Hello everyone! First of all, I'm sorry for the wait. I changed the timeline so that Trimensis was the end of the school year, not the start, and I needed to update it everywhere. So I had to fix things, and in the meantime, I couldn't update. Sorry about that – I know that it's frustrating when writers don't update.

I've got to catch up, so I'm going to post four chapters now. Those chapters are what end Part 2, anyways.

Previously on ATIS...

"Twenty-two years ago, the rainbow shard was given to us by a citizen who sought to liberate the realm of Glacia. We were meant to guard it, with one exception. We were instructed to only give it to someone who proved he or she had the character to save the kingdom. You already have the first two shards; otherwise, you would not have come here. You passed the first test, of skill, to gain the lightning shard; you also passed the second test, of strength, to gain the thunder shard. Now you must pass the third test, of character, to gain the rainbow shard."

"What do I need to do to prove myself?" Sharzad wanted to know. Her chin trembled, but she stayed resolute. "I'll do anything. I – I'll do anything to save the Magical Dimension."

-o-o-o-

"Darius, stop!" Maire pleaded, her voice sounding scared. "This isn't you. It wasn't Daewon who did it!"

"Of course you're taking his side!" Darius turned on her. "Not that it matters anymore." He glared at her. "As of now, we are not working together anymore."

"You mean" –

"We are not looking for Aria anymore," Darius cut her off. "It is that search which took my sister's life. I will not give it any thought anymore!"

"No," Maire said, her voice sounding weak. "You can't say that."

"Shut up." Darius looked to the ground, his voice filled with pain. "My heroics killed Sharzad. I will never be a hero again."

-o-o-o-

Albert looked at Franc in concern. "Look, buddy," he said, "Let me give ya some man-to-man advice."

Franc glared at him. Albert was the patronizing type, and he always had "advice" for everyone.

"Ya need to let it out," he said. "If ya keep carryin' it around, it'll just fester and build up. There's gotta be some release. If ya need ta see a counselor or anythin', I'll hit ya up."

Franc's blood boiled. "I'm not seeing any counselor."

"I think ya need to, man," said Albert. "It's" –

"No!" Franc glared at Albert. "I am not spending money I don't have for someone to pull me apart."

"It'll help ya," said Albert, looking alarmed. "I'm just sayin'" –

"Look, can you not keep me here all day?" Franc interrupted. Albert let out a sigh.

"It's yer choice."

CHAPTER 16: WEB OF LIES

4 days until…

Sharzad awoke, anxiety building in her heart. She sat up in a cross-legged position, her legs shaking.

Today she was going to meet with Sedna, who would decide her fate. She knew that Sedna was merciless, with no interest but her tribe in at heart. Yet, if what Akna said was true, maybe there was some hope.

"Prisoner," a voice shouted. A male guard walked into the igloo, his spear poised pointed directly at Sharzad. He nodded at Nukilik. "You are to come with me. Chieftain Sedna is ready to see the girl now."

Sharzad rose to her feet unsteadily, holding onto the igloo walls for support. She walked out of the igloo and followed the guard. Nukilik followed straight behind.

They walked through the village. Sharzad looked up and realized it was still night. For how long has it been night? Light didn't come through the igloo, so she couldn't be sure of what was going on outside. All she remembered was that it was night when she came here, and now it was night when she was leaving. Why are these people operating by night?

They reached the lakefront. It was far away from the village, but it was close enough that Sedna or anyone else would be able to call for help if she caused trouble. Sharzad had no intention of causing trouble, anyhow. I just want her to believe me. She stared at Sedna.

The woman's long brown tresses were bound back with net. She wore a tunic underneath her sealskin cape, and held a spear in her hand. She wore a jagged headdress of sorts, which clearly designated her as the leader of the Tribe. She looked deadly, and her unforgiving eyes narrowed at Sharzad.

This is going to be harder than I thought, Sharzad realized. She swallowed and looked at Sedna, but found she was unable to meet her gaze. Lowering her head, she stared at the ground.

"Thank you," Sedna barked at Nukilik and the male guard. She turned her gaze towards Sharzad again, and her eyes were blazing. "What say you, prisoner? What is your reason for this foul invasion of our land?"

Sharzad managed to look up. She had been rehearsing all night, but at the sight of Sedna's face, all scripts left her mind. "You have to believe me," she choked out. "When I saw you yesterday, talking to those men, I wasn't spying on you to report to someone else. I'm not the enemy."

"Not the enemy?" Sedna laughed bitterly. "And I'm supposed to believe that?" She glared at Sharzad even more intensely. "You are a foreigner. There is only one person who has the power to bring foreigners into this land: the Queen. And the Queen's servant murdered my father in cold blood. You are going to have to try harder than that."

Sharzad swallowed. What should I say? She closed her eyes. Images of falling through the Gate of Glacia, being attacked by Stormy, Darius's furious face when he'd found out what had happened – all of that went through her mind. Another image came to mind – the old woman being attacked by Isolde's men.

These are her people, Sharzad realized. These are the people who are being oppressed by Isolde and her regime. I'm here to help them. She clenched her fists. I'm here to stop them from being destroyed. She opened her eyes.

"I'm not here to hurt you," she said. "I'm here to help you. In fact, I came on a mission to open the Gate and liberate your realm, and bring the queen to justice."

"So the UR cares about us now?" Sedna snorted. "Odd that they did nothing sixty-three years ago, when Glacia actually was a member state. Interesting why they would send a shrimp such as you, though."

"I'm not with the UR!" Sharzad cried, stung at being called a shrimp. "I'm here on my own! I came here because I was on a mission to find Aria, so that I could bring her back home so she could recover! She didn't come here anymore voluntarily than I did, Chieftain. She was forced to attack your tribe!"

Now Sedna really exploded. Sharzad shrank back as the older girl towered over her, her eyes narrowed with fury.

"Forced to attack my tribe? I didn't see anyone holding a threatening spell to her head! She attacked my people, destroyed houses, and killed my father!" She glared at Sharzad. "And you say she was forced to do it?"

"She didn't do it on her own!" Sharzad said desperately. "She was possessed! Someone made her do it!"

"Really?" Sedna snorted. "And who exactly would make her do that?"

"She wouldn't do it on her own!" Sharzad cried. "She went to my school, Alfea College for Fairies, and I know she would never have killed anyone on her own! She's possessed! She's being possessed by Queen Isolde!"

The last word hit the air like an icy blast, and Sharzad drew back, shocked. How did I not know that before? Now that she'd said it, it was so obvious. Sedna stared at her, a stunned expression on her face.

"The Queen did it?" she said in a strange voice. "The Queen possessed that girl?"

"I – I think so," Sharzad said, feeling even more scared than she was before. "I'm sorry if I said something wrong."

"That's not wrong," Sedna interrupted. "It's brilliant. It makes the most sense out of everything you've said so far." Her eyes were on fire, a vengeance burning in their depths.

Silence reigned again, and Sharzad stared up at Sedna. The woman's face was shrewdly calculated, but her eyes were still narrowed – clearly, she didn't think Sharzad was off the hook yet. She stared down at the girl.

"You still haven't offered me any proof of your innocence," she said. "For all I know, you could be another enemy, out to infiltrate my Tribe. How did you end up in Glacia?"

Sharzad swallowed. She knew she was going to have to do more than just explain, the same way she'd done with Akna – she was going to have to offer tangible proof. Nukilik's words flashed through her mind: where's your transformation?

She turned back to Sedna, who was watching her, her arms crossed. Sharzad swallowed. In the tiniest of tiny voices, she lowered her head meekly, and then she spoke.

"I'm not going to attack you – or anyone else," she said. "I just want to prove you something – and I can only do that by transforming. Please, please let me do this."

Sedna's eyes were still narrowed, and she stared at Sharzad. And this time, Sharzad looked up, and managed to hold her gaze. She saw straight into Sedna's sea blue eyes, eyes that were proud and defiant – but also eyes that were very loyal, and would do anything to keep the Tribe safe. After a while, Sedna nodded.

