Review response:

xeranii - Always a delight to receive a review from my most loyal reader/reviewer! Yes, I want Fayt to realise his idiocy too, but I need Maria to stick to his face for the purposes of plot and character development etc lol. I would imagine Nel would freak and place a ban on their proximity if that ever occurred, but she would support Roger's decisions out of love... even if it means dealing with a man she can't stand to even be within a 5m radius of. Side note: I have his pvc figures too! The kotobukiya one and his miniature, because that little scamp needs more love!

Resonance of Faith

by Darkinterval

Chapter 5: Divided We Fall

"I'm sorry, Aznor, but my decision stands: I cannot allow you to enlist Airyglyph's help in this suicide mission. I will not be part of this war!"

The silence that followed the king's proclamation was as uncomfortable as it was stubborn. All four sides had been at it for hours. Everyone had said their piece. Unfortunately, last evening's celebrations did little to diminish Arzei's conviction; but if time itself was a marker of perseverance, then that said a lot about the three rulers, because stubborn they all were.

Fayt drummed his fingers on the stone table as tension spiked. Next to him, Maria continued to wear a face of perfect calm like those politicians Fayt often saw on Earth's wide screen telecasts. Honestly, he had no idea how she managed to keep her face from falling as the disappointment and hours dragged on, but Maria was Quark's leader for a reason, right? Right. And she was an expert in intergalactic delegation and negotiation, right? Right. Then why was this so bloody difficult?

"Arzei, you must understand," Aznor started up again with a weary sigh. It had been over an hour after all. "As dangerous as it may be, these people… Leingod," he corrected, "Risked his life to save my son from a war instigated by your own hand. He could've walked away from our problems, but he didn't."

The king's temper flared at that accusation. "And you must understand," he countered harshly, "that I choose to speak not out of sentiment for a deed well-done, but for the good of my people." Arzei paused to give the prime minister and queen a loaded stare.

"The war was my mistake, one that I'm willing to bear and carry that cross to my grave. I failed to heed my Captain's warnings; instead, I punished him for speaking the truth and everyone paid the price for my ignorance and vanity… especially your son."

At his mention, Albel cracked open an eye in slight surprise, but immediately closed it to resume his doze against the wall. Bah, politics. If Arzei thought he could earn his forgiveness by acknowledging his transgression, then he was sorely mistaken.

"That is why…" Arzei took a deep breath and fixed Fayt with an apologetic stare. "That is why I cannot help you. You have my gratitude for exposing Vox as the bloodthirsty traitor he was, but what you're asking for, a mere distraction as you flee at the cost of my soldiers, at the cost of our people – that is something I'm unable to justify. Albel… Albel was right." He looked down at his hands and clasped them to steel his resolve.

"He asked what good would this conference bring, if not more fighting and bloodshed? But I was naive and hopeful, swayed by guilt and promise." At this, Arzei let out a humourless chuckle and shook his head. "Perhaps he would make a wiser king than I."

Fayt's chair screeched against unrelenting stone as he stood. "But, your majesty –"

"We're done here."

Arzei stood from his seat and turned to address his escort. "Let's go home."

Albel smirked. "As you wish."

But before Arzei could get far, a pale and delicate hand shot out to grasp his wrist, stilling his movements. A hush fell over the room, as all party members visibly stiffened at the discourteous display, awaiting the ensuing response with bated breath. If it were any other common folk or low-ranking official, they would have been swiftly dealt with for daring to lay a finger on Airyglyph's King. However, this was no ordinary person, and even Albel dared not raise his katana against them.

"I once knew a wise king, who said that to help an enemy is to make a friend, and to offer kindness without question or profit, makes one a ruler of their pride," said Romeria, her calm and resolute tenor ringing clear across the silent room. Her piercing red eyes met Arzei's troubled ones. "Those weren't foolish words then, and they aren't foolish words now."

He swallowed thickly. "Romeria…"

"My dear Arzei, Fayt and his friends are my guests; we are indebted to them, and to refuse them now after welcoming them would be improper, cruel and deceitful – more so, when they need our help." Romeria's fingers slid from the king's wrist to gently take his hand. "We have the capacity to help them. Please help them."

She raised her head so that they were staring deep into each other's eyes – Romeria's beseeching and Arzei's doubtful. "The first step to overcoming your mistakes is to acknowledge them; the second, is not to run away and hide, so that another would not happen in its place."

Arzei took pause and hesitated. A sea of wide, pleading eyes, hopeful yet uncertain, stared at him: the prime minister and his counsel; the queen and her escort; and the very foreigners in question. Maria had risen from her seat, Cliff and Mirage hovering over her like bodyguards; and Fayt… Fayt remained cautiously optimistic. This was the leader of a military superpower after all; Airyglyph didn't exactly leave a very good first impression on him. However, his rigid posture began to relax the moment the king's benevolent gaze fell upon him.

"Leingod," Arzei whispered.

Could it be?

"Leingod, I…"

Fayt's gaze followed Arzei's, as the latter momentarily looked down at his and Romeria's interlocked hands. Time slowed to a nauseating crawl. Fayt could feel his own heart hammering relentlessly in his throat. He dared not believe it.

Is the king really considering…?

But the moment was lost and he had been mistaken.

Arzei sighed and released the queen's hand, and Romeria watched it fall to her side in mounting dread and disappointment. The ministers' ears flopped dejectedly; Nel's expression fell; and Albel simply looked away. Fayt stared at Airyglyph's ruler in shock, but Arzei returned that look with a remorseful one of his own. How could he make them understand? This was not their fight to begin with.

"I'm sorry, Leingod, but I cannot–"

Suddenly, a violent tremor rocked the walls and high ceilings, rattling the foundation beneath their feet. Fayt stumbled forward from the force and quickly caught himself against the stone table, but another soul-shaking jerk of the massive fortress around them – more powerful than the last – soon had the Earthling sprawled on the floor with the others. Moreover, the deafening 'Boom!' that accompanied those quakes definitely did not sound good.

