Sorry about the long wait, everyone, but I had the most killer case of writer's block ever towards the end of the summer, and then with school coming, I almost died. TT But I finally present you with Chapter 4 of Pleiades. Enjoy, but first, review responses!

Waeyon-thunderlord,
Hehe, it had –better- be good. You know how much of a headache I earned trying to think of a logical way to have all the normal parts of a moon – phases and days and nights – on something that revolved around a flat earth, with the sun revolving too? Try to figure that one out. Not fun.I suppose I didn't really update 'soon', did I? ;; But thanks for the review!

Lynn the Pirate Queen,
Hey there matey D I had been planning the Sheba/Anemos scene forever, seems like, so it hard better be good. And yes, I love writing Alex. He's so funny. Thanks for the review!

Saint Jimmy,
Thanks, man. I didn't think it was even that funny, but I'm glad you did. It had better be better than Fivefold Star, otherwise that would mean I'm going backwards, wouldn't it? ;;
And I can assure you, Alex is sorely tempted to kill Demante. Or try to. But anyway, thanks for the review!

HEY,
Scythia, Regnoare's brother? Oy… how could I miss something like that… ;; thanks for letting me know. Also, of course, thanks for the review! Soon. Heh… sheepish

Zelexseon,
Haha, definitely. The Alex/Demante dynamic is so fun for me to write, and I'm going to try to include them more often: just to give our villains a more substantial feel to them. Thanks for the review!

Golden Sun Smiley,
Ha, yeah, I was thinking of the pronunciation thing when I wrote that part, and also because Demante is pronounced pretty far from how it looks phonetically D Thanks for the review!

Beta the Second,
Heh, I didn't really look at it that way, but now that you mention, that's true. Tres creepy indeed. But hey, I'd think it would be pretty neat having an immortal guardian to watch out for you, hm? Thanks for the review!

readergirl-290,
Yeah, I know what you mean. The way I see it, is if it was intention that Sheba fell to Weyard, would they just send any old baby, or would the send someone important and worthy of such a momentous task? Questions, questions.
Thanks for the review, and I hope you enjoy this chapter as much. D

And with that, responses are tout finis. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, and without further ado, here's the next chapter!

Disclaimer: The Golden Sun world and all characters within are copyright of Camelot and Nintendo, etc.

Chapter 4

Festivale

"Well, I guess this is goodbye for now…" Shamira said, a little woozy after her faint.

It was a short while later, and the citizens of Anemos were sorting through their possessions, packing for the return trip to Weyard. The five high born Jupiter Adepts stood beside the window, surveying the countryside that was so much more innocent without Reveal. "You will be okay on your own, won't you?" she asked, looking from her brother to Skye.

Faris snorted. "Of course we will. We've done just fine before without your exalted presence, my dear Shamira," he said sarcastically. Then his gaze softened. "Do take care, though, of yourself and little Sheba."

Hearing the pet name, Sheba's temper flared. "I am not Little Sheba!"

Faris grinned. "Sorry. It's just the last time I saw you, you were just a little one," he said wistfully, and then grinned again. "Just to make sure… are you positive you won't be coming with us?"

"Yes," Shamira replied. "You can make yourself at home at Contigo without us… we have work to do."

"You can talk to Master Hama," Sheba added. "She's a Jupiter Adept, and a descendant of Yegelos." She frowned. "Or so she says. But if you're all up here, how is that possible? Is she from Anemos as well?"

Faris and Skye exchanged looks. "Actually… a good deal of our population didn't want to remain on Luna. Even some of the Royal Family was of this opinion… mostly cousins and such. Well, they went back to Weyard on their own. It's quite possible that this Hama is one of their descendants," Faris said, a tad sheepishly.

Then Ivan, too… Sheba mused.

"So," Skye said, changing the subject. "The distance between Luna and Weyard is too great to simply Teleport at whim, without something to increase the range and power of the spell. No, not an amplifying crystal," she laughed, seeing Shamira's hungry glance. "We will all be journeying to the Teleport pad in Old Anemos… you'll be coming too, of course."

Shamira smiled. "I'd love to. Sheba, are you ready to leave?" she asked the smaller Adept.

She knows we don't have anything to bring, Sheba thought, so she must be asking if I'm ready to part with my homeland yet. "I don't think so. Is it okay if, before we leave, I travel around Anemos and see the sights, talk to everyone?"

Faris nodded. "Of course, if it's okay with your mother." He looked over at Alethea, who smiled and nodded.

Sheba felt a glow of happiness at that. It was so novel, hearing the words mother and father in relation to her! It was her lifelong dream come true…

"Some of the citizens can only speak Anemosian, so you may have to communicate mentally sometimes," Skye added. "And… it's hard to get around with flying, isn't it?" She asked with a meaningful glance at Shamira.

"Um, what?" Skye coughed, pantomimed wings flapping with her hands, and Shamira got it. "Ohhh… yes."

The two warriors stood on each side of Sheba, and they each grabbed one of her hands. The petite blonde wore an expression of confusion and curiosity as the two began to glow with a violet aura. A trail of sparkles flowed from the two Anemosians into her body, and Sheba felt the unique sensation of learning new Psynergy, as if one's mind is being opened.

Skye smiled. "There. You should know Volatilis now. Try it out; but don't get lost!"

With a euphoric and slightly silly grin, Sheba cast the Psynergy spell and gasped as the wings appeared on her back. They were a ghostly tinge of lavender, laced with peculiar streaks of emerald. She flapped them experimentally, and then jumped out the window with a cry of joy, and took off into the city.

The others simply smiled.

Maris and Kraden sat facing each other, a map of Weyard and a piece of Suhallan papyrus between them. A pot of ink served as a weight to stop the paper from blowing away, and Maris tucked the quill behind her ear as the two Adepts reviewed. Kraden was utilizing his scholarly memory to remember all the capable Adepts they had encountered on their quest, to the end of creating a reasonable path for each group of psynergists to take. Aleos, Orior, and Cinaed were off to the side a bit, discussing quietly amongst themselves, while the Adepts from this age returned to their homes to gather their equipment and say goodbye to their families, or in some cases write letters to those who didn't live in Vale.

The Imilian lifted up the scroll and studied it closely, reading over the names that were written in her neat and flowing script:

Jupiter: Feizhi at Xian, Hama at Lama Temple (Contigo?), and Master Maha at Garoh.
Mercury: Lumerians, Hydros!
Venus: Susa, Kushinada, and Uzume.
Mars: Proxians.
Unknown alignment: Lunpa.

Maris nodded and handed it to Kraden. "Looks simple enough," she said. "The Jupiter, Mercury, and Venus groups could travel together to the east, drop by Xian, cross the mountain chain over to the Champa port, and from there Jupiter would split off to go to Garoh and then Contigo. Mercury and Venus can travel together until it comes time to split and go to Lumeria and Izumo, respectively. Mars can travel with them for a short while, until it comes time to split off and go to Imil, where they can travel along the Spine of Angara to Prox. You, Master Kraden, will have to split immediately and go to Kalay, then Tolbi."

She took a breath, and picked up the map of Weyard. "But my, the world sure has changed a lot since back in the day…"

Kraden looked at her wondering face curiously. "Are you referring to the Golden Age?" He nodded to himself, and answered his own question. "You must be, for the only time the world was considerably different was then. Except for the Great Flood, maybe."

Maris nodded hesitantly. "Yes, the Golden Age. So, do you like our little planning so far?"

Kraden looked from their list, to the map, and back again. "I believe it will do fine," he reassured her. He heard crunching footsteps approaching from behind, and turned around to the smiling face of Piers, who held a pack straining at the stitches. "Back already, Piers?"

"Yes," the Lumerian replied calmly. "Since I am going to my homeland, I have no need to write a letter or say goodbye to anyone. I simply had to gather my equipment," to prove his point, he upended the pack and dumped out all his stuff:

There was a Mythril Blade, glimmering in the light, paired beside a shining Masamune; a Crown of Glory, the studded gem glowing with an inner lustre; a pair of Riot Gloves; a shining Mythril Shirt; a pair of green Hyper Boots and a Running Shirt.

He looked with faint distaste at the scattering of artefacts. "I know these are all necessary, but I look ridiculous with everything equipped."

Maris' eyes widened as she looked over the rare items, one in particular catching her eye. She rolled onto her knees and was reaching for it when she remembered her manners. "May I see this, Piers?" She asked politely, indicating the item.

