby tree. Moving to a ledge he knelt down, dark eyes studying the scene below.

"What's wrong?" Nel asked, hopping off her own beast and coming to kneel with him.

Albel ignored her. He counted at least a dozen or so cottages, some of which had smoke curling from their chimneys. The town was actually quite similar to the Aquarian settlement of Arias. There were no signs of technological advancement or modernization, but they were still on the out skirts of the continent. More than likely, places such as Plum were ignored and oppressed by the inland government. Dictators kept their powerbases close to them, anything that wasn't useful was either destroyed or thrown away.

Still, Albel was cautious. What initially caught his eye was the small congregation of people near the northwest side of the town. They seemed to be crowding around something…a wagon, it looked like, but it was hard to tell from this distance. Their movement bothered him. The townspeople seemed agitated or restless about something. He didn't think they'd been spotted yet, nor did he think their appearance would cause such a gathering among the natives.

"What's going on?" Nel whispered, noticing the same thing her companion did.

"How should I know?" Albel growled. "I don't think it has anything to do with us though."

Nel watched the people for a few more moments then stood. "Shall we go see? It'll be late afternoon by the time we get there."

Albel looked up an nodded his agreement. "Yes. If they're planning something, they'll do it before it gets dark." His hand went unconsciously to his katana, a gesture Nel hadn't noticed before.

"Just don't do anything rash. Wait and see what they're up to, okay?"

Albel narrowed his eyes. "Shut up," he growled.

Nel glared back at him. "Will you stop telling me to shut up? I'm sick of it."

Albel turned his back on her and walked over to his waiting mount. "Then be quiet and I won't have to say it so often."

Nel ground her teeth together and pointed a finger at him. "You know…"

He looked over his shoulder at her, his expression blank. "What is it now?"

Nel stared at him a moment, letting her words die. She heaved a sigh and dropped her arm to her side. It was pointless. "Never mind," she muttered.

The sun was low in the sky when they came off the mountain. Long shadows fell across the valley and a light breeze made the fields of wheat dance like a sea of green. Plum was still several miles ahead, but the villagers had seen them coming and were waiting at the gate in the distance.

Nel leaned forward, trying to get Albel's attention. "Nox," she half shouted after he ignored her first few attempts.

"What?" he asked, not bothering to turn around.

"When we greet these people, we'll have to tell them who we are and why we've come here," Nel said.

"Hn," Albel grumbled. "We're travelers. What more do they need to know?"

He heard Nel sigh behind him and cocked his head back at her. "Greeton doesn't get many travelers," she said, "not with their government watching them so closely. These people might be ostracized, but they'll be curious."

Albel snorted. "What do you propose we tell them then?" His annoyance hung on his words and a stiffness tensed his shoulders.

"We'll tell them we're husband and wife, born from two warring nations. Our countries have sentenced us a traitors so we're fleeing for our lives."

Albel turned around, staring at her with an incredulous expression. "Excuse me?"

Nel frowned at him. "You heard me."

"That's absurd!"

Nel rolled her eyes. "I don't like it anymore than you do, Nox, but now's not the time to worry about petty differences. Just play the part and behave." Even as the words left her mouth, she wasn't sure if Albel actually had it in him to role play as a "normal" husband…or person…for that matter. "Well, if it would make you feel better, we could be brother and sister," she offered quickly.

"As if they'd believe that, you moron," he scoffed, turning back around to face the town, his lips set in a grim line.

Nel grit her teeth at his insult. Once again, he was right. They looked far too different to be siblings. He was much taller and leaner. She wasn't short, but of a more stalky build. Their coloring was also as distinct as black and white, right down to their skin tone. "Never mind," she decided. "Just go with the original plan…Don't blow it."

"Whatever," came the unhappy reply.

Several men, all dressed in black slacks and suspenders with white cotton shirts, waited at the southern gate. Albel dismounted, flicked his cloak so his gauntlet was hidden, and led the two lum with Nel the rest of the way. He noticed several of the villagers holding various tools as if they were weapons. He wanted to smirk at their ignorance, but he managed to subdue his egotism. The largest man, a portly fellow with a bulging belly and equally round head, stood with his arms crossed and an unfriendly look upon his face.