"What the hell… an earthquake? Really?" Cliff groaned as he struggled to stand. The ground tipped dangerously under his feet.

"But Elicoor II has no tectonic activity!" Fayt argued.

"Then explain this, genius!"

Fayt's mind raced; none of this could be possible, but the cracking stone walls, broken glass, fallen furniture and panicked shrieks around them said otherwise. A quick look at the ceiling indicated they did not have much time; the cracks grew longer, ran deeper, and even the walls looked like they were starting to cave in. Their surroundings tipped violently; windows became sky and walls became ground; and doors were hard to reach. Everything had gone all topsy-turvy. The whole scene reminded Fayt of a classic literature novel Sophia liked so much: Alice in Wonderland, or something to that extent. A broken stained-glass window revealed a world of confusion and noise. It was chaos outside: boats and other flying vessels zipped past, narrowly dodging falling buildings, debris, and crumbling islands that moved –

Wait a minute, moved?

An uneasy feeling gripped Fayt's heart like a vice. Surferio had no typical land to begin with and the last time he checked, none of the floating islands could actually move at all. In other words…

"The kingdom's sinking."

"Malroy!" Aznor yelled over the din. "Get the doors, hurry!"

The Fellpool acted quickly, swiftly bounding across the room and using his claws to scale the walls, until he was able to trigger a switch. An emergency passage sprang open and the prime minister wasted no time in barking his next orders.

"Get to the landing! We need to evacuate this building, now," Aznor commanded, before directing his gaze at a disoriented Nel and Albel standing protectively over their frightened charges. "Zelpher, Nox, get the king and queen to safety! We'll bring up the rear."

"Good God, Aznor! What in the world's going on?" Arzei demanded, as they ran through the dark, rumbling passageway. He had Romeria pressed protectively against his side, while Albel and Nel secured the path up ahead. "Is the Lost City falling? How is this happening?!"

"The Sacred Orb…" whispered Nerissa, deeply unsettled.

"The what?"

"The Sacred Orb," Elder Roland repeated, coughing from the dust and struggling to keep up. "It is the core of Surferio and the very heart of Gaitt. It is the waters that flow from the Lost City to Aquaria and Airyglyph through rivers and down mountain tops. It is the grain we feed from our crops and trees. It is the fish and animals that roam our lands and make this place home. It is our people, our ancestors, our history and future. It is the magic that flows through our veins. It is life itself."

"You mean that doohickey in the old castle spewing green stuff into the air?" asked Cliff incredulously.

"That's the one," replied Malroy, though he didn't take too kindly to the blonde's crude description of their most sacred and revered artefact. "And that 'green stuff' is what's keeping this city afloat and the rest of Gaitt alive, so I'd show a lil' more respect if I were ya!"

"Does it really hold that much power?" asked Fayt with a curious frown. Considering this planet's level of technological development, it was hard to believe something as trivial as an orb could contain the very mysteries of life itself.

"Indeed," Romeria spoke up suddenly and her profound knowledge took the ministers by surprise. "An old book excavated from under Arias centuries ago, titled 'The Sacred Orb's Blessing', elaborates on the powers of the Orb and its gifts to the old Kingdom of Aquor." She paused to recite the ancient text:

"Handed to the people of Aquor by Apris, the Sacred Orb houses great power and its true purpose is unknown. The waters that flow from the Sacred Orb mix with springs to become a river. The pure water drives away evil and nurture grain, fish, animals and all creatures. Without the blessing of these divine waters, Aquor and all its cities would have never flourished. As one of Aquor's three greatest treasures, the Sacred Orb, together with the Aqua Veil and Crimson Scourge, have the power to move the heavens and the earth."

The queen's words, although inspiring, left a deep, unsettling feeling in Maria's gut. The heart of this world, huh? Interesting. She took out her quad scanner and adjusted its sensitivity. Just as she suspected, the high energy readings matched the ones that she picked up on the surface right before they entered Surferio, but they were stronger this time and more erratic. Furthermore, its form kept shifting – that wasn't normal for any physical matter; after all, when these people said 'orb', the immediate conclusion one would make would be its concrete properties.

An object of immeasurable power with an inconclusive form of unknown origin; she could only think of one thing.

"It's an OPA."

Mirage gasped, "Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"What's an OPA?"

Maria looked up and found herself staring straight into piercing violet eyes that judged more than inquired. She had been so distracted with her findings, she failed to notice they had safely made it out of the Sacred Hall and onto the landing. Nel placed her hands on her hips and studied Quark's leader intently, as did the other Elicoorians.

"Well, what is it? If you've got more secrets to hide, don't start now."

Maria sighed through her nose. "It's what we call an out-of-place artifact, or OPA for short," she patiently explained, while pocketing her quad scanner. "OPAs are objects that are far too technologically-advanced for its planet of origin. Whether you believe this Sacred Orb of yours is a gift from the gods or otherwise, it still doesn't change the fact that its power is unfathomable."

An explosion sounded a few ways off and the force rocked the precarious piece of land they were on. Maria fought to stabilize herself and gritted her teeth. "I'm guessing someone moved it from its pedestal."

"And it has nothing to do with you fools, I presume?" Albel snarked. He was immediately interrupted by Fayt, who looked like he was doing everything in his power not beat the Glyphian's irritating face into the ground.

"Oh, sure. We knew all about the orb and its power and wanted it for ourselves, that's why we took it while we're still in the city!" Fayt snapped.

Albel rolled his eyes. "Sarcasm doesn't suit you, worm. Try not to strain yourself."

"Well, maybe if you if used some logic, I wouldn't have to resort to sarcasm," Fayt countered.

"Logic? That coming from a second-rate swordsman."

"Who beat you."

"That's enough!" Nel quickly inserted herself between the two men and pushed them apart before things could escalate. The two rivals continued to glare at each other over her head and she resisted a groan. Men.

