And so the story continues. This one went up a bit later than usual, since I had a fanfic challenge to do. Well, I hope you enjoy it. ) But first, review responses!

Hey,
Yeah, I always see Isaac as the one more likely to use the light-oriented Sol Blade, while Felix with the Darksword. And yeah, that blacksmith is Desmond. Concerning a possible Aleos/Cara, it's not even confirmed if it's going to be there. And even if it is, it won't come into play for a long long time. Their relationship… well, you'll see. Reeled in, eh? Excellent, and thanks for the review.

readergirl-290,
Well, you have to remember, the GS heroes and the Fivefold have met before. They are the tablet guardians, you know. Thanks for the review, and perceptive about the contents of this chapter, too. But simply talking isn't really Shamira's style, you know…

Waeyon-thunderlord,
Yeah, I know it does. I look back on some of my earlier work, and the urge to go back and rewrite it gets on my nerves sometimes. ;; But ah well. Glad you like it.

Golden Sun Smiley,
Heh, it had better taken off easily. I did write Fivefold Star before this, after all, so this has plenty of base. So, thanks. Comments like those make it worthwhile writing… and reviews in general, of course. As for Cara, she's been there all along. The itemkeeper in GS1 is her, as you probably know. But… yeah, it was kinda rushed, but ah well. ) Thanks for the review.

Dracobolt,
Hah, we aren't even done with prep work yet. And I hope I don't disappoint… which I'm sure I won't. P Thanks for the review, mate. XD Wouldn't it be surprising as hell if I actually did listen to you and put some in? 0o Don't worry, I won't. snickers

Vaescent,
Another journey, indeed. Thanks for the review, and about 'that time'… don't expect it anytime soon, but I haven't picked a precise time for it yet.

Whew. That's getting to take up quite a bit of space… which is a good thing! Remember, reviews feed my inner muse, who might die of starvation otherwise. ;; Without further ado…

Chapter 3

Truths Revealed

"So where exactly are you taking me?" Sheba shouted for the tenth time, but the woman holding her just smiled calmly and ignored her. Frustrated, the blonde Jupiter Adept struggled against the forearm pinning her to the woman's side, but it was no use. Sheba sighed and began drumming her fingers on the woman's vambrace, which elicited a weary-sounding 'Stop that'.

"Make me," Sheba said irritably, not in the mood to co-operate.

The woman loosened her grip for a moment, and Sheba gasped as she felt gravity begin to make itself known. The woman tightened her arm again and spoke smugly. "If you don't, I'll drop you. From this height, it will likely be fatal."

Sheba pouted.

How was she to know that when she bent down in that field to watch a butterfly landing on a flower, this random woman would actually fly up behind her, grab her around the waist, and carry her off into the sky without a word of explanation?

"Can you at least tell me your name?" Sheba asked, trying to be nice. She figured that at how-many thousand feet over Weyard, she should at least make an effort to be friendly to the person holding her life literally in her arms.

The woman glanced down on her, and Sheba was once again struck by her unique appearance. The woman's face was slender and almost elven, with a small mouth and large lilac eyes. Her skin was somewhat tanned, and her wispy violet hair was blown back by the rushing of the wind. She wore an indigo tunic with a plate of blue leather for upper body armour, and an amethyst circlet in the likeness of a flying eagle on her forehead. Her arms, which Sheba had such a good look of, were sleeved in an almost pink cloth, with a dark purple brace over her forearms and matching leather gloves on her hands.

"Oh, all right," the woman said finally. "Shamira Skyshroud. Not Mira, not Shammie. Shamira." She looked down and smiled tolerantly. "Is that good enough, little Sheba?"

The blonde remained unfazed. "So. You're a Jupiter Adept and read my mind. Thought so. The hair was a bit of a giveaway, and those," Sheba jerked her head towards the iridescent wings on Shamira's back, their violet colour glittering in the sun. "More or less sealed the deal."

"You might want to take a deep breath now, little Sheba, the air should be getting thin soon," Shamira advised.

"Don't call me 'little Sheba'," she responded tartly. "And I won't call you Shammie."

"You might want to save your air," Shamira shot back.

Sheba looked down, wondering how high they were, and suddenly found she couldn't pull her gaze away. All of Weyard was spread below her like a tapestry, with little farms, towns, and mountains sewn into it. The four lighthouses gleamed beneath like jewels, reduced to the size of her thumb in her vision. It was beautiful. She located Lalivero easily enough, and wondered how Faran was doing. She hadn't seen him in months, though she'd received plenty of frantic letters. She felt a pang of guilt in her heart as she thought of home, and bit her lip.

"Home…" Shamira said softly. "Girl, have you ever wondered where you came from?"