Albel made a slight nod of his head, bangs sweeping into the eyes that never once left the men who stood before him. "Greetings," he said in a soft, formal voice that startled Nel. "We are travelers from the country of Airyglyph."

"Airyglyph?" said a tall, skinny man with a pitchfork. "The warring country?"

Albel kept his eyes shrouded, but replied, "Airyglyph wars no more. The country is at peace and has been so for seasons."

The fat man snorted. "If so, why do you travel?" His beady black eyes moved from Albel to Nel.

Albel stood, rising to his full height, and smiled. His gaze flickered to each of the men. Six would pose no threat to him. He was unconcerned. He made a gesture to Nel, a movement full of grace and etiquette. "Unfortunately, with peace in our country, new laws have risen. I merely wish to rid myself of a slave and have heard that Greeton offers a fair price."

Nel nearly fell off her saddle. A slave? She couldn't believe her ears. What did he think he was doing? Of all the low, despicable…

One of the men stepped forward and looked up at Nel. His gaze traveled the length of her body, lingering a moment on her breasts. She glared down at him, her mouth pressed together tight. "She's a pretty one, but that look in her eye doesn't suit her."

Another man nodded from nearby, giving Nel a disapproving look. "Me thinks she'd like to rip yer heart out sir…or sumthin worse…"

Albel smirked, slow and wicked. "And that's the trouble with this one," he sighed. "She's a devious and deceitful wench. No matter how badly I punish her, she never seems to learn. I'm not certain if she's stubborn or just stupid."

All the men laughed while Nel fumed on her saddle. For the sake of a mission, she could bear a lot of disgrace and discomfort, but this pushed the boundaries of her patience over the limit. It was one thing to be rude and inconsiderate, but stripping her of her dignity and reducing her worth to less than an animal was intolerable. A slave? What was he thinking? What if one of them offered to buy her?

She was so mad she was trembling. When this was over, the two of them were going to have words. Sir Albel Nox could count on it.

Albel didn't need to turn and look at Nel to know she was boring holes into the back of his head. He could feel her eyes upon him, probably wishing him to drop dead where he stood. He was surprised he hadn't burst into flames yet, or at least been electrocuted. She was pissed. With a capital P. It made him grin even harder.

Zelpher was a difficult creature to rattle, with her damned Aquarian pride and shinobi mentality. It was quite refreshing to see that she was human after all, capable of being shaken and enraged just like everyone else. A little humility was good for her and that high-handed morality she waved like a banner in his face every chance she got.

Somehow, his day was looking a bit brighter.

The portly man stepped forward, his smile suddenly gone. He clasped Albel on the shoulder, not noticing how the taller man flinched at his touch. "I suspect you'll be wanting to stay the night?" he asked, his expression strangely grim. When Albel nodded, the other men shifted uncomfortably around him. The mayor slowly shook his head. "I'm sorry to say our hospitality is lacking as of late…"

"Oh?" Albel replied, trying to look confused while shrugging off the man's hand. "Is there a problem?"

The villagers were quiet, their faces unsmiling. For a lingering moment, no one spoke. Agitated, Albel shifted to rest on a hip, his hand settling on the hilt of his katana. "Well, is there another town nearby that is more considerate than this one?" he snapped, his niceties finally running dry. "I don't have all day."

Nel almost slapped herself on the forehead. There was no way they'd make another town by nightfall, and even if they did, they'd be going in the wrong direction. Plum was their only option and Albel's personality dysfunction was about to ruin the opportunity for them. Not only that, he'd clipped her heels by labeling her a slave, so she couldn't speak freely among them without risking their cover. The arrogant, childish idiot…

A blonde boy with pale brown eyes stepped forward and glanced at Albel nervously. "Mayor Orie, we can't send them away. It's near dark as it is and…" his words trailed off, a hint of fear left behind.

The mayor sighed, wringing his felt hat between meaty hands. "I suppose not. There are no other villages to stay at now, so I guess we're it. We don't have much to offer though."

Albel shrugged. "A place to sleep and some food if you have it is all we ask." He didn't bother mentioning provisions for their continuing trip. It was obvious Plum was too poor to offer them any extras. They'd have to make due with what they had until they could find another village to re-supply at. There were several on the map, if he remembered correctly. Hopefully they'd be more prosperous than Plum, though Nel would be miffed at being forced to take a slight detour.

