Eclipse of Dusk

By: Hseru

Warnings: Shounen ai 1x2 3x4 5xM

Disclaimer: I own not Gundam Wing, but I do own the world the G-boys traverse. Fear my god power

I was informed that there was a bit of confusion concerning the collar. Solo didn't take it off. He doesn't have the power to do that, but the manacles were never meant to stay on for the same amount of time as the collar, so I would hazard that they had no lock, but a catch that Duo would not have been able to release himself, due to the pain he was in. So, the manacles were the only pieces Solo actually removed. I neglected to mention that fact, and do now apologize.

Maybe I should get a beta reader if I decide to write another story of this length. Even reading the entire thing over again, I missed a few things that I'm hard put to go back and fix. --'

Oh well. Either way, I know the mistakes I made, and will be able to fix them in future endeavors.

Chapter 31

Despite the sudden and most certainly startling appearance of Shinigami, the now five were riding at a good pace towards the castle. The three normal horses had shied away in stark terror at the initial sight and voicing of the ebon creature, and now their three riders were having difficulty keeping control of the wildly panicking mounts. They kept trying to take their own lead and head away from what could possibly be the largest predator in existence.

The two Illians had been startled just as much, but their fear was now evident only in the wild rolling of their eyes, the white showing periodically. Their two riders had a much easier time of calming and reassuring the intelligent steeds, all the while listening to their own comforting words in an attempt to give themselves the same kind of reassurance.

It would have been pure idiocy to not tremble before that awesome power.

The Fortress was in a state of distress when they reached the gate. The guards were still there, but they looked shaken, and upon recognizing Trowa as one of their own, didn't question him further, and the small party was admitted into the fortress of their enemy without hardly a glance.

It was a blessing, but one that might end up being double-edged, cutting back in the form of what must be happening to Duo to cause Shinigami such grief.

As they entered into the Fortress, the unsettlingly monstrous bulk of the ebon dragon was suddenly so close, that riding forward another hundred paces would have put them within touching distance of the creature. The horses couldn't take the sight of the beast, not to mention the pure predatory smell of it. It's scent was a mix of smoke, sulfur, and something else that was most definitely wild, and meant to never be tamed. While the horses began to shake at the proximity, their human riders were entranced by the dragon.

It indeed, looked large enough to swallow a full sized horse whole. It had landed haphazardly into the courtyard, wings and limbs akimbo. The leathery skin that had only moments before been stretched taunt with the resistance of flight, was now draped about like so much thick silk, hanging loosely from the skeletal framework of those pinions, of which one looked like it had been damaged in the fall; the only part of the dragon's body frail enough for it to do so.

The great head was turned slightly towards them, great long horns like grim spires pointing to the sky. One of it's eyes was clearly seen, and appeared to be open only slightly. The brightness of before was dimmed, and only a faint reminder of what had once blazed in the onyx depths remained, a spark of violet that was yet deeper than the hue of most things that exhibited the same color. Even as they watched, a thin membrane slid over the black orb, followed by the thick outer lid, which firmly closed the creature's eyes, and formed a protection of the same impenetrable scales that covered the rest of its obsidian body. It was not dead, for the lungs of the creature, like great bellows, still made its chest move up and down in that rhythmic motion that came with either sleep or unconsciousness.

Despite their time giving out, it was finally Trowa who pulled them back together with a low "Come on. We have to hurry."

They all seemed to snap back to reality, and as they discreetly as possible made their way to the covered archway of the stables -a common place for those who had been on patrol outside to go first- a few brave souls were gathering others, and as more came, the whole of them began the process of trying to move the dragon's great bulk in any way possible, probably on orders to do such after the appearance of the beast.

Continuing the farce of belonging, the five proceeded to stable their horses, however they did not fully un-tack the steeds. If they needed a hasty escape, then they didn't want to be wasting time with saddling up.

After doing so, Trowa led them away from the courtyard, and into the main complex. He must have explored a great deal while being here, for he knew exactly where to go to further form their plans for getting Duo out, and stopping Sarkan. It was a small, long unused storage chamber that they eventually wound up in, and it had taken them a great deal of navigation to get there. The fortress was built like a maze. If not for Trowa, there was doubt that they would have been able to accomplish anything before it was too late.