"It's considered rude to read minds, you know. And yes, I have," Sheba said. "It's what I've been looking for all my life. The reason why I originally joined the quest to light the lighthouses was so I could find that home, and with it, maybe a purpose in life. I mean, I know I have friends and all that care for me, but I've always wondered just who I am. Nobody seems to know where I came from."

Shamira replied, keeping her soft tone. "That's where I'm taking you. Home."

"Up here?" Sheba replied skeptically. "That's ridiculous. The only thing that's up here is the moon and the sun. Since the sun's obviously out of the question, that leaves the moon, and all the moon is…" A slow grin spread across Sheba's features as she realized what that meant. "Aha! I was right, wasn't I! I'm from Anemos!"

Shamira beamed. "Yep. Clan of Jupiter, race of Truth. I recognized your soul signature when I came to Vale, and thought it was time to bring you home."

Sheba was ecstatic. "So, does that mean you're from Anemos too? And they sent you to come and get me?"

"From Anemos, yes. Sent to get you, no," Shamira said slowly. "I myself haven't been to Anemos in… a long time."

"Then how do you know this is how you get there?" Sheba said, doubt beginning to seep into her voice. "This kind of situation," she said, glancing below her. "Doesn't exactly leave room for doubt."

"An old friend told me, long ago. She was a knight of Anemos, brave and full of valour, like they all are. You have allied with Coatlitcue, right?" Sheba nodded. "Well, this was the knight that bound Coatlitcue in the first place."

Sheba nodded. "I see. She must have been very great." Suddenly, her eyes widened. "Wait, long enough ago to seal Coatlitcue? And you knew her? How old are you?"

Shamira gave a weary smile. "Far past my time, that's for sure." Her psynergy wings continued to beat the air, carrying them higher and higher. "This should be far enough," Shamira said decisively. "Ready?"

Sheba noticed for the first time how cold it was, and as Shamira had said the air was a lot thinner. But Jupiter Adept she was, she summoned air from the reservoir below her and took a deep breath. "Ready."

The violet-haired woman held her tighter and pumped her wings twice more to gain more altitude, before stretching them taunt to glide. She concentrated on the Anemos she once knew, and prepared her spell.

"Teleport!"

There was nothing quite like the sensation of teleport, Shamira reflected. As you focus on the image of your destination, your body dissolves into a million molecular particles, and your mind blanks out as you're whirled to the chosen place.

There have been tales however, of those who formed an incorrect mental image of the place they wanted to go to, and then, the Teleport Psynergy couldn't recognize the chosen destination and would leave them in the horrible limbo of being broken into a million pieces, scattered across Weyard. The lucky ones die instantly, while some… well, it's better not to think of such things. Especially at a time like this.

As she cast Teleport with the image of her Anemos in her eyes, Shamira knew of this risk. The Anemos she formed the image of was from a thousand years ago, and was located on Weyard, not Luna. If there was enough of a difference between then and now, she and Sheba would both die.

The transfer of Teleport usually lasts about ten seconds, long enough for your body to dissolve and the particles to travel to your destination and reassemble. This time, though, it was longer. Shamira's disintegrated mind ticked away the seconds silently. 'One… two… three…" Things looked okay so far, though that's simply a figure of speech. In Teleport, the five senses are rendered useless, and there remains only a vague sense of your surroundings. "Five… six… seven…" At ten, Shamira's doubt turned to panic. Something had gone wrong. Perhaps her destination had changed, or perhaps the distance between Weyard and Luna was simply too great. Was she so arrogant that she thought she could jump through outer space?

At thirteen, lucky old thirteen, Shamira felt a sense of drawing together, and couldn't help but give a silent cry of relief.

Shortly after, her body reassembled and she fell into a pile of fine white dust with a hollow oomph, Sheba beside her. Sheba coughed into her hand a couple of times, and then looked around blearily. "Are we here?"

Shamira wiped the dust from her eyes, and let out a gasp of surprise. "If we aren't, then who built that?"

Looking up at the moon from Weyard, no one would have suspected the vast civilization that lived on the other side. The place where Shamira and Sheba Teleported to was all that remained of Old Anemos, a few forsaken pillars and crumbled sky platforms, the modern translation of the old tongue for the many rises that once consisted of Anemos. The old royal castle, a magnificent tower of gemstone, lay disused ignobly on its side in the dust, a fallen memoir from the Golden Age.

The land of Luna was like nothing either Shamira or Sheba had ever seen before. The sky was a very faint blue and the earth was for the most part, a fine white dust. However, plants managed to spring through the 'soil', willowy-looking things that waved high in the air, surpassing twenty feet. Many of them resembled giant twigs, about two inches through yet incredibly tall and flexible. There was something that resembled a giant puffball at the end of the stalk, perhaps two feet in diameter. As the two stunned Adepts watched, one of the puffballs disintegrated, dispersing tiny specks into the dust around them.