The Lumerian couldn't help but give an amused smile. "Certainly, Maris."

"Thank you," she replied, and wrapped her hand around the katana's hilt. There was no mistaking that flawless curve, and though it had plainly seen better days, Maris could remember the many times she had seen its phosphorescent trail slice the sky.

"Aleos!" She called, holding the Masamune aloft. "Remember this?"

To say an expression of surprise crossed the Wise One's face would be an understatement. He was shocked, immediately breaking off from his conversation and running over, taking the razor-sharp blade reverently from Maris' hands. "Piers, where did you find this…?" he breathed, his eyes glowing from the mirror-like blade.

Piers looked at it, surprised. "We found it in the small town of Yallam, in a treasure chest. We asked Sunshine about it, and he said Yepp found it in the shallows on one of his diving trips around the Sea of Time."

"Just where we were parted…" he said in a whisper, and gave a scolding chuckle. "It was there the whole time, for a thousand years."

"Is there something special about this blade?" Piers asked, curious.

Aleos stood, and flicked a thumb against the edge of the blade, was satisfied to see it slice his skin, and as he cast a minor healing spell to seal the wound, he nodded. "Yes. This is the Masamune, the sword once wielded by Argyros the Great, founder of Vale and my ancestor. It was torn from me during a.. certain battle, and I never imagined I'd see it again."

"Then it rightfully belongs to you," Piers said, surprised, and then a serious expression formed on his face. "Go on, keep it."

Aleos glanced up at the Mercury Adept with a look of contempt. "I intended to."

"Aleos!" Maris gasped. She smacked him upside the head. "Show some proper manners! Or have you been 'the Wise One' for too long and forgotten yourself?" She hissed into his ear, so only he heard.

"… You are right," Aleos said, averting his eyes. "I apologize."

Maris folded her arms. "Don't apologize to me, apologize to Piers!"

Aleos nodded and faced the Lumerian. "I am sorry, Piers. May I take this sword?" He asked formally.

"You don't have to apologize, it is your weapon." Piers said firmly. "Besides, I never liked using a katana. The Mythril Blade suits me more, anyway."

"Hmm," Aleos said, and prodded the weapon. He frowned. "The spirit's gone… but yet there's still an unleash?" He asked the male Mercury Adept.

"Yes, Rising Dragon," was the response.

"Rising Dragon," the silver-haired man mused. "Maybe it was corrupted by the water, losing its unalignment and thus its true power… yes, it's possible. Maris," he said, turning to her.

"Yes?" She replied cheerily.

"Does Leviathan still inhabit your weapon?"

She frowned. "I haven't checked," she withdrew the crescent-tipped staff from its sash on her side and shook it, blinking at the serpentine decoration expectantly. "No response, but he was always unreliable like this. I'll let you know if he shows up."

Kraden was bursting with excitement at what these people passed for chitchat: talk of legends and heroes as if these were everyday things. He adjusted his glasses and picked up a charcoal pencil and a piece of paper, ready to take notes.

"Hello again," a voice greeted them peacefully. This time, they turned to see Mia walking towards them, wearing a sunny smile. Despite carrying a carefully folded package of items, the Mercury Adept still managed her customary dignified walk, and sat calmly between Kraden and Piers. She noticed Piers' equipment spread across the grass and opened her own pack as well, displaying an immaculate Clothos' Distaff, a faintly humming Psychic Circlet, a folded Iris Robe, a winged pair of Quick Boots, a Unicorn Ring, a Healing Ring, and a pair of Riot Gloves – for physical work, Mia explained.

"Mia, hello," Piers said pleasantly. "Will the others be along shortly?"

"I don't know, but I passed Ivan on the way here," she smiled. "I think he has a letter for you to deliver."

"That's right," the Jupiter Adept's slowly maturing voice said from behind them, its high pitch balanced by the ease and smoothness with which he spoke. He gently placed his pack of belongings beside Kraden, and withdrew a thick envelope. "I need to deliver a letter to Hammet in Kalay," he said aloud, and retrieved another letter. "As well as one to Hama, to let her know we're coming."

Maris smiled. "That's sweet. Umm…" she reached for the map again. "Aleos and Kraden will be travelling by Kalay. They can take the letters and group off Hama's to the Tolbi Post."

Ivan nodded, and handed the envelopes to Kraden. "Kraden, could you?"

The scholar beamed. "Certainly, Ivan." He took the letters as if they were worth a thousand pieces of gold and stowed them carefully in one of the many pouches of his cloak.

"So," Piers began conversationally. "What are you bringing on our journey, Ivan?"

"Only my favourites," he said slyly, and opened the pack. He drew out the phantasmal Swift Sword, a blade that could not be seen when swung; another Psychic Circlet to match Mia's; a Mythril Armlet; an Aeolian Cassock; Hyper Boots and a Spirit Ring.

As he and Piers began to discuss the advantages and disadvantages of each piece of equipment –through the innate Psynergy available to all Adepts that allows them to view the attributes of a weapon – Ivan suddenly remembered something and broke off. "Oh yes, I neglected to mention. The Valeans heard from Jenna and Cara about our journey, and are organizing a farewell banquet for us tonight. We're expected to attend."

Cinaed's Proxian ears pricked, and he turned away from his conversation with Orior. "You don't say? All of us?"

Maris rolled her eyes. "You just want the food, Cinaed." Her stomach growled, and he smiled sheepishly at the wide grin that appeared on the Mercury Adept's face. "Although, it has been a while since I had some Valean cooking. Umm… we can attend, right Ivan? I mean, technically speaking, we're outsiders." Aleos coughed. "Oh, except for you, Aleos."

"You are from Vale, Aleos?" Kraden asked, his eyes bright. Aleos glared but nodded, and the old scholar set his pencil to the paper and scribbled something. "Thank you."

Ignoring Kraden's interruption, Ivan answered Maris' question. "Yes. In fact, the Valean elders expressed their interest in having you attend specifically. They want to know a bit about you, and more about this quest we are undertaking."

Aleos let out a low growl. "Elders never change. They could never simply accept the fact that they couldn't know everything…"

Mia smiled. "But you will come, won't you?"

Maris clapped her hands excitedly. "We all will! See you later!"

Mia, Ivan, and Piers began to pack up their items again, and Aleos, Maris, Orior, and Cinaed nodded to each other, and left for the inn to get ready.

"The banquet is in the courtyard this evening! See you there!" Ivan called out, and they parted ways.

An outsider visiting Vale before and after the unleashing of Alchemy would have been completely bewildered by the total change. In the last stages of the Dim Age, Vale was a sleepy, watchful town, hostile to outsiders and ignorant of the real world.

In the new age, Vale was completely different. She opened her arms to travellers far out of her way, renewed old contracts with her neighbouring cities as far as Kalay and Imil, and flew into a frenzy of reconstruction and happiness. After Kraden and the eight returning heroes carefully laid out their evidence that lighting the Lighthouses was the right thing to do, and that the teachings of Vale were to prevent one man from gaining Alchemy and not protection against Alchemy itself, the elders grudgingly accepted it and allowed the warriors to dwell in Vale, with however great reluctance.

It didn't take long for the charisma of the eight Adepts to win over the heart and mind of the Valean people, and that four of their own citizens were a part of the group reassured them further. The smiles, confidence, and strength the eight gave off comforted any misgivings they might have had, and soon they all settled in like nothing had ever been between them in the first place.

Parties and grand events were the norm now in Valeriam, being held almost weekly. The citizens seemed delighted to take every opportunity to party, celebrating their steadily strengthening Psynergy in the Alchemic age, the complete reconstruction of another building, or even a particularly beautiful day.

And so it came as no surprise that when a rumour began circulating around Vale that group of people appeared to whisk their heroes off on another adventure, the people of Vale immediately sprang to work, organizing a private banquet for friends and family of the heroes, and then afterwards a party: full of dancing and fireworks and lots of drinking, all the things Valeans loved the most. Afterwards, everybody would go to sleep at an ungodly early hour, only to wake up early to see them off. Thus within is held the entirety of the new Valean tradition: dancing, drinking, and adventuring.

The preparations for this banquet were being made. The courtyard, a pristine field with a moat-encircled Psynergy stone in the middle, was cleared of all debris and cleaned immaculately. Streamers were tied between the trees on the edges and the Psynergy stone in the middle, creating a look that said 'carnivale'. The grass was newly cut and the stones swept, making it ideal for dancing. A cluster of Valeans stood in the shadow of the weaponshop, holding various kinds of musical instruments and practicing, tuning them until they were at the perfect tone.