"Now's not the time. We're sinking and if we don't figure out something soon, we're all going to–"

A gust of wind whooshed past, sending their robes and hair fluttering. A giant silhouette towered over the group: tall masts, taut shrouds, great white sails and all; but before anyone could comment on what a ship was doing all the way out here, someone whistled and a small brown head popped out over the rails.

"What're ya guys standin' around fer? The whole city's gonna go under!" Roger shouted over the roaring winds and crumbling earth.

The whole group gazed up at their unlikely saviour in a mixture of shock and relief; even Cliff looked happy to see him. Unfortunately, the same couldn't be said for the boy's own father.

"Roger, I thought I told you and your mother to go back to the village," Aznor boomed, though his fury could not quite mask his underlying fear. "This isn't like the isolation policy; you could be killed! Twice you've disobeyed me and twice you - "

"Saved yer life," Roger finished with an defiant stare. "Look, pops, we'll discuss my punishment later, ok? Right now, we gotta get everyone ta the surface. Some fishface morons infiltrated Castle Aquor and took out all our guards. The whole city's being evacuated." With a heave, he tossed down a rope ladder. "Here, climb on! The magic's fading and I don't know how much longer this ship will be able ta stay up!"

Aznor cursed under his breath, but knew better than to argue at a time like this.

"Fine, his and her majesty first."

Arzei helped lift Romeria up the ladder, before making the climb himself. Nel was next, followed shortly by Albel, and then the four ministers. However, when it got to Fayt's turn, the swordsman hesitated; and the moment his fingers touched the rough rope, he seemed to reach a decision with himself and he stepped away from the ship. Wide, confused brown eyes sought his gaze frantically.

"F-Fayt? What're ya doin'?" Roger asked, voice pitching in apprehension. As much as he tried to deny it, Roger knew that look all too well: Fayt was planning something, something undeniably crazy; and when the older male still refused to answer him, Roger stomped his foot and released a warning growl. "Quit foolin' around and get on the ship, ya big dummy!"

A gloved hand shot out to yank the dazed swordsman around.

"What're you doing?!" Maria yelled and gestured wildly around them. "In case you haven't noticed, this place is on its last legs and - " But whatever else she wanted to say died in her throat when Fayt caught both her wrists in his hands and held her with his gaze. Emerald met emerald; there was a fire burning in Fayt's eyes that she had never seen before and its passion gripped her. Their faces were so close, she flushed and had to suppress a shudder. Dr. Leingod's son really was an interesting character.

"Didn't you hear him? The Vendeeni are here," said Fayt with so much self-hatred and loathing, Maria didn't even have the heart to stop him when he released her to stare out in the direction of the old castle, a monument of smoke and stone in the distance. Thick tendrils of grey-black smoke rose into the air in place of the Sacred Orb's green glow and golden faerie dust.

"Dammit, they must have followed us here and stumbled upon the orb!" He pulled away from Maria to stare out in the direction of Castle Aquor, the gears in his head turning as he mapped out the quickest path to take amidst the destruction. "Even if we do escape, they'll steal the Sacred Orb and the whole of Gaitt will die – all because of me." He squared his shoulders in determination. "I won't let them."

Maria resigned to her fate with a sigh. Why did Fayt have to be right about these things? She was already regretting her decision before she made it.

"... Fine, then I'm coming with you." She loaded and cocked her gun. "We're the only ones on this planet with the technology to stop them anyway. You'll need backup."

"Alright then!" Cliff grinned and cracked his knuckles. "I was wondering when you guys would say that. Frankly, I've been meaning to give those Vendeeni scum a piece of my mind after what they did at Aire Hills."

Mirage smiled sweetly at her two charges. "Did you really think Cliff and I would let you guys have all the fun?"

But a certain Aquarian had to disagree.

"That's insane!" Nel cried. "How are you even going to get to Castle Aquor?"

"That's easy." Cliff indicated at a few shifting isles a few ways off. "We'll use those moving rocks. Their pliability should give us enough room to manipulate their movements, before the foundation completely collapses on itself."

"God dammit, Cliff, are you listening to yourself?! You get on this boat right now, or I swear to Apris I'll drag you up here myself!"

The Klausian chuckled, but the usual mirth was disturbingly absent. "Sorry, babe, but I'm the kid's bodyguard and where he goes, I go. Even if he's bat-shit crazy and has a death wish."

Nel was torn between feeling worried and uncomfortably upset.

"You–"

A small hand shot up to signal for silence.

"Nuttin's gonna change yer mind, huh?" Roger interrupted in a hollow voice as he regarded Fayt with sad eyes. They were filled with bitter understanding, of begrudging acceptance, like he knew nothing he said could shake the swordsman's faith, because he loved and knew Fayt so well and that trust would be his own undoing.

"Don't worry, Maria and I got this."

But it still hurt.

"Then ya better make it up ta me fer the rest of ya life," said Roger with a hopeless smile. "Cross yer heart?"

Fayt did just that. "And hope to die."

Roger watched the pair run off to join the two Klausians ahead, and his smile fell. He offered up a silent prayer to Apris.

Be safe.

The ship turned and sped off toward the city exits.

The further they flew, the more obstacles lay in their path. Islands, which once housed various homes and establishments, were no longer recognizable. Land came off in chunks of earth and rock – boulders, rubble and jagged spikes. Building foundations collapsed; trees uprooted and crashed down into the waters miles below; vessels lost their magic and sank beneath the waves in a pile of broken wood and rusted gears; and Roger worried that they would be next. Even now, he could feel the life draining from his ship: the steering wheel felt hard and unforgiving in his grasp; the sails sagged and lost their brilliant shine; and the entire vessel grew heavy, sluggish and less responsive with every second. It was getting harder to avoid the falling debris, which crashed noisily around them like an ominous orchestra. The ship's music, once a gentle and soothing melody, chimed with distress and off-key chords, echoing the peril that surrounded them.