The sun was far past it's zenith by this time, and the countdown was now in how many candle marks were left before midnight. Trowa could keep time with his elven senses, which would give them the opportunity they would need to move fast, and at the appropriate hour.

For the time being though, the most difficult part stood before them all.

The wait.

There was really no way that they could go up against Sarkan and all of his spells while he still stood within them and their protection. Their best chance would come when he entered the courtyard to draw the circle of summoning. The portal would open, using the enormous amount of life force that Shinigami possessed, and then the blood of a virgin would be spilled as a sacrifice to complete the bridge between the realms.

Quatre worked off of the knowledge that Trowa gave him to get a rough conjecture as to how Sarkan would proceed with the ritual. After all, Quatre was a Second Rank mage in a power hierarchy that was as difficult to come into as going from peasant to king. He was only a step below the most powerful and knowledgeable of his sect, so despite the link to the collar still tugging at him, he could still put that knowledge to good use.

Hopefully, with their combined abilities and skill, they would be able to overcome. Yet, the thought that their group was almost whole again was of little comfort as the day crept on, and dusk grew nigh.

To Heero, and indeed, everyone in the group, this waiting with baited breath was by far the worst in their long journey and many encounters. Knowing that one of their comrades was so close, and having unspeakable things done to him while they were helpless to save him, much less even reach him, was something that sat in one's heart, worming its way inside until a tight knot of guilt and self loathing formed. This helplessness was not something that Heero, for one, was used to. He had always been in control of any situation, simply because that was the kind of person that he was. If he could not take control of the situation, then he worked towards that until he could.

This was a situation where he could not take that control, and it was unnerving to him.

So many things could go wrong, and they were left with no time for mistakes…

…

Sarkan's hands were still shaking. By the gods, that beast was powerful. Even with the sorcerer's hold on the boy, and the dragon's soul, Shinigami had almost overcome his barrier. He would never admit that to anyone but himself, but it had given his system a shock. Now, he rested in one of his private chambers, having done with the boy for now.

It had been interesting to watch. The boy had fallen, obviously in more pain than he'd ever experienced at one time before. Indeed, most people never felt anything of the sort in their common lifetimes.

Well, lucky him.

Interestingly enough, after the dragon had been landed, the boy had gone comatose. Those violet eyes that matched perfectly the dragon's, now stared blankly at nothing. His mind was gone, and now all that was left was the body, and the spirit, yet captured within the boy. It had been a learning experience, for sure. No one in written history had ever tried something on this scale, so the sorcerer had placed a gamble on the connection between spirit and body, which had ended up paying off for him. Well, another aid had been the fact that some of Shinigami's essence was yet trapped within the crystal atop Sarkan's staff, which was at the physical center of all his circular workings in the fortress. It was the tool he had used to first ensnare the dragon, as the crystal was infused with bits of scale, and the truename of Shinigami.

It had come to him in a vision, the dragon's truename. With the truename, one could control anything. It was part of the underlying laws of magick. No, Shinigami was not the ebon dragon's true name, but simply part of it. Sarkan had a feeling that the knowledge had come to him from his master, but there was really no knowing. It had happened though, so he had used it to his advantage in order to carry out the ritual. Now, he had the dragon, his power source. Once he was done with the ritual, the dragon would be too drained to fight, and the boy would be dead.

See, Sarkan had come up with one more use for the violet eyed youth. Being who he was, and the fact that Sarkan had kept careful tabs on him for the greater part of his time free, the sorcerer knew that the boy had not felt the intimate touch of another.

Waste not, want not, as the old saying went.

Getting gracefully to his feet, the blonde sorcerer glanced towards his eastern facing window.

The sun was even then dipping below the horizon line, painting the sky in a slash of colors that ran from deep blue to purple, to orange and red. Even the sorcerer was hard put to not appreciate it. Well, he was a lover of beauty.