The cliff overlooking this area was likewise being dressed up, being washed down by Mercury Adepts until it shone like a white beacon. On the grassy summit, an enormous table courtesy of the Jerra household was slowly being wheeled out and set up, with chairs of varying sizes being placed around it. It was a truly massive table, fitting to accommodate the equally large invite list to the private dinner.

Invited were the Great Healer; Isaac, Dora, and Kyle; Felix, Jenna, Olive and Frank; Cara, her sister Krile and her father Gareth. The new Mayor, Keith, his wife Janice, his parents Murphy – the former Mayor of Vale, who retired shortly after the heroes returned, citing that the new age was not for him - and Ethel, and the Mayor's children, Kay, Garet, and Aaron.

Aside from the modern Valeans, there was Ivan, Sheba, Piers, Mia, Kraden, and the mysterious strangers that arrived at Vale: Aleos, Maris, Cinaed, and Orior. Though Kraden knew that Aleos was the Wise One, the Void Adept strictly instructed him not to breathe a word of it, to avoid complications.

The group of Adepts filed slowly in from all sides of Vale, continuing the own conversations, which gently died down to a respectful murmur as everyone took their seats. As the Mayor seated himself, Aleos sauntered up and whispered a few words in his ear. The Mars Adept nodded and shouted to bring another chair, a command that was quickly answered as a passing Valean nodded and walked away, to return a short while later with chair. At the silver-haired man's gesture, he set it between the designated chairs of Ivan and Sheba.

Aleos returned to his seat, and as the last Adept sat the Mayor stood. "I have been informed," he began in his deep, authoritative voice. "That two of our guests will not be able to arrive on time, but they will be joining us later, so we are to proceed without them," a glance of confirmation to the side, and a discreet nod from a certain warrior confirmed his statement.

"So, for the reason we're here…" he paused, and gestured to the Adepts seated at the table. "Is to see our heroes off, on another adventure. Though I'm not so sure about letting Garet go again," he said, and took a breath. "I'm confident they will do the right thing. So let's do what's expected of us and give them a grand send off!" He finished, and pumped his mug of ale into the air, the foamy liquid sloshing over the sides. He sat down to cheers from the others, breathing a little heavily, being unused to making such speeches.

His head bowed slightly under the weight of his crown, the Great Healer rose next, and immediately a hush fell over the assembled. He clasped his hands in front of his robes, and slowly around the table everyone followed suit, the Valeans more readily then the others, being accustomed to this tradition.

"We are gathered here today," the venerable old man murmured, "to see off a group of heroes, who were willing to go against the will of the Wise One and fire the Elemental Lighthouses. However, in the long run, we cannot know if the actions they made were right, or just. In the future, wars may be waged over this, and our descendants may curse our decision to lift the darkness that covered our land." The eight heroes exchanged glances at this, and Cara frowned disapprovingly. "On the other hand, they did what they could. We can only hope that in their new journey, the Wise One will forgive them and watch over them, keeping them safe on behalf of the Elemental Gods."

More than you know, Great Healer, Aleos thought silently.

"Now, as we partake in this farewell meal, let our patron gods, goddesses, and the Spirits bless this event, and wish good fortune on those in danger." He raised his head to the sky with some effort, and then seated himself.

There was a moment of silence, pierced by a ringing shout. "Now, let's eat!" Garet broke into a broad grin, and began heaping his plate. Jenna rolled her eyes, and would have elbowed him if he were within reach. Instead, she contended herself with simply applying restraint and placing food on her plate as delicately as she could.

With the solemn mood broken, the festive atmosphere soon returned, with chatter and laughter filling the air, accompanied by the clinking of glasses and silverware. Various conversations soon formed around the table, some more exuberant than others.

"I tell you, Felix! I simply cannot wait to visit Tolbi on my own leisure! It will be so nice to see everybody without Saturos breathing down my neck, and there was a few projects I left unfinished when I came to Vale…"

"… Cara, is there any cute boys you have your eye on around her in Vale? 'Cause I'm sure there are plenty of single guys you'll meet on your journey who'll be interested in you! You're really pretty!" Maris beamed, a mischievous glint in her eye.

"T-thanks, I think." Cara squirmed, uncomfortable.

"What do you think, Krile?" Maris asked, wearing a devious smile. "Should your sister find a boyfriend?"

"Yeah!" The little girl piped up. She was a miniature of Cara in almost every way, except for her maturity and the bow she wore in her hair. At thirteen, she was a cheery girl just starting to discover what it meant to be a teenager. "That would be so romantic!" She said, miming a swoon. "He would be tall and dreamy and…"

"…asking for some cookies again yesterday. By Cybele, they're all like bottomless pits."

Ivan nodded, rolling his eyes. "I know how that is. My Jupiter Djinn are all the same way. You know, you should really consider…"

"…you tried this chicken yet?" Jenna said, reaching for another slice of white breast meat.

Mia blinked. "No, I haven't. Should I?"

"Yes, you definitely should!" Jenna answered enthusiastically. "It's great! Dora really outdid herself this time."

There was a cough somewhere to her right, and she turned to see Kay looking at her pointedly. "You made this, Kay? I'm really impressed! Last time I had your cooking I almost had to go see the Great Healer, it made me so sick!" She smiled sunnily before turning to talk to Mia, ignoring the indignant shout from down the table. "Say, Mia…"

"… you and Mia?" Piers snorted, cutting through his steak. "You two are as oblivious as a turtle in the Great Apojii stream when you're together."

Isaac swished his fork dismissively, before spearing a green bean with it. "No, I'm not saying to that extent. I was just wondering if you've considered finding a girlfriend yet?"

"I know who he likes!" Garet boomed from across the table, sending the chatter into silence as everyone dropped their silverware and watched with interest. He lifted his fork and pointed it haphazardly around the table at the girls, provoking a small squeak from a couple. "Piers is madly in love with… Dora!" He yelled, pointing the utensil triumphantly at the shocked and highly annoyed woman. His cry was cut short as twin clods of dirt burst across his face, the yellow auras fading from Isaac and Kyle as they lowered their hands, satisfied looks on their faces.

"So, Piers," Isaac resumed, grinning. "Who is it, really?"

Piers bent down over his plate, sprinkling some Koliman herbs over his potatoes. "I cannot tell you, just yet."

"I think I know who it is…" Isaac smirked.

"It's Sheba!" A sudden cry rang out, and Ivan leapt to his feet, pointing to the sky.

"Took them long enough." Aleos muttered, and stabbed at his beef with a vengeance. Beside him, Orior rolled his eyes.

"One would think you would have some patience by now, Aleos," the Lilyveran said quietly, reaching for an ear of corn. "This is a momentous occasion for the both of them. They should have taken as long as they need."

By this point, all eyes were on the two figures descending from the sky, or more accurately, on the two sets glimmering wings emerging from their backs.

They descended more or less gracefully into the two chairs assigned to them, between Aleos and the Great Healer. Their wings faded, the violet and smoky lilac of Shamira's wings and the lavender and emerald of Sheba's whisping away back to the wind.

Immediately, her concerned friends mobbed Sheba. Jenna pushed up front and stood speechless for a moment, gesturing wildly with her hands. Sheba watched with amusement as Jenna tried to deal with her conflicting emotions, but eventually the fiery Mars Adept came under control, and unleashed a torrent on the younger Adept.

"Where were you, Sheba! I thought you were just out for a walk! Then you make this dramatic entrance of descending from the sky on the most beautiful pair of wings – Mars, the only pair of wings – I have ever seen on a human!"

Sheba simply smiled, her eyes glowing. "I know my origins now," she said quietly, and only Jenna and Shamira were close enough to hear her.

Jenna realized the mood that the Jupiter Adept was in, and grew serious. "That's fantastic, Sheba," she said softly, and hugged her friend tightly. "You can tell me all about it later," she whispered. "But right now there's a feast to attend to." She stood back, smiling proudly.

Nice to see you again, Sheba, Ivan's voice said in her mind, and she turned to her fellow Jupiter Adept, who was smiling shyly.

And you, Ivan, she returned.

The Great Healer was staring at her, a queer expression on his face. While the others were busy celebrating with the newly discovered Anemosian, he was having some thoughts of his own.

So… this is what Alchemy grants. Humans with wings… not what the Gods intended for mankind, not at all.