"All right." She unbound Sharzad's hands, tossing the sealskin handcuffs aside. "Now show me what you've got."

Sharzad felt the power returning back to her hands, to every part of her body, like blood flowing freely through her veins. She closed her eyes, relishing in her new energy. I'm back… And then she began to transform.

It was like every part of her body felt electrified. Her body transformed, and she felt power and energy surging into her body, making her complete and whole. This, she knew, was who she was. This was what she was going to show Sedna. I'm here, and I'm ready to take on whatever troubles may come!

The yellow cocoon disappeared. She knelt on the snow, her wings glittering and her entire body shining. She pulled her pouch of fairy-dust from around her neck and offered it to the chieftain. Sedna took it, her eyes still narrowed, though a glimmer of surprise appeared from them.

"I earned this from saving my brother's life," she said. "Just outside of the Gate of Glacia, I had a key, ready to unlock the Gate and liberate the citizens of Nunangat. The key didn't work, and I don't know what happened to it. But some villains were tagging us, and they attempted to attack my brother, but I leapt in front of him to take the blow. That is how I hit the Gate, and that is how I fell, until I hit Glacia. And then… I was reborn, taking upon my new role with the power of Enchantix."

"Hmm." Sedna held the pouch of fairy-dust in her hands, her eyes narrowed as she surveyed it. A glimmer of surprise appeared in her eyes. "This is true fairy-dust." She handed it back to Sharzad. "How did you know that Aria was here, exactly?"

"I was told by some witches," Sharzad said. "Witches who were working with us, but who ultimately betrayed us and attacked us in front of the Gate. That's the reason why I'm even here."

"And how exactly do those witches know?" asked Sedna, her eyes narrowed.

"I… don't know?" Sharzad asked nervously. The truth was, she had no idea. She had never even considered that, back when she had first made the pact with Darcy and Stormy. If only we'd thought of that in the first place… "They're highly classified criminals. You wouldn't know of them, as they committed their crimes far after Glacia was sealed off from the rest of the dimension. We were fools to listen to them."

"Clearly," Sedna snorted, and Sharzad's heart lurched in fear. Does she no longer believe me? The chief glared down at her. "So, what about that key you mentioned earlier?"

"Key?" asked Sharzad, blankly.

"The key you supposedly used to try and open the Gate of Glacia," Sedna responded. "How did you forge that? Don't tell me it was just lying around somewhere. I want details. Where did you find it?"

"On a mission," Sharzad said. "There were three shards; each one was hidden in parts of my home realm. Again, that's what the witches told us. The third shard was held by the guardian fairy of Rangin, Anahita. She told me about the locking of Glacia. You see, the shards of the key were entrusted to Anahita by a woman of Glacia, just before the realm was locked. She showed me footage of her execution, and I saw it happening right before my eyes" –

"Tootega?" Now Sedna's face had gone white.

"What?" asked Sharzad, blankly.

"Tootega." Sedna stared down at Sharzad. "That's the name of the woman you saw. She was my great-aunt, formerly a member of this tribe."

"That was – her?" Sharzad gasped. "What do you know about her?"

"She was our current Queen's nanny," answered Sedna. "As a young girl, the previous king drafted her to work in the castle. When the royal family takes you as a servant, it's not a question – her parents had no choice but to send her off. She raised her from birth, and was in the castle until well after the Queen was crowned."

"And… what happened?"

"The Queen took over the kingdom," Sedna said simply. "She had Tootega executed, exactly sixty-three years ago. No one knows why. Her execution was shown everywhere – no one could escape from it."

Anahita said she was executed for treason, Sharzad remembered. This was after she gave Anahita the shards, obviously – Suddenly, it hit her like lightning.

"She gave Anahita the shards, so that someone would open the Gate someday!" Sharzad gasped. "And Isolde found out! That's why she had Tootega executed! Since she didn't know where the shards had ended up, she couldn't get them back, but she still had her killed so the secret wouldn't slip out!" Her heart began to race. "And that key is supposed to be used to open the Gate!"

"But you just said the key didn't work," Sedna reminded her, suspiciously.

"Don't you see?" Sharzad protested. "There is a way to open the Gate – we don't need to depend on Isolde. We can do it ourselves! That's what Tootega wanted! That's the job she left for the next generation! For – the Spring Soldiers!"

"But how?" Sedna demanded. "You're not explaining yourself. The Gate has been intact for decades! How do you expect us to be able to remove it?"

"I don't know – we'll find a way!" Sharzad said, desperately. "But we'll do it. Think of it – if I was able to get to this side alive, then we must have a chance! We'll have this realm liberated, and Nunangat will be a powerful realm once more."

For some reason, Leif came to her mind – the tawny-haired boy with blue eyes. Why am I thinking about him? She didn't even know him. And yet, she viewed him as an icon of Nunangat's suffering – a realm whose voice could no longer be heard. And I want to open that voice again.

When Sedna still looked at her with wary eyes, Sharzad added, "Don't you want this realm liberated? You've never even seen springtime! So help me! Help me liberate this realm and" –

"Of course I want that Gate taken down!" Sedna snapped. "But Nuniq won't listen to me – without the Spring Soldiers' backing, this mission is futile. Do you understand that even speaking like this is treason? Isolde has wiped out tribes for speaking out against her before."

"Oh." Sharzad hadn't realized that. "Well, we've got to do something. We can't just let her rule our lives."

"Let me think for a second." Sedna closed her eyes. A few moments passed in silence, and Sharzad waited. When Sedna opened her eyes, she focused them very closely on Sharzad.

"There is only one person whom I believe can help us," she said. "And that is the Elder of the Nunangat Tribes. He lives in a cave not far from here, and will be able to advise us on our course of action. I will take you to his crypt, and we will decide what is to be done. And, Sharzad?"

"Yes?" asked Sharzad, looking up at the chieftain. The older girl's eyes narrowed as she looked down at Sharzad.

"Your story still has many holes in it," she said, severely. "But I am getting the vibe that your intentions are altruistic – at least, you haven't said anything to make me believe otherwise. I still don't believe Aria deserves amnesty of any sort. But I am a woman of my word, and this is my deal with you." She faced the Fulgurian princess, and Sharzad looked up, gazing into her eyes.

"We will go to speak to the Elder tomorrow. I will ask him if what you are saying is true, and we will make decisions from there. If he corroborates your story, then I will not harm Aria, on the condition that you help me liberate this Tribe from Glacia's rule. But if you are lying, then you are solely under my jurisdiction. It will be up to me to decide your fate, and I can assure that it will not be pleasant. Is that a deal?"

"Yes," Sharzad vowed. She stuck out her arm, and they shook hands. Sharzad felt a tingle going up her arm, and knew that, no matter what, the deal was sealed. There's no going back now…

"Very well, then." Sedna nodded. "Guards!"

Nukilik and the other man came back. The man placed the sealskin handcuffs over Sharzad's wrists, which immediately made her revert back to civilian form.

"Take our prisoner back to the igloo," Sedna ordered. "Make sure she is well-fed and rested. And make sure she comes to no harm."

They nodded. "It will be as you say, Chief." They led Sharzad away.

She turned around, but Sedna was not looking at her; she was staring at the ground. Almost as if she was praying. Sharzad lifted her head upwards, and stared above.

She saw the Gate, gleaming blue in the distance. A Gate that had done nothing other than entrap its citizens below, keeping them forever imprisoned in their realm, one that was a cold shadow of what it'd been before.

I'm going to do this. Determination rose in her heart, and she imagined Darius, realms away. I'm going to save this realm, or die trying. She knew that, for this cause, she would give her life.

The Grotte des Miroirs stood ahead of him, the Prophetess's cave. Franc stared up at the edifice, his eyes widening as he saw it for what it was.

The cave's very essence radiated with power. It was a pearly white structure, not unlike the king's castle. It was in the shape of a rock temple, completely natural and unadulterated. Nervously, Franc stepped forward, towards the cave.