The blonde boy moved closer and nodded. "My home has an extra room to spare. It's just me and my mother now…" A pained look crossed over his young face, but he quickly hid it with a forced smile. "Ma, will be happy to have someone else to cook for."

The mayor frowned, his piggish eyes darting nervously. "Are you sure, Leylan?" The boy gave a brief nod and the mayor clapped him on the back a bit harder than necessary. "You're a good man, just like your father." Leylan smiled sheepishly, motioning for Albel and Nel to follow him.

Albel took the reins of the lum and led them past the other villagers, who watched him with suspicious trepidation. The villagers seemed spooked. He frowned to himself, thinking that perhaps it would be wiser to camp out than be surrounded by a group of frightened, unpredictable hicks. Killing people would be a good way to get noticed and blow their objective.

Leylan lead them down the only road in Plum. It was wide and dusty, with about two dozen cottages lining each side. There was a large building, which looked to be a meeting hall, and a small, makeshift barn near the north gate. The boy offered to help him untack the lum, but Albel refused and left him with Nel outside the door.

Nel studied the young man from the corner of her eye. He couldn't be more than nineteen or twenty. Maybe even younger. It was hard to tell with these farming types. Despite his obvious youth, there was a sense of maturity about him. He was well built, his skin dark and hands calloused from hours of hard work in the sun.

In a way, he wasn't much different from herself and Albel, she supposed. How old had they both been when they were thrust into the world of adulthood? But unlike them, Leylan's youth wasn't marred by blood or war.

He noticed her looking at him and blushed, his gaze quickly dropping to study his shoes. Nel smiled. His innocence was refreshing.

"Are you certain your mother won't mind us imposing?" she asked.

Leylan looked up, obviously surprised. "Uh…No Miss, not at all. She'd be angry if I'd let them turn you away so close to nightfall." He shoved his hands deep into his pockets. "The people here aren't really all that bad. They're just nervous 'cause the…incidents that've been happen'n lately. Not to mention we don't have much to share, with the drought an' all…"

"Incidents?" Nel asked with restrained curiosity.

Leylan moved his head up and down slowly and stepped closer. "Yes ma'am," he said in a low voice. "Several villages to the west of here were wiped out…"

Nel's eyes went wide. "Wiped out? You mean killed?"

Leylan nodded, his expression grim. "Down to the last person. Us and Tup'ni are the only two left in this side of the mountains."

"How?" Nel asked, astounded that they'd even considered letting outsiders into their small little town.

Fear flashed across the young man's face, his eyes showing a more white than normal. "Monsters," he whispered. "Horrible creatures that can snap a man in half and eat the flesh from their bones." He shuddered visibly, his skin growing pale.

"Monsters?" Nel frowned. She'd never heard of ordinary monsters organizing full scale attacks on human villages before. Only something with a decent level of intelligence was capable of such a thing. Berserkers or Bogles were smart enough, but rarely did they pay much attention to human cities, nor did they have the strength to annihilate an entire town, let alone several. "Have you seen them?"

Leylan shook his head. "No. No one has seen them and lived to talk about it. There's a lot of travel between the villages here and from what we can tell, the creatures only attack at night…so far…"

Nel gave him a long look. It was odd that there were no survivors. How could they be so certain that it was monsters if they hadn't seen them?

"Why don't you fight back?"

Nel and Leylan turned as Albel stepped through the doorway of the barn. He was scowling, his reddish eyes fixed on the boy. "Monsters are just monsters. They all bleed, just as you do," he growled. "Killing them should be no trouble for an entire village."

Leylan looked at him as if he'd sprouted a second head. "F..fight back? I'm sorry sir, but you haven't seen what they can do…"

"Bah!" Albel snapped. "Excuses. The strong weed out the weak in this world. If you don't fight to protect your home or your families, then you don't deserve to live." He glared for a moment longer, then looked away as a stray thought passed over his face.

