Lloyd woke, feeling as though he had been used as a Wingly-punching bag by a Giganto. Sprawled haphazardly across the floor of the cell, he slowly lifted a hand to his head¸ and rubbed his brow contemplatively. He didn't know what it felt like to be hung-over, but he decided that hung-over would have been a nice retreat. The Wingly propped himself up on his elbows, staring at his toes disinterestedly while he steeled away his resolve. Finally, with a determined thrust of his upper body, he was sitting. However, his moment of victory was quickly tainted by the nausea that flooded his head and the pain that screamed from his torso. He lay back down, defeated.

"Bravo. That was most inspiring," Dart commented from where he stood, leaning in the threshold of the doorway.

"You making a habit of watching me sleep?" Lloyd asked, eyes on the stone ceiling.

"You lied to us," Dart stated simply.

"Oh that. Pah, you make it sound as if you're surprised." He closed his eyes and put a hand over them, to shield them from the dull light falling into the cell. "I'm sorry, Hero, did I tarnish that gleaming ego of yours?" Lloyd heard another pair of footsteps approach.

"We both told you talking to him is a waste of time," the Sacred Sister commented to Dart.

"And yet, he seems rather fond of it, doesn't he?" Lloyd quipped. "Look," he muttered absently. "As much as I enjoy our little games of intellectual chess – or rather, checkers in your case – I'm not in the best colour at the present moment, so could you come back later?"

The Sacred Sister sighed in a way that brought a smirk to Lloyd's face. "Albert has his fastest ship readied, Dart. We can be to the Tree of Life in two days," she said.

"After Darkness and Fire, are we? They aren't there."

"How would you know?" Dart inquired of the Wingly.

"The stones aren't there, just like we have 28 days to prepare?" Miranda quipped.

Lloyd giggled awkwardly. Dart swore he heard a snort. "Well, I know it has something to do with 28 days – the moon cycle and all. Everything's connected to the stars and the moon. Maybe we'll all just be dead in 28 days time," he rambled. He pressed his fingers to his temples as another wave of nausea hit him. "One can only hope."

"What the hell's your problem?" the Sacred Sister demanded. "Besides the obvious," she added dryly.

"Oh just a lifetime of guilt manifesting itself," Lloyd remarked rather candidly.

Miranda's eyebrow lifted skeptically, casting a sideways glance towards Dart, who shrugged in reply.

OOO

"So, let's review, shall we?" Ellis said as he set down some supper. Estell eyed him with mild interest. "Getting Regole's Stone, my plan – success? Flawless. Storming the castle, your plan – success? Not so much."

Estell took a bite of one of the apples Ellis had put on the table, and chewed loudly, clearly unimpressed. "You're forgetting something," she said after a moment.

"Oh yeah, what's that?"

"Your ingenius plan to lie to us, betraying our deep-seeded trust in you, dear brother, by covering up the fact that Lloyd is not so dead . . . also handing him over to the Dragoons, what was that about?" She inadvertently swept the room for Ceres and her reaction, except that her sister was nowhere to be found.

OOO

Wearing a wonderfully hideous, droopy hat, Ceres peered at the castle from underneath the wide brim. Ellis was right. Patrols seemed to go by every other minute, even the turrets were manned. Bale's populace, too, seemed aware of the heightened security. Everywhere she went Ceres heard rumours about the beast that attacked the Dragoons or the assassination attempt against their king – the versions varied from place to place.

Eyeing her proximity to the castle, Ceres guessed this was about as close as she was going to get without being noticed. She was a few paces away, on the city side of the castle's moat, pretending to be interested in one of the outside vendor's wares. No one seemed to pay her much attention. She surely didn't look like a hulking monster, and everyone knew the assassin had been a Wingly.

As soon as the patrol disappeared around one of the castle's corners, Ceres edged her way closer to the moat. She looked behind her to a stack of pottery at a nearby stand, and casually brought out a small something from her pocket. She tossed the spell in the direction of pots, being careful not to summon the magic until the little sparkly orb was close enough. Then with a boom! that shook the marketplace, the Dark Mist went into its usual display sending the pottery (as well as the stand incidentally) crashing to the ground. With a bit of cringe, Ceres jumped over the ledge confident that most – if not all – eyes were presently engaged in the chaos she had incited. Within seconds, the only evidence left of her was an outrageously loud hat floating on the waters of the moat.

OOO

The walls had ceased to spin, but his migraine remained. There was a small window just below the ceiling; bright noon-day light fell into his cell, cruelly illuminating the place as the sunlight bounced and glimmered off the stone and metal. Even with his eyes closed, the brightness filtered in.

"I'm sorry, Ceres," he muttered.

"So am I," came her voice.

Lloyd let out a snort, one of unbelieving regret. "Wonderful, hallucinations have begun to set in," he let out with a hoarse laugh.

There was suddenly both a splash of cold water to his face, and a shadow over him – respite from the agonizing sunlight. Lloyd's eyes scrunched reflexively as the water hit him; he opened them gingerly thereafter. Ceres stood over him in silhouette. "I'm damsel-in-distressing your ass out of here," she stated.

"Who knew my delusions would be so true to form."

Ceres rolled her eyes and wrung out her shirt again over Lloyd's face. This time the cold water caught him in the mouth; he sputtered and coughed, sitting up quickly. She knelt down beside him, wet hair in tangles around her face. Lloyd refused to look her in the eye; he stared straight forward instead.

"I'm not sure if you dream when you're dead – but I dreamt of you for all of that time I was falling." A few drops dripped down onto his pants, and he eyed them studiously. A hand tentatively went to a strand of Ceres' ebony hair; he held it between thumb and finger experimentally, testing its reality.

"I'm real, you moron," she muttered.

"Ceres?" Lloyd baffled, turning to her. He realized then, the droplets hadn't been from her hair – but from her eyes.

She wrapped her arms around him ferociously and buried her head into his chest. "I think I hate you, but I'm too damn happy at the moment to care," she muffled.

Lloyd hugged her tightly. "I missed you too."

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Hmm, so I had it set in my head that this story was DEAD. (no rhyme intended) But it nagged at me, and I hated to think that I had let down both my Aislin and my readers. Then inspiration struck and I realized, what a waste of time it would be if I didn't keep this thing going after 14 chapters! Thank you for reading. Please review. Cheers, k.ramsey