Despite his affection for Solo, the pretty feline youth would have taken the place as his sacrificial virgin in the end, if this opportunity had not come up. Solo would have done it willingly, Sarkan knew, but he had not wished to do it. It really stood as the only thing that his master had asked of him that he was not willing to carry out. So, the boy would take Solo's place, and the feline would stand by Sarkan's side as he brought about the dawning of a new world. The dawning that came after the eclipse of dusk.

He moved about his room, beginning to gather things. The time to prepare was now. If everything was to run smoothly, it needed to be ready ahead of time.

Changing into robes made of crushed velvet of the deepest crimson possible trimmed in black, Sarkan vacated the room in short time, having prepared both his mind and his body for the ritual to come.

It was going to get messy soon, he surmised, heading up the stairs that led to the courtyard that currently held the inert form of the great ebon dragon.

It was his first look at the beast from so close up. Even when he'd first ensnared the beast, Sarkan had done so from some distance, and immediately had sent the dragon on its way, its soul in the body of the boy left behind. Now, he did look, and look well. There was nothing as grand as Shinigami living on this plane of existence, that was for sure.

A grim smile, chilling to look upon crossed the blond sorcerer's features. There would soon be something in place of the great dragon though, and it would be all the grander because of the life Shinigami would sacrifice to bring Him forth.

The sun was gone from the sky, and the night colors ranged across the hemisphere in waves of darker blues and purples, fading into the night time sky. The new moon already shone it's blind, dark eye to the world, a reddish tinge to the edges of the illusory sphere, sometimes called the Hunter's moon because of such. It would take some time for it to climb to its appropriate place amongst the stars, but by then, all would be well and ready.

Sarkan gave the order to bring the unconscious boy up and into the courtyard.

…

The five were restless.

Of course, this was an understatement. Trowa had not yet said that the time was right, so the waiting continued. It was driving them insane, to say the least. Quatre could feel nothing of Duo save for that ever constant pull of the collar, which seemed to be growing ever so slightly. He did not reveal this to the others, as it would simply cause more worry, not to mention giving them all a reason to begin making rash decisions. That, they could not afford. Not when they were so close.

The eternal clock chimed onwards, tolling the end with mournful hue and cry. Each knell clapped deep within the farthest reaches of the soul, for it called to the most subtle purpose of life.

Death.

Quatre paced the floor like a caged animal. He had long ago given up on trying for the same peaceful demeanor that the others had adopted. He was just not that good at hiding his frustration. Instead, he had sought the comfort of Trowa's embrace for a time, only to leave that so cherished place to begin his pacing, which had occupied him from that time on.

Wufei sat upon a bale of old cloth, long since forgotten, and therefore musty with age and dry rot. He'd sat in that same position for the entirety of their time spent waiting, yet this was done only by letting himself go into that kind of meditation that he could pursue for hours upon end. Even now, his eyes were closed, arms folded as he sat with crossed legs atop the cloth. Of course, that was not to say that he wouldn't be up and ready to go at a moment's notice.

Heero simply sat on a wooden bench that was worn from use, and had apparently been put there with the intent to get rid of it later, yet again, had been forgotten. His arms were crossed as well, but his eyes were open, alert, and ready to send a piercing glare at anything that moved, including his four companions. Nothing was safe from the wrath that seethed within him now, and when that wrath finally found an object of focus, woe be unto that focus point.

Meiran sat near the meditating Wufei, at the moment chewing on her bottom lip. She was seated on the floor, leaning against one of the bales of cloth. She was unable, like Quatre, to hide her feelings as well as the others. She was frightened. Not really for herself, as much as for her newfound friends. She was now at a point where her emotions and feelings were beginning to confuse her. But, enough of that now, for they had things to do.

Another thing which bothered her though, was that she had never really apologized to Duo. He was not to blame for her brother's death. Something she had not shared with any of them was the fact that she had not been able to help her brother with her healing talent. There was something in the relation of blood that didn't allow it, and despite her best efforts, her brother had died anyway. So, needing someone to blame to keep from blaming herself, Meiran had latched onto Duo as the cause. Now, she knew that it wasn't true. She really had known it back then too, but when one doesn't wish to believe something, they convince themselves that something entirely different is the real truth.

