Disclaimer: Sigh. Not mine. None of it. Well, except the story line. And Ally.

A/N: Alrighty, this is the second to last chapter! And I promise that if you stick with it, you'll get a good ending ^o^ trust me.

Ally: All's well that end's well.

Anevay: Wow, yeah, Ally, that's it in a nutshell. You actually said something useful.

Ally: Useful is my middle name, little writer.

Anevay: Yeah, see? That's what I mean. Useless.

Ally: Fear not, small peasant! Ally—

Anevay: Yeah, yeah, that's enough out of you. Now go to your room, young lady.

Ally: What are you, my mother?

Anevay: Oh no, much worse: I'm your creator.

Ally: …

Anevay: That's what I thought. The writer always wins in the end.

Escape and retrieval

The majority of their captors left. They could hear the big guards that had been left behind were now playing a game, gambling and muttering, cursing and generally acting as all thugs without brains did. Thugs meant an easy escape; they were big, stupid, and unaware of their captives' talents. That was good. It was very good. Almost too opportune a moment, but they couldn't question it.

They struck when the guards broke into an argument – probably about cheating. Mahad busted the door down, seized the closest sword, and took down the nearest two men in mere seconds. The others were slow but persistent to move; they held spears and axes, makeshift weapons, really, and jabbed at the Magician. They were almost too easy prey for him. Really, the only problem of escaping in the past weeks had been Atem and the fact that they had no idea where they were – but they would address that problem later.

The men fell, wounded or unconscious but not dead. Atem limped from the room, breathing hard with the exertion it took, perspiration on his brow. "Good work, Mahad," he managed, "Let's go."

Mahad nodded, "That was almost too easy," he said, showing the lightened mood he felt at the fact that they were free. He helped Atem from the low wooden place, and back into the forest. From there, he lifted Atem onto his back and glanced about cautiously: "Does this seem too easy to you?" he asked.

"Yes," Atem agreed, "But let's not think about that now. We're out. We have to take advantage of it." He took a deep breath to renew his strength. "Hopefully we'll be able to find someone from our company."

He didn't add that if they didn't, they were probably doomed. After all, they were across the sea. They were in unfamiliar territory, alone, with him wounded.

Mahad muttered something unintelligible before taking flight. His magic reserves were renewed and his strength returned. It had taken time for both of them to heal, otherwise they would have been out of there weeks before.

As they were gliding through the trees, Atem felt a strange restfulness he hadn't felt in a long time. He wasn't sure why – they weren't out of the woods yet, so to speak – they might not even make it home; maybe for months or years, depending on if anyone from their home found them or realized that they weren't dead. Heck, Atem wasn't even fully healed. There was always the possibility that his wounds were infected, or he would have some sort of relapse.

But somehow, Atem was comforted. For the time being, all was well. They were free from their captors. He was, more or less, healed, and Mahad's magic had returned in full.

So, he decided, he wouldn't worry about getting home just yet. For the moment, he would enjoy this moment of elation. He was alive and fairly free. It was nice while it lasted.

Mahad had sensed something was wrong as soon as they had left the forest.

There was a strange feeling in the air – one of restlessness or fear. That wasn't right. They had won the war! Shouldn't things be well now? He shook it off. Maybe he was just being paranoid.

It was only when they reached their previous company camp that he realized what was wrong.

They had won the war, but some of their comrades were still here – from Atem's company, no less. And the worst part? They were prisoners of the other side.

Maybe they had realized that their General and his commandant's bodies had not been retrieved and had stayed behind to find them – maybe they had thought Mahad was still alive. After all, they had seen Atem fall, so there was no way they would have believed he was still alive.

Either way, their decision had been a poor one. Being small in numbers, they had been easily overwhelmed.

Gently, Mahad set Atem's unconscious form under the outcropping of a cave. He crouched beside him and surveyed the camp. Obviously, he had to do something, but with Atem out of action, it was just him, and he couldn't afford to use up his magic again.

He sighed softly in frustration. He could always try healing magic on Atem, but he had done that one too many times, and without the proper ingredients for something to ease the process along, it was too risky. Atem could have a relapse in pain. He could get an infection if he didn't already have one or more. No, he had to do something that didn't involve his friend.

He touched Atem's forehead and murmured a spell of sleep. "That will keep you safe, my friend," he murmured. "It is best that you stay out of this. If anything else happens to you, Mana will have my head." He smiled at that, but it was brief. Mana: his little sister. He still had a promise to keep.

Now, what to do, what to do…

He slowly formulated a plan. It was a spur-of-the-moment, precarious, careful kind of plan, but it was the only one he had. He shrugged philosophically. It was worth a shot, wasn't it? He was a good Magician, so he could probably pull this off.

And with that encouraging thought, he began weaving his spell.

The mood in the camp was the usual: depressed, yet resigned. It was a sad but realistic fact.

It had begun as any normal day, but it turned much different when Khait went out to fetch water with two guards watching his every move. That was always fun. They were of no help but to encourage him with comments such as 'move faster, cretin' or laughter and a mean smack across the back with a whip. Cruel, yes – necessary? No. It never was.

Khait had been one of Atem's commanders: trustworthy, clear-headed, clever and good with a spear. He had short black hair, was slim, now bordering skinny due to malnutrition, and had quick reflexes. He had a grace about him that he still retained. Perhaps that was why their captors liked to pick on him so much. He was a dignified, proud figure, and if brought to his knees, the others would fall easier.

Khait found it very strange when the footsteps behind him halted, the laughter stopped, and he turned to find them standing there with blank expressions. The one with the whip had dropped the weapon. Khait eyed them strangely, setting down his empty buckets. They didn't react.

"Hello?" he asked.

No reply. Just blank stares; even kind of creepy stares.

