Chad squinted. If they had to defeat these pirates, save the people and all that, this fog certainly didn't want them to.

He had an uncle, though the man was a dim memory. He looked rather like him-tawny porcupine hair, dark eyes-but with a long, narrow face, a prominent nose, and a lively smile-his eyes bright and dancing instead of Chad's still and stagnant ones.

"You look more like your uncle than me sometimes" An echoing and blurry voice told him, his father's, teasing and high-pitched.

Roy elbowed him, hard, and Chad coughed from the sheer force, afraid for a moment of soiling Roy's cape. Why did he wear it? It was a shade of blue, a deep and watery color, but stained in loudly contrasting ways. Deeper tears ran along the ragged edge. A slight breeze barely fluttered it. It must be heavy from dirt and the other crap.

"We're up, follow-" Roy marched on ahead, and Chad strode easily after. He would normally be a little taller than Roy, but the young lord's boots gave him considerable elevation.

Chad narrowed his eyes at the archer foe ahead of him and Roy. For now, there would be no orders, no shouts and strong faces-just two men fighting side by side, back to back, comrades to their ends. United by the way of the sword, the gleam, the shing and slash. Together through a force, a people for the people.

A second archer slid to face Merlinus, a whir of an arrow and…

Brigind reared up, hee-hawing as though galloping to hell-Merlinus remained unfazed, an alive look in his eyes, his whimsical mustache seeming to grow sinister. The archer, clothed in red as though already beaten, stumbled backward wide-eyed and landed on his rear. Roy caught the fleeing merchant's eye and saluted. The blue-haired cart driver winked back. Chad, smiling, raised his hand haltingly, and Merlinus waved. Brigind brayed and brayed, tearing over the ground as fast, or faster as any paladin's steed.

Chad felt an uneasiness as their forces split. He noticed Lance talking rapidly to Roy, but the red-haired kid kept shaking his head and speaking few words. Feriat, Lance's horse, pawed the ground nervously and swished her tail, head down and looking worried.

Eventually Roy held up his hands and refused to talk, so Lance tossed his head in a way so similar to Feriat and trotted over to his group.

"Roy's group'll be okay, I don't see what he's worried about. He had both Marcus and Dieck." Lugh made a childlike, pouty expression. Chad grinned, trying to conceal it with his hand, but Lugh caught it. Feeling uncomfortable heat and prickliness in his hair, he pulled his cloak up over his chin. Lugh turned around, but his shaking shoulders gave him away. Perhaps Lugh was too easy a laugher sometimes…

In a purposeful manner, group two marched south, Lance in front. Noah, a new cavalier with a seemingly dim-witted horse, stood second. Lugh's face had turned determined, and he was a holding a tome Chad vaguely remembered somehow. Wait...he'd stolen it from that chest in the blue-gray castle...His green-haired friend kept glancing down at the magical book.

Lance was up first, expertly throwing his lance. Cavaliers had a certain way with the spear-like weapon that increased the majesty of something that was otherwise a pointed stick.

Next to Lugh, who was on his right, was a new recruit-a pretty young female myrmidon with dark gray hair. Chad knew her sword was a unique katana and Noah had trained her. She was wearing light green. She had thought she was helping by being on the enemy's side, but had come to theirs to help protect the villages with them. This was all Chad knew of her. Leaning across Lugh and feeling intimidated, he cleared his throat loudly.

"Excuse me, uh-ma'am, what's yer-your, I mean, name?" She gave him a look as if he were a particularly demented bird, with wings instead of a head or talons for a beak.

"It's Fir." She said shortly, without expression.

Chad opened his mouth, nodded, and closed it, backing up a few steps and then leaning back to his original position.

"Suil, what're-?" Noah stared at his horse, who had shoved past Lance and Feriat and was snorting at the foes. One attacked Noah, who fought back with stabs of his own. The bridge was too narrow for another to fight alongside him, and suddenly there were shouts and neighs; Noah's steed had bucked him off and jumped into the water, panicking. Feriat stepped back a pace or two, clearly unsettled by such an action. Lance raised his javelin, about to throw.

Noah was still fighting, but the lance was more difficult to wield on two feet instead of four. With a flash of magical fire, Noah was kneeling, and Chad felt relieved that he could not see the man's condition. The scent that so populated battlefields drifted over and around them, and he pressed his teeth together tightly. Fir gasped and passed Lugh and Chad, making to jump in the water-Chad tried to grab her hand. She sunk so quickly, one arm flailing out-the water was deeper than it looked by leaps and bounds-Chad and Lugh grabbed her and heaved her out. Her face was hatred and relief simultaneously. Lance raised his javelin high above his head and threw. An archer fired. Both hit their targets at the same time.

Noah collapsed, a crunching noise from the arrow that killed him emanating among the thud. The archer fell backward, downed by the javelin.

Fir screamed, and Chad