Trowa was as stoic and silent as ever, propped up against one of the near walls, that single visible eye glittering with its own inner light. He was happy to be able to see his angel again, but Trowa was not one to really show happiness in a way that most people could tell. Only those who knew him would have been able to see the slight softness in his emerald gaze, to the lines of his mouth. Of course, it was a momentary thing, as they were about to go and risk everything for the sake of…well …everything. Perhaps there would be a time after. That was the hope now, for them all. Things might be bad now, but if they succeeded, then there would be the time after with which to be happy once again.

It was then that Trowa's inner alarm went off, and he could sense that the positions of the stars and darkened moon were near to their zenith. Sarkan would be on the move now, and so would they.

The elf stood, a silent signal that the time had come, and everyone else rose to their feet as well. Determination filled the faces of those who were comfortable with showing such, and for the others, an eerie calm settled over their features. They were ready.

After checking to see if the hall was clear, they moved out, again following Trowa through the maze which was the bowels of the Keep.

The time soon came for them to split into the two prearranged groups.

The plan was, to both find and free Duo, and to completely break Sarkan's hold over Shinigami. Well, in order to do that, Sarkan's staff had to be found, and broken. Doing that would not only disrupt every spell that the sorcerer had cast to guard himself, but also free the physical body of Shinigami so that the soul and body could be reunited.

Trowa and Quatre would be pulling off this very crucial part of their plan. The elf was the only one that would be able to get them there, and it was highly doubtful that anyone but Quatre would be able to get past the barriers and magickal defenses in order to get to the staff.

Trowa had given the others explicit directions earlier as to which way to go to end up once more in the courtyard, and the three others had memorized them to the word. It would be up to them to hold off Sarkan until Shinigami could be freed.

With a last going over of the entire plan, the five split ways, two and three. As Trowa and Quatre moved down the adjacent corridor and around the corner, the three moved down their own corridor, following the elf's carefully laid instructions.

The need to hide from approaching guards was rare; it seemed like there was no one left inside the place to hide from. Except for the occasional group, all heading in the same direction it was noted, they encountered no one. It was fortunate, but it also spoke of things coming to an apex.

The need for haste was crucial now, and they made it back into the stable area without mishap.

Giving a brief check of their mounts, they moved on, slipping into the courtyard, which was filled with what probably made up the entire garrison of the Fortress. Men shuffled about nervously, the clangor of armor on armor rising above the milling voices that were all too hushed for such a large crowd.

Of course, the large number of troops was flanked by an even larger ebon monster, and in the center of all this mass, a Dias had been raised. It stood on a platform that brought it over the heads of all those surrounding it, and upon this platform, stood a figure robed in wine and black, addressing those gathered.

"Now is the time for which we have all strived!" Sarkan said, his voice carrying easily over the quiet that grew like a stifling fog.

"The Master's time to arise is soon upon us, and those who have faithfully served Him shall be rewarded most richly!" At this, a shout began to rise up among the garrison, one full of hope, and wonder at just what kind of riches they would be given.

A small, grim smile grew across Sarkan's lips. They had no idea just what the Master had offered them. The glory of being those to first feel His wrath and fury, dieing in a blaze of His just retribution.

"Bring forth the Sacrifice." He then said, and again, a cheer rose up as a pale figure was carried up to the Dias with the aid of a wooden slate highly decorated and carved for the purpose, carried by two who had been given the honor of such. The figure was robed in pale blue, with ribbons woven into the long chestnut hair that snaked and lashed through the air, lifted by the breeze which had suddenly picked up, thin tendrils reaching out as if to exact revenge. There was no longer a collar, for it had been removed after the last 'session' where Shinigami had fallen, but they all knew who it was.

A gasp left Meiran's lips as she recognized the thin form that was to be used as Sarkan's sacrificial lamb.

"…Duo." She whispered, and turned alarmed eyes to her two companions.

Wufei was already moving forward, ready to fight them all, when a heavy hand came down on his shoulder. Turning to look back, he met Heero's smoldering cobalt eyes, and gave a brief nod.