Roger gritted his teeth and pushed on like a sailor in a raging storm.

Just a lil more…

They were steadily coming up to the city entrance. He could see the ship entry port (now completely destroyed save its 'welcome' signboard that was barely hanging on) and the revolving stairs that led to the surface. A guard positioned at the base of the stairs spotted their vessel and waved them over frantically; it was the last functioning staircase that held on amidst the destruction. Unfortunately, there was no proper port to dock at and they had to make a jump for it.

"I'll man the ship," Roger called out, keeping a tight grip on the wheel. "Yer majesties go first!"

Romeria stood shakily on the ship's edge and looked up. The guard motioned her over with his hands encouragingly. It was a long way down. One false move, one misstep and it would be all over. Her legs shook; the gap seemed wider than when she last looked, but closing her eyes wouldn't do. So, she gathered her skirts, took a deep breath and leapt off the edge – and immediately felt strong arms catch her when the Fellpool soldier pulled her to safety. Arzei followed soon after, the king faster and much more stable on his feet. Romeria clung on the moment he crossed over and he held her close, offering her whatever comfort he could.

"Next, the ministers! But ya guys gotta speed things up!"

Elder Roland jumped first; the old bunnyman barely making it if not for Arzei's quick reflexes. Next was Nerissa, then Malroy, before the latter quickly turned to grab Aznor's arm to yank his friend onto the ledge. Finally, Aznor turned to beckon Roger over.

"Come on, son!"

"Roger, I'll keep her steady," said Nel, forcing herself between the Menodix and the steering wheel. She took hold of it and pushed him away. "Go!"

"But–" Roger made to protest, but Nel silenced him with a stern look.

"You're the Prime Minister's son. If any harm befalls you, there will be consequences." Her expression softened at the sight of Roger's tear-filled eyes. "Don't worry about me, I'll be alright," she soothed and gave him a gentle shove. "Now, go."

Roger gave her a lingering stare, nervous and afraid, but all he could do was trust the Aquarian and pray that there was enough magic in the vessel to last for a few more minutes.

The ship creaked dangerously as he scurried across the deck and climbed onto the rails. The vessel gave a slight jerk and shudder as more magic was depleted and even less remained. Roger almost lost his footing and clung onto the mast nearby for support. His heart skipped a beat. One second too slow and he would have been lost to the great unknown below.

And then, all of a sudden, he felt the vessel start to sink like a deflating hot air balloon and his heart beat faster. No time. Looking out at his father's wide and desperate eyes, arms outstretched and ready to catch him, Roger crouched and got ready to jump –

"The engine's dead!"

His feet slipped under him and he missed the landing. Ropes snapped and the sails whipped haphazardly in the wind. The steering wheel rebelled against Nel's failing grasp, spinning out of control. The ship's engine gave one final gasp and gravity seized it. Roger's fingers slipped from his father's. Aznor screamed for his boy. Albel shot forward to catch and pull Roger close as they fell further from salvation. And then, with a loud ominous groan, the dead vessel capsized and fell out of sight, taking Roger, Nel and Albel along with it.

Roger screamed as he hurtled through the air, his small body doing wild flips in a desperate attempt to find some form of leverage – something solid, anything – in the wide-open nothingness. His fight-or-flight instincts kicked into overdrive, all four limbs and tail reaching out to find purchase on every solid boulder, every branch of an uprooted tree, and every broken piece of abandoned vessel that fell past. And that was when he spotted it: a small piece of land that was still afloat, fast-approaching. He stretched his fingers towards it and was filled with a sense of utmost relief when he made contact with its sturdy surface.

Got ya!

Unfortunately, his grip wasn't strong enough and his heart sank the moment his fingers slipped–

"Roger!"

A fair hand shot out and caught his smaller one like a vice. Roger gasped and gazed up at his savior, never more relieved to see the familiar face of the beautiful Aquarian. Nel's face was scrunched up in pain and determination; lying flat on her stomach, while her upper body hung over the beaten bedrock's edge, desperately clinging on to the one person who mattered the most to her in the entire world. She couldn't let Roger die on the ship then; she most definitely wouldn't allow him to die now, not on her watch.

"Nel!"

"Don't worry, I got you!"

But she stopped short when she felt more than heard the vibrations of another 'earthquake'. Nel's eyes widened in panic when the island they were on began to tilt to one side at an alarming speed – the very side that they were on. She kicked out with her feet and scrambled to find purchase with her free hand, but it was no use; she was sliding head first off the edge together with Roger, until the ground left them completely.

No! She couldn't fail again like how she failed her father and Clair. For once Apris, please grant her this wish: if she couldn't save herself, then at the very least may death spare the boy's soul. She did not have much to really live for; the war had taken away most of her reasons to carry on and fight, save one. Roger was the only family she had left.

Apris, please hear my prayer.

They fell further. Nel reached out to the heavens in a silent plea.

No, no, please–

And a purple-clothed arm surged forward to grab her hand tightly, muscles straining beneath the fabric to support hers and Roger's body weight against the merciless pull of gravity. Nel's heart soared. Never before did she feel this relieved to see a former enemy's face.

"Albel!"

The Glyphian swordmaster gritted his teeth in pain, his good arm shaking from the strain as he refused to let them go. His claw dug into the island's edge, but even its piercing metal grip was slipping from the combined weight of three and Albel felt as though his arm would surely be torn right off. The three of them dangled precariously off the edge, a human chain held together by faith, desperation and sheer will, against a crumbling world around them.

"Hang on!" Albel growled, crimson eyes narrowing as he struggled to find a way out of their predicament. His arm under his gauntlet would surely break at this rate.

Nel scoffed. "Not like we have a choice!"

"Now's not the time, wrench!"

Exasperation did not even come close to describing the look on Roger's face at the sound of their bickering. Old habits die hard, he supposed; even in the face of danger.