For a second, he considered turning back. He didn't want to be here, not in a place where he was so insignificant. But he had no choice. With a sigh, he walked towards the cave, entering through the opening at the front.

After his meltdown in Angéle's old room, he'd collapsed on her bed, unable to leave the house. He'd only gotten up to eat stale food from his pack or to use the bathroom; for the rest of the day, he was lying in her bed. She left me, she left me, she left me… He closed his eyes.

And a part of him had hated himself. After all, he must have done something to make her feel uncomfortable. It couldn't have been anyone's fault but his own. And his little girl had left him, making him the broken shell of who he once was.

He didn't know what had made him get up and continue his journey. Something had spoken to him, a small, foolish voice that told him there was still hope. And so he'd slowly risen, continuing his journey to the west, until the yellowstone road ended and he stood in front of the cave, the one that would be the answers to all of his problems.

He entered the cave. There were mirrors on every side, staring back at him and showing his reflection in every one. Gods… He stared at them, at a loss for words.

All the mirrors showed him in grief (say "his grief", it flows better), replaying the scene from last week. They were demonic and cruel, showing every weak turn of him that he didn't want to see. I can't look at that… He closed his eyes, shutting out the horrific sight.

Just get me to where I need to go… He walked forward, still keeping his eyes squeezed shut as he strode, not wanting to see the abomination that peeked at him at every corner. He stepped forward, his mind filled with pained thoughts.

And then he fell.

Franc yelped as he hit water, the coldest water he'd ever felt. It was horrifyingly pure, the cleanliness of it souring in his mouth. Stop! He cried out as an image appeared above him, on the surface of the water. Craning his neck, he gazed up.

It was an image of Angéle. She was lying down on a bed, looking the worst Franc had ever seen her. Her skin was sallow, and her hair was limp. He watched in horror as she lay down, her eyes closed in pain…

No! It couldn't be. Franc clenched his teeth, staring helplessly at the reflection of his daughter, the girl he couldn't do anything to save.

"What a fool you are," a voice behind him said. "Open your eyes, and perhaps you'll see what you've been meant to see all along."

The water faded. Franc blinked as he found himself in a crystal chamber, staring around. His clothes were sopping wet as he stared up, blinking at what he saw ahead of him.

A white marble throne was in the center of the room. At the top sat a beautiful woman wearing long blue robes. Her skin was pale brown, and she had long silver hair that rested on her lap. Her eyes, a startling blue color, pierced through Franc as he stared up.

"Franc du Maurier," she said in a shockingly raspy voice. "Open your eyes and see what is around you."

Franc turned, and he saw nothing. Nothing but dazzling white walls, entombing him and making him even more helpless than he already was.

However he'd imagined his visit to the guardian fairy of Dreamix, this was not it. He'd imagined her as a wise, helpful lady, not one who treated him like a scolded child. Try as he might, he could not understand the hidden meaning in her words, the apparent wisdom she was trying to impart.

"I don't see anything," he said.

"Don't you?" The woman snorted. "Open your eyes. You've blinded yourself to the truth for so long; only you can lead yourself to the light."

Franc glared at her. "What are you talking about, woman?" He had no patience for such riddles. "Just tell me where my daughter is!"

"You haven't opened your mind to the truth," the woman said coolly. "You wallow in self-pity and grief, which is how you have been for the past year. And you refuse to understand your role, or lack of one, in what has happened to Angéle."

Franc's blood boiled. How dare this woman give me a lecture? He'd lost his wife and daughter, leaving him with no one. They had been his only life, his only love. And yet, everyone was telling him to live his life as if nothing had happened at all.

"This is exactly what I'm talking about," the woman said, and he jumped. "You still wallow in your own misery. Unproductive and, quite frankly, untrue."

Just what I need – one of those mind-readers. "What happened to my daughter? I need to know!"

"Really?" the woman said, her eyes narrowing. "You seem adept to not listening to the truth. Do you really need to know?"

Franc glared at her, and uttered one word. "Yes."

"Very well then." The woman closed her eyes. "I, Desirée du Miroirs, impart on thee the knowledge of what thy daughter hath done, and the choices she made by herself!"

A swirling vortex enveloped him. Franc gasped as he was sucked in, everything going black.

Aria woke up, feeling as if something was wrong. She felt as if a million spiders were crawling on her stomach. Someone unwelcome was here, threatening her security and her night. She opened her eyes and saw what it was.

Someone was inside her room.

Aria let out a scream. Who is that? She could barely stop from shaking, and trembled horribly. The person glanced at her disdainfully.

"Be quiet." She rested a perfectly manicured fingernail on her chin, as always. It was then that Aria realized who it was.

Isolde was glaring at her. Her black dress was falling in folds over Aria, like a blanket that was spread out the wrong way.

Aria stared at her. What does she want? What could she possibly be here for?

Isolde leered. "We're going on another mission."

Oh, no. Aria let out a gasp. Isolde was going to help her with her revenge. A revenge she wasn't sure she even wanted anymore. She drew away from Isolde, her eyes wide with fear.

"What?" Isolde looked annoyed. "You want your revenge, do you?"

"I" – Aria gasped. How could she say she had a change of heart, especially when they were so far into this?

"I've been building up your power," Isolde responded. "Day by day, we've been going out and making you stronger." She put on a false, sickly-sweet smile. "But what's the matter, my sweet? Is there a problem?"

"No," Aria choked out.

"Then good," Isolde responded. "Let us go."

She could feel Isolde watching her carefully, frowning as she took her by the arm and pulled her out of the bed. But other than that, she didn't say anything. She simply pulled her along and transported them out of the castle. The world faded to dark, and then soon came out to light.

Aria blinked as she stared around. She could tell they hadn't left Glacia; the realm was still bleak with the winter night. But the air had a slightly different quality to it here, and bit her a little less. She stared at what lay ahead of her.

It was an ancient fortress, covered in snow. What had once probably (flip once and probably) been a glamorous palace was now a desolate, icy edifice, abandoned in torrents of ice and snow. It was larger than anything she'd seen, certainly larger than Isolde's castle. And yet, it was unable to evoke any feelings of awe or amazement.

"Here we are," Isolde said. She was wearing her fairy outfit, her sparkling blue gown and crystalline wings. "The castle of the Glacian monarchy. It was built in the Age of Discovery, Year 5678, when, upon acquiring Nunangat as part of the Glacian Empire, King Sweyn declared that he deserved a palace worthy for an emperor. This has been the palace ever since. At least, until now." She let out a contemptuous snort.

Aria stared at Isolde. "The ice castle isn't the original?"

"Of course not!" Isolde snorted. "Do you think any of my predecessors would've had the strength to maintain such a figure? It has been mine from the start." She glared at the castle. "Well, let us go in, then."

She clicked her fingers. The rusty old doors opened, and she flew in. Aria transformed and flew after her, staring at the place around her.

It was nowhere near as dark and eerie as Isolde's castle. If anything, the blue and white colors of the décor made the castle seem lively, even though it clearly hadn't been inhabited for a good many years now; there were cracks on the floor and on the walls.

"Let's go in," Isolde hissed at her, opening another door.

They were now in the throne room. At the end of the hall was a once-majestic throne, adorned with cobwebs. Aria stared around, taking in the icy chandelier at the ceiling, the dark blue carpet leading up to the throne, and the paintings on the side.

Each painting had a portrait of a ruling monarch. Aria stared at the painting on the right end, closest to the throne. A woman wearing blue silk was pictured in the portrait. Her dark blue eyes shone glamorously, and her dark blond hair was done up and fell down behind her back. She wore elaborate jewelry, and the ruling crown that sat upon her head seemed to fit her perfectly, as if it had been made for her.

Leena Aki von Glacia, the plaque read. Year 940-present.

So she was the last monarch to rule here! Aria realized. Whenever this castle had been in use, she had ruled here. And Isolde came after her. She stared at the painting. Who was she in relation to Isolde, though –

"I see you're admiring my darling sister," Isolde's voice came from behind her.

