Mewt startled with a short cry, and even Babus was struck dumb a moment, lips parted mutely as he watched the stranger step from concealment in the brush. He was garbed unlike any human the Nu Mou had seen all in his travels, and seemed to think nothing of his shocking trespass.

How...?

The moment of wonder passed as he gripped his mace up, crossing it defensively before himself as he moved to shield the Prince.

"Who are you?"

Well, that wasn't a good start. Panic and fear once again swept over Ian's mind and in the place of his stomach, a gaping pit opened up and started swallowing everything up. The sudden appearance of Babus' weapon did bring quite a start into him as he took a step back reflexively. Then again, he remembered. 'Babus is Mewt's retainer and friend. He'll do whatever he needs to to protect him.' he thought, then breathed again, color returning in his cheeks. 'Just play it cool... all you want is the book... just show them you mean no harm...'

Slowly, he lowered himself onto one knee and lifted his cold, clammy palms from his body, to show he was weaponless, "I-I'm sorry for the intrusion." he spoke quietly, "I'm no one... that anyone needs to worry about... ...I just want the book..."

Outrage yet flushed the pale Nu Mou, softly rounded muzzle hardened by a snarl. His pawhands tightened over his weapon. "What?"

Where his retainer's eyes bored into the tall man with suspicion, Mewt's were wide with wonder still. The other had a Yankees sweatshirt on, and....the book...?

He didn't know him....but he knew where he came from.

How....?

"A-are you with Marche...?"

"N-no, your highness..." Ian replied, lowly, "I'm... a little confused." Even with the sweatshirt on, he felt the chill of the night enter his body and he shivered as such. Damn this night. Damn this situation. Damn his cowardice...

"...I... was home... trying to sleep... a large white flash appeared... and I awoke to find myself lying there... in the corner of the courtyard." he explained slowly, pointing over to where he awoke, "...When I found where I was... I remembered... something about the Grimoire. ...your book, your highness."

Licking his lips nervously, he continued, "I... am not saying you did bring me here... nor am I saying that you didn't... I just want the book, so I can go back home... please."

Home....

Mewt took another step back, guarded eyes matching Babus's now. "I don't know what you're talking about."

'Damn.' Ian thought, 'Denial and feigning ignorance.'

"I know... you have a book... it is called the Grimoire..." he explained, "...very odd style. ...many of the words are unreadable... and very hard to say..." he closed his eyes, reaching back in his mind for a phrase in the book. He knew Mewt knew. He probably just didn't want to let it on to Babus. ...well, he didn't care much. At least, that's what he FELT.

Suddenly, his mind snatched it, "...Alta oron. Sondus kameela... ...heh, to one's eye, 'twould seem like a magic book."

"There is no other home." His mind writhed in a sickened whirl, and he bit back the tremble in his lip. Why can't he ever make it right...? "If that's what you want, you can't have it. Just....go out the way you came....and tell Marche to leave me alone!"

"Your highness, please... I know there is no other home for you. THIS... is your home. This courtyard, this palace, this country, this world..." he looked around slowly, taking in the scenery. Still, the Bangaa had not returned. It was still the three of them. "...But it is not mine." he said, finally looking back down toward the grass. He could not look either of them in the eye. Damn. He was a bit more persistent than he believed.

Suddenly, Ian's mind came to something else, "...This Marche you speak of... he troubles you?"

The younger boy only shook his head wildly, eyes squeezed shut. "Stop it! You sound just like him! There is no other world! Just get out!"

"His Highness has asked you to leave." The Nu Mou's soft voice had roughened to a growl of warning. "I suggest you be grateful of his benevolence and do so."

"I will do what I need to do, Babus, to bring myself home." he replied to his growling. By this point, Ian was getting frustrated, "Prince Mewt, listen to me, please." he said calmly, slowly, "You might not believe so, but I know what I know. ...on account I asked you for the book, I would like to propose a deal."