Roger quickly accessed his surroundings and immediately spotted an abandoned golden sailboat at the edge of a cliff a good few meters away. Its surface still glistened with life and the sails appeared sturdy. However, they needed to act fast, least the cliffside it was on, went too.

"Guys, I have an idea, but we need ta time this right," Roger called out to his company, while studying the shifting crusts overhead. He retrieved his claw weapon from within his overalls with his free hand. It was still a work-in-progress and he hadn't exactly tested it with human mass before, but it would have to do.

"Albel, on my signal, let go of the ledge!"

"We'll die, fool!"

"Trust me!" Roger held up his weapon and took aim at a sinking platform diagonally on top of them. "Whatever ya do, don't let go of each other's hands."

The isle came into sight, its current height forming a perfect trinity with the sailboat's cliffside and their current position. Roger could only pray that he got the angle and calculations right. With that, he pulled the trigger and watched the large, piercing claw shoot out and dig into the isle's underside like a giant grappling hook. The thick cord turned taut upon contact.

"Now!"

Albel let go with a cry and the three of them sailed through the air, swinging from one island to another. The momentum was impeccably calculated and the moment Albel's feet grazed the new surface, he quickly planted his boots firmly into the dirt and turned to grab Nel, who grabbed Roger, who released the claw. They tumbled onto the ground in a tangle of limbs and pained groans, with Albel getting the unfortunate brunt of it all.

"Get. Off. Me," he growled threateningly, but none responded, too tired and disoriented to care about the Glyphian's empty threats. How they survived all that was a miracle in itself.

Roger was the first to disentangle himself, before rushing over to inspect the abandoned sailboat. It was an archaic model of foreign design dating roughly three or so centuries ago – and judging by its gears and mechanics under the haul, its level of technology was something that would have definitely been well ahead of its time. Must be an old Greeton vessel, Roger thought as he scanned the mainframe. He had heard stories about how Greeton soldiers invaded the capital using flying ships. This must have been one of them left behind after the war. Thankfully, the mechanics didn't look too complicated to kick-start and operate; just some basic physics and engineering.

"Ok, the good news is this boat doesn't rely on the Sacred Orb's powers ta fly."

"And the bad news?" asked Nel with a skeptical frown.

"It needs a Captain," Roger replied, pointing at the open haul. "I need ta be down there ta manually calibrate the clockwork mechanism, so someone else needs ta steer. Problem is, this vessel's pretty old and can't handle too many hits. Whoever flies this thing needs ta be able ta skillfully navigate through all, well – he gestured at the falling City – that."

For a while, no one said anything; then an unlikely voice broke the silence.

"A worthy challenge," said Albel with a smirk. He stepped up to the bridge and confidently took hold of the steering wheel. There was a wild glint in the wicked one's eyes – the kind he got at the start of every battle, or before decimating an enemy in a pool of their own blood.

Roger shrugged. "Oh well, works fer me!" Then, he pried open the gearbox to start tinkering with the old engine controls.

"You?" Nel folded her arms and shot Albel an incredulous stare. "Since when do you know how to drive a ship? In case it hasn't occurred to you, we're in the middle of a collapsing civilization and we can't get hit even once."

However, all she got in return was a wide, shit-eating grin from the Glyphian in question. Nel didn't know which was worse: having to cooperate with Albel Nox to escape inexplicable doom, or bearing with his cockiness, which she was beginning to realize rather quickly how aggravating it could be – and Albel hadn't even said anything.

"Ok, Albel, engage half capacity the moment ya hear a loud bang," came Roger's voice from the lower deck.

"Bah! If you thought Airyglyph's military training was restricted to land and air combat, then you're sorely mistaken," said Albel as he unhinged and pulled a lever next to the wheel until its midway point, like the entire process was second nature to him. The timing was perfect and the vessel started up; sails unfurled themselves; and they began their ascent into the air.

"As – he growled detestfully beneath his breath – former Captain of the Black Brigade, it was my duty to ensure that all my men were prepared to defend Airyglyph from any threat or possible invasion, including those from the sea," he explained, skillfully turning the small vessel around in the direction of their intended destination. "Furthermore, Aquaria's back faces the East Ocean." Albel paused to sneer down at the stunned Aquarian mockingly. "I bet you never considered that possibly during the war, did you, High Commander?"

Just then, a loud explosion rocked the air and all three heads whipped around to locate the source of that disturbance. It came from Castle Aquor and even at a distance, one could easily make out thick black tendrils of smoke rising from the turrets and windows, along with the rapid flashes of blinding red light. Roger's heart skipped a beat and a cold, sinking feeling coiled at the base of his gut. Surferio was still sinking and there was no sign of Fayt and the others. It didn't take a genius to put two and two together.

"Fayt's in there," he whispered to himself, before fear and desperation seized him and he turned his attention to Nel and Albel at the bridge. "Fayt's in there with a bunch of Vendeeni soldiers and he needs our help! I don't know what the heck's goin' on in there, but we gotta do something!"

Screw what happened last night and screw Maria. He loved Fayt with all his heart and he'd be damned if he allowed the swordsman to die right under his nose without a fight.

"Albel, turn this boat around."

"Silence, fool." Said man met the boy's determined stare with an equally stubborn one of his own. "Those maggots made the choice to go after the orb, even after knowing full well the risks it would entail. I'm getting us to the surface in one piece, because I for one have no intention of dying on this miserable death trap."

"Albel…" Nel started, but the Glyphian cut her off.

"Zelpher, I don't care if you have feelings for that blonde buffoon of yours, or if your stupid religion automatically makes you a saint," said Albel with a glare. "But I have a responsibility to my King and Airyglyph, and I can't do that if I'm dead. What about you?"

Nel bit her lip and avoided his stare, but knew deep down that Albel was right. Their mission and duty to the throne came above everything else, including personal feelings and sentiment. Moreover, they had to protect Roger; willingly endangering the Prime Minister's son of the Sanmite Republic had political consequences for Aquaria and Airyglyph, especially right now that all three nations shared a temporary truce. She owed Fayt a great deal for his help both before and during the war, and by all means she was eternally grateful; but her Queen and people came first, they always have. So, with a nod of her head, Nel moved forward to grab the ropes and tighten the sails.

