Author Notes: Edit: Heavily edited, along with the previous chapters. There are some important things I forgot to put in initially. Also, I felt that the last time I wrote this chapter, it had no relevance. Now that I have more thoughts on the direction this should take, I've redone this chapter, although it still has some…unneeded content.

Edit: (swears) I accidentally left all my notes at the end of the chapter. Hopefully, for those who have seen it, it didn't give you many hints on what happens later...

Disclaimer: Ragnarok Online doesn't belong to me and today's poem thing doesn't either. It was a song I learnt in Music class a while back. Last disclaimer, because I'm lazy.

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Ragnarok Online

Deadly Enchantment

Chapter 3 – Desert Charms

--

All sing in praise of the camel,

That most industrious mammal!

They call him the ship,

The ship of the desert,

The king of the burning sands!

Ah! The king of the burning sands!

--

Trian groggily opened his eyes, squinting as he tried to avoid the heated stare of the sun. His mouth felt incredibly dry…and sandy. Scrambling to his knees, he spat out the grains of sand that had somehow crept into his mouth as he had slept. Shielding his eyes as he walked through the desert, he could think of only one place that had a desert like this, and that was Morroc. He wasn't sure how long he had been walking, but the intense heat made him wish he could simply melt on the spot. He was starting to envy the drops that were happily bouncing around, completely unaffected by the heat. It took him a few minutes to realise that he was feeling jealous of an orange blob of gelatine, of all things!

"…I must be going mad…" he mumbled, staggering on.

He trekked across the desert, barely paying any attention to where he was going. The end of his staff dragged in the sand, leaving behind a winding trail like the tracks of a slithering snake. He was so focused on not focusing on the heat that he almost didn't notice the subtle 'shift' in the world around him. Sensing the change, Trian stopped abruptly, shielding his eyes to look around. The desert looked the same, yet there was something different about it. He couldn't quite put his finger on it…He wasn't given the time to figure out what exactly was different, though, as the strangest creature he had ever seen lumbered up to catch his attention. It had a grumpy looking face, but seemed to find travelling across the sand easy. Although it seemed fairly heavy in build, it ambled towards Trian with clumsy ease. To his confusion, there were two strange lumps sticking out of the animal's back. As it drew near him, it snorted and veered away, but not before Trian reached out to run his gloved hands over its leathery skin.

"Ho! Don't touch the camel, stranger! She's likely to bite!"

No sooner had Trian whirled to see who was talking to him, he felt a set of slobbery teeth clamp onto his fingers. Using brand of colourful language he had learnt from the backstreets of Morroc, he cursed as he yanked his hand away. Unfortunately, the 'camel' still had his glove in her mouth and was chewing it with relish. More of these strange camels neared him, although these ones either had riders on them or were carrying supplies. The riders wore loose clothing and head wraps. Some also covered their face until he could only see their eyes.

"What are you doing out here?" asked one of the riders, pulling on the camel's reins. "You don't seem to be dressed very practically for life out here. Been having a hard time? Got lost?"

"You could say that," Trian replied, with a wry smile. "I can't say I've seen any of these…camels…before."

The rider laughed. "You're an odd one, stranger. Everyone knows camels are the only way to cross the desert. They're called the 'ships of the desert' for a reason."

"I…see…"

"Would you like a ride to the nearest town? You look dead on your feet."

However, before he could accept the offer, that mysterious world faded away from him. Just faintly, he could hear a woman's voice singing, so softly, so tantalisingly sweet. Trian closed his eyes and simply listened, the words unrecognisable, yet beautiful. He could almost see in his mind's eye a great lotus being coaxed to flower by the woman. He didn't want to leave this place; for the first time in a long time, he felt relaxed and unburdened. Yet…

"Follow me…"

She beckoned to him, promising to lead him to a distant land, a land where the heart could be free. A land where he could be unchained and unfettered from his burdens. A land across the sea where he could taste the nectar of joy that he had been denied for years. His chest ached with yearning to discover that paradise. She called again. Trian could almost 'see' her, but her image simply slipped away, as if he was trying to hold mist. He wanted to find out who she was…

"Follow me…"

She was there, he knew. Opening his violet eyes, Trian quietly whispered, "Follow me…" his breath a mere wisp of air. There was no choice in his decision. He used his ears and followed.