"Looks like a dandelion," Shamira murmured.

Sheba looked at her sideways. "You're kidding."

"I'm not. It's obvious things have changed on Luna since Anemos arrived, and it seems the city brought the plants of Weyard with them. They must have produced this air, too." She breathed deeply. "It's so pure."

Sheba gave a half-hearted smile. "You know, it is. I wouldn't mind living up here.." She added softly.

Shamira just shook her head. "We'll see."

Sheba looked back the way she came. "On second thought, it looks like Anemos is in ruins. What if they got here, they found they couldn't survived and all died off?"

Shamira bit her lip. "I don't even want to think of that. Let's just look for them." They started walking across the surface, kicking up dust as they went.

"I still don't trust you, you know," Sheba said suddenly. "I mean, a citizen of a long lost civilization suddenly comes out of nowhere, claiming she can take me to my birthplace. You have to admit, it sounds somewhat fishy."

"What, you don't believe this is Luna?" Shamira said, a cock-eyed grin on her face.

"I didn't say that," Sheba said, shaking her head. "But who are you?" Sheba said, turning to face her. "We're both Jupiter Adepts, so you can block me from your mind if I tried to find out that way. So why don't you just tell me? We're going to a place I've never been to, and I want to know everything first."

"I told you," she answered in exasperation. "Shamira Skyshroud." S

heba gave an equally exasperated sigh. "I know that! But who are you, really?"

Silence reigned for several minutes as the two squared off, bright determination in Little Sheba's eyes, and hesitance in Shamira's. At length, she looked away, and asked. "Are you sure you really want to know? You may not like the truth…"

"Yes!" Sheba said emphatically.

Shamira took a deep breath and turned to face the smaller Adept. She seemed to grow taller, and began speaking. "I am Shamira Skyshroud the 1st of the Anemosian Royal Family, named so after a prophecy at my birth saying that I would guard a great force. I was Crown Princess at the time of the end of the Golden Age and Anemos' flight to Luna, and furthermore I was one of the five great Adepts that sealed Alchemy from the catastrophe, Regnoare, who stole the power of the Golden Sun."
"That is why I have approached you. In this new age, all Adepts must be made aware of the threat of one possessing that sacred stone," she paused to let that sink in. "Your quest isn't over, Sheba."
Before she could say anything in response, Shamira continued. "As well, Anemos was to be alerted when it was time to return to Weyard."

"You mean the Anemosians will be returning?" Sheba jumped in.

But Shamira was not finished, and held out a hand. "But that was my mortal self, before I 'died'. My true self is one you know well enough," Shamira stated, and as she continued her voice dropped several octaves, becoming deep, malevolent and thick with power. The space around her shimmered as if through a desert haze, and her features rippled.

"I am also the guardian of a portion of Sol Aurarius, and keeper of Catastrophe." A azure helmet closed over her head, and she grew several feet taller and broadened out, her deep blue and violet-hued clothes changing to sky blue. A great rapier appeared in her hand, and she took a few steps back from the other Adept. "I am Sentinel, the guardian of Wind."

Sheba's mouth dropped open and she took a step back, shaking. "No way! We destroyed you!"

The massive warrior shook her head sadly. "The Sol Aurarius that I hold forbids me to die. You destroyed my physical body, and in doing so freed me from the cursed madness that the Golden Sun brings. Now, it is mine to control." She clenched her hand and there was a flash of gold, and then only Shamira, human once more, standing before her.

Sheba rubbed her hands together nervously. "So, no hard feelings, then?"

Shamira gave a half smile. "No. In fact, I should be thanking you. I'm free from that blasted madness." Her smile became fuller, now, and in fact a little laugh escaped her lips. "And don't worry. I can sense Anemos nearby…" She set to walking forward, up the incline of a steep hill. "The signature of a city of Adepts is hard to hide."

Sheba gave a weary sigh and started trudging after her. "So, Shamira. What are Anemosians like?"

Shamira turned her head back, but didn't stop walking. "Anemosians? We're the bravest, strongest, wisest, most feared and most beautiful clan in Weyard. We're so stealthy and silent, not even our shadows know where we are. People come by the thousands to come and seek our sagely advice; masters of masters come to train beneath us; kings send us gold and jewels to seek our friendship, and our enemies beg for our mercy and goodwill. Our warriors are as swift as the wind and as deadly as lightning, and the blood of Yegelos himself flows through the royal family. Venus Adepts wish they could be like us, Mercury Adepts take lessons from us in healing, Mars Adepts in war. In essence, the Anemosian is the perfect being."

Sheba sweatdropped. "An unbiased view, please?"