"The strong should protect the weak, Albel," Nel retorted. "It's a small price to pay for being gifted with strength. Have you ever thought about that? Those who use their power selfishly are always punished in the end…"

Albel's eyes narrowed, his thin body tensing beneath his cloak. "Yet in the end, even with the protection of the strong, the weak still pay the price for being feeble, don't they?" he hissed at her.

"I didn't mean…"

"I know what you meant, woman," he snapped, his expression darkening. "Spare me the spoon feeding of your high handed morals."

Nel inhaled sharply through her nose. "You wouldn't know a moral if it hit you in the face, Nox. You're so blinded by your one-sided ideals and petty judgments, who are you to talk?"

Albel's brows arched. "At least I speak from experience and not from what I've read in some book."

Nel put her hands on her hips. "Oh, and what experience is that? The world is a big place, Albel…and it doesn't revolve around you or your past."

Albel's face went blank, his eyes cold and without any shred of feeling. "I know, from experience, you coddled maggot, that to survive in this world, you need the strength to defend yourself. And those who sit around, expecting to be rescued are just as selfish, if not more so, than someone like me."

Nel glared at him, shaking her head. "Not everyone is like you, Albel. Not everyone is capable of your fortitude and sense of preservation. People are born different. Some are strong, some are aren't, but everyone's life is important. Isn't that why we faced Luther?"

Albel narrowed his eyes and snorted. "Bah! Luther was nothing more than an interesting challenge. No more, no less."

Nel's mouth opened and her eyes widened. She suddenly wanted to hit him. How dare he demean their efforts, their sorrows, their pain. Many people gave up their lives to protect their universe, their very way of life, from Luther's maniacal plot. Everyone had sacrificed something, including Albel. For him to stand there and smugly belittle everything they fought for was despicable.

"You lair," Nel whispered. Perhaps at first Albel's motives were less than noble, but as events unfolded, his inspirations changed. Challenges and strength would mean nothing if they were erased, and suddenly preserving their world and their right to exist took precedent over all else. Even someone like Albel could understand the importance of choosing free will over destiny. "You are a liar and a hypocrite," Nel snarled, her fists balling at her thighs.

"I've killed men for less," Albel warned, his tone dropping an octave. "I suggest you drop this subject if you wish to see tomorrow."

"Coward," Nel spat at him. "You know I'm right, so you want to run. Is that it?"

Nel saw him come at her and side stepped his rush. She couldn't match his speed, and felt cold talons close around her wrist. There was a sharp pain as he spun her around, bouncing her off his chest. He balled her jacket collar up in his good hand, lifting her to her tip toes so he could peer into her face.

His nostrils flared and pupils flexed as he focused upon her closeness. "Never call me a coward again," he growled. "Ever."

Nel bared her teeth at him, her own anger rushing over her in a wave of fury. She leaned into him, gaining some balance, and drove her knee up hard. Albel made as startled noise and moved a leg to protect his groin. There was a meaty sound as she made contact, missing her objective by several inches, and catching him in his lower abdomen. He gasped, releasing her so fast she stumbled backwards and nearly fell.

As he doubled over and coughed, Nel wiped her hands on her clothes and glared. "Never touch me like that again," she hissed, her hands trembling in rage. "Ever."

Albel managed to right himself, his hand rubbing his sore stomach. She'd almost got him and he was a bit shaken. A hit like that would have seriously injured him. He'd been careless. "I should leave you here," he said in a low voice.

"I don't care what the hell you do," Nel replied.

"Fine," he snapped, giving her a long, hard look before turning on his heel and disappearing down the street.

Nel watched him go without remorse. She wanted him to leave, be gone from her sight. She stood by everything she'd said to him, she had no regrets. If he couldn't use words to fight his arguments, then he had no business starting an argument with her. She wasn't his enemy and laying hands on her was unforgivable.

"Uh…Miss?"

Nel froze, tearing her gaze from Albel's shrinking back. She'd totally forgotten about Leylan. She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. How was she going to explain this mess?

She put on her most sheepish, embarrassed smile, looking over her shoulder at the bewildered boy. "Ummm…I'm sorry you had to see that. How embarrassing. You see, I'm not really his slave…we're…uh…engaged but neither of our countries approves of the union, so we fled to Greeton. We needed a cover until we got far enough away from the border." She steepled her fingers, turning around to face the skeptical look on Leylan's face. "I'm sorry we had to lie to you. We meant no harm…"

Leylan gazed at her a moment and shook his head. "I'm sorry you had to flee your home. It must be hard on both of you." He gave her a sad smile of sympathy.