Albel watched the Aquarian work with an unreadable expression. He supposed there was something admirable about her grit and morals. Albel returned his focus to the task at hand and quickly scanned their environment. It would be one hell of a ride, but their vessel was small and lightweight; they could make it. He tightened his grip on the wheel and inched the lever forward…

"Albel…" Roger's small, miserable voice pierced the air and went straight to the ex-Captain's heart. The Menodix was struggling with himself and even though his hands never left the complicated gears and switches of the boat's mainframe, they shook from the emotional pain.

"Turn back! Please, I… A-Albel… Fayt, he…he..."

But Albel forced himself to ignore him and Roger swallowed in a bid to calm his emotions. Unfortunately, they were all over the place, thoughts of Fayt seriously injured or dying flashed through his mind and before he knew it, he was sobbing openly and screaming at the top of his voice.

"Albel, please! I love him!"

It was heartbreaking to see Roger, the usually loud, over-confident and self-proclaimed 'Man of all men', reduced to this broken state – and all because of a 19-year-old warrior from the stars. And just like that time at the Kirlsa Training Facility, Albel could feel the boy's emotions so strongly – his fear, desperation, despair and grief – and it hurt. It hurt so much, it was hard to breathe. Roger's pain was different from what Shelby had put him through, more paralyzing in fact, because unlike an instinctual need to protect and retaliate, Albel felt agony from a truth he had known all along but refused to acknowledge. The pain he felt from Roger's heartbreak was nothing compared to the pain he felt in his own heart from the boy's confession. Why did another deserve his love and not him?

"I love him!"

Why did it have to be fucking Leingod?

His grip on the steering wheel shook.

"... Fine."

Roger's eyes widened in surprise and Nel's jaw dropped. Could it be? Had Albel actually changed his mind? Had he perhaps developed a moral conscience?

"But know this, little fool," Albel continued, as he powered the vessel to full capacity and steered them in the direction of Castle Aquor. "I'm not doing this for him."

Fayt backed up until he felt Cliff's stiff and muscled back hit his. Similarly next to him, Maria had hers against Mirage's. Each of them had their weapons out and enough fight in them to keep going, but they were surrounded and hilariously, painfully outnumbered about 4:1. It was maddening: no matter how many Vendeeni soldiers they slayed and laid to waste at their feet, more kept coming – quite literally, because the sneaky bastards had a transporter set up and an endless supply of soldiers at the snap of their leader's fingers… fins. It was a lost cause from the start.

Maria mentally cursed their situation and her lack of foresight. Of course Biwig would prepare backup. The elite Vendeeni commander was as cautious as he was incredibly sly. It was obvious the Sacred Orb meant a lot to him if he was willing to send down an entire army just to stop them from interfering. She eyed Fayt from the corner of her eye with a despairing frown. If only he could control his powers; the Vendeeni would be nothing but dust in the wind by now, and the orb could be safely restored to its proper place on the pedestal. Alas, all they had were her powers of alteration – and shields and buffs did little to alleviate their situation, save buy them more time.

"Why are you doing this?!" Fayt demanded hotly, his past fear of the Vendeeni, which haunted his nightmares, now nothing but a distant memory. Rage and exasperation were all that were left. "If you take that orb, this whole planet and all the life in it will die!"

"Honestly, do you even think I care?" Biwig drawled and if amphibians could roll their eyes, he would. "All I know is, if I have you and this OPA, I'll be invincible; the Pangalactic Federation won't be able to lay so much as a finger on me and the Vendeeni will finally win this war – no, supreme universal conquest!" He cradled the Sacred Orb in one fin and pointed his blaster at Maria and her crew. "Now then, I'll have to ask Doctor Leingod's son to come with us. He's given me enough trouble after – annihilating an entire fleet of my finest soldiers!"

Biwig's rage was apparent as it echoed off the walls of the chamber, but it did nothing to shake the group's conviction. Maria stepped in front of Fayt protectively.

"Over my dead body!"

"Gladly!"

Biwig cranked up his blaster to full power and fired straight at the party of four. The gunslinger reacted swiftly.

"Reflection!"

A glimmering forcefield materialized around them, deflecting the blast completely, but left a crack in its wake. Still, it served its purpose, but who knew for how long.

"Damn it, old fish-face is toying with us," Cliff observed, as he hovered protectively over the party's two youngest. "All he needs to do is order his men to hit us with sustained fire for less than 30 seconds, and we're screwed over."

"What should we do?" asked Mirage, worry filling her words. "If we stay in here, we're dead. If we leave this shield, we're dead."

"Doesn't look like very good odds, huh?"

Biwig cackled. "Last chance, Quark. Hand over the boy and I might consider letting you go. Y'know, as one anti-federation group to ano–"

"Ya sure like hearin' the sound of yer own voice, don't ya, fish breath?"

All heads turned to locate the source of that unexpected interruption. There, atop the transporter, sat a very smug looking Roger, twirling his axe. He grinned and did a sign of a gun with his fingers at the sputtering Vedeen commander.

"Ya know what yer problem is? Ya guys don't play fair." His fingers grazed the edge of his blade and it gleamed under the light. "This oughta even the odds!" He then jumped up and brought down his axe on the transporter, splitting it right down the center. Sparks flew as the machine shut down completely. Roger raised his axe at the Vendeeni Commander in warning.

"Fayt's not goin' anywhere, and whoever thinks otherwise, will hafta go through us!"

"Alright! Now that's what I call an entrance," Cliff cheered while punching a fist into the air. "Huh, never thought I'd be this happy to see the little pipsqueak."