Is unleashing this… Alchemy… really the right thing for us to have done? I had heard tales of the powers possessed by our ancestors, but I never really believed half the stories they wrote, of people who could produce gemstones by the hundreds, manipulate the weather to their will, and fly through the air. If one of these is true, are all of them? How much longer will it be before we have more power over Weyard than is good and well for us to have?

"Great Healer?" A voice suddenly broke into his thoughts, and Vale's elder noticed the Mayor leaning forward, a frown on his face as he investigated the Great Healer's pensive expression.

"Oh. I apologize, Mayor, my mind was somewhere else. Pardon me?"

"Oh, it's nothing. You looked distracted for a while, and I thought something was wrong." He gave a wide smile, and eyed the roast chicken before him hungrily. "Some feast we put together, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is," he responded, with a notable lack of enthusiasm. He stared down at his plate full of food glumly, and poked at it with his fork.

Meanwhile, Sheba was being pestered for a full account of where she went and what happened to her. Laughing, she held up her hands. "Everyone, okay! I'll fill you in later, okay? Right now, I'm really hungry," she eyed the food before her like a vulture.

Ivan smiled. "Try the corn, Sheba, it's pretty good." To prove his point, he asked Mia to pass him a plate of the vegetable, and he nimbly drew a cob of corn off the plate and set to it, hiding a grin.

Sheba giggled and rolled her eyes. "Yes, let's all break our teeth. Shamira, what would you recommend?" She asked, turning to the violet-haired woman beside her.

Shamira smiled, wondering at how quickly Little Sheba had come to trust her. Well… maybe she shouldn't be calling asking which food is best to be trusting, but all the same she was a lot more at ease.

She glanced condescending down at the blonde, and smirked. "Do you need Mommy to feed you?"

A grimace crossed Sheba's face. "Jupiter, why do you have to be so arrogant? I was just trying to be nice." She turned away, and reached for a pitcher of apple juice. It was just out of her reach, and try as she might, she could only brush the handle.

Without a word, Shamira extended her arm and nudged the decanter into her grasp. Sheba looked up at her in confusion. "Why did you..?"

Shamira shushed her, her eyes suddenly soft. "Don't worry about it, Little Sheba. I might be a bitch sometimes, but honestly I care," Sheba was a bit skeptical, but accepted the help and poured her glass of apple juice anyway. Shamira leaned forward, resting her forehead on the side of Sheba's head. "And I'd appreciate it if you didn't give away my true nature. Not just yet." She whispered.

Sheba scowled. "Get your head off mine, Shammie." The Sentinel rocked back as if burned, and glared. "And 'don't worry about it'. Your secret's safe with me," she mimed locking her mind and throwing away the key, but she wore a very insincere smile.

"As long as we're clear on that," Shamira said with a exasperated sigh, leaning back.

"Naturally," Sheba said nonchalantly, taking a sip of her juice.

The banquet lasted for a good deal longer, the conversations extending far after the food was consumed. The Fivefold became acquainted with the Valeans, and were more or less accepted as suitable guides for their children and friends on the new adventure. "You all give off a good impression, at least," Dora had said warmly. She had recovered from her illness shortly after Isaac and Kyle returned home, and Kyle would say fondly she was simply ill of a lonely heart.

Eventually, the Mayor stood and rapped his knuckles on the table to get their attention. The talk died away as eyes turned to him, and he cleared his throat. "Now that we've all eaten our fill… we'll take a short break of a few hours until the final preparations for this evenings dance and music are finished." He reached along the table for his mug of apple cider, and lifted it into the air. "So, friends, for one last toast. To preparation, to adventures, and the spirit of youth," so saying, he downed his cider in one gulp. The sound of everyone downing their drinks was echoed around the table, some – the menfolk most notably – finishing before the women.

"And now, everyone," Keith said, smiling. "I will see you at the festival!" Conversation resumed as everyone pushed back their chairs, smiling. With general cries of 'See you at the festival!', everyone went their own direction, to dress up for the dancing and to finish packing for the journey.

Where art thou, my shadow?

Alex was angry, and frustrated beyond belief. It was bad enough living in an open cavern with thousands upon thousands of putrid monsters and serving a satirical and most likely insane skeleton, but this was the last straw. He marched determinedly towards the medieval platform from which Demante observed the goings on of his army.

The tower was a rather gothic affair, a simple black structure with no decorations whatsoever, but planted strategically in the middle of Morxez to compensate. It was a black stone façade with the seams between the stones were clearly visible, and the interior staircase led out to what was no more than a stone roof to oversee the soldiers. A fancy architect, Demante was not.

Alex walked up the stairs, working on keeping his temperament. It would do no good to erupt at the necromancer, who would be more likely to laugh in his face than be intimidated. Nonetheless, he couldn't restrain himself from throwing open the trapdoor that led to the top, and stalked towards the skeleton, who's back was turned to him.

"Demante, I have had enough of your Mantraks' antics of insubordination and disrespect. If you don't do something to restrain your men, I might have to mete out punishment myself." The air temperature dropped a few degrees as punctuation to his point, and he glared frostily at his master.

For a moment there was no sound, only a faint scratching that barely reached Alex's ears. Demante made no notice of the Imilian, whether from ignorance or intention he didn't know, but he strongly suspected the latter. Alex's anger cooled, and curiosity grew within him. "What are you occupied so studiously with, master," Alex snapped, colouring the title with sarcasm. He leaned over the skeleton's shoulder: no easy task, as the necromancer was over seven feet tall. He rolled his eyes. "My, you do have a penchant for the morbid, don't you?"

Demante turned and grinned toothily at him. A piece of monster skin was stretched between his hands – at least, Alex hoped it was monster – and brown letters burned on the parchment, leaving off where its writer's attention was distracted. With nothing to say, Demante dipped the index of his bony finger into a pot of what appeared to be bubbling blood, perched precariously on the ledge. He put the tip of his finger to the skin, and finished his sentence with a flourish, and after a moment's thought made a quick smiley face at the end. He gave a satisfied huff, rolled up the sheet into a scroll, sealed it with a burst of fire to the lip – melting the flesh together, and handed it to Alex.

"Find someone to deliver this to the Overworld," he instructed. "And your troubles are noted."

Alex clenched his fists and snapped up the paper. Apparently, he wasn't worth listening to, and his happiness was unimportant when compared to a silly letter. From almost-lord of the world to running errands for a secluded old hermit, he thought bitterly, and stalked back through the tower in a bad mood, thrusting the scroll with a few hurried words into the hands of the first Mantrak he saw: one of his own unit, coincidentally enough.

His pageboy duty completed, Alex headed to his chambers and told his Mantraki guards that no one was to disturb him. They took the orders with a smirk and a bow of acceptance, opening the doors and let him in before crossing their crystal halberds over the entrance.

If there was one thing Alex liked about serving Demante - aside from it was an easy way to attain revenge on that bastard rock - it was his chambers. The walls were hung with blue silk over the cold stone walls, synthetically created from the saliva of a type of Abomination, one that spat the material. He had a bed of the softest material, and countless pillows. It even had a sky-blue canopy with transparent curtains designed with flowers. Alex was well aware that the feminine style of the room was no accident: Demante was making a subtle jab at him, trying to provoke him – Mercury knows why.

Alex quite forgave him, though, for the private hot spring installed in the next room. Magma brought up from below heated his personal subterranean lake, which had a long stone shelf for sitting back and relaxing in the steaming water.

After a long day of preparing the army and slaving in the unnatural heat of Morxez, as Luna rose above on Weyard he was ready to turn in for the day. He stripped off his sweaty clothes and sank gratefully into the water, submerging himself completely and allowing the dirt to be washed from his body. He opened his ice blue eyes in the clear water and noted to his amusement his hair was floating freely around his head, moving with the subtle currents like tentacles.

He rose from the water until it lapped against his waist, resting against a curved rock. He pushed back his plastered hair from his face, gave a contended sigh, and closed his eyes. For everything Fate had thrown at him thus far, small moments like these made it all worthwhile, being an evil lord.

He gave a sigh, of a different note. Alas, duty is never far, he thought, and sent out a mental link to the messenger, overseeing his work to make sure nothing was wrong. It can't hurt to be cautious, after all.

Meanwhile…

Jenna smirked as Felix came down of his tent, tugging uncomfortably at a formal Valean suit: an old military outfit of green and gold, buttoned across the left side in standard officer fashion. The cuffs were a light beige and the hem of it was stringed tightly against his hips, and his pants were a pale brown edging towards white, stiff with disuse. He wore smart-looking black boots, shined to a mirror-like surface, and his normally wild hair was heavily combed and slicked back in a ponytail.