Aria whirled around, but Isolde wasn't looking at her. She was staring at the painting, her eyes flickering with undeniable jealousy as she gazed.

"My sister," she said, her voice colder than Aria had ever heard it. "The most beloved of all. Loved by my parents, while I was ignored and hated. Forever doted upon and praised, while I was cast to the side. She was the People's Queen, the one whom everyone loved." She let out a bitter laugh. "And of course, you are already smitten with her."

"I" – Aria started, taken aback. What is she talking about?

"You think she's beautiful," Isolde continued on. "You think she's better than me." She glared at Aria. "You think she'd be a better queen."

"I never said that," Aria said, now utterly confused.

"Well, I am queen now," Isolde said. "And there shall be no questioning, now that you've seen her." She glared at Aria. "So stop looking at her. I need you for a job, anyways."

What does she need me for? Aria watched as Isolde flew towards the center of the hall. She perched herself atop the blue throne, and looked up, her eyes wide.

"I want you to lend your power to me," she said. "You have tremendous powers, powers of righteousness and rage and ruin. So, lend them to me. Make me the greatest queen of all time!"

What? Aria's head felt woozy. How do I do that? She stared blankly at Isolde.

"Do you need some coaxing?" Isolde asked, in her false, sickly-sweet voice. "Very well, then. Do you remember a time when you were denied something that you deserved?"

Aria squeezed her eyes shut. I don't want to remember, I don't want to remember, I don't want to remember…

"You will remember!" Isolde roared. "Don't you remember? The day they cast Queen of Snow?"

Stop, thought Aria frantically. But she remembered all too well. She forced her eyes shut even further, willing to forget what had happened that fateful day.

They were going to perform Queen of Snow in the Magix Opera Program. It was a show about a snow princess and her lover, and how they faced their enemies. Aria had practiced and practiced for the part. She had spent hours on the music, throwing her Alfea coursework aside and working tirelessly to learn the part…

… And then Galatea had gotten the role.

Aria could remember all too clearly. How she'd stormed out of the theater in a rage, at the end of the day. How angry she and her supporters had been, but how they'd done nothing, for fear that Galatea would go home and tell her all-powerful daddy, who'd put a stop to their power.

Aria remembered this memory not with anger, but with shame. She'd deserved the role far over Galatea, of course, but that didn't justify her murder a few months later. I did that to Galatea all because of this… She lowered her head in sadness.

Isolde looked towards her, her eyes narrowed. "I am sensing some shame from you."

Aria looked up nervously. "Yes," she said at last, "I am ashamed."

"Well, you should be," Isolde snarled, "because you were a coward. You should've given Galatea what she deserved – you should've belittled her, punished her, and forced her to back down! Then you would've gotten the role! Don't you see, Aria? You are a coward! A dreadful, frightful coward!"

She's right, Aria realized. I should've done that. She lowered her head. But I still shouldn't have killed her. I – this is just so messed up. She stared bleakly at the throne, her mind a jumble of thoughts.

"Think!" Isolde screeched. "Think about how angry she made you! Then conjure up that feeling! Force her to pay!"

Aria stared at her. I can't do that. She still felt resentment bubbling within her, even after all that had happened, but instead of embracing it, she was terrified. I've already made her pay. What should I do?

"Aria." Isolde's eyes were narrowed with irritation. "If you do not burrow deep into your potential and use your resentment in a way that is useful, you will forever carry it around, and it shall immolate you! So use it! Use it to give Galatea something that she deserves! Now give me your power!"

I have to, Aria realized. I have to, if I want any chance at happiness. Now that I know no one will love me. She closed her eyes and focused on her rage.

She could see Galatea's delighted gaze as she swept on stage, wearing a snowy white dress, adorned with pearls, that swept the floor. Her hair had been done up, and she'd worn a brilliant white crown on her head. And her singing had been so pure and powerful, it'd clenched Aria's insides until there was nothing left. I would've acted that role much better. She summoned her power and let it all out.

She could feel Isolde gathering her rage into her hands, and sending it into the throne. The room exploded with energy, and Aria kept her eyes closed as she continued to feed energy into Isolde's throne.

She could hear Isolde shout, "O Mighty Kings of Glacia! Thou hast wronged me, in more ways than thou knowest of! Give me my power that I have so rightly earned, power of thy deep coldness and burial!"

There was a silence. And then the throne exploded. Aria could take it no longer; she opened her eyes.

She watched as swirls of cerulean and cornflower and periwinkle burst into Isolde's chest, making her rise with power and delight. She sat, letting out a maniacal laugh as she absorbed all of the throne's power, every single last drop.

Aria watched in fascination. This is the power she gets. It suited her, all of the energy that was stored inside of the throne. The temperature in the room seemed to have risen by ten degrees; the energy was abuzz and warming the once-cold room.

Isolde smiled and flew down, walking next to Aria. She placed her fingernail on Aria's shoulder.

"Feel my energy," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "Feel it. See how powerful I am."

Aria felt it. She felt the incredible power Isolde harnessed within herself, her magical arms. Not for nothing is she a sorceress. Isolde smiled.

"At last I have it." She sounded giddy, filled with excitement. "The power that was denied to me for so long is now mine. But we are far from done with this place." She flew towards the exit, and motioned towards the library. "Let us head to the library."

Aria followed her, her mind filled with questions. All she could think of was, now that Isolde has her power, what is she going to do with it?

The crater loomed ahead of them, a fierce, sulfurous opening of heat and power. Darius winced at the overpowering sensations that came over him. We really don't want to mess with that crater…

Darius had been woken roughly by one of the boys – Séan, his name was? – for breakfast. Apparently they all got up at 5:30 around here. Tired, he'd followed him to the dining table, where Maire's mother had prepared a splendid breakfast of eggs, fresh milk and cheese, and a variety of Summian fish and fruits that Darius couldn't recognize. The eggs came straight from their hens and the milk came straight from the cows. Apparently, Maire had milked the cow herself that morning and brought the pail to her mother for breakfast.

Darius was used to good food. He lived in a palace, after all. But this food was delicious, in its own way – it was much fresher than anything he'd ever eaten. It was all home-cooked, the meats all hunted, the milk all harvested, and the fruits all plucked from the gardens and wild bushes. This was the way to live, amongst nature, in a community where all were in tune with the world around them. He could tell that Maire, for all of her complaints, enjoyed it too.

They had headed out of Maire's house, but were soon met with problems. Apparently word had gotten out that Maire had brought home a prince, and the village boys were running around, pestering him and challenging him to a fight. Darius wasn't going to do it, as he knew that not only would he easily beat them, but also cause internal damage. But they enraged Maire, and she yelled at them various different Summian swears that Darius couldn't understand.

Fortunately, none of the village parents had taken the rumors too seriously, or else there would have been real trouble. They managed to find a ferry to Aislinn Island, which was a smaller, older version of Bláthnaid. Then, they had hiked up the mountain to reach the top, which was where they were now. From where he was standing, Darius turned around and gazed around the mountain.

Five other islands were located on the sea, a sea that snaked through the lands. Beyond the channel, he could make out four different worlds. To their east, illuminated by the rising sun, was the land of Caeli, a lush moor with many mountains that peaked high into the clouds. The green land was abundant, and he was sure that it received plenty of rain.

To their south was the land of Ignis, a red sandstone desert that took Darius's breath away. The orange hue of the rocks was simply stunning, captivating his attention. The only vegetation was cacti, though he could make out some wheat farms on the land.

To their west was the land of Aqua, a deciduous marshland. It was filled with abundant streams and autumn trees. The collection of red, orange, and yellow leaves, all of which dotted the ground and fell into the streams, was breathtaking.

And finally, to their north was the land of Terra, a set of coniferous forests that stretched as far as the eye could see. Snow covered the boughs and the ground, white and pristine.