That was when a tall man in dull, dirty and torn robes stepped from the shadows of a boulder. "Hello, Khait."

Khait jumped. His hand went for his back, where his spear would normally be, but no such luck. He narrowed his eyes at the tall man, and realization dawned on him, "No way…" he muttered, and a sly, beaming grin lit his face, "Mahad? Is that you?"

The Magician smiled. "It is good to see you."

"Likewise," Khait agreed, stepping in to shake his hand. "Where have you been? We've been looking for you for nearly two months now." He scratched his neck awkwardly, "'Course, the search went haywire when half of us gave up and went home. That was when we came under our current situation. I assume you know the situation?"

Mahad nodded, "That is why I took control of the guards." He jerked a thumb at the two blank-eyed soldiers. "It is how I plan to get everyone free."

Khait grinned, "I knew you'd have a plan." His smile faded uncertainly. "What of the General?"

There was a gleam in Mahad's eyes. "I am pleased to inform you that he is alive, Khait. Very much alive."

"Really?" Khait exclaimed, "Well, today is just a day for good news! God himself must have sent you." He shook his head, "Where is he?"

"Resting," Mahad said, folding his arms. "He is not completely healed. His wounds are extensive. I do not want to place him in any harm, so I hid him. He will be safe."

Khait nodded, "Good. So what's the plan?"

Mahad smiled.

Khait returned to camp with the fresh water and two soldiers trailing him, looking perfectly normal. No one suspected anything. Mahad was able to slip in, cloaked and undetected. The plan was executed perfectly from there: being unseen, he brought each soldier he saw under his spell. They were controlled and he was unseen.

Just like everything else that day, it went perfectly.

As Khait moved through the camp, he brought his friends with him, and Mahad brought the enemy soldiers at the rear. Pretty soon, the leader of the camp realized something was wrong, but it was a bit too late. Looking around, he realized that all of his men were sitting by the kitchens – playing with pots and pans and various other kitchen utensils.

"What are you doing?" he stormed, marching towards them. "Where are the prisoners, you baffoons? What—" entering the kitchen area, that was when his expression grew blank. He sat down, looked around, and suddenly seized the pot from the nearest man. They went into a childish quarrel of wins and protests, no words, to steal the pot back.

Mahad observed his work with satisfaction. Khait shook his head while the now freed men cheered behind them. "What exactly did you do?" he asked the Magician.

"It is fairly simple," Mahad smiled, "I placed a barrier around the kitchen. All inside cannot leave, and those inside act in their most simple and primal state: children. They will remain that way until the spell is broken, or it wears off." He shrugged, "Whichever comes first."

Khait laughed. "Brilliant!"

"Tell me," Mahad said, turning to him, "When can we get home?"

The smiles on his and the men's faces was enough to tell him the answer. Khait replied: "As soon as we send word. At the latest, they'll be here to get us home by tomorrow night. They're anxious to see your return."

Mahad couldn't stop the childish, beaming smile on his face. Before he could reply, he heard someone yell: "Mahad! What in the devil did you do to me?" They all turned to see Atem leaning on a tree with a grumpy expression on his face. He continued: "A sleeping spell? Really? I could have helped, you know! You're only making me look weak. Really, Mahad, I'm fine! I—"

But his tirade was interrupted with cheers and cries of: "General!" and then he was rushed by bodies, surrounding him. Atem shook his head, smiling. Khait made his way through, pulling Atem's arm gently around his shoulders: "Come on, General. Let's get you home."

Their transportation arrived later that night. It was almost too good to be true. But then, they deserved some good fortune.

As they boarded the boat with merry chatter, none of them looked back. They were going home. At long last, they were gong home. Home. It felt good to think about that. For once, in years, they had something to smile about.

The waves lapped at the sides of the boat. A banquet had been thrown and he had eaten well, but Atem was exhausted and ready for sleep. Besides, the sooner he was asleep, the sooner he woke, and the sooner he would be home. He could sleep for days if he wanted.

So Atem, in the comfort of his own quarters, listened to the footsteps and shouting on the main deck. It was good noise. No guns. No screams. It was a welcome and enjoyed change.

Almost like a dream.

Atem pinched his arm – hard. "Nope," he breathed, "Not dreaming."

That was when a single, suspended thought hung in the forefront of Atem's mind.

They were free. Truly free.

He was going home.

To Mana. To his family. To everything he loved. It was too good to be true. Could this really be happening? Was it really over? It was a strange feeling. A good feeling, but strange. After all this time…

Atem laughed. It was rich and happy in his baritone. "I'm going home," he whispered, a silly smile stretched from ear to ear. "I'm going home. We're going home." He laughed again. Now that he was so elated, he couldn't possibly sleep, but that was alright. Elation was a fleeting, rare emotion, and so one to be relished with great care.

How would it feel to finally be home? How would it feel to hold Mana in his arms again?

Mana, he thought, joyful. Did she think he was dead? That was a terrible thought. What if she had done something rash, knowing of his death? What if she thought Mahad was dead as well? Oh dear… he could only hope he would arrive home soon.

In his sleep, he willed the boat to move faster. Home. Home.

Anevay: Would you look at that – I finally wrote it! How was it? Good? Bad? Does it need something? I dunno, is it too all over the place?

Ally: Nah. You did fine.

Anevay: Yeah, well, you're required to say that. T&R!

Reviewers: RedRosePetal, SerenePanic, & Chistarpax!

Anevay: Thanks much, guys! I can't say how much your compliments mean to me! ^O^ To everyone else: sorry this story has been so depressing... I did warn you! One more chapter, and hopefully this one will be the best! Wish me luck!

-Anevay and Ally

(Ally: I'm just gonna… do something…)

-Ally and Anevay