"You'll see," Shamira said, and grinned broadly.

They hill they were climbing was not just any hill. It curved away off in the distance, and there was a sudden lip at the top, marking a likely steep incline on the other side as well. The terrain was treacherous, as the loose dust that seemed to be the default soil on Luna made it easy for the rocks they stepped on to slide easily from beneath them. More than once, they slipped back down several yards, erasing their progress as well as dirtying their clothes.

After a good ten minutes of this, when Sheba was reduced to muttering curses under her breath, Shamira lost her patience. She jumped backwards down the slope and cast Volatilis, landing in the dust and springing upwards in quick succession. She swooped up behind Sheba and grabbed her under the armpits, and beat her wings furiously to get in the air.

Sheba bit back a scream. "Shamira, warn me when you're about to do that, okay?"

Shamira grunted in response. "Harder.. to fly… here. Gravity's less, granted… but air's thinner. Hang on, there's the edge." Shamira gathered her butterfly wings behind her, then pushed down for one last ascension. Sheba's dragging feet clipped the edge of the hill on the way by, and she yelped in pain.

The young blonde sighed. "You're a pain in the neck Sha- is that Anemos? Holy Jupiter, it's amazing!"

Shamira craned her head back to look towards the top. "It sure is…"

The slope they were climbing turned out to be nothing less than the lip of an immense crater, miles in diameter, with the sprawling metropolis of Anemos within. The inside walls of the crater were swept clean of any dust and polished to a mirror-like sheen. In the centre of the crater stood a towering pagoda, a building in the Eastern style. It had a square base maybe a thousands yards across, and countless floors, each marked with a gabled and arched roof. At the very top was a great spire of steel, from which lightning continually crackled and occasionally leapt down to strike the surface. Its top stood level with the lip of the crater, which was in itself almost a mile deep.

Wires came down from varying levels of the tower, roosting themselves in similar spires inside the crater. These spires stood on towers similar to the old divumi, and were packed so densely the glassy surface of the crater was mostly hidden behind a veritable forest of pillars, which were aligned in neat, precise rows.

And, flitting like butterflies from platform to platform and back to the tower, were the Anemosians. Here, in seclusion from the rest of Weyard, Volatilis was openly used. Beforehand, it was considered one of the elite techniques of the Jupiter Clan, and few even knew of its existence.

Sheba could do nothing but stare in awe. She always imagined what her homeland would be, and who her people were. But she never thought that the Anemosians would look like angels.

The seemed hardly terrestrial at all. They wore light, almost translucent robes of a white material, with a close fitting violet undergarment beneath that was barely visible. For the most part, they were of small slender statue with wispy, cloud-like hair, in varieties of ashen blonde and purple. Their eyes gleamed with psynergy, and their features were slight and almost elvish.

Someone in the myriad city of Anemos was playing a haunting panpipe, and as the high tune floated through the air, Sheba and Shamira closed their eyes, and just listened. The song was mournful, and longing, speaking of the Anemosian's imprisonment, and their desire to be with the land they loved most once again. To see Adepts other than those of Jupiter's elements, and yes, even experience hardship, war, all those things that make life the challenge it is. For all their gratitude to Luna for sheltering them, the longing for Atteka was great.

The last notes of the wind instrument drifted away, and the two Jupiter Adepts slowly opened their eyes to see several Anemosian rapiers pointed at their throats, with a cautious curiosity in the eyes of the Anemosians surrounding them.

"Who are you, and how did you come to Anemos, city of the clan of Jupiter?" The one in the lead said to them, the rapier quivering just beyond Shamira's throat.

The Sentinel smiled coolly. "Have you forgotten me so soon, Stormgard? It's only been a mere thousand years. I think Shamira Skyshroud would have had a more amiably welcome back to her home city."

A gasp raced through the Anemosians around them, and there was a great shout of joy and surprise. Shamira embraced all her old friends and kissed them formally on the cheek, while Sheba stood on the fringes shyly.

"And who is this?" The Anemosian Ariel said, smiling warmly down on the young blonde.

"Sheba, ma'am!" She squeaked.

A collective gasp raced again through the Jupiter Adepts, and at once all eyes turned to the suddenly nervous Jupiter Adept. "What? Is it something I said?"

Ariel quickly recovered. "My lady. I think we should take you to the King of Anemos now, so look presentable."

The Anemosians circled the two confused Adepts and began weaving a complex pattern with their hands. A whirlwind sprung up around the two and lifted them into the air, carrying them effortlessly to the pagoda. Shamira frowned and looked outside the raging winds. "I can fly on my own, you know."

Ariel looked back at her through the screen of wind. "I know, but we cannot allow you to escape. You must be taken to the Anemosian King, where your fates will be decided."