"I guess we go in," Maire said, pointing into the entrance of the volcano. Darius glanced over at her. She was wearing a camouflage T-shirt and shorts, and her flaming red hair was in a ponytail. She looked… nervous. Darius had never seen her to be apprehensive before.

Now that he thought about it, she'd changed in the past day or so. Since arriving to her home land, she seemed more eager and excited, more adventurous and cheerful. It was a different, more childlike side of Maire than he'd ever seen before.

"What are we waiting for?" he asked shortly. "Let's go."

Maire stared down into the cave. "I have a bad feeling about this," she whispered. "This test is clearly something not good."

"What?" Irritation rose in Darius's heart. "We've come this far, and this is how you act? You don't want us to go into the volcano because of some voodoo intuition? This is stupid. Come on, let's go." He began to walk towards the crater.

Hold it, warrior.

Darius halted abruptly, hearing a woman's voice in his head. He heard Maire's gasp behind him, and knew that she'd heard the same line.

Your friend's instincts are true. This is a dangerous place for people of your kind. She has reason to worry – especially as neither of you seem to be up for the task.

Darius clenched his fists. "What do you mean we're not up for the task?"

You both are dishonest. Whenever there is a mirror, you look the other way almost immediately, refusing to see the figure inside – a figure that has both merits and flaws. The truth is so clear, yet you go out of your way to avoid it. There is only one name for a person who avoids the truth, and that is a coward.

"We need the elements!" shouted Darius. "I don't care what you say! You are not going to stop us from this quest! We are going to save Aria, and there's nothing you can do about it" –

I didn't say I was stopping you, the voice answered. This is merely a precaution. You enter at your own risk. Once you enter, there is no turning back. Either you make it to the end or you get tangled in your own web of lies. There is no other option. Are we clear?

Maire turned towards Darius, her eyes wide. "Are you sure we should" –

"We're going," Darius answered roughly. He glared into the volcano. "Yes, we're clear."

There was a silence, and then the voice spoke. Leap into the volcano.

"What?" he asked, taken aback.

"Did he seriously just say that?" Maire gasped.

I mean it, the voice answered. You will leap into this volcano. Understand that this is the first stage of this test. If you want the truth, you are going to have to chance death and enter the Labyrinth of Lies. That is the only way. The moment you leap, all transformations and flying saucers will be voided.

Darius sighed. "All right then." He held out his hand to Maire. She hesitated, and then joined hands. Her white, freckled hand stood out against his tan one, and for a moment, he stared at it in admiration.

"Ready?" Maire's harried voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Yes," said Darius, ignoring the panicked feeling that was entrenching in his throat. "Three… two… one"…

He leapt into the air, pulling Maire alongside him. They gasped and screamed as they fell into the never-ending pit, with nothing but darkness and heat in their path.

"Just down there, the beach is there – look!" Daewon pointed down the path.

He saw Arishtat's eyes widen with amazement as he stared at the beach. Daewon grinned, pleased to see Arishtat's excitement.

The Sea of Calliope was purple. It was a light lilac color near the shore, but then deepened to dark violet towards the horizon. Bright orange sand layered the ground, a beautiful, shimmering dusting that condensed around Daewon's feet as he sunk them in. He stared at it in awe, the beauty of his homeland.

"It's time to go," he said, finally breaking the silence.

The two young men stripped to their swimwear. When Daewon saw Arishtat pulling off his shirt, he noted the well-muscled body underneath, the broad shoulders and muscled arms. He looked away, embarrassed.

Something had struck him, after his session with Atete. He remembered telling her that Aria was bisexual, how she was attracted to both boys and girls. Now, he was beginning to wonder if he felt the same way. If his sexual orientation was just as conflicted.

A year or so ago, when he was about fifteen years of age, he used to wonder about kissing a boy, how good it would feel. At the time, he'd dismissed it, simply because he knew that many boys went through such fantasies pre-puberty. And there was no way he could be one of those boys. Gays were always brutally bullied in school, especially in MOA, where it was common for teachers to look the other way. A boy in the year above him had come out, and it had been a total disaster – he had been continually hexed in the corridor. And when it was discovered that Cixi had kissed Aria, she'd been ostracized brutally, scorned by students and permanently branded with a black label. Daewon had closed his eyes and thanked the Muses he wasn't one of them.

And anyways, he'd dated Aria, one of the most beautiful girls he'd ever met. He'd assumed that he only liked girls, not boys.

But now, ever since meeting Arishtat, he'd begun to wonder if his feelings went beyond a platonic friendship. Arishtat was reserved, the opposite of Daewon's outgoing personality. And yet, he had a certain charm to him, one that made him shine.

"We ought to enter the water," Arishtat answered. "Daewon, could you please cast that air-bubble spell?"

"Right. Sorry," said Daewon, embarrassed. He pointed his hand and closed his eyes.

A bubble appeared around each of their heads. It was hard to cast, and Daewon had to keep his eyes closed and concentrate fully until the bubble was formed, drawing oxygen from the air around him. It fully formed, and then he opened his eyes.

"Let's go," he said, breaking into a run and diving into the water.

He could hear Arishtat behind him, running into the water. The coolness felt refreshing after the hot, dry heat. He looked over at Arishtat and saw that he was grinning as well.

"All right," he said. "Where should we go?"

Daewon had brought a map with him, and had cast a spell on it, so that it wouldn't get wet. Standing in shoulder-deep water, he took the map out and opened it up.

"We need to go east," he said, fishing for his compass. It pointed to the east, the almost direct opposite of the sun. The compass illuminated an orange line across the waters, one that they would follow. Daewon tied the compass to his swim-shirt and nodded.

"Ready to go," he said.

The two swam. The convenient thing about the orange line was that it would always be fifty meters in front of them, since it was tied to Daewon's shirt. Even though Daewon was swimming on his stomach, the compass would always point east, no matter what position he was in. But unfortunately, this didn't solve his problems.

After a few minutes of swimming, Daewon was already exhausted. His breath was coming in haggard, raspy gasps. He never kept in shape, and was crying for breath as he stared down at the ten meters or so of depth under him. Even with the bubble around his head, he still could barely breathe. Why didn't we get a transport?

"Are you all right?" Arishtat swam to him. With a slight pang of envy, Daewon saw that Arishtat was not at all tired. The well-muscled warrior fished inside of his pockets, and found – to Daewon's astonishment – a magirope. He looped it around his waist, and gave Daewon the other end to hold onto. Pinning Daewon's compass onto his end of the rope, he said simply, "Now just hold on."

Daewon stared at him. "How did you know I was tired?" he gasped.

"It was obvious," Arishtat answered. "You were panting, and barely able to keep up. I do not want you to have to suffer."

"But you'll have to pull me," gasped Daewon.

Arishtat smiled. "I don't mind," he answered. "In fact, I'd be happy to."

Daewon's mind was reeling. This was the first time Arishtat had said something that wasn't along the lines of "this is my duty". He wasn't pulling Daewon because he felt he needed to; it was because he wanted to. He smiled. "Okay, then," he said.

After that, it was so much easier. Daewon relaxed his limbs, allowing Arishtat to pull him along as he stared down at the beautiful sea, filled with sea creatures and floral plants. It took his breath away as he stared at the wonder of the ocean, how stunning it was.

I wouldn't mind being a merman around now, he thought lazily, enjoying the shimmering beauty of the water. This is so much more exciting than life on land.

He frowned as he sensed something ahead of him. A current was strongly pulling them east, something they'd have to fight against. Something's not right. In fact, when he looked down, all of the fish were scurrying in the opposite direction as them. What's ahead?

"There's a whirlpool ahead," said Arishtat, looking worried. "I'm going to have to take you around it. Just hold on" –

Daewon gasped as the current suddenly pulled him forward, past Arishtat. He let out a scream as it sucked him in, without recourse. The rope broke, and Daewon was soon left frantically trying to pull himself out, with no escape.

"Daewon!" shouted Arishtat, swimming after him. "I'm coming!"