The collar was folded tightly against his throat, and Jenna could practically see Felix's face turning blue as he struggled to breathe normally. She laughed at him, then walked over and undid the top button of the suit. The collar flopped open, and Felix took a deep breath. He smiled at her, then tried to look at the collar and frowned. "Jenna, it looks stupid this way."

She rolled her eyes. "It looks stupid, anyway. Just… throw your cloak over it. Somehow, you look weird without your faithful rug around your neck."

Felix growled, but marched back to his tent anyway. "Brown or blue?" He called out.

"Blue!" She returned. "Adds more colour."

Felix emerged once more, tying the sky-blue material around his neck with the efficiency of practice. He peered at the cloth spread out on the grass. "What are you bringing on the journey?"

"My favourite equipment," she said, gazing at the various items adoringly. Laid out on a brown blanket was a pair of Big Bang Gloves, Fur Boots, an Atropos' Rod and a Burning Sword, a Psychic Circlet, and an Ardagh Robe.

Felix held up a finger. "Wait one moment." He turned and pulled back the tent flap. After a few moments of shuffling around, he returned, a bulging pack in his hands. "I already chose my equipment," he said in a grim voice.

Jenna was puzzled at the tone, until he opened the pack and drew out the items, then understood. She could feel the darkness pulsing off them: Darksword, Fear Helm, Terror Shield, and Stealth Armour. Accompanying the dark items and sticking out conspicuously was a pair of Hyper Boots, Riot Gloves, and a charming Cleric's Ring.

She picked up the Fear Helm, and stared at the empty eyeslits and horns for a while, before putting it down with a slight shiver. "I don't see why you like these ones. They feel… evil."

Felix reached down and toyed with the Cleric's Ring thoughtfully before answering. "They just feel… right to me. Whether it's because I thought of myself as the villain for so long, or I'm unconsciously punishing myself for failing to save my Proxian friends, I don't know."

Jenna just looked at him strangely. "You're weird, Felix. Anyway," she said, suddenly bouncy. "I'm going to go pick out my dress. Be right back!"

Felix grimaced and waved her on. He stared at what used to be so many pieces of Dark Matter. He ran his hand across the polished surface of the Terror Shield, the strange metal ice-cold despite the hot summer season.

His reverie was broken by the dull flumph of a canvas flap, and he looked up to see Jenna, holding a dress in each hand. She gave an apologetic grin, and raised the two outfits. "Which do you think would look better, Felix? Brown," she said, moving the dusty brown-coloured dress in front of her, "or red?" She moved the brown one aside and replaced it with a burgundy one.

"The brown one," Felix said, eyeing the higher neckline.

Jenna saw his expression and broke into a wide grin. "The red one it is." With a laugh, she dashed back up in her tent to change, leaving Felix fighting the urge to facepalm.

A good forty minutes later, Jenna exited, walking uncertainly on a pair of high heel shoes. Felix rolled his eyes: it was typical of his sister to show off, even she wasn't used to it.

However, once she stood still, Felix had a chance to take a good look at her. Her ponytail was clipped into a loop, the base of her ponytail fastened to halfway along its length by a red barrette. Her eyes were shining, and a nervous smile graced her expression. Her lips were slightly glossed over with a mix of pearl essence and wax, and a hint of safflower was crushed and rubbed onto her cheeks for a bit of rouge.

The dress, Felix had to admit, was rather nice: and custom tailored, like everything else. It was sleeveless, but with small triangles of material coming off the dress to cover her shoulders. It was open-backed, with a broad strip of material across the top that served to hold it together. A small v shape cut about four inches down her front, and the skirt hem ended just below her knees. A cream-coloured length of silk, about an inch across, was bound across her waist and tied on the side into a ribbon. Her legs were bare, and her feet were tucked into the aforementioned shoes: soft pink socks went up to her ankles, to prevent her feet from getting cold in whatever chill the summer night might hold. Which brought the obvious question to Felix's mind that, if she was concerned about being cold, why choose the red dress over the brown one.

The answer came to him just as easily: to get on his nerves. Nonetheless, he had to admit to himself she looked okay.

"So," Jenna said, doing a little twirl on her toes and nearly succeeding in tripping herself. She regained her balance, blushing a bit. "What do you think?"

Felix grunted noncommittally in response. "It's fine."

Jenna growled, stomped over, and grabbed him by the collar of his cloak. She put her face inches from his, and said in an all-too-nice voice: "Felix, I just spent the last forty Mars-damned minutes preparing this outfit and getting ready, so you had better give me a well thought-out opinion, or someone's getting Dragon Fumed in this field. And it's not me."

Felix rolled his eyes, not at all intimidated. Nonetheless, he gave an answer. "I think it looks fine. You might be flaunting a bit too much," he said, with a pointed glance, "but the colour scheme is nice. The wine colour and beige compliment each other." His eyes flicked towards her hair. "I like what you've done with your hair, too," he pulled back a bit, and looked her full in the eyes. "So listen to me, Jenna: it looks fine."

Jenna let go of his collar and laughed. "Really, Felix, I was only joking. I never knew you could give such insights on fashion."

He rolled his eyes again, and punched her playfully on the arm. "But I had better not catch anyone staring down your shirt, you hear?" He said in a mock-threatening tone, but he was totally serious.

Jenna grinned. "Of course. I need my big brother to protect me from the nasty lechers, after all."

"Even if it's Garet?" Felix teased.

Jenna coloured at the old joke. "Why does everyone tease me about who I like? I already told you, I don't like Garet!" Her grin returned. "In fact… especially if it's Garet."

Felix smiled. That statement might not be entirely truthful on her part, but he appreciated the sentiment. "Whenever you're ready, Jen, we'll go."

She smiled. "'kay. Going to escort me?"

Felix thought it over, and then offered her his arm. "What kind of a brother would I be if I didn't?"

She crooked her elbow into his, and laughed. "Let's go!"

Sheba and Ivan talked quietly as she laid out her items, both of them already changed into their formal wear. Sheba carefully lined up her Lachesis' Rule; her own Psychic Circlet; a pair of Aerial Gloves; a fluffy Feathered Robe; a pair of Hyper Boots; and a Golden Ring.

"I really am glad that you found out where you were born," Ivan said softly. "And for me, too. After all, I'm descended from the Anemosians as well."

Sheba nodded, and smiled. "We're two peas in a pod, I guess." She stroked her dress absently with her hand. "It was really nice of the Anemosians to give this to me."

It was clothing in the style of the Anemosians, woven from the moonflower, a elegant plant that bloomed only on Luna. It was also known as Luna's Tears, because some say it symbolized the dark god's regret and remorse for all he had done wrong. Personally, Sheba was rather leery of that superstition. Since when is the God of Darkness remorseful?

The dress was shaped like priest's wear, a rather simple loose gown with long sleeves that flowed past her hands, and a wide u-cut in the front and back that when seen together, showed a wide circle cut from the material and stitched with small petals. A violet vest covered the upper half of hero torso, and was fastened in the back with strings. A dark mauve blouse, lengthened to come to her knees, was worn under the dress to compensate for the semi-transparency of the moonflower wear. Sheba's hair was fluffier than normal, and was lacking its usual flat bowl shape – courtesy of Dora's attentions.

Ivan, for his part, was wearing his usual purple tunic, but instead of his gold-coloured leather plate and short cloak, he wore a sweeping cape, light grey in colour. His hair was pushed back out of his eyes, but other than that he looked much the same. "Sheba?" He asked, hesitantly. "Will you allow me the pleasure of taking the first dance with you?"

She blinked in surprise. She smiled, equally hesitant. "O-of course, Ivan."

Aleos wandered through the Valean community, taking note of the restoration progress. There were only a few homes built, and those were given to the elderly and young babies, who couldn't sleep outside in tents or under the stars like everyone else.

He said a muffled curse and stomped his foot, glaring at nothing in particular. Vale was as foolish and weak as ever. When there was a war to be fought, soldiers to find, their first instinct was to have a celebration. Not only that, a dance. He knew he wasn't the most easygoing type, but certain people needed to really set their priorities straight.

He considered not attending, but he knew the other Fivefold would force him to. So he resolved to go, but nothing under Sol could force him to change into formal wear. His military suit and scholar's cloak would be good enough, he assumed.