Fire snapped to life about the soldier's thin frame, burning the very air about him as ringlets of crimson flame curled about his unruly hair. His eyes burned, and as he rose his hands into the air, some few in the back of the crowd began to notice them. Heero then closed his hands into tight fists, and is was like someone had landed a fireball into the very midst of the gathered garrison.

Men burst into flame, screaming as their flesh melted and their bones burned to ash. Some, died blessedly quick. Others suffered until the end. However, it was as if hell had risen up to give a sneak peek of just what lay in store for the wayward soul.

…

Quatre and Trowa were close to their goal. The center of Sarkan's spells was located at the center of the maze-like complex, created so that the sorcerer's weakest point was at his center, and therefore the most protected.

Of course, what with most of the guards in the courtyard awaiting their doom, the four or so that the two encountered were easily dealt with. The most difficult part would be for Quatre, who would have to work his way through the layers of spellwork that Sarkan had tied about his staff.

They finally came to what they searched for; the center of the complex. It was guarded by a few more guards before the great wooden door, who were once again, easily dispatched.

Now came the tricky part.

It was Quatre who walked in first now, instead of the elf. The door itself was not spell protected, which was a good thing. They would have a chance to look at just what was laid out before proceeding.

The room within was alight with magefire. It was wreathed about the ceiling, a cold blue in color, and the fire also gleamed from the runes inscribed about the walls and floor. Unbeknownst to them, it was this chamber which had stood as the model for the room which had been used to down the great Shinigami. The only real differences were the power put into each, and what stood at the center of this room. It was obviously a staff, but it was encased in a solid crystal that looked to have grown about it, which could have very well been the case. The crystal itself was inscribed as well, with smaller runes that held Words of power. Many of them, Quatre could recognize, but others he could not. More time and effort had gone into this than nearly anything the little mage had seen before.

The Words he could read there, he could easily counteract, but those he didn't know would end up being the problem areas.

Well, there was nothing for it save to have himself ready for anything. Easier said than done, but after a moment's thought, he stepped into the first ring of runes carved into the floor.

The spell here was nothing too difficult. It was, surprisingly enough, nothing more than a spell of deterring those who wished to get closer. Perhaps so that Sarkan wouldn't end up losing a few curious guards. Only those who knew what it was would be able to go against such a spell, and as such, it was nothing to Quatre.

The next ring of runes held a Word of power that he knew well, and could counteract with another. He would have to finish quickly. There was no telling whether or not the collar would take hold of him as he did this. He'd felt an increase in the pull, and it could have an increased ability to take hold as well. Again, there was nothing for it, save for him to go forward and hope for the best. If it caught him, the hope then was that he could finish before he died.

Speaking the Word to counteract the spell laid, he felt the twisting impact of magick against magick, and would have bet anything that Sarkan had felt it as well.

Indeed, it seemed the sorcerer had, for the spells which before were lined up so nicely to overcome, heaved forward, the invisible skein of magick wrapping itself about Quatre, and dragging him further into the circle of power.

With a cry, Trowa made an attempt at following, but was thrown backwards as a wave of clashing magick drove into him, billowing outwards from where Quatre struggled to overcome the spells which had attacked him. The elf was tossed violently against the wall like a rag doll, and slumped to the ground unconscious. Quatre did not see. Indeed, he could see nothing, nor hear more than the high pitched whine of power amidst the clash and clangor that resembled metal screeching against metal. His body and mind were pulled in so many painful directions at once, the little mage was overwhelmed with agony for a moment, before his strict training came back to him. One did not reach second class without having the experience of taming wild magick under their belt. So too, had Quatre gone through something that was similar to what he felt now. Now, as he had then, he pulled his thoughts back together, and uttered a Word of power. The pulling lessened some, and he was given more leeway to work. Slowly, almost painfully so, Quatre traced symbols through the air, positioning his hands as he did so. With a final muttered incantation, he released his spell into the knot-work of spells that had tangled around him.

A painful gasp was torn from him as one of the unknown runes twisted at him, getting through the shield he had woven. Unable to counteract it with the rune's known opposite, Quatre gasped out an arcane spell that forcefully launched his energy like a lance, straight to the heart of the spell. It hit home, and the rune's power weakened.