He was NOT getting screwed out of this. Not by anyone, including a hyper-depressed boy in denial nor his mace-wielding pet dog. "I can certainly see the toll that Marche is taking on you, such as your reaction."

He lifted his eyes to the boy, looking straight into him, "...So I propose this - if I deal with Marche, would you, at the very least, lend me the Grimoire? I do not see what purpose it serves you otherwise."

Mewt drew in a deep breath, and looked to Babus instead. He was upsetting him more than ever, now.

....he could at least make that right....

"No. Leave now."

The Nu Mou nodded and stepped forward, no quarter in his stance or tone. "I will escort you."

Ian frowned, then saw between the two of them, a door, down at the other end of the courtyard, as if a back door, "No... ...I'll show myself out." He stood and swept past them both on the grass, his face as dark as a storm cloud. "That was a perfectly reasonable offer, your highness. I could have ended your pain and ceased his reckless attack upon this world in a single motion."

His cheeks burned in frustration, anger as he ceased, some distance away and turned with a sweeping motion, "You want to keep me in this world, just as he wants to take it away from you. You are no better than he. You have power. You abuse it. ...I tried to satisfy all parties... ...but you want all the satisfaction for yourself. Just as he cares not for your feelings or that of his friends."

Hearing his own words, it only made Ian angrier. It was a stupid thing to do. But, he didn't care. He was going to leave, his own way. He brought his arm up and pointed across the courtyard toward the young boy, "Mark my words... your Grimoire will be mine. I will do whatever's necessary to go home."

"You DARE?"

"Babus...!"

Short claws dug cruelly into Ian's calf heedless, and the thorned mace thrust before him to block his path. "The only home you will know now is Sphrom, boy!"

Ian grunted, feeling the spikes from the mace brush against his skin and yelped slightly when he felt one pierce, into his stomach. He growled in pain and wrenched back, the blood seeping through, even his sweatshirt as he turned to gaze down at the Nu Mou. "Sphrom? You threaten me with PRISON?" In a swift motion, he spun around and landed his heel behind Babus' head.

The force of the human's heel sent Babus splaying to the tiled stone.

"Another world....yet you know so much of ours." He spat, contempt mixed with blood. He surged back to his feet, bringing his mace to bear with all his strength behind it.

"I promise you with it!"

Ian tried to sidestep the mace, but only succeeded in letting it slice across his back, to which he cried out in tremendous pain in response. He didn't know what kept him on his feet, even after the blow. Wait... yes, he did. His anger. That kept him going. Angry tears, tears of pain, glittered in his dark eyes. He would NOT be defeated here, in this false reality!

"I know so much more than you would ever dream possible!" he growled through clenched teeth, stumbling forward from Babus, blood seeping through the back of his shirt, trailing down his leg. "More than your prince would ever DARE tell you!"

"Again, these lies! You ARE with Radiuju!" He leapt back, glancing to Mewt. The Prince's face twisted with anguish, long legs barely holding him. That tortured expression nearly burst the Nu Mou's heart with hatred for this new demon, even as he calmed once more to a comforting mask.

"Highness, inside, quickly." he said quietly, turning back to the intruder. "If your allies are here, stranger....know now I will kill them if they try to touch the Prince."

"Shut up, Babus." Ian uttered, staggering towards the door once again, "You know nothing... I already told you... I have no allies. I have no one here..." He didn't bother turning to see if Babus was following. No weapons at all. Just a weak punch was all the weapon he had. "You see these terms so simply... it is more complicated than you could hope to imagine."

Blood trickled out of his mouth. But he didn't get a shot in the face yet. Damnit... he must be bleeding worse inside than he thought. All the anger still raged inside of him and tempted him to swing around to sock Babus a good one. But the combination of his previous fatigue as well as the extreme blood loss was wearing him down quickly.

"I know all I need to. Stop, now, before I must stop you. Highness....inside, please!"