However, not everyone shared Cliff's enthusiasm. Fayt's expression was a complicated mixture of shock, relief, joy and horror. Roger? No! He shouldn't even be here! The boy should have been on that ship safe and sound, away from any immediate danger, sailing away with–

Fayt paused and blinked slowly. Wait a minute, 'us'?

"Ice daggers!"

A slew of piercing icicles sliced through the air and penetrated the two Vendeeni soldiers standing at Biwig's sides. The attack was as swift as it was deadly; they were frozen solid in seconds; and another rain of icicles was all it took to completely shatter their bodies into tiny pieces.

Nel emerged from the shadows and unsheathed her daggers, a mysterious smirk playing across her lips.

"Sorry for cutting in," she said, but the slightest hint of venom in her voice clearly indicated she felt otherwise, "but I think you've outstayed your welcome here long enough. Our friends and the orb aren't going anywhere!"

Biwig screamed in outrage and gestured at his remaining men. "Kill them! Kill them all!"

What followed soon after was a mad scramble for victory and survival. Lasers and pulse beams met cold, unrelenting steel; spells and symbology worked together in a symbiotic dance to push the enemy back; and without the transporter at their disposal, the Vendeeni were quickly beginning to realise that they no longer had the upper hand. Fayt, Maria, Cliff and Mirage appeared to have gotten their morale back and together with Roger and Nel, were making quick work of Biwig's cronies. The discrepancy between the two parties' skill level and combat prowess grew more apparent by the minute and the longer the battle drew out, the more Biwig's patience grew thin.

"Idiots! Can't you do anything right?! They're just a bunch of backwater insects– Urk!"

A burning sensation entered and spread throughout his chest; he tasted blood in his mouth and the stench of his own searing flesh. To so much as breathe was an agony in itself, but all that combined was less disturbing than the sight of a bloody metal claw puncturing straight through his own chest. Green liquid oozed from the claw into the gaping wound like a serpent coiling around its prey. Biwig's blood ran cold as he felt the poison spread and he dropped his weapon along with the Sacred Orb in shock.

"Humph, maggots with nothing better to say, shouldn't say anything at all."

The claw withdrew with the same blinding speed and force as it had entered. Biwig collapsed on the ground, gasping and wheezing pitifully like a fish out of water. Albel sneered down at the Vendeeni commander, wiping the blood off his claw on the uniform of a dead soldier he had pinned against a wall with his katana.

"Normally, I don't waste my time on weaklings, but you've put me through quite the inconvenience and I don't appreciate the travail." He retrieved his katana and approached the injured Biwig with measured steps, like a cat cornering a struggling rat in its final moments. "Don't expect to die painlessly. I'll smash your face until you're begging me to kill you and get it over with."

Albel raised his sword and was about to bring it down on his victim, when he paused to bring his blade around to swiftly intercept and slash through an oncoming Vendeeni soldier thrown his way. The corpse fell apart; blood splattered on his cheek and he licked it away with a crazed look in his eyes.

"Watch what you're doing, Leingod!"

Fayt feigned innocence while casually propping his sword on his shoulder. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"The hell you don't!"

Using that distraction, Biwig forced himself on his elbows and crawled towards the exit. Mentally, he cursed the sudden turn of events that had emerged in Quark's favor. Never mind the OPA; he needed to return to the Dasvanu, get his wounds patched up and rethink his plan. If Leingod refused to come quietly, then he would just have to get his hands on the boy the old fashioned way. He activated a switch on his communicator and was beamed up in seconds.

"Hey, it's not my fault you attract idiots."

"I will carve that tongue from your mouth and take great pleasure in watching you bleed!"

"Bring it on! I could use a little sparring practice!"

It was truly amazing how Fayt and Albel could have a sustained argument, while simultaneously fending off Vendeeni soldiers armed with high-tech weaponry. The two swordsmen moved with expert grace and precision, ducking when the other moved upwards to slash an oncoming foe, and thrusting their blades in opposite directions to intercept attacks aimed for each other's blind spots. Ironically, for a pair of bitter rivals who hated each other's guts, the two men worked surprisingly well together, covering all the other's bases as they moved in perfect synch.

"Move, worm. You're in the way!"

"You're in the way!"

Meanwhile, a certain Menodix continued to watch them with a bemused smirk. Those two really are summin', Roger thought with a shake of his head, before turning his keen eyes back to the battlefield, searching. Now, where's that orb… aha! The silver sphere rolled across the floor between feet and fallen bodies. Everyone was too busy fighting to notice its presence and he saw it as the perfect time to strike.

"Come ta papa!" He scampered across the room; running, jumping and crawling past obstacles, lasers and between legs to close the distance. Distantly, he heard a faint buzzing in his head, but ignored it.

'Grab it and put it back, grab it and put it back,' he mentally recited to himself like a mantra, as he reached for the Sacred Orb. 'Almost… got it…'

"... rue the day you said that, worm!"

Fayt rolled his eyes at yet another classic Albel comeback and was about to throw the latter one of his own, when he noticed a startlingly familiar flash of brown and green at the corner of his eye. He quickly turned his head and felt his heart stop: Roger was halfway across the room, chasing the rolling silver sphere with his fingers outstretched.

No! This was why he volunteered to take care of the Vendeeni. This was why he didn't even want Roger to be here. And apparently, he wasn't the only one who noticed this. Albel, after realizing his rival wasn't paying attention to his insults, stopped to stare too. Even Nel paused in mid-swing of her daggers, only to barely evade a pulse beam aimed her way from her opponent.

"Roger… has always been different. My wife and I have known this for years now."

Fayt dropped everything and sprinted after him.

"There is a reason he's not part of this meeting and why my family lives in a village far away from the Lost City."

Cliff drop-kicked his opponent at Mirage and ran after Fayt, swearing all the way. Damn brat didn't know a thing. Maria reacted quickly and cast Angel Feather on the two to give them a little speed boost. Damn, when did things this complicated?