But even Arishtat was no match against the whirlpool. Daewon squeezed his eyes shut as he was flung around, the funnel of the water making him dizzy. The funnel closed, and he felt himself hitting the rocky bottom, with nothing and no one to save him.

And then there was darkness.

The room reappeared. Franc stared around in confusion, staring at the cave. Why am I in the same room? Then he saw Angéle in front of him, and all his breath was knocked out.

She was kneeling in front of Desirée, her eyes closed. She was in her Enchantix transformation, the one she had received so prematurely that it'd brought suspicion to his mind. What's happening… He stared at the priestess, at a loss for words.

"What you are about to do is very dangerous," Desirée said. "You are very young, Angéle. Fairies centuries older than you have failed."

"I know." Angéle lifted her chin. "But I have to something, Prophetess. If I sit around any longer, I will go mad."

Wait, what's she doing? Franc stared at her. Angéle, why are you doing this? He tried to scream at her, but found that his lips were sealed.

"But I want to know why," Desirée said. "It interests me that you, of all people, are going to partake on such a mission, one that will change your life forever. Once you decide to embark on this Quest, your decision is irreversible."

"I've weighed my options," said Angéle, and Franc was stunned at the boldness in her voice, a tone she never exhibited in front of him. "But so much wrong is happening in the world. I'm doing this precisely because I'm young – because the older people have tried to fix the problems, and have failed."

Then don't be the one to try and fix it! Franc wanted to scream. Let someone else take the fire! You can't save the world!

"In the past five years, I've seen everything around me collapse," Angéle said. "My mother's death has made my father a shell of his former self; he's turned to rage to quell his pain. We never even talk about my mother anymore."

Something constricting rose in Franc's throat, threatening to claw his neck out. She – she thinks like that about me? He stared at Angéle in shock.

"I need to gain Dreamix," Angéle continued on. "Prophetess Desirée, you've been my mentor for the past two years – you know me better than anyone else. So please, please let me reach this transformation. You know how much I need it."

So Angéle did study with someone else, against my wishes. Franc's chest began to heave. This woman, she knew my own daughter better than I did. He stared at Angéle, at a loss for words.

I made my daughter do this, he realized. She did this because of me, not because of anyone else. It was my fault she attempted this suicide mission –

"Very well, then," Desirée said, not unlike the way she'd just said so to Franc. A golden hourglass with pink sand appeared in her hands. As she held it, murmuring incantations, the hourglass began to glow. Without warning, a bolt of light shot out of it and zoomed into Angéle's chest.

Franc watched in horror as his daughter was lifted into the air. A strange, tingly feeling began to spread across her entire body as the pink glow shined all around her. He saw her turning in the air, the pink power taking her essence as she fell to the ground…

"Noooo!"

For a moment, Franc didn't even realize it was his own voice crying. His head was on the floor, eyes pressed against the steric white marble. He stared up, and saw Desirée's harsh face in front of him, her eyes narrow and uncompromised.

"That is what happened," she said. "You can take the truth as it is, or you can give it up. That is entirely your choice, and your choice alone."

Franc glared at her. Nothing but hatred filled his body from head to top, and he snarled. "Let me go!"

"Excuse me?" Desirée asked coldly.

"I don't want to stay in these walls any longer!" he shouted. "Let me out! I'm not staying here!"

"That is your decision," Desirée answered, and then she sent a funnel at him. He screamed as everything went dark, and then he appeared, lying outside of her cave.

His head ached as he felt the clouds on his back. Once he'd thought them warm and fluffy, a kindness nature had bestowed upon them. Now he only saw them as a false propagation of reality. They were a lie, just as wrong as everything he'd done as a father.

I've failed… He closed his eyes, resting on the clouds as coldness seeped into him, an icy chill that would forever taint his heart. He didn't feel anything as he collapsed, the world washing over in black.

The walls became narrower as they walked down the dark, dusty corridor. Aria coughed as they walked further.

"Be quiet," ordered Isolde. She opened a door, one which had the rustiest hinges Aria had ever heard. She drew back as Isolde opened it, and motioned for her to go in. Aria walked in and gasped.

It was as if she had stepped through a portal that had sucked her right back to Isolde's castle. Every inch of the room was icy blue. Pointed chandeliers, poised like icicles, hovered threateningly above their heads. She stared around the room in wonder, taking it in.

The walls were circular. Bookshelves were all along the walls, filled to the brim. There were tables towards the center of the room, and a circular shaft above their heads. Aria could make out some light coming in through the top, the only solace in this menacing, cold world.

"These are the Glacian Archives," Isolde said. "The only room in this miserable excuse for a palace that belongs to me." She let out a snort. "I spent a lot of time re-decorating this place, until I realized a new castle would suit me better anyhow. I was unable to move all of the sacred archives – at least, not until now."

"What do you mean?" Aria asked, staring at her.

Isolde smiled, a twisted, cold smile. "We're going to preserve this room and make sure it doesn't get blown up along with everything else."

"Preserve this room?" Aria stared at her blankly. Why would we need to preserve this room? And why would anything else get blown up?

"Yes," Isolde laughed. "There is nothing I want here, except for a few scrolls. The rest of Glacian history can burn in hell for all I care. But I am not a fool. Destroying knowledge is very dangerous, even unappealing knowledge. I will take care to keep the things I want with me, and then we shall commence." She nodded at Aria, her eyes like daggers. "Stay here until I come back."

Okay, thought Aria as Isolde sauntered away, disappearing behind a bookshelf in the center of the room. She had no desire to leave this place. It was so eerie and beautiful, and enthralling in its own menacing, terrifying way. She walked towards the shelf, her eyes wandering over the hundreds of books.

Her eyes caught the spine of one book. Confused, she pulled it out. It was a blue book, a shade very similar to that of the room's décor. It was dated to Year 945 of the Age of Unity. She opened it, flipping through and staring.

There were no words she could understand. All of them were written in Glacian, though from the diagrams and the year numbers, she could tell it was a genealogy book. Smiling monarchs and princesses stared back at her, wearing their most elaborate gowns and jewels. She turned towards the end of the book and gazed down.

She started. The face that stared back at her looked exactly like a younger version of Queen Isolde. She was wearing a frigid blue silk dress that looked like it was made of winter itself. An elaborate crown of ice crystals sat atop her head. Even in her monarch portrait, she looked cruel; her eyes were dark and her smile was too narrow to be genuine. Pictured above her was a woman with a softer face, wearing pink regal robes and the same crown.

That's her sister! Aria realized. The one she was talking about! She stared at the page.

She could make out Isolde's parents, an austere-looking couple photographed above them. And then she stared at the man right across from Isolde. It was a Whisperian-looking man, one with a deviously handsome face. In the family tree, his picture and Isolde's were connected in a bracket, which could mean only one thing…

Aria stared at the page in shock. She was married at some point! Isolde had married a Whisperian man, and they had been together! They must have lived together, right in this very castle!

But why were there no children? Surely Isolde must've borne children; after all, it was expected for a monarch to eventually have children to carry on the throne. Had she and her husband never had children? Or had this book been dated before their children had been born?

I don't understand. Aria stared at the book. Did her husband die? What happened to him? Where could he have gone?

"Girl!"

Aria quickly thrust the book into the shelf, her heart hammering. She could hear someone walking towards her and quickly turned around. Relief coursed through her as Isolde emerged in front of the bookshelf, and she bowed her head. She didn't see me… Isolde was watching her, a smirk on her face.

"I got the books," she announced. "Now let us go. I have a job for you." She pointed up towards the shaft, and flew up into it.

Confused, Aria followed her. They flew up into the night sky, and Aria followed Isolde until she reached the highest peak of the fortress.

"Here we are," Isolde said, a twisted smile appearing on her face. "Now look."

Aria stared down. She saw the castle in front of her, a dead, tired excuse for a structure. She shivered. "What am I doing?"

"Haven't you figured it out?" Isolde smirked. "You're destroying the castle."

Aria gasped. "I'm doing what?"