"What?" Shamira said in outrage, and leapt at the barrier, only to be knocked back. "I am the Princess of Anemos! You can't do this!"

Ariel shook her head. "You are Princess no longer, Shamira. There is a new one, your replacement. You cannot abandon us for a thousand years and then come back and expect everything to be normal again, can you? Take it up with the king," she said, and whirled her hands 180 degrees, flinging them harshly through one of the pagoda's windows.

The two Jupiter Adepts, grumbling and groaning, got up and dusted themselves off, looking around the room they had entered. Wide windows on each of the eight sides of the building let in the soft glow of the outside light, and drapery made from the same misty material as the Anemosians robes closed off some of the windows. The floor was made from a glossy stone that reflected the light eerily, and gemstones sparkled in the curved dome of the ceiling. There were no noticeable doors, so the two supposed all Anemosians entered through the windows.

It was only then that they noticed the two people staring at them, their expressions of surprise mirroring Shamira's and Sheba's.

Sheba, presuming them to be the king and queen of Anemos, studied them intently. They were both wearing the same material robes as everyone else, mist-like and flowing, but these ones were dyed a deep hue, a fittingly royal purple. The sleeves of the Queen's robes continued past her hands and billowed lazily in the breeze, while the King's ended halfway down his arm. The hems of both of their robes brushed the floor, and were girded around their waist by a belt of gold. They wore modest crowns, simple silver circlets set with an opal in the front.

The Queen was slender, not quite short, and bore the appearance of a young woman in her late teens. Her green-hazel eyes were wide and teardrop-shaped, and her skin was pale, and though her lips bore no make-up they held a soft pink tinge. Her features were small and her ears bore the distinctive point that most Anemosians had, yet something was not quite Anemosian about her essence signature, Shamira found. Her hair was feathery and dusty blonde in colour, edging towards white, and was tied back in a high ponytail.

The King, on the other hand, was tall and burly yet held an air of sophistication. His muscles pressed against the thin robe, and thick blonde hair covered his arms. His hair was layered and medium length, but held the same characteristics as the Queen's: feathery, and dusty blonde. A gold pendant hung around his neck, with the figurine of a soaring bird hanging on his chest. His eyes were larger than normal, and were serious in their lavender colour. His ears showed the elvish point more than his wife's, and a gleaming sword hung at his waist, jewels studded into the hilt.

"Shamira," he breathed in a tenor voice that didn't match with his size. "I thought you long dead…"

Sheba looked up at her companion. "You two know each other? I mean, you were the princess, but for someone to live this long…"

Shamira shook her head. "I don't think so. Your Majesty," she said, anger building in her voice. "I protest my treatment when I returned to Anemos! Thrown in here like some common prisoner! What's your name?"

A smile cracked across the king's features. "Don't recognize me, Shammie?" Her eyes widened at her old nickname that she hated so much, and the king continued, touching his hand to his heart. "I'm hurt that you don't know your own brother," he said, and the smile became somewhat sad.

"Skies, storms, and Jupiter's breath," Shamira said in awe. "Faris… you've grown so much…"

"And you haven't changed in the slightest," King Faris said affectionately, and Shamira ran to him and hugged him tightly.

"Earth be damned," Shamira said unbelievingly. "You're taller than me now…"

"Less swearing, Shammie," Faris scolded amiable. The Queen made a light cough, and the King flinched. "Sorry, dear. This is Queen Alethea, my beautiful wife."

Shamira let go suddenly and back away. "A-alethea?" She said in shock, and looked at the other woman with amazement. "The daughter of Scythia and Calathur?"

"Who are they?" Sheba asked quietly.

"The last of the Luna and Sol Adepts," the Queen responded, in a soft voice like a breeze through the reeds. "And… my parents, yes."

"Sol and Luna Adepts…" Sheba said, dazed.

"So," Shamira said to the Queen, "the armoured figure who abducted you so many centuries ago was an agent of Anemos?"

"Yes," she responded. "I was foreseen to be the next Queen, though we were both only children then. Ours was a marriage arranged by his mother, the late Queen Celia."

"Late?" Shamira said, shocked. "Mother's dead!"

"Yes." A new voice rang from outside. An armoured figure flew in from a nearby window, and Shamira recognized it as the agent of Anemos that abducted Alethea. And from the nervous glance that the Queen gave the newcomer, she knew it, too.

"Ah, Skye," Faris said pleasantly. "Good of you to join us."

"Skye?" Shamira said in a deadpan voice. "You know, I should be surprised and overjoyed here, but somehow nothing shakes me anymore." She turned to Sheba, who had remained silent through the entire conversation. "Sheba, meet Skye, the 'old friend' I told you about earlier."