--

"Follow me…"

Tyler felt a slight shiver run down his spine. Clenching his fist that rested on the table he was seated at, he tried to concentrate on the small bumps on the page of the book he was 'reading'. It was one of the few books in Yuno that had been written in Braille, the written language for the blind. However, even his desire to know more could not distract him from the strange feeling he was getting. Frowning, he fumbled for a bookmark before silently closing the book. The sage focused his attention inward, towards the Stream.

There was definitely something strange going on. He was getting odd impulses from the Stream, like something foreign was interfering with it. If the Stream was a sentient being, it would be like something was drawing its attention elsewhere…

Tyler rubbed his forehead in a vain attempt to get rid of the headache that was forming. Almost unwillingly, he detached himself from his contact with the Stream. All sages spent a lot of time 'floating' between the Stream and the physical plane, maintaining a delicate balance between both. However, Tyler knew better than most the signs of exhaustion from floating for extended periods of time. He knew he was starting to feel the strain that was associated with floating in the Stream. What was strange was that he had last come out of floating only a mere three days ago. He should have been able to stay floating with the Stream for at least another week…

Perhaps others may have noticed the something is wrong…

He stood up and unsteadily picked his way out of the library, feeling awkward without having Trian there to guide and help him. He was slowly getting used to the layout of the library, though he still had to stick to the walls or the edge of bookshelves. Usually someone would see him and take the time and help him to the door at the very least. Today, though, the library was empty; it was so early in the morning it could be considered night.

Someone hooked their arm under his. "Would you like some help back?" the librarian asked, her voice soft and fluting.

Tyler nodded. "Yes, thank you."

Tyler's journey back to Trian's-cum-his home passed in an instant. He had almost no recollection of it. He only remembered being at the library, then being at home and bidding the librarian goodnight. He couldn't even remember opening the door to the house…

The Stream could wait. He could figure out that mystery later, when he could think properly. Sleep called…

--

…This was no paradise. This was Morroc, the land of cut-throat thieves, assassins and rogues. Morroc was as far from the 'Promised Land' as you could get. That alluring voice was gone, faded away just like he had. He no longer had a corporeal form, his hand simply going through anything he tried to touch. It frustrated him to no end, but not having to walk around walls was an interesting sensation.

"No! It's MINE! Give it back!"

Trian turned his head towards the sound of a child's voice. He saw a small boy facing off three larger, older thieves, all of them well into their teens. Although all the thieves were olive skinned like many native Morrocans, the boy was strangely pale. Even with a slight tan, the child was still much, much paler than the teens. One of the teens was dangling something in front of the child's face, although Trian couldn't quite see what it was. Right now, he would have given anything to be able to help the poor, beleaguered child.

"Or else what, kid?" the older boy sneered, leering at the little boy. "You'll go crying to your mama?"

The boy didn't bristle at the insult and fling himself at the thief. Instead, his curiously strange amber eyes seemed to harden as he snarled, "If you don't give it back…I'll kill you all."

There was a long pause before the thieves couldn't contain their laughter any longer. "You? Kill us?" one of the teens shrieked, mocking the boy's statement as he held his sides in mirth. "Why, you can't even–" His sentence was abruptly cut off as he suddenly clutched at his stomach, trying to hold in his guts in from a slash to his belly. His companions looked on in shock as a poring came out of nowhere and barrelled into the back of his knees. Falling forward, he never saw the little boy slide a dagger into the little niche at the back of his skull. By the time the teen hit the ground, he was dead.

Regaining use of their limbs at the sight of their friend being killed, the two remaining thieves lunged for the child, shouting, "You'll pay for that!"