Nel nodded, stunned he'd actually bought her story after witnessing the fiasco. "Yes. Travel has made us both…sensitive and irritable. I'm really sorry you had to see that mess…I'm so ashamed…" She covered her eyes with a hand, and said a prayer of thanks to Apris.

Leyland waved a hand at her. "No, no. It's okay miss," he said, ushering her down the street in the opposite direction Albel had gone. He looked over his shoulder for the tall man. "But he seemed pretty upset…You think he'll come back?"

Nel shrugged, trying hard not to frown. Good question. She didn't think he'd make the trip back to Peterny without his lum or provisions. Not to mention they were both worn out and hungry. Even Albel Nox had limits. Then again, she wasn't about to guess what went on inside his head. Maybe he would disappear into the night and leave her to fetch Fayt on her own. Oh well. She'd cross that bridge when she came to it.

She gave Leylan a small smile. "Oh, I'm sure he'll be back after he cools down some," she lied.

Albel stalked to the furthest end of town, too irate to notice the suspicious stares of the villagers as he passed by. Nel Zelpher could go to hell. If she didn't think he'd return to Airyglyph on his own, she was sadly mistaken. He fully intended on leaving her pretentious ass in Plum. He could care less if the idiot earthling was returned safely or not, nor did he give a dragon's dung about Woltar's preposterous proposition. To hell with Woltar too. If the old bag of wind was so distraught over Fayt's kidnapping, then he could just get off his ass and go get him himself.

Albel had had enough.

Over the course of his life he'd become accustomed to people talking down to him, isolating him, passing judgment on him. Humans were ignoble creatures by nature. He could accept that and even respond in kind. He could even deal with the scrutinizing, disapproving stares. Ignoring whispers and gossip was something he did well. However, there were some things he had no tolerance for and he drew the line at being called a liar and a coward.

It was no secret in his home country that he was blatant with his honesty. Many people considered him rude, if not downright obtuse. Lying was something he had no use for. Years of watching his fellow nobles at court smile at one another while spreading vicious untruths had given him little taste for the tactic. Truth was often much more brutal than any lie. He learned to loath his fellow class, seeing their propaganda as an inability to raise their merit based on strength and wit alone.

Neither was he a coward. Every challenge, every obstacle, no matter how dangerous or difficult, he met with unequivocal force. He never ran from an enemy or problem. Ever. So how utterly absurd that the Aquarian even suggest he be fearful of her trite little speech.

What did she know anyway?

Obviously not a damn thing. The strong obligated to protect the weak? How ridiculous. If someone was unwilling to protect their own life, why should another be expected to put their own on the line for said person? There was nothing dishonorable about dying in battle. What was pathetic was dying without lifting a finger. Those willing to roll over deserved to die like dogs.

Besides, the weak always ended up dying in one way or another, so why even bother? He believed that more now than he ever did before. If Zelpher wanted to cater to the selfish whims of weaklings who'd rather die than defend themselves, so be it. That was her choice and it gave her no right to judge him. He didn't want that kind of responsibility. Not anymore.

He was sick of her pompous, imperious lectures. She spoke to him as if he was an idiot or ill mannered child, unable to reason or think for himself. And the way she looked at him! Like he was some mangy dog. Though he was used to receiving censorious stares, for some reason he wanted to rend the Aquarian's head from her shoulders when she gave him "the look".

She knew nothing about him. Nothing about his life or his past. Maybe if she had been born into a country where being stronger, faster, and smarter meant better odds of survival, her tune would be a bit different. People in Aquaria didn't starve on a daily basis, not that he was aware of anyway. They had access to medicinal herbs and runology to thwart disease and injury. Aquarians didn't die from broken limbs or simple wounds. Their children weren't stillborn due to lack of nutrition and those that did survive weren't malnourished and feeble. In Aquaria, citizens had options other than the military. They could be shopkeepers, inventors, adventurers, teachers. Their children, regardless of status could be educated. Opportunities were boundless, choices free.