The Anemosian warrior removed her helmet and shook out her violet hair, grinning. She looked much the same as well, except for a few new and rather nasty-looking scars, but to all intents and purposes she appeared approximately thirty years of age. "Sheba, eh?" She said, shooting a sidelong glance at the Royal Couple beside her. "Pleased to meet you," she said airily, and waved.

Shamira wrung her hand in frustration. "Someone, tell me. How did Mother die?"

Faris looked ruffled. "More important, I think, is how in Jupiter's name did you pass the centuries unchanged, outside of Anemos, when everyone thought you were dead?"

"That's…" Shamira said nervously. "That will take a while to explain."

"Then allow me to show you, more or less, how Mother died." The King turned around and walked to one of the windows, pushing aside the drape and tugging out a large jewel, about the size of his fist. It was clear and colourless, and light shone through it and split into a rainbow on the other side.Shamira gasped.

"What is it?" Sheba asked, fascinated by the trinket.

"It's a bloody amplifying crystal! Faris, how the hell did you get one of those!"

He smiled smugly. "Amplifying crystals are found naturally on Luna, which explains why they are so rare on Weyard: only the occasional meteor crashing into the moon would dislodge them."

"They're pretty, sure, but what do they do?" Sheba asked again, feeling a little left in the dark.

"Legend has it they increase the power and range of your Psynergy immensely." Shamira said in awe. "The last recorded amplifying crystal was held by Gazimonus, and apparently fell with him into Mount Aleph."

"Gazimonus?" Sheba inquired curiously.

"The first Lord of Luna, ancestor of Regnoare," Skye explained darkly.

"My ancestor as well, through my mother's side," the Queen spoke up quietly.

Prepare to Reveal.

The mental message was strong and insistent, vague echoes of it following the words until they faded into silence. It was the voice of Faris, and they looked to see him holding a finger to the amplifying crystal, casting Mind Read. Without opening his eyes, he explained. "I have just sent a message to the entire city. In a few moments, you should see why Mother died."

There was a pause, and then all over Anemos, Reveal fields sprang into existence, accompanied by small flashes. "Amplifying crystals," Faris explained, and the two newcomers to Anemos watched speechlessly as the countless Reveal fields grew, merging with each other until all of Anemos was the hazy black-and-white that one sees in Reveal. More flashes sparked at the rim of the crater, sending beads of light out into the wasteland. Every so often, there was another flash as a bead hit another amplifying crystal in its path, slowly but surely extending the Reveal until it reached the very horizons.

What was revealed was, simply put, true hell.

Gone were the curious 'dandelions' and the dust. Gone were the picturesque peaks framed against the sky, and rolling hills.

The ground was a churning, viscous mass of indigo liquid, erupting in gouts of black-violet and sloshing in 'currents' to form whirlpools, waves, and sometimes crystallizing into grotesque shapes that dissolved a second later.

Razes of crimson flame blasted through the necroneous fluid, creating flares stories high before dying away suddenly. The fire inscribed random patterns in the ooze, shapes that were both beautiful and unnatural.

As Sheba and Shamira watched in morbid fascination, a section of the indigo mass stopped moving and began to swell into a massive bubble, changing in colour to an oily green-yellow. It grew to a mammoth size and then burst, sending the miasmal fluid flooding back into its position and spewing the bubble's contents across a vast area. The greasy green discharge flew straight for Anemos, and the two newcomers couldn't help but yelp as it suddenly splattered against an invisible barrier, and dripped down to the barrier's source from the crater's rim.

"Behold," Faris said softly. "The true face of Luna: the necroslag, as we call it. Sears the soul of life itself, and is poison to Adepts such as we."

"Oh dear Jupiter…" Shamira said, covering her mouth with her hand. A serpent-like monster had emerged from the murk, two fanged mouths side by side at the end of its snake body. Even though it was a great distance away and thus hard to judge accurately, the part exposed alone had to be several hundred feet long. Glowing red eyes lined the sides of its body, and they blinked in random order, gleaming with a dull malice. It raised its body even highly from the slag, protruding a green tentacle from its mouth and 'tasting' the air.

Suddenly, it gave a banshee-like shriek of pain, and even muffled by the barrier the five had to clap their hands to their ears to stifle it. It writhed, and bobbed once, twice, before falling limp and floating, dead in the ooze. As it began to sink beneath the surface, something grabbed it and began hauling it at blinding speed towards the horizon, leaving churning foam in its wake. Apparently, something even larger than itself got to it.

Shamira and Sheba felt twin urges to vomit. There was something about this dark landscape that was innately repulsive to human beings, something so utterly unnatural that it screamed Luna! with every moment, every beat of the vorpal mass, every explosion of dark fire.