Trian could only look on in horror as they fought with the boy and poring. The boy took dangerous risks, but somehow, he managed to avoid fatal injuries. Taking a dive to avoid the thieves' attacks, the boy rolled behind one of the teens. The poring cannoned into the thief's stomach, distracting him to allow the child jump onto his back and stick his dagger into his spine. Jerking violently, the thief flung the boy off his back before he collapsed to the ground with the dagger still in him. The child only winced when he didn't roll out of the way of the dead thief's partner's short sword fast enough. The blade cut through his shirt and grazed his side. Before the thief could retract his sword and swing again, the boy leaped towards him. Caught by surprise, the thief reflexively punched out, sending the boy flying back.

As he rolled to break his fall, the boy pulled his dagger out from the back of the dead thief's corpse. The live one thrust his sword towards the boy again, but rather than dodging the attack completely, the boy moved towards his adversary. The blade seared along the side of the boy's neck, but did not cut anything vital. Before the thief could change the direction of his attack to lop off the child's head, the boy put his head down and cannoned into his stomach. Both thief and boy went down, but the boy had achieved what he had wanted. With a wide grin, the poring quickly swallowed up the sword that lay on the ground and leaped onto the thief's face. When the thief managed to pull the poring off, the last thing he saw was a pair of amber eyes and a dagger descending across his throat.

Trian couldn't help but be amazed and horrified at the fight between the boy and the three thieves. Both poring and child seemed to know exactly what the other needed in the battle. It was like as if they could read each other's mind. Yet, despite being flabbergasted at the boy-poring pair killing the three older thieves, the wizard couldn't help but feel sickened at the way the boy killed them. He did it coldly, as unfeeling as a veteran assassin. His shocked mind kept on repeating over and over in his head, What sort of demon child is this?

When the last thief gave his final gasp of breath, the boy sat down next to him, hanging his head as if he was suddenly wearied by it all. Using his dagger, he pried open the dead thief's hand and held up a simple necklace with the dagger's blade. It was innocuous looking, with its simple leather thong, but what hung from at was a completely different matter. A fang of the crystalline ice dangled on the end of the necklace. It was a wonder it didn't melt under the heat of Morroc. The boy delicately picked it up before clasping it close to his chest. "Why do they always want to take her away from me?" he whispered.

The poring nudged him. "We need to leave," the creature replied, to Trian's surprise. "The Thieves' Guild won't be happy three of its members are dead. One of the members, you know, the little snitch? He was saw everything. We need to leave now."

"Hello, wanderer."

The wizard turned to see a seal as the boy, the poring and Morroc faded away. He didn't comment on the fishtail that was sticking out of the creature's mouth, though he stared at it. Seeing that the fishtail was distracting its audience, the seal quickly gulped it down.

"Those thieves aspired to become assassins, but they were far too careless in what they did. Ah well. The child is a curious boy, is he not?" the seal said, shuffling towards Trian. "NightEyes né Lutie, born about fifteen years from now. Though I use 'now' loosely; time is but a blink of an eye. Both parents died tragically in Lutie. The father died from a combination of a broken heart, a past history of smoking and influenzal pneumonia, most interestingly, leaving his data to gather dust until another found it. Pity he never got to see his hard work bear fruit. Little NightEyes was left in the care of a poring, who took him to Morroc. First became a freelance thief before becoming a freelance rogue and–"

"…Why are you telling me this?" Trian frowned, folding his arms. He was a little bit disgusted at the creature when it said that the father had an interesting death.

The seal seemed taken aback at his question. "Oh, not interested? Ah well, never mind then. You've had a glimpse of the image of another world and of someone's future in Rune-Midgard.

There is much for you to come to grips with. After all, it's the reason why you're here. Why did you follow the voice?"

Trian blinked in surprise at the sudden question. "She promised something that I'd never experienced before. No responsibilities, no expectations…" A memory flashed in his mind. "When I first abandoned my acolyte training to become a magician, I could feel my parents' disappointment. Even if they accept my choice now, I…I don't know…Just earlier, in the battle with the demi-humans, I felt I could have done so much more if I was a priest, rather than a half acolyte wizard.