"Well, you see, Roger…"

The Menodix reached the Sacred Orb, a dazed look in his eyes. The pounding in his skull evened out into a dull and distant throb; the incessant buzzing now a soothing, seductive whisper. Touch it, it breathed and like a puppet hanging from its strings, Roger heeded its call and moved..

"... Roger almost killed us all."

Fayt thrust his hand out and screamed.

"ROGER, NO!"

Roger grabbed it and the moment his fingers made contact against its smooth, cool surface, a searing pain exploded through his skull and set his whole body ablaze. Roger's eyes flew open and he screamed the most ear-piercing, heart-stopping agonizing scream they had ever heard – loud enough to shake mountains; eerie enough to send chills down one's spine. Fayt, Nel, Cliff and Mirage gazed on helplessly and experienced an uncanny sense of deja vu. It was just like that time back in Castle Aquios before the war, only this time, Roger was very much awake and not passed out in some bed, rendered unconscious from the effects.

A bright red aura engulfed Roger and entered his eyes, consuming the once sparkling and innocent brown pupils a horrifying, ominous glow. He saw nothing but a deep, never-ending darkness; then, visions of flashing memories that weren't his own; scenes and faces he did not recognize, yet felt vaguely familiar. And the moment he turned to face the worried faces of his friends and the confused expressions of his enemies, Roger was filled with a purpose that was both foreign and frightening to him, yet completely intuitive like an old memory buried deep within his consciousness. For the first time in his life, he felt complete; and when he next spoke, it was in a voice that was both his and not his own, of two consciouses sharing a soul, echoing after the other in unison.

"You entities have upset the order and balance of this perfect world."

He turned his hollow, unseeing gaze to the Vendeeni, who predictably had their guns out and trained on him. His lips twitched in disdain.

"For that, you will receive divine punishment for your transgressions."

Roger raised his hand, palm to the sky and like the rest of his body, it glowed a deep red. Power gathered at the center of his palm and immediately, every single Vendeeni soldier in the room found themselves bound by the mysterious red aura. It burned like someone had set fire directly to their veins, yet they could not move, could not speak, and had to watch on in silent dread as the deceiving child before them took in their fear and suffering with a wide, satisfied grin.

"Star Fall."

Roger closed his hand into a fist and watched in glee as meteors and fireballs crashed through the ceiling to engulf the Vendeeni soldiers in flames. They screamed and thrashed in their bonds this time, the excruciating pain too much to bear – and in a blink of an eye, every single one of them disintegrated into thin air. Not a trace of them was left, not even ash.

Nel trembled as her hand shakily moved to conjure up a swirl of ice. Despite the scene she has just witnessed, worry and a deep-rooted love for the humanoid boy she viewed as her brother, filled her heart in place of fear. What in Apris had Aznor been hiding this whole time? It was frightfully unsettling. To possess the power to kill a dozen people simultaneously with a snap of his fingers… It wasn't human. This wasn't Roger. This wasn't the little boy she grew to love as a family. However, before she could so much as twitch her fingers for a quick disarming spell, the red aura seized her wrist abd threw her completely off rhythm. An aggravated hiss next to her revealed that Albel was in a similar situation; his good hand frozen over the hilt of his katana and claw rendered useless.

Roger turned to stare at the two Elicoorians with an exaggerated tilt of his head and a wry smirk.

"Sorry, can't have you two interfering. I can't afford to have a conscience," he said with mock fondness and the bonds snapped tighter, making them gasp in its hold. Roger's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Time to severe the ties. Star– ARGH!"

A brilliant blue blast hit the Menodix square in his back and he dropped the Sacred Orb. The force of the blow caused the small boy to tumble a good distance across the room to smack painfully against a wall. He was out like a light in seconds and a pained frown marred his soft, innocent features – the only evidence that the past 15 minutes actually happened.

Five heads whipped around to stare at the source of that attack.

Panting heavily, Fayt lowered his hand and the swirling blue symbols around it and on his forehead – the very same ones that destroyed the Vendeeni battleship – dissipated. Ethereal wings folded into his back, only to disappear in a burst of light and swirl of white feathers. For a moment, nothing happened; none dared speak; and then like a ripple disrupting the stillness of a stream, with slow, measured steps, Fayt approached the unconscious Menodix with a calm certainty that left the others in complete awe.

Maria frowned as she watched the blue-haired swordsman's actions suspiciously, the gears in her head turning. Interesting… very interesting. Because unlike the last time his powers had manifested, it was apparent that Fayt knew exactly what he was doing and was in full control.

The Earthling crouched down to pick up the Sacred Orb and placed it back on its pedestal. Immediately, pure water and energy flowed from it once more, cleansing the castle and the world outside of it. A deep rumble resonated through the air, the ground trembled and turned lighter as it ascended to its original place in the sky. No doubt the rest of Surferio was restoring itself too, but that wasn't important right now – at least, not in terms of immediate concern.

Fayt stopped before Roger's vulnerable form and gently picked him up to cradle him like a precious babe. And just like that time in Castle Aquois, the moment his fingers made contact with Roger's heated skin, the angry red aura dissipated and a peaceful expression adorned the child's face. A similar expression crossed Fayt's features. It was over.

"I got you," Fayt whispered and placed a tender, lingering kiss upon Roger's brow. "It's me... I'm here."

I won't let you go.

Picking up his sword, Fayt kept his gaze trained forward as he carried the boy all the way out the old castle doors and never once looked back. Cliff, Nel, Maria, Mirage and Albel could do nothing save follow silently behind, a thousand questions running through their minds. They won, but victory never felt so meaningless.

To be continued...

Author's note:

I'm really sorry for the long wait, but this chapter was insanely difficult to write because of all the dramatic events going on and also that plot twist at the end! Yes, I did not forget all the things I previous set up in "The Stars Told Me So", so with high hopes, I hope they came through in the end... but it's not the end! Who or what is Roger, really? And is his connection to Fayt more than just emotional attraction? The mystery and plot thickens! Also, I hate Biwig and want to punch his face in like Albel does.