Isolde's eyes blazed as she answered. "How can you expect to get out your anger properly if you can't even destroy an edifice? Come on." She thrust something into Aria's hands, and Aria stared at it.

It was an Axe, bold and dangerous. It glinted maliciously as she turned it over in her hands. She stared down at the castle, wondering, what the heck does she want me to do with this?

"Think of a time when you were betrayed," Isolde continued on. "A time when someone promised you something, which you were ultimately refused. A time when you got something you didn't deserve. Think, Aria, and let out your rage for once and for all!" She let out a cackle.

Aria could remember very clearly. She cried out, remembering the horror she had gone through when she had been a child. She could feel the pain twisting her, tormenting her until she was no more.

She could still remember Daewon's hands on her shirt, the way he pulled her up the stairs. Shame overtook her as she remembered how easily she would've been able to resist, and how she'd done nothing to stop her life from being trampled on. How, in just a few minutes, her entire life had gone down the drain. How no one had wanted to speak to her ever again. How no one, after this all was over, would ever want to speak to her again –

"No!" Aria cried out, and struck. She swung the Axe wildly, and the power bounced from it, slamming into the fortress. I will not let it destroy me! She let all of her energy out, screaming as she attacked the fortress in frantic, frenzy swings.

The turrets fell. Glass exploded everywhere, and Aria winced. She felt Isolde putting a shield around her as she heaved and panted, gasping. How will I ever destroy this thing?

"You're not done!" Isolde yelled. "Think of Daewon! Think of the monster he is!"

The words he'd said to her outside of her dorm room, how he'd threatened to tell the Opera House about her past "crimes", enraged her even further. This isn't happening. I'm not letting anyone do this to me. She swung the Axe again, and the last tower fell.

Never again!

The tower hit the ground. The sound was deafening, rubble flying into the air and nearly hitting Aria where she stood.

Never again!

The roof capsized upon itself.

Never again!

The entire structure fell to the ground, completely demolished. Not a single cry could be heard as it fell, the sound final and resolute.

And then there was silence. The worst kind of silence, the kind that only came after the onset of death. Aria stared at it, taking in what she had just seen and done.

She saw the structure fall, burying anything that had been underneath by its suffocating weight. This… this seems so familiar. The destruction she had just caused, destruction of a monument, was unchangeable and irrevocable. I've done this before. She thought of two people, their bodies buried under the weight of destruction.

And then, she fainted. Her wings failed her, and she reverted back to civilian form, falling far, far down towards the ground. Blackness overcame her, before she could even hit the ground.

She didn't hear Isolde's screech, or feel her net that cushioned her in the air, preventing her from falling to the ground. All she knew was that, no matter what she did, she would never be whole.

Maire remembered the day she'd transformed for the first time. It had been the summer before she'd enrolled in Alfea, and she'd been taking down the school bully. After hearing word that the bully and her gang were threatening to jump her, she'd run up to the roof, only to be tailed by the gang. She remembered fighting them with all of the self-defense skills she'd learned, but it had been five-to-one, and ultimately, she was pushed off the roof. The ground was appearing closer and closer and closer, and she'd squeezed her eyes shut…

And then she'd hovered in midair and transformed. Seeing her beautiful emerald-green outfit for the first time, she gasped with delight, and then flew back up onto the roof to strike back at the bullies. They'd scattered in terror, and had never bothered her – or anyone else – ever again. She remembered how triumphant she'd felt, how proud her mother and brothers had been of her, how she felt she could conquer anything.

This feeling was the exact opposite.

Maire clung onto Darius tightly as they hurtled down; she felt him holding onto her, too. The sensation was dizzying and nauseating and horrifying. It was more terrifying than the time she'd faced Tritannus's minions at Alfea and more excruciating than her broken leg had been just about a week ago.

The sulfur burned its way into her nose. It made her breathless, her eyes water, her mouth open in a soundless scream that reverberated all around the walls in terror. She closed her eyes and prayed, please let this stop, please let this stop, please let this stop…

And just as quickly as it'd started, it stopped.

Maire felt something slow down. Her fall had broken, and she was being gently lowered down, in the air. A brilliant white light surrounded all of them. She stared down in surprise.

The sulfur had vanished. Below them was a beautiful cathedral, one with lakes of fire and lava. The vibrant hues of the red took Maire's breath away. It was all so beautiful, in an ethereal way.

"What is that?" Darius asked in her ear.

"I don't know," Maire murmured. Darius was close, so close. He was against her skin, just like she'd always wanted. It's almost like he's holding me…

She looked up, trying to gaze into his eyes. Instead, she found her nose brushing by his shirt. What… where… It was then that she realized that he was holding her, and she holding him.

She instinctively drew back, embarrassed. Darius drew back for a moment, too. They stared awkwardly at each other, not quite meeting each other's gaze. Maire's cheeks flamed, and she turned her gaze down.

You have made it, the voice said. Now is when the test truly begins.

"What do you mean?" Darius asked, his mind thankfully from the subject of what had just happened.

You have many more obstacles to cross. This was not even the beginning. In order to make it out of here, you have to get through the Labyrinth alive.

"What"… Maire shuddered. How dangerous was this place? Now that she thought about it, there were probably dragons and sprites around here, all eager to end their mission. Are we going to be burned alive?

This is not a test of your physical strength. Rather, it is of your mental capacity. Your capacity to differentiate between truth and lies.

That's it? thought Maire, feeling relieved. That shouldn't be so hard. She shrugged. "Okay," she said. "Hit us up with it, then."

The white light vanished, and Maire felt herself plummeting. Oh, no… Fortunately, it wasn't too far, and so she landed with a satisfying thump. Darius landed next to her as well.

"So where to?" he asked, gazing down the hall.

Maire followed his gaze. Labyrinth walls had appeared around them, walls which she hadn't seen from above. There were two paths: one left, and one right. "I think we should take the left," she said.

"I think we should take the right," Darius answered.

Maire glared at him. "Then go right," she snapped. "I can figure this out."

"No, you can't," Darius answered. "We're supposed to stick together."

Maire rolled her eyes. "Since when did you care about us being all buddy-buddy? You haven't cared about that since last week, when you went psycho"…

"Shut up, Maire!" Darius snarled at her, and she recoiled back, a bit shocked by his tone. "All right. We'll go left, then." He led the way down the path, stomping his feet, his breath coming out in ragged gasps.

Okay, what's his problem? She stared after him. Why does he act like this all the time? Another thought struck her. And why do I even care about how he feels, anyways?

She shrugged and followed him. It didn't matter, not now, at least. The only thing that mattered was getting through this stupid maze. They walked silently for some time, each person in his or her own thoughts.

And then she heard it. It started out as a whisper, but then became more and more obnoxious as she walked by. "You're not good enough, you're not good enough, you're not good enough"…

Maire stopped immediately, letting out an involuntary whimper. Darius turned towards her, looking irritated. "What's the matter?" he demanded.

"Don't you hear it?" Maire wailed. She tried to cover her ears, but it was no use; if anything, the sound got louder and louder.

"You're useless," the voice taunted her. "You pine after your darling Darius, when no boy could ever love you. Aria is worth ten thousand of you – before she was kidnapped, she had a future ahead of her. You can't do anything right. Even your mother despises you – though she says otherwise."

That's not true! Maire screamed back. You're wrong!

"Oh, really?" the voice sneered back. "Why has it taken you so long to 'reconcile' with your mother? It's because she hates you for what you did. It's your fault that your father left your mom!"

Maire kicked off a boot and hurled it at the wall; it disappeared seamlessly into the golden barrier. What the heck was that… She tried run through the wall, but the impact of the crash forced her back, gasping.

"Maire!" Darius yelled at her. "For Tistyra's sake! Your boot's on the floor! What are you" –

But then he broke off, and Maire heard him gasp. He was silent for a moment, and then he shouted, "Stop it! Leave me alone!"

Maire opened her eyes. She was lying in a heap on the floor, her red hair tangled over her shoulders. Dimly above her, she could hear yelling.