He felt a tug at his sleeve, which he ignored, but it was followed by a more forceful one. Annoyed, he looked around for the cause, but saw nothing. On the third tug, he looked down and saw a small girl, no more than six, dressed in simple clothes.

She put her index finger to her mouth and looked at him in uncannily. "Mr. Aleos," she said, tugging again. "Do you like Miss Cara?" She asked, a mischievous glint in her turquoise eyes.

Aleos gaped at her. "What did you say?"

"Do you like Miss Cara?" The girl repeated, more confidently.

Aleos glared at her. "No, of course not. Run along, little girl, and get ready for the dance."

The girl frowned, pouting. "Are you sure? She's really cute, you know, and I'm sure you two would make a wonderful couple!"

"I am sure..." He said, trailing off. He cupped a hand suddenly on her cheek, and looked closely into her eyes. The little girl shifted uncomfortably, and began to feel as if he was looking into her soul. "… Maris." He broke into a wicked grin, and the little girl shrieked and dashed off, leaving Aleos shaking his head, amused.

The little girl rounded a Valean cliff and leaned against the rock, breathing heavily. As she began to catch her wind, she couldn't help but laugh. "Aleos is a lot more perceptive than I remember him," she said, and waved a hand over her body. The shape of the innocent little girl waved, and melted away into that of Maris, onetime princess of Imil. One of the benefits to being merely a host to the power of Sol Aurarius was the ability to change form at will. There were limitations, of course: she couldn't become a fish or sprout a third arm. Simply change her human appearance.

She looked down at her Imilian robes, and smiled cheerily. "While I'm here, I might as well get ready for the dance." She waved her hand again, and with a shimmer the heavy wear became a slim azul dress, a rather low-cut one. This was balanced, however, by a pair of white ribbons that were pinned to the straps, approximately four inches wide. From a short length of ribbon that fell over her back, the ribbons went from over her shoulders and crossed over her chest, before continuing across her sides and crossing again at the small of her back, then crossing once more across her legs before ending as two separate ribbons, trailing just above her ankles and pinned to the bottom of her dress.

She flicked a hand at her navy blue hair, and it immediately obeyed her command, winding itself into a bun, leaving only about six inches unravelled to grace the back of her head. She smiled, and set out for the dance.

Isaac, Mia, Piers, and Garet were standing in a small group, talking animatedly as they waited for everyone to arrive. The dance was due to start anytime, so they were passing the time by discussing the equipment they were going to bring tomorrow.

"Sol Blade, Cosmo Shield, Valkyrie Mail, Crown of Glory, and Hyper Boots," Isaac answered calmly to Piers' question. The Venus Adept was clad in clothes that were simple, yet elegant: blue trousers and a classy shirt that was just hinting towards azure, with gold trimmings. A velvety cape of the exact same colour replaced his beloved yellow scarf, which was no coincidence. He reached back and absently ruffled his hair out from under his collar, and turned to the redhead standing beside him. "What about you, Garet?" He asked, turning to his childhood friend.

"Fire Brand, Riot Gloves, Dragon Scales, Gloria Helm, and Quick Boots," he rattled off, and grinned. He looked comfortable in his forest green tunic with an orange vest over it, tied with several bands of leather underneath. He wore stiff shoulder guards with gold tassels, and brown pants tucked into polished leather boots.

Mia shook her head slowly, looking at Garet's attire. "I can't believe what you're wearing, Garet. Why, it almost looks exactly like what you normally wear." For her part, she wore an eggshell blue skirt and an azure blouse, with a sky-coloured scarf wrapped through her hair. A little summer cloak was tied around her shoulders, a white cloud pattern traced on the navy material.

Garet laughed, somewhat sheepishly. "Well, I'd rather be somewhat casual then look like Mercury boy here," he jerked his them towards Piers, who frowned.

"Garet, we Lumerians take our festivities very seriously. They provided life to our otherwise bland existence, trapped in Lumeria as we were," he informed him. He was wearing a full sea captain's wear, clothes he had brought from his ship. The navy material was fastened over the right side with gold buttons, and he had slipped gold bands around his wrists. His headdress was still fastened tightly underneath his hair, but the white and blue didn't flow so well with the darker material of his uniform. Nonetheless, he still managed to strike a regal figure.

"We need this," Isaac stated plainly. "I can only speak for myself, but after journeying around the world for over a year, afterwards devoting the majority of our time to rebuilding Vale, and then being informed we have to venture out again," he shook his head as if the very idea was preposterous. "It's a bit much. This is a distraction. The other Valeans need it, too. They've been working just as hard." He ran a hand along his sleeve, smoothing out some of the wrinkles. "We've done these celebrations before. Let's hope this one is a lot better then the others."

"You going to show off your moves this time, Isaac?" Garet teased. Despite being hailed as a hero, Isaac never had the most outgoing personality – that was mostly his fiery friend's territory. He'd rather sit on the sidelines and watch everyone else dance, as opposed to demeaning himself by trying it.

The blonde hid the barest smile. "We'll see. Someday, I'll show you my mettle and astonish your puny mind."

The first notes cracked the crisp night air as one of the musicians hesitantly plucked the first notes on a violin. There was a short pause as the woman poked at the strings, testing them for consistency, which apparently she deemed satisfactory. She set the bow to the strings and wound out a lilting but simple tune, at first just running up and down the musical scale, but slowly she added more elements, until the plain exercise evolved into a complex solo.

Another musician stepped on stage, a viola swinging in his hand. He braced it against his chin and went through the same warm up routine as his counterpart, temporarily off-setting her rhythm. But after a nod at each other, they began a slow, slothful duet of low keys separated by sudden climbs into high notes.

Throughout this, the field slowly filled up with more and more Adepts, all dressed in formal wear, or what they thought passed for it. Mia and Isaac were shyly dancing on the side, underneath the tree, while Piers and Garet stood a safe distance away, the latter rolling his eyes.

At last, everyone was in attendance. The Great Healer and the Mayor stood side by side, the Healer standing straight-backed and formal while Keith stood at a half slouch, his hand curved around a foaming mug of ale. There was utter silence, and then he raised his voice and cried, "Let the party begin!"

It was as if a Pyroclasm had gone off. Somebody leapt to the stage and began madly sawing away at a fiddle, generating a jaunty tune that despite having little rhythm to it, was quite catchy. The violin and viola players bowed out, and a person with a banjo took the stage, holding the simple instrument of sheep gut stretched across a hollowed-out timber with a long neck. He and the fiddle player nodded at each other, stood back to back, and played out a bouncing country tune. Excited, the mass of Adepts swung towards each other, linking elbows. Then, the festival really began.

After several hours of exhausting dancing, no one, including the groups of musicians, had the strength to go on any longer. Everyone was hot and sweaty, and the drinks of squeezed fruit were fast running out. The mayor rose to his feet, his wife beside him, each red in the face and breathing heavily. He clapped his hands twice, attaching the attention of the crowd.

"I think it would be in all our interests to take a short rest!" He boomed. "Let a fresh round of drinks be handed out, and we'll take volunteers for slow performances now!" He sat down heavily, and from the tone of his voice, a calming show was exactly what he was hoping for.

There were murmurs from the crowd, but nobody had the energy to do a solo piece in front of everybody.

In the meantime, Jenna and Sheba cornered Felix, both wearing wicked grins. "Why weren't you dancing more, Felix?" Sheba said, mild disappointment clear in her tone. "There were plenty of girls who were hoping for a dance."

"Sheba not the least of them," Jenna snickered.

Ignoring the Anemosian's indignant 'hey!', Felix responded in his usual smooth tone, but he seemed distracted. "The only one I want to dance with isn't here."

"Oh?" Jenna pounced, eyes bright. Felix didn't talk about who he was interested in very often, so she seized the opportunity to press for details. "And who would that be?" She scanned her eyes over the crowd, but all the people she knew – Sheba excepting – were lost in the shuffle, so she couldn't tell who was there or not. She turned back to interrogate Felix more, but he suddenly wasn't there. She blinked in surprise, then Sheba tapped on her shoulder.

"Look, he's going on stage!"

Jenna whirled around and stared in disbelief. "What? But Felix has no musical talent whatsoever! Why does he want to perform?"

"Maybe he thought being heckled by the crowd was better than being subjected to you, Jenna," Sheba suggested, and narrowly dodged a slap from Jenna. "Hey, take it easy! I'm an Anemosian now, I demand respect!"