In Airyglyph, if a man wanted to live and provide for his family, the military was the only option available that would almost totally ensure survival. Of course, that depended on how quickly one could climb the ranks. Being born noble helped somewhat, but even then, a particularly bad winter or a shortage of various supplies, could bring even the most wealthy to their knees. Disease and starvation played no favorites.

For her to have the audacity to rebuke his beliefs without one iota of his experience was unforgivable. Let her suffer some hardships first, then she could speak to him about the way of the world.

Albel reached the large wooden gate and stopped, his frown pulling even tighter about his eyes. He uttered a loud curse and spat on the ground in disgust. He was so angry he'd gone the wrong direction and ended up at the north end of town instead of the south. Not only that, he'd just realized he'd left his lum, all his supplies, and his copy of the map back at the barn.

He sighed harshly and leaned against the corner of a cottage, crossing his arms and banging the back of his head against the wood once. It was all that damn woman's fault.

He looked up into the darkening sky, noting the first stars of the evening with bored interest. Really, it would be pointless to set out now. The territory was unfamiliar and he was actually tired. Finding a place to sleep would be difficult, as he had no intention of seeing Nel Zelpher's face ever again.

His eyes slid from the sky as he scanned his surroundings from half open lids. His gaze settled on a poorly made wagon covered with a dingy white tarp. It sat in the furthest corner of the fence, partially hidden from view by a several stacks of large wooden boxes and barrels.

Was that the same wagon the villagers were milling about earlier? A line creased Albel's brow and he pushed away from the wall, making his way across the street.

The boxes and barrels were free of debris. There was no dust or grime to indicate they'd been sitting outside long, so he had no doubt they'd only been recently moved. He circled the contraption several times before coming to a stop near the rear.

It looked like a regular wagon. The canvas tarp was drawn tight, bound by several nylon cords.

Simple enough.

Albel shifted his cloak, freeing his gauntlet, and slipped his talons beneath the ropes. With a quick flick of his wrist, the cords popped, freeing a corner. Carefully, he pulled on the heavy cloth, trying not to shred it with his claws.

His good arm went to his nose and he stumbled back from the malodorous stench that billowed free of its prison. The cargo in the wagon reeked of rotting flesh and worse. At first he thought he'd stumbled upon the remains of some recently butchered animal the townsfolk had yet to dispose of, but a niggling feeling, like a persistent itch, gnawed at his curiosity. The odor was far too putrid for the carcass of just one creature.

Curiously, he moved back to the end of the wagon, his eyes watering despite the press of his arm against his nose. Gods, it was awful. He used his claws to snap several more ropes and then drew the canvass away from the cargo.

His mouth went agape and he made a sharp noise deep inside his throat.

People…no…pieces of people were piled into a formless, decaying mass of flesh and fluid. Eyeballs with no faces stared out at him from the lump of meat. Hands, fingers and toes seemed to reach out, splayed and clawed, their joints forever stiff. An eyeless head, hair matted with gore, mouth open in an eternal scream, shifted on its disturbed perch and rolled to the foot of the wagon where Albel stood. He jerked back, dropping the canvas to the ground, unable to tear his eyes from the pulp of gruesome conglomerate.

What the hell was going on? He shook his head slightly, swallowing the rise of bile in the back of his throat. Was this the work of the monsters that boy had spoke of?

Albel had never heard of monsters slaughtering people with such uncanny violence. Usually people were eaten or torn to bits, but these unfortunate Greetonites were butchered with precision, as if they were livestock. From what he could tell, all the parts in the wagon were considered inedible by human standards. Heads, hair, eyes, stomachs, intestines, bladders…

A horrible idea blossomed in his head, one that made him shudder in sheer revulsion. "My god…" he whispered, stepping away from the terrible wagon and its grisly cargo.

Suddenly, somewhere near the center of town, a woman screamed and Albel unsheathed his sword.


Sheesh…what a friggen long chapter. I really went over my intended word count on this one. Sorry 'bout that. So, they've made it to Plum…alive and in one piece (no pun intended). This is a drastic change from what I originally had planned.Oh...Don't worry about Fayt. He's a resourceful, smart young man, so he'll be just fine…I hope…(heh). Thanks for all the reviews! Until next time, take care!