A/N: Hey, guys! I have absolutely no clue what the general reaction for the first chapter will be, and I only post this chapter because I like this idea and don't like doing one-shots. Well, I guess that's all for now, thanks for any readers who really enjoy this fic.

Chapter 2: White Wind

"You're sure that there's a shard nearby?"

"One-hundred percent."

"Okay…"

The two speaking voices were both female, both young, and both annoyed. Though, their irritation spawned from different reasons. For the blonde-haired swordswoman in the white and blue dress, it was the long walk that had spawned her ire. For the younger girl, whose hair was tied into two large pigtails, the former girl's irritation was the cause for her own.

"But, we've been walking for hours," the blonde whined once again. "Are you absolutely sure that we're heading in the right direction?"

"Yes, Cassandra, I'm sure!" growled the younger girl, crossing her arms and turning to face her elder.

Cassandra sighed. "Well, I guess your powers haven't been wrong yet, Talim…"

Talim nodded, her elbow-blades at her sides. She turned back to her prior direction, walking once again. The two had been following the wind, which Talim had claimed was carrying the stink of Soul Edge, which meant that a shard was in that direction.

Cassandra followed, though somewhat upset and annoyed still. She continued to bellyache along the way. Talim, however, never snapped at her. That just wasn't in her nature. Instead, she closed her eyes and continued to navigate in the direction of Soul Edge fragment.

They had been sent out alone by Sophitia, Cassandra's sister and leader of the White Wind, to find this piece of the sword, which was significantly weaker than other shards. It was probably small and useless, not even to give the wielder much in the way of power. Had it not been for Talim's ability to hear the wind, it was most likely to fall onto Nightmare's hands rather than theirs.

Cassandra hated the constant little tests that her sister would send her on. Simple, menial tasks that anyone with a bit of knowledge could do effectively. It was clear that, despite her training and skill, Sophitia was still hesitant to allow Cassandra to pursue the main sword dangers of it, as she had once before.

"You've only seen the sword at a fraction of its true power. You are not even remotely ready to face the true Soul Edge," her sister had said.

Cassandra, of course, disagreed with this point wholeheartedly. She thought that her skill surpassed those around her. True, she was better than most, but even Talim admitted Cassandra was a bit too rash to take on the forefront of the hunt for Soul Edge.

Cassandra whined once again, making it clear that her quiet, irritated complaining wouldn't cease any time soon. Talim, being the one who had to put up with it, did her best to block out the girl's peevish attitude. She took solace in the wind's constant whisperings to her, nudging her in the proper direction of the evil energy.

Winding through more and more trees, the girls' ire slowly growing, and their sources of irritation being a constant. It seemed that with each step, Cassandra's whining grew more insistent and Talim's patience, which the young girl had an abundance of, grew short.

"We're here," Talim finally muttered, drawing Cassandra out of her current situation of filing complaints with the ground about its solidity.

"Finally," the blonde sighed in relief. "Where's the shard?"

Talim looked around, seeing nothing. "I am… unsure…"

Cassandra groaned with irritation. "I thought that's what those powers were for!"

Talim crossed her arms defensively. "It's somewhere in this area. We just have to search a little."

Cassandra sluggishly went about searching through the foliage in an attempt to find the shard they had been searching for. They scoured the area for roughly twenty minutes to find the presence, but to no avail. No fragment anywhere.

At least, that's what they though until a twig nearby snapped. The two spun in that direction, readying their weapons. Cassandra drew her short sword while Talim prepared her elbow blades. The two readied themselves for any kind of attack, but the only thing that broke to uncanny silence of the forest was a soft, light groan.

"W-what was that?" Talim asked softly. The only reply was yet another groan. "The stink of Soul Edge is strong… perhaps someone claimed the fragment?"

Cassandra held her shield up, facing the patch of thick foliage from which the groan had been emitted. "Let's check," she said stepping towards the bushes and bushing the leaves aside.