Quatre then opened his eyes, the first he'd done so since getting ensnared. His eyes found the heart; Sarkan's crystal atop his staff. The larger crystal which encased the staff was cracked, and the mage realized that he'd managed to strike close enough to cause such damage. Forming the same spell again, with a twist on the intonation that allowed him to further empower his energy lance, Quatre launched the spell towards the crack, bright light fissuring forth from the stone. The light bounced both from outside and within, blinding the mage with its brilliance. Yet, he could still see that he'd again scored a hit.

The brilliant crystal filled with his energy, and cracked fully open with an earsplitting, shattering noise, sending shrapnel flying outwards at ungodly speeds. Crystal shards sharp as razors sliced through Quatre, though he had managed the briefest of barriers before the larger shards hit home.

Now, bleeding from a dozen different cuts and slices, Quatre again formed that same spell. It began to drag at him now, the drain.

It was then that the collar took hold of him.

Correction, the spell on the collar took hold of him, but Quatre was pulled in nevertheless. His consciousness swirled down, blackness reaching up to claim him, his newly formed spell beginning to fizzle away.

"Quatre!"

The shout woke the little mage just enough. With his power rapidly being depleted, Quatre forced as much energy as was left in him into his last assault. Gathering his wits about him, the mage held back the blackness long enough to get it off, launching his final attack into the direct heart of the crystal atop Sarkan's staff.

The small crystal shattered into a thousand pieces, freeing the physical body of Shinigami, and destroying the sorcerer's power structure in one fell swoop. Quatre felt his release almost immediately.

With Sarkan's power broken, the spell on the collar was broken as well, and for the first time in months, Quatre felt like he was fully free from any ensnarement. Of course, he was now drained of energy, but without the collar dragging at his mind, he would build his energy back much quicker than before.

It was then that Quatre realized that the explosion of power released by the crystal had sent him flying backwards, and now he began to pick himself up off the floor, only to be helped to his feet from behind by very familiar hands. It was into the arms that those hands belonged to that he next found himself, held tightly by a very somber elf.

Looking up with bewildered eyes into Trowa's face, Quatre was astonished at actually see what he could only guess to be the beginning of tears sliding down the elf's cheeks. It was with a smile full of the relief he felt so fully, that Trowa held the smaller mage to him.

"Trowa…what…?" Quatre mumbled, yet not rejecting the comfort at the moment, and returning it with his own arms wrapped about the elf's slender waist.

"I thought that I had lost you for the second time….." Trowa whispered, placing a kiss to the crown of the mage's blond head.

"I'm never going to leave you again." The elf continued fervently. Finally, for the briefest of moments, he was able to really express just how much the smaller mage meant to him. It was a moment worth cherishing, but they still had work to do. However, it sent a wave of joy through the little mage's heart to realize that he really did mean that much to someone. It was a warm and fuzzy feeling that might never go away.

Parting only to place a chaste kiss upon the elf's lips, Quatre then took Trowa's hand, and led him to the door.

"The others are in the courtyard still. They're going to need our help. Sarkan's main power might have been broken, but he is still far from helpless." He said, bright aquamarine eyes glancing back at the elf trailing behind him. If anyone would know just how powerful the sorcerer was, then it would be Quatre. After all, he had seen a great deal of the sorcerer's power. And for some reason, the little mage had gotten the distinct feeling that Sarkan had been distracted.

Giving a nod, though he didn't know all that traveled through the little mage's mind, Trowa took the lead for them both, and the two of them rushed to the aid of their friends.

…

Said friends weren't doing too hot at that moment.

The initial chaos and confusion caused by Heero's fire bomb had died down almost too quickly, and now they were engaged in combat. Wufei had found his place amidst a circle of guards with drawn swords, a grim smile on his face as they began their attack.

Heero was back to back with Meiran, her sword flashing to protect his blind spots while he concentrated on keeping his fires lit and burning. Each time a charge was mustered, he sent waves of flame to burn away the retaliation, but he was beginning to tire. He'd never used his gift so virulently before, so he had known no boundaries. However, with waves of men coming on, he was beginning to realize that even he had his limits.