"You're right, okay? It's my fault Sharzad died. IT'S MY FAULT!" He was sobbing, his voice cracking over his yells. "I don't deserve anything more than eternal guilt!"

Something started to creep out of the ground. Maire stared at it in fascinated horror, unable to move or even cry out. The creatures were heat-radiating iguanas, a black color that permeated into her soul and made her gasp in despair. They advanced upon her, their eyes menacing.

Maire crawled back into the wall, whimpering. "I'm sorry!" she cried out. But it was no use. A tail slapped against her face, and she crumpled on the floor. Her vision faded into darkness.

That was the last thing she remembered.

Aria sat in her room, her entire body caked with mud. Her punishment for failing the quest, apparently. Isolde had refused to give her a change of clothes, and she sat on her bed, her mind whirling.

A knock on the door. Angéle peered in, and opened the door. She gasped at Aria, taking her in. "W-what happened?" She came in and closed the door. "Did you and Her Iciness go out?"

Aria couldn't answer. She couldn't even remember what they'd done, or where they'd gone. Her mind was filled with questions, questions she knew she'd never be able to answer.

"Did – did you do what she told you to do?" Angéle's words were barely a whisper.

Aria stared at her. She remembered a sickening sensation in her stomach, a loud, unbearable crash in her ears, and then silence. Whatever I did, it was something bad. And it was because Isolde told me to. She nodded.

"Oh, Aria – you didn't!" Angéle cried out, her face stricken.

"What else did you expect?" Aria asked shakily. "H-how can I not do what she asks? She'll kill me if I don't do what she says! I'll kill me!"

"I would rather be dead than hurt someone I love," Angéle whispered. She lightly stroked Aria's cheek.

Aria pushed Angéle's hand away.

"That's where we're different," she said. "I care only about me. I do what it takes to survive, to keep myself afloat in the world. You – you're the most selfless person I've ever known. You'd die for the people you care about." She stared at Angéle. "But me – I'm not like that. I'm not and I never will be. And if Isolde's going to get me my righteousness, I'm not going to stop." She got up and walked towards the door.

She could hear Angéle calling after her, but simply ignored her as she walked out the room. Her head was lowered and her shoulders were stooped, and she stared down in shame.

Isolde's right. I am a coward. She continued walking forwards, her mind and heart swirling with emotions.

Just in more ways than one.

King Gabriel's golden chariot flew over the clouds. He sat on the red seat, the white horses propelling him forward as he stared in the sky.

He normally did not leave his castle. After all, he was a king, and kings had little leisure time, especially an unmarried one who didn't have a queen to help manage state affairs. But every now and then, he had to leave his sanctuary to get some fresh air, something that was hard to come by.

The UR Sovereigns' Council had ended two days ago. They had come to absolutely no resolution, and in the end, their only unanimous vote was to adjourn. Just the same way King Gabriel had suspected. The UR was a fairly useless organization, in his opinion; it rarely came up with real solutions that people could actually find common ground with.

He flew to the west, towards the setting sun. Darkness was descending over the heavens, and he saw house-lights going out. As priestly families were very frugal, they placed very strict rules upon themselves, as the "pure" caste of the land. One of them was to go to bed at sundown, and wake up at sunrise. They lived according to the law of the heavens' nature, with nothing but modesty in their actions.

Wish I had that luxury. Living in a lavish palace had its own constraints. As part of the warrior class, royals and nobles lived very extravagant lives. This also, however, meant that they were constantly surrounded by endless task-lists and tempted by riches; essentially, they lived very task-centered, materialistic lives.

He personally thought the priestly-elite had it the best. Although only two percent of the population, they dominated Rêve with their intelligence, the simple wisdom that came from living life in the moment. As people who renounced material possessions, they led lives happier than even the wealthiest king or the most victorious nobleman.

He was over the western edge of the heavens. The Equator of Rêve was where the heavens were located; they only took up a very small area of the planet's atmosphere. After all, ninety-eight percent of the people lived on land or underwater, so it didn't make sense for the heavenly sector to be particularly large. The heavens had an eastern edge, right above the island of Cieux, and a western edge, right above the Reflective Ocean; in total it spanned about only 80 kilometers, a mere fraction of Rêve's 1,281 km diameter. It took only a few days to walk from the east end to the west end, if one was in good walking condition.

And by chariot, it took only one hour.

"Lower," King Gabriel commanded André, his charioteer. The charioteer nodded, directing the white horses to lower towards the ground to reach a landing-point.

Ahead of him, the king saw Prophetess Desirée's cave. Her edifice is quite simple. As the guardian fairy of Dreamix, she was one of the most important figures in the heavens, second only to the High Priestess of the Rêvian Pantheon. Trinity had named Angéle du Maurier as her successor, but once her father had forbidden her from taking his wife's place, the clergy had been undecided about what to do. It had ended up declaring Prophetess Desirée as the interim High Priestess (nominally, at least), until Angéle came of age to exercise her responsibility.

The chariot landed at the Grotte du Miroirs. The king dismounted from his chariot, frowning.

Something was not right. He could detect something sinister in the very air, as if cruel fate had befallen. What is going on here? Drawing his sword, he moved forward, scouting the cave with wary eyes.

He walked to the backside, staring around. Ahead of him, he could see the top of the sun sinking into the Reflective Ocean. It was a beautiful sight, but it made King Gabriel feel uneasy, and he stared around.

And then he saw a figure. A man was lying on the ground, completely soaked with water as he moaned, a hood covering his face. The king immediately dropped his sword, running towards the man. I know who that is… He threw the hood back and gasped.

It was Franc du Maurier. The man was sick, and certainly in more ways than one. But unlike Arishtat, the man the king had uncovered three days ago, Franc was not even conscious. Whereas Arishtat had been sobbing with guilt, this man seemed resigned with it, reaching the limit of his own grief.

Amare… Gabriel stared at his late friend's husband, feeling sick and horrified. What has he done to himself? What happened? He whirled around and turned towards the chariot.

"Sir André, help me carry him!" he commanded him. "We must bring him back to the castle, with all haste! Come on!"

"Yes, Your Majesty!" André had already drawn the chariot closer, and with a hefty grunt, Gabriel picked the man up and placed him in the chariot.

We must get back home. André slapped the steeds with the reins, who, sensing the urgency, flew forward with all deliberate speed. They flew towards the east, where the sky had never looked darker.

Please, thought Gabriel hopelessly as he stared down at Franc's face, the dull and listless face he'd never associated with this man. I don't know what has happened, but you have to stay with us. He stared at him.

Help is on its way.

Darius woke up, his head aching. He was sprawled on his back, and his suit was rumpled. His head was whirring, and he could barely make out anything around him.

Where was he? What had happened?

Slowly, his eyes adjusted to the world around him. He was surrounded by iron bars. The room was narrow and moderately long, but a prison nonetheless. As his eyes adjusted, he caught sight of Maire lying in front of him.

Darius's heart lurched. Maire was sprawled facedown, her tangled hair falling everywhere. She was pale and unconscious. He reached over and grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking her violently awake. Her eyes blinked and she began to regain consciousness, murmuring, "What? What happened?"

"Get up," Darius insisted. "Get up and look!"

Gradually, Maire pulled herself to a sitting position. Blinking, she looked around. "What are we – where – oh!" A hand went to her mouth as she stared around her.

"We're here," Darius answered dully. "Just as he said we would be."

The same monsters that had attacked them were wandering around the perimeter of the iron bars. Their metallic eyes leered triumphantly at them, never losing sight of their prisoners.

Darius's heart nearly stopped as he remembered what the man had said, just before they'd jumped into the volcano: Either you make it to the end, or you get tangled in your own web of lies. And now, he had no doubt what the meaning was behind those words.

They were stuck here forever.

Wow, that was a mouthful! Now what do you think is going to happen next?

Next chapter:

- Sharzad learns more about Leif, Akna's adopted son.

- Aria and Angéle spend more time together.

- Arishtat comes across a new group of people.