The sharp plea finally propelled Mewt's legs as he bolted, eyes still locked on his friend and....new enemy.

"Stop me?" Ian laughed bitterly as he stumbled still toward the exit from the courtyard, "Oooooh, you might as well go back to your prince. At this rate, I'll be stopped permanently before I reach that exit." He hoped that wasn't true, though he knew it might be. How thick-headed could this Nu Mou be?

As he continued forward, the pain in his stomach intensified. With a low grunt, he attempted to quicken his pace, to attempt to escape before it got any worse... or before Swain could stab in with his mace again.

Babus's red-crusted muzzle curled with contempt. He spoke again, then....but not to the intruder or the Prince. He spoke to the earth, casting the spell of Demi.

Ian suddenly stopped as the spell smashed him, and crumpled to the grass, the green blades stained with dark red from the young man's blood, howling in pain. It was as if the organs in his body imploded all at once. Blood now flowed freely from his mouth now as well as his nose as he lay upon the courtyard ground, twitching violently, like a wounded animal right before the slaughter. In his mind, everything raged. He damned Babus. He damned Mewt. Damned everything that this world was, everything that had created this world. How he wished to speak it.

Babus strode forward, hauling the human up by the collar mercilessly. "Wretched monster....what hold does Radiuju have on the Prince? Answer me!"

Ian merely stared back at him, unbelieving. He attempted to lift his arm, but failed.

"...you... are as much... of a monster... as I..." he uttered, blood drenching his face. "I don't know... ...what the kid is doing... to your prince... ...but he has... my eternal blessing." Ian gathered as much strength as he could into his arm and swung it. Even as it connected with Babus' face, he knew it was nothing as he now hung helplessly in Swain's grip.

"Jesus Christ... just... let me die already..." he gagged, "...you've... already proven... to your prince... that you can slaughter... an unarmed man... I'm sure... he will love you for that..."

Babus's head jerked with the weak blow, but his clenched paw did not waver.

"Bastard....you will answer the interrogators of Sphrom."

Suddenly, Ian felt himself dropped, as another desperate grip took the Nu Mou's shoulders.

"Babus....please...!"

"My Prince...!"

Ian groaned as he hit the ground. Mewt had, unwittingly, saved him. ...he made a note that he owed him for that, albeit a five-second favor. He looked up to see the door only a few feet away. Sweet, blissful freedom. He crawled forward, a dying animal again. Even if he did get out... how far would it take him...?

His head came into contact with the door first, gently. Lifting one hand from the ground, he pushed his palm against the door and shoved it open.

Babus did not follow. With a few more words, he called on the teleportation spell, and both he and Mewt were gone to the sanctuary within the Palace.

The young man, the only one left, looked back. They were gone. So much the better for him. "Damn you, Swain..." he uttered lowly, tears joining the blood that was already on his face, staining his features, "DAMN YOU BOTH!!" he cried out, letting the palace know his misery. Babus Swain had defeated him in a beating, a true hallmark of a warrior to bludgeon and slice his unarmed, nigh-defenseless opponent near-to-death.

As the mass of flesh that was once a man trickled out of the courtyard and out of the palace, away from the calls of swarming guards, his mind reeled with realization. He was in Ivalice. He was not getting out. He was going to die from injuries sustained by a fictional character, one that he had been fond of, despite their encounters with a screen between them. Such ferocity, the boy should have learned, was typical of Babus Swain, protector of Prince Mewt.

The night dragged on. It did not cease. Nor did his crawling; weak, helpless, defeated. The tears never stopped flowing throughout the night from pain, embarrasment, and the knowledge that that was his last night in existence. Within an hour, maybe a bit less, since he had left the palace, he dropped, finished in his journey. It was a comfortable spot, shrubberies abound. Soft. Quiet. A beautiful tomb it would be. As Ian seemed to finally accept it, he lay his head down in the grass and closed his eyes, ready to give his last.