The garrison of Sarkan's fortress was some three hundred strong. Heero's initial attack had decimated a quarter of that number, but the rest had turned on them too quickly, and now they were slowly being backed into the corner. True, men died each minute that passed, but those minutes were beginning to cost Heero dearly in terms of energy.

Not to mention that they had not stopped Sarkan. The sorcerer had halted his ritual long enough to bark orders, but now he was again focused on his virgin sacrifice. They needed to reach that Dias before Duo was killed to bring forth Sarkan's demon master!

Though it looked like they weren't going to get the chance to even make it to the platform at the rate this battle was going.

However, the tide suddenly turned as something huge unexpectedly just appeared out of thin air from across the courtyard. Looking to be made of some tan colored stone, the huge humanoid creature had huge, ram-like horns curling out from its head, and scythe-like claws upon each swinging hand.
"It's an earth summon." Heero said to no one in particular, light surprise coloring his voice, which Meiran caught as she slid her sword between the ribs of a guard who had somehow made it past the wall of flames behind them. Eviscerating the guard, she turned to look as well, as the earth summon tore into the flank of the amassed troops, throwing guards here and there, and slicing through their armor like butter. Blood ran thick, soon coating the scythes that the earth summon used to the best of its ability.

The press of men eased as many of them began to change the direction of their charge, half of them heading towards the elemental, and half away from it in a panic.

Wufei was able to join their little protected circle once again, bleeding in a few spots, but more or less ok. He was the one to spot the two at the other end of the courtyard, Trowa guarding Quatre as the mage controlled his magicks.

The three didn't know what had changed so that Quatre could use his magic again, but they were glad for it, that was sure. Quatre's next spell sent more men flying, as an explosion was set off right under the feet of the men directly between the three, and the Dias.

It effectively cleared their path to Sarkan, and Duo.

Taking their chance, Heero further cleared their path by blasting a line of fire from them to the platform, which they followed close on the heels of. They then came to the base of the Dias, right below where Sarkan worked his ritual, raising a blade into the air even as they reached it.

The blade plunged down, and Heero acted before he thought. A fire ball launched with inhuman speed towards Sarkan's unprotected back, the sorcerer noticing, but unable to do anything before it struck.

And from nowhere, Solo was there, putting himself between the projectile and his master, and the fireball struck the feline instead of the sorcerer, knocking the both of them over the Dias and onto the other side of the platform in a ball of flaming agony.

Quick as they could, the three climbed up the platform to the top, where their last comrade waited.

Duo was laid on the Dias, chestnut hair streaming about his pale features. The front of the sacrificial robe had been cut open, and into the bare flesh of his chest had been carved the arcane runes and summoning circle needed to bring forth Sarkan's master into this realm. He was still alive though. His unseeing eyes were half open and staring at nothing, and it tore at Heero's heart see him like that; so broken beyond repair. Gathering the long haired youth to him, Heero lifted Duo into his arms as if he weighed nothing, and turned to the others.

"Lets go…" He muttered, beginning the climb down.

An insane laughter filled the air before they made it down.

"You think that you've stopped Him!? He's here! And He will destroy this pathetic world and all that you hold dear!!" It was Sarkan. He yet lived, and they saw where he had fallen. He was burned, clothes ripped, bruises forming. The lifeless body in his arms was that of the feline, Solo, burned beyond recognition, but clasped within the sorcerer's grip like a lover. Sarkan's eyes were cast upwards, mouth open in gleeful laughter as lightening spiked through the clouds that had gathered overhead.

"He is here, and He will see you all dead!!" He screamed, and a shattering crack shook the very heavens as the rift between worlds was ripped open from the other side; the completed ritual, and life of the original sacrifice accepted.

Sarkan's master was coming into this world.

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Yay for updates

I do hope that I can break 300 reviews with this chapter. It's even longer than the previous one, and despite what I said in the last chapter, I doubt that one more chapter will finish it up. I'm seeing up to three more before I'm finished. I'm just bad at trying to write short I guess.

There were about three stopping points that I had eyed in Ch 31 that I skipped over and continued writing, so here is yet another super extended chapter for your reading pleasure.

Thanks to all of my readers and reviewers, you are my inspiration.

-Hseru