Jenna rolled her eyes. "You did from the start, Child of the Gods," she muttered, then her eyes widened as she saw Felix take the violin from one of the former performers, who looked happy to get rid of it and take a break.

A hush fell over the crowd as Felix slowly climbed to the wooden platform, the instrument tenderly cradled in his hand. He pushed back his hair behind his shoulders, set the body under his chin, and put the bow to the strings. He swept it lazily across each string, sounding a different note, and then started to play.

Everybody stopped what they were doing and stared, enraptured. Even those that knew him well were open-mouthed; this was a side of Felix they had never seen before. He moved his head in sync with the movements of his bow, and wove out a net of tones like a ghost's whisper. They were rich, mellow notes, tinged with sadness but full of vitality at the same time, spinning out mostly low keys, but occasionally arcing upwards to test the limits of the violin's ability, but always, always, remaining slow in tempo.

It was not a fancy piece, but there was something attractive in its simplicity, something that sung to the child in everyone who still remembers being bounced on their parent's knee and being sung a lullaby, of sleeping late at night under the stars. And indeed, as if the music called them, the clouds dispersed from the sky and one by one the stars winked in, until Felix was playing both to a starstruck audience, and the stars themselves. Time wheeled by and Luna climbed even higher, and still he played, his entire body swaying rhythmically in time to the sound of the violin, as if it and he were one being.

Finally, finally, like a dying breath, he hit the lowest notes the instrument was capable of, letting the bow slide off the strings and hang at his side, gripped tightly in his hand. He looked up, sweaty but clearly exhilarated from the performance, and took a bow of his own.

Everyone stood in stunned silence for a moment, and then burst into wild applause. Felix took another bow, wiped his hair off his face, and started to climb down the stage. He was prevented from doing so, however, by someone climbing up.

Piers vaulted onto the stage and whispered something to Felix. Felix whispered a response, nodded to his friend, and stepped aside so Piers could take centre stage. Felix sat on the side and watched, interest flickering in his eyes.

Piers smiled charmingly at the crowd and reached into one of his sailors pockets, drawing something out. He raised to his lips blew a scale into the tubes.

It was a syrinx, also known as a panpipe, carved of yew, with fifteen stopped pipes of gradually increasing size. It was the traditional instrument of Lumeria, and Piers thought it appropriate to represent his country in such a way at this festival.

With a smile on his lips, he raised the panpipe and blew into the fourth smallest pipe, creating a high continuous note, then wiggled the higher end of the pan to create a hand vibrato effect. He let the first note die away, and then launched into a well-known (at least in Lumeria) and very old song, one that didn't need skill so much as endurance to play. A singer usually accompanied it, but as Piers quickly blew along the entire pan and added the vibrato on the higher end – meant to symbolize water flowing – he resigned himself to having to do without. The syrinx was a flexible instrument, at any rate.

His concentration was temporarily shattered as a high-pitched cry of excitement split the air, and the crowd murmured angrily, having just begun to enjoy the soulful music.

Maris burst from the front rows of the crowd and ran for the stairs, almost falling over for the ribbon wrapped around her legs. She caught herself and ran to Piers, hair bouncing. She clasped her hands together in front of her and smiled happily. "I know that song! May I sing along with you?"

Piers blinked with surprise and lowered the syrinx. "Of course," he responded with equal courtesy, silently thanking Mercury for providing.

Maris smiled winningly, and turned to the faintly skeptical crowd, her hands still clasped under her chin, and her blue eyes sparkling. She waited for Piers to play the intro to the song again, and closed her eyes to the lilting sound of a master panpipe player. Piers also had closed his eyes and was tilting the panpipe, angling his jaw to hit every note, adding various degrees of vibrato at the end of every few bars, a characteristic of the Aquarius Tradegy.

Then, she opened her mouth and began to sing in her soprano voice:

Hold, hold, hold me, bear me safely to my home
Gently guide me as I ride upon your splashing foam.
Caress my cheek with a warm southern breeze
Cradled by your waves, I dwell in a daze…
Gazing up into a clear blue sky
And if I ever leave you, my sea,
Let me die… oh, let me die…

Sea, sea, why do you treat me so
I know not why you roar with rage
My ship, betraying, becomes my cage
Merciless needles pound on my bars
Angry thunder, my spirit marred.
Ten, twenty, thirty, forty, fifty, sixty, I cannot count any longer.
The immense wave comes down on me, and bears me under…
And lo, lo… I weep.

Hold, hold, hold me, bear me safely to my home
Gently guide me as I ride upon your splashing foam.
Caress my cheek with a warm southern breeze
Cradled by your waves, I dwell in a daze…
Gazing up into a clear blue sky
And if I ever leave you, my sea,
Let me die… oh, let me die…

Spinning into the depths, Bubbles rising, my last breaths.
My hair floating like an aura, the winking eyes of the Mora.
Hungry and gazing, waiting for me to die.
I'm wet all over; I'm sinking fast,
I count so slowly my seconds last.
The sea grows saltier with my tears
As I cry, my sea… I cry.

Hold, hold, hold me, bear me safely to my home
Gently guide me as I ride upon your splashing foam.
Caress my cheek with a warm southern breeze
Cradled by your waves, I dwell in a daze…
Gazing up into a clear blue sky
And if I ever leave you, my sea,
Let me die… oh, let me die…

You had loved me after all, my sea.
Your past transgressions forgotten by me.
I'm all alone with you now, without a care.
Where you carry me, I don't know where.
Motionless I am enfolded by you
Unseeingly I see the waves
Now I know your love is true
The sea, sweet sea, my sea… my grave…

Towards the later parts of the song, the crowd had picked up on the lyrics of the chorus and was singing along, varying expressions on their faces ranging from excitement to a calm serenity. Maris was having the time of her life, leaning forward with her hands clasped behind her back, singing her heart out. Never since her mortal life when she was reunited with Lynn and Hydros was she this happy. Despite being bone weary of life on occasion and the past depression that one thousand years of solitude had caused, this, she felt, made it all worthwhile. To live again.

Piers, likewise, was in awe: the sheer power this song possessed was astounding. Not power in the sense of a Psynergy, a physical power, but the very beauty of it affected the emotions of the heart. It was the song of the Imilian royal family, written to express the love of the ocean that all Mercurians bear, and how to their race it was more important than life itself. He could relate to the song, to the feeling of being alone with the sea, and having an intimate relationship with it.

Finally, both he and Maris trailed off on the lowest note they could manage, and shot each other a euphoric and triumphant look, out of breath but exhilarated. The crowd burst into wild applause, and Maris and Piers took their bows. The rest of the group was arrayed on the sides of the stage, clapping as enthusiastically as everyone else.

However, as the applause died down, one particular part became distinct: someone in the audience clapping slowly, methodically, at about one clap every few seconds. Soon, all eyes turned to the hooded figure in the depths of the crowd, who seemed to notice the attention on him. He reached up and lowered his hood, and the crowd all leapt back to get a good distance from the monster.

He might have passed for a normal human being with his hood up, in fact that was exactly how he infiltrated Vale without anyone noticing. But with his hood down, he was something that made the Fivefold gasp for air and automatically reach for their weapons.

A Mantrak.

Aligned to Mercury in addition to Luna, from his appearance. He bore the traditional Mantrak shadow for a visage, and he had a crystalline mane of cyan hair that to all intents and appearances appeared to be made out of ice. It shimmered as he turned his head to scan the crowd, the moon's light becoming trapped inside of the strands, where it glowed ethereally. A crown of the same material was placed on his head, with three distinctive prongs in the front. "What a sorry bunch we have here!" He barked out harshly, and the crowd cowered. Maris ran as fast as she could and hid behind Cinaed, glaring at the hatred creature, whose race had destroyed her hometown.

The Mantrak took a bound forward, scattering the crowd like mice and landing nimbly before the stage. He looked up at the wary Adepts around him and seemed to smirk. "This is the great Fivefold Demante fears? Pathetic." He snorted and turned around dismissively. The Fivefold bristled, and the eight Adepts were indignant on their behalf.

Aleos stepped forward, but another voice cut him off. The Great Healer had stood shakily and had pointed a accusing finger at the hellspawn. "What are you, demon? Why have you come here? Leave at once!"

The Mantrak whirled at once to the Healer, his hair spinning out behind him. He snarled, gathered strength in his legs and sprang at the venerable oldster, claws of ice forming at his knuckles. He flew twenty feet forward and extended his hand, ramming it into and through the old man's stomach.