"This, this dark hellhole that we have been living in for almost one thousand years," Faris said bitterly. "This is what took mother's life, when she, Jupiter keep her, cast Reveal to investigate an interesting rock formation. We could only watch in horror as she sank into this blasted necroslag with hardly a whisper. We never saw her again."
"Not sure what happened, we were shocked so see invisible things tear our citizens apart. And when some of us tried to Reveal them, they suffered the same fate."
"After days of scrambling away from these things, bereft of Reveal, we happened upon this crater you see now. We sheathed the inside of the bowl with materials brought with Anemos, which proved to resist Reveal's effect and remained material. We finally transferred every citizen from the old city, which had become a den of beasts, to this new one. We built the pagoda and planted our plants nearby around the city, where they eventually grew to dot the whole landscape. They, anchored in reality as they were, were not harmed by the spiritual world of reveal. As our population grew, we expanded one by one into other craters, and now our cities dot this accursed world."
"We found amplifying crystals during our rare forays into the Barrens, and with them we were able to strengthen our defences. This… existence… is why all of us, to a one, wish to return to Weyard, despite having the luxury of long life here: every one hundred years that pass on Weyard, our bodies only experience one. Which is both a blessing… and a curse."
He turned and looked at Shamira meaningfully. "Which brings us to our next question. How the hell did you manage to live so long?"

Shamira grimaced, and raised her hand to her forehead. A violet aura surrounded her and then faded, save for around her hands, which remained faintly luminous. "Experience it yourself," she said, and brushed the glowing hand against her brother's head.

In a space of a few seconds, Faris learned all that happened after Anemos left Weyard.

Zelexseon, the Ascending Calamity, the traveller between the worlds. The unsteady relationship he forged with the Fivefold, and his heroic sacrifice to try to stop Regnoare once and for all.

The last Lighthouse sealed, and the new Weyard without Alchemy.

The Elemental Djinn, and the sealing of the Stars.

The Valean Council.

The last quest of the mortal Fivefold.

Shamira's mortal encounter with Catastrophe. And the resulting millennium of isolation as Sentinel, the sleepless guardian of the summon.

Shamira separated her hands and placed one hand on Skye's head, and another on Alethea's, bestowing the same information on them.

All three rocked back, their brains reeling to absorb all the images and information given to them. They fell back, gasping for breath, and then as one stood and looked at Shamira.

She spread her arms in supplication. "Now, you know who I really am." Shamira said, making a half bow. "I have come through the world of the summons, through near death and back, and through the Dim Age, to deliver this message: Anemos. Time to return."

Faris gave a half smile. "I've been waiting to hear that for a long time. But… we have one more revelation for you, that concerns our silent newcomer, Sheba." He smiled affectionately, and the small girl smiled back hesitantly. "Truth be told, we of Anemos have not entirely severed our links with Weyard. On the contrary, we have fulfilled a prophecy made long before: that a child of Anemos will one day save the world by unleashing the power that another child of Anemos once sealed. We," Faris said, reaching over and looping an arm around his wife's waist, "did our part to fulfill that. Approximately twenty-five years ago, we had a child, whom we loved very much. And when it came time for that child's destiny, the role that she had to play in the prophecy, to be fulfilled, we parted with her in great sadness, though she was physically only under a year of age."

"Ah, what a noble lineage she has, of which she is more or less unaware of. On her mother's side, Scythia the Fair Luna, brother of Regnoare, and Calathur, hero of Atavia, both royal families. On her father's, the Royal Family of Anemos, and one of the Fivefold herself as her father's sister. What power and mystery flows in her veins!"

It was then that Faris looked her straight in her eyes and said: "Sheba Skyshroud, descended to Weyard as a Child of the Gods, who would mature and someday unleash Alchemy for the world's salvation."

Sheba's eyes kindled with a euphoric joy and surprise. "Then, my origins, the parents I've been searching for all these years…?"

Faris spread his arms. "Welcome home, my daughter."

Sheba, tears flowing down her cheeks, ran forward and embraced her father at last. Hesitantly, Alethea put an arm around her as well, and kissed the top of her head softly. "Sheba…" was all she said, but it said plenty. At last, she was reunited with her parents.

Skye looked on, smiling, as the family embraced each other, heedless of their surroundings. She chanced a glance at Shamira, just in time to see the warrior faint to the ground as a result of this latest revelation. Skye smiled wryly, and reached into her armour to draw out her own amplifying crystal.

Cities of Anemos across Luna. This is the Sword of Jupiter, Wing-General Skye speaking. I am very pleased to give you the message you've all been wanting to hear:
Anemos. Return."

Deep within the darkness of Morxez, things were stirring in preparation for war. For the first time in living memory, every will o' wisp was alight, spilling their ghastly blue light over the dark city. Massive forges burned brightly, and burly demons could be heard shouting curses as they hammered away at red-hot metal. Mantrak, the accursed soldiers of old, could be seen milling throughout the city, going about their business with characteristic single-mindedness. Behemoths shuffled slowly through far off barrens near the horizon, hauling tons and tons of materials for the forgers to work on.

Far above it all, the Eternal Necromancer himself stood, robes swishing around his skeletal frame. At his side stood his new protégé, who was outfitted in a similar hooded cloak with a breastplate of navy blue leather clapped over it. His newly-discoloured hair was tied back in a long ponytail, the black streaks melding with the natural blue like some carnival candy cane. The distinctive black markings on his face contrasted harshly against his pale skin, and his eyes held signs of faint irritation as he stood beside his lord.

After being revived by the Necromancer, he had functioned for hours only like a zombie, in a dream-like state. As his soul began to reconnect to his body, though, he was able to regain more and more of his former intelligence and will. However, to his immense disgust, he soon discovered he was bound to this blasted skeleton's every command, thanks to that old Luna word of binding placed on him: EMPTHGADO. Mercury, did he hate that.

The bag of bones didn't seem to mind his mental discord at all, though. Free will is the hallmark of a living being, he said to him once, and went on to say beings able to make their own decisions and judgements were far more useful than the multitude of monsters he already possessed, most of which were merely golems, artificial creatures held up only be his will.

"Well, Alex?" The skeleton said to him, pride in his voice. "What do you think of our army?" That was another odd habit of the black Adept's, Alex thought. He referred to everything as belonging to both himself and Alex, and the Imilian couldn't tell if he was serious or simply mocking him. At any rate, the monster was staring at him with those fireball eyes, waiting for a response.

"It is… wonderful, milord," Alex said, gritting his teeth.

The carcass laughed his grisly laugh. "It would be unstoppable, but for those blasted interfering bastard children, the Fivefold," he spat. "They, each already holding massive power own their own, are rallying Weyard against us even as we speak."

"Fivefold?" Alex said, catching the enunciation in his master's tone. "Aren't those the heroes who sealed Alchemy?"

"Yes!" The skeleton hissed. "Because of them, my…" He stopped suddenly, and cursed. Alex, intrigued, opened his mouth, but the skeleton continued, furious. "Alex! I believe it is time we sent our greetings to our friendly neighbours up above," he made a vague gesture above his head. "Alex, choose the courier." He swept his raised hand down at the army, and dropped it.

If there was another habit of his master's that Alex hated, it was his habit of speaking in complex metaphors. Why couldn't he simply say 'Choose something to attack the warriors with?'

Scowling, Alex surveyed the demon horde below him, until a flurry of movement caught his eye. He traced it to one of the abominations, and his stomach did a flop as he studied the monster closely. It was sickening, and seemed to be trying to eat a smaller monster. The Mantrak were keeping the two beasts apart, and punishing the larger monster with whips.

"How about that one?" Alex said, pointing. "It seems to be quite rowdy."

The skeleton bowed at the waist, leaning forward as if the meagre foot gained would help in his inspection. "Yes, yes. Good choice, Alexander."

Alex's face burned, and he scowled. "Milord," he said, emphasizing the word just enough to make it not quite an insult. "For all our loving relationship, I still don't have the pleasure of knowing your name."

The bony figure turned his gaze on his subordinate, his 'expression' thoughtful. "You're right. How rude of me! Call me… call me…" he trailed off with a whisper, and for a moment Alex wondered if it was possible for age-old skeletons to become senile. "Call me Demante," he said cheerfully, pronouncing dee – mawn – tay. "Yes, Demante," he said, more to himself this time, and chuckled.

"What's so humorous, Demante?" Alex said mockingly.

He coughed and waved a thin hand in front of his face. "Nothing. Send the word to the abomination."

Alex nodded, and opened up a mental conduit to the army. One of the advantages to being the lieutenant was a commanding bond with the demon horde, though listening to the grunts and complaints of the various forces could be trying at times.

He relayed the message to the disfigured creation, and faced the newly named skeleton. "Well, master. In the meantime, what shall we do?"

"Wait and see, my dear Alex. Don't worry your pretty little head about it," he said, in a not-so-reassuring way. He pinched the man's cheek affectionately, his halloween fingers smelling faintly of rot and ancient crypts. "Just let Demante take care of anything, and you won't have to worry about fighting those nasty Adepts upstairs," he cooed.

Mercury, Alex thought fervently. Delivereth me from the hands of my enemies, and get me the hell away from talking skeletons who, in addition to being a physical impossibility, are just as insane as the idea.

I miss Mia. I miss my freedom. Mercury, when will this end?