All these spells I learnt at Yuno's Magic School, and all the spells I learnt at Geffen's Wizard Academy, they aim at destroying the 'enemy'. But…"

"You dislike conflict and death, am I not correct?"

Trian stared at his shaking hands, not really seeing them at all.

"Do you truly believe that if you had chosen the path of the priest that you would be happy? Remember, what was the reason you left acolyte training?"

Why did he leave…?

The seal filled in the blanks for him. "Do not be yoked together with unbelievers. For what do righteousness and wickedness have in common? Or what fellowship can light have with darkness?"

Trian grimaced as a sound like nails scraping down a black board. Looking down, he took a sharp breath at what he saw. The darkness beneath his feet rippled, as if a pebble had been dropped into a pool of water. Then, beginning from the darkness between the seal and Trian, an image spread through the dark, stretching as far as the wizard could see. His purple eyes widened in realisation. This was…!

--

Rosa resisted the urge to find a wall and bang her head repeatedly against it. There was just no getting through to these people! "As I said, it would be better for Trian to be taken to Yuno," she said deliberately slowly.

"However, we believe it would be better if he was to remain here," one of the wizard councillors countered monotonously.

God, did these people have no heart or something? She had already explained time and time again that Trian should be back home with his family and friends. They wanted to keep him here, in Geffen, where there were few buildings that remained completely intact. Were they insane?

"There are many good reasons to move my son to Yuno," a voice suddenly spoke up.

Rosa turned to see a monk leaning casually against the doorframe. It was obvious he had travelled a long way, but he still looked fresh and energetic. As usual, he was wearing his hood over his messy white hair. He watched the wizard council's reaction to his entrance with his dark, almost black eyes. Rosa couldn't help but smile at the sight of the monk, moving towards him to embrace him warmly. "I wasn't expecting you to be here until at least tomorrow, Aleran," she whispered.

He hugged her back, murmuring, "When I heard what happened, nothing could stop me from coming to Geffen as quickly as possible."

One of the councillors coughed irritably, breaking the moment. "Pray, tell us what those reasons are, Lizray."

Aleran gently let go of Rosa. "We came from Yuno. Trian should be back home, where he has the comfort of familiarity, old friends…and family," he replied emphatically. Rosa was about to tell him that no matter how emotional their family's reasons were, the wizard council would refuse to accept them.

"That is not good enough reason–"

"If you want more practical reasons to move Trian to Yuno, I can give you them," the monk interrupted, a flicker of annoyance passing over his usually benign face. "I know you wish to keep my son close to…study him." A ripple of murmurs passed around the wizard council. "I understand that something of this sort is an extremely rare occurrence, and you want to make the most of an opportunity." At this point, he raised his voice slightly. "However, I will point out that Geffen is in ruins at the present time, and does not hold the resources and people to facilitate proper, thorough analysis. Also, you do not know if the demi-humans will attack again. From what I have heard, their immortal leaders did not turn up during their attack. They could easily rally another army, and wipe out Geffen if they chose to do so.

"Yuno is to the far north, surrounded by cliff faces and mountains, and is far above the reach of any ground invaders. The city also has its own semi-immortal guardian, Arc Angeling, who protects its borders. Also, to reach Yuno, invaders must pass through Al De Baran. As you should be able to see, Yuno is by far much safer than Geffen at the present time. Do you wish for me to continue?"

The wizard council held a quick, whispered discussion amongst themselves. "We will allow the removal of Trian Lizray to Yuno," one of the wizards haughtily declared. Leaning forward on his table, he continued, "However, we expect a copy of all records and all observations made concerning young Trian to be forwarded to us. We will hold you to your word, Lizray. We will know if you don't hold your end of the bargain."

Aleran sketched a bow to the council, letting a tinge of sarcasm edge his voice. "Thank you for your wise decision."

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Author's Note: Comments and criticism welcome, as usual.