"What is…"

"Xianghua, do you think we should retrieve them?"

"You worry too much, Sophitia," came the reply of the Chinese woman, who was working beside her.

The two had been fanning through separate requests to join their group, whether it be through knocking on Sophitia's door or sending her an abundance of letters, which would never receive a reply. But, after one young man or woman was denied, three more showed up to try and take their place. it was quickly drawing on the Athenian girl's nerves, and she hoped to soon be rid of the issue.

Many would seek Soul edge for their own selfish desires; whether it be to claim it for their own, use it for their country, or use it to avenge someone lost to it. There were few who wished the eradication of the blade, but those few either weren't skilled enough in order to take on the challenges that Soul Edge would pose or simply weren't White Wind material. Those who weren't "White Wind material" were not ruled out for gender, race, or any irrational reason like that. Instead, their intelligence is what the deciding factor in the selection of warriors was.

Intelligence is what White Wind sought. One who could hold their own, survive in the world. Those with intelligence would be able to do such things, while an unintelligent warrior would be unable to attack with tact. Instead, many of them would rush into a battle without any clue or preformed thought. This almost always ended in an untimely death.

White Wind didn't need that on their plate. They didn't need an unconfident or unintelligent warrior's death on their hand. Sophitia didn't want that, Xianghua didn't want that, none of the members of the group wanted that.

"It seems as quantity increases, quality drops," Xianghua sighed. She dropped the parchment in her hand, leaning back in the chair she was seated in.

"Unfortunately," Sophitia responds. There was no desire for any extent of conversation between them, instead of focusing on meagre conversing, Sophitia's mind drifted to Talim and her sister. She had sent the two after a weak piece of Soul Edge located in Turkey. They should have been back by now. Even without the use of the main roads which were built to make travel in the country quicker, it would only take, at the most, a week to get two and from the destination. Talim had assured the elder Alexander sister that the shard was no more than ninety miles away.

"...phitia... "Xianghua's rather irritated voice broke Sophitia's reverie. The blonde-headed Greek woman turned to her friend.

"Ah, yes?" she sheepishly inquired.

Xianghua sighed heavily, shaking her head with faux disappointment.

"I asked why your gaze is so distant. What's on your mind?" Xianghua repeated herself.

"Ah, I was just thinking about Talim and my sister. They should have been back by last night."

Xianghua mulled over the situation momentarily. "I wouldn't worry about them. Talim and your sister are both greatly capable warriors."

Though, even with the encouragement of one of her most trusted allies and closest friends, the Athenian warrior couldn't help but worry about the wellbeing of the two girls she had sent out. She wondered where they were, what they were doing, and what could have happened to cause their tardiness. Though, Sophitia's much need distraction came in the form of her two squabbling children.

The two tiny kids came running down the steps, her son before her daughter, complaining of something or the other. It was some issue with Patroklos messing with Pyrrha's hair. The young girl was rather protective of the golden locks which she inherited from her mother. Patroklos instead took on his father's dirty blonde hair, but was much less protective over the follicles.

Sophitia couldn't help but smile at the antics of the two. She picked Patroklos up, holding him above the assaulting Pyrrha. Sophitia then patted the young girl's head. "Pyrrha, be nice to your brother. He's the only one you've got," she chuckled.

The young girl in question sighed, folding her arms. "But, my hair…"

"It's still there, isn't it?" the mother asked, setting her son back on the ground, where he took off into the bakery portion of the house.

Pyrrha resisted her urge to give chase, and instead turned back to the stairs, rushing up the treads and into her and Patroklos' shared room.

Pyrrha seemed to have an innocence that Sophitia hoped wouldn't even be spoiled. At least, she hoped so.

A/N: Hey, guys. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I'm trying not to make them too short, and I promise they'll be longer in the future. I'm personally enjoying this fic, and will be posting new chapters as soon as possible.

GTI out.