The Great Healer gave a pained gasp, and looked down at the ice-covered arm intruding in on his innards with a mixture of weariness and outrage. "You… beast… Fate curse you," he coughed up blood, flecking the crimson liquid across the Mantrak's visage. He went down still gagging, and grew still

With a sickening squelch, the Luna withdrew his hand and flicked the blood off it, then turned to face the horror-struck crowd. "Why am I here?" He mocked. "I come bearing a message from Lord Demante, the Necromancer and Dark One, to the ones foolish enough to resist his coming reign. He will crush all dissidents to his righteous cause, and Weyard will be his. Here is the message," he cleared his throat and drew a parchment from his cloak, ripping open the seal and reading:

" 'Oh, so you want to play? Smiley face.' " He smirked at the confused expression that passed across the crowd, and laughed cruelly.

"It means, fools," he went on, "that our Lord views you simply as another enemy to crush, that your futile efforts to destroy him are in vain. This," he gestured to the body of the Great Healer behind him, "is our Lord's first move. Soon, there will be many more, until eventually…" he bashed his hands together and grinned. "Checkmate."

There was a roar from somewhere in the crowd, a flurry of grey sparkles and a black-and-silver blur from the crowd. Aleos flew at the demon, his hair whipping wildly behind him and his eyes inflamed with rage. "Your master will meet his demise like Regnoare before him, at my own hands!" He unsheathed Masamune from its Valean leather case and slashed, aiming to unseam the Mantrak diagonally from shoulder to hip.

The demon hissed and swung his hands together, locking the katana between the claws. He smirked and flexed, throwing off the Void Adept.

Aleos looked shocked, and flipped his hair out of his eyes. "Why didn't my blade cut you in half… it's supposed to be the sharpest in all Weyard. An old and master forger made this for Argyros himself. Why can a mere demon like you block it?" He demanded.

"Can you clearly not see the Mercury taint in its soul?" The Mantrak taunted. "I, aligned with Mercury and Luna, am resistant to its pathetic attempts."

A stream of fire barrelled over his head in response, and he dropped to the stage in an instant in fear for his head. The blast continued overheard and flew into the sky, dissipating somewhere over Mount Aleph.

Jenna and Garet were running forward, flames curling in their hands, with Cinaed floating behind them like a Proxian angel, his red and orange wings curling like fire. "If you're a Mercurian, we should be able to deal with you!" Jenna yelled, and tossed a fireball at him.

The Mantrak rolled out of the way, but the blast still caught his right hand, melting all the ice off it and searing his shadowflesh. He leapt up hissing, and cradled his hand. "You impertinent girl!" He shouted, and waved his good hand, casting Megacool.

As the storm of ice shards flew at her, Jenna just stuck out her hand and blasted it with a Searing Beam, a counter soon joined by a Liquefier from Garet and an Inferno from Cinaed. The Megacool was melted and then evaporated almost instantly, and the fire washed over the Mantrak.

The Mantrak stood stock still, his arms desperately crossed in front of him as the last glimmers of a bubble shield faded around him. He was still scorched, though, his cloak burnt through in places to show dark leather armour beneath. He uncrossed his arms, reforming the ice claws from the moisture in the air. He settled back and glared with a mixture of hatred and indignation, and spat out a curse. "You swine! When my master deals with you, he'll make sure you all die excruciatingly painful deaths!"

Cinaed laughed deeply in his chest, and for a moment the Mantrak was cowed. The sight of the red-maned Proxian in full dragoon armour with widespread wings was one to intimidate any, most of all his enemies. The Valukar flapped forward, drawing the halberd Draconix as he approached. "You're far outnumbered here, Mantrak. It would be a bad tactical move to stay and fight when it's guaranteed you will lose, with minimal casualties to your opponent. We have a message of our own to send to Demante: tell him to use a stronger opponent next time, because we won't hesitate to destroy you or anyone else in the future. Now, get out of here!" He roared suddenly, and the Mantrak smirked.

"Next time then, foolish rebels," with that, he took a bow and dissolved into the ground, turning into a puddle of darkness that was then drawn into the heart of the earth.

In the stunned silence that followed, Isaac's voice broke clear and strong across the field. "So, that's what we're fighting against," the tone was casual, confident, and above all, unafraid. All eyes turned with surprise to the blond, who stepped out from the masses and addressed his friends and the Valeans on a whole. "Our enemy, this 'Demante' has shown his presence and given us a warning to stay away. At the very least, that shows he's worried about what we might be capable of," his voice said this as if there was no doubt, as if victory was only a matter of time. "He likes to play games, huh?" he paused. "We'll show him that we can play, too. We'll set out first thing tomorrow," he added with confidence. "Come hell, fire, or brimstone."

"And what, leave the Great Healer laying there?" Sheba said sarcastically. She cast Volatilis and glided over, alighting gently before the venerable man's body. Furrowing her brow, she leaned in and used Mind Read, the easiest way to determine how someone was faring. Or if they were dead.

She received faint thoughts of pain, and stood quickly. "He's alive!" She announced, and suddenly she was surrounded by a flurry of activity. The ones capable of healing, namely Venus and Mercury Adepts, immediately leapt up to help, surrounded by the concerned Mars and Jupiter adepts. All of Vale was suddenly bent on the saving of its eldest leader: there were Revives to replenish his soul, and the most powerful Cures and Plys that were able to be mustered.

Somewhere in the chaos, a small blue orb was tossed onto the Great Healer, a faintly rotating creature of little sentience. Gold rings encircled its body, and everyone stared at it in bewilderment then amazement as it began to cast Psynergy, glowing with a blue light and dispersing its spell over the Great Healer. With a flash, it disappeared, returning to the one who cast it. The ghostly outlines of navy blue robes faded from the person in question, and she whispered a silent word of thanks to the Refresh spirit.

With a groan, the Great Healer stirred, and a cheer went up through the Valeans.

In the ensuing madness, the Mayor ordered for a double guard to be posted that night. The assistant Healers clustered around to tend to their leader, and while the Adepts and Kraden parted ways from the crowd, stopping a fair distance from everyone else.

"Do we continue on tomorrow?" Orior inquired, looking around for popular opinion.

Kraden gave his assent on behalf of the eight. "We have no choice. The forces of darkness have performed their first act of war. Even if we refuse this quest, it is most likely he will devastate what we've rebuilt of Valeriam and eliminate us anyway, simply because we are a threat." The others nodded their agreement.

Felix stood decisively, shooting a look at Isaac. "We leave tomorrow, first light. I imagine an army of Luna would be weaker in the daytime, so we'll travel as far as we can before night falls." He scanned the Adepts, the core group of warriors who would defeat Demante, hopefully. "Take your equipment when you wake up, and meet us at the town gate." With a flare of the cloak on his military suit, he turned and left. Upon this signal, the others dispersed to their tents, and Kraden headed to his cottage. Cara lingered a moment longer, a thoughtful expression on her face, and then departed as well, leaving only the Fivefold standing amongst themselves.

Shamira smiled. "They're leading already, and we hardly had to do anything."

"Bear in mind, though, they've succeeded in a quest of their own. They are not amateurs, by any means," Orior reminded them.

"I can't wait to set out and see Hydros," Maris confessed. "I'm going to go to bed early so I can be first to the gate," she promised, and walked off towards the newly rebuilt in, Leviathan swinging at her side, humming a tune.

Shamira caught Cinaed looking after her and smirked. "Stare any harder and you'll burn a hole in her dress, mate." The Proxian blushed, a rare sight to see, and growled at Shamira.

Suppressing his laughter, Orior clapped his friend on the back. "We should be heading off, too."

Aleos frowned. "Fate will be overseeing our venture. Let it not go to waste." With a single nod, the Fivefold parted ways, each going to rest before they led a new generation of heroes on yet another quest to save the world.

In the darkest hour of the night, when black clouds obscured the glimmering stars and the bright moon, shadows began to stir. A sleep spell was cast over the vigilant guards and they collapsed, sunk into the oblivion of a dreamless rest. The spectres moved on, flitting from the undershades of buildings and into the shielded warmth of homes. Searching.

And what they were searching for, they found. And tomorrow's journey was dealt a serious blow.

Postscript: The name 'Valeriam' is taken from the works of Sora G. Silverwind, a most excellent author. I thought it an apt 'formal' name for Vale, and decided to use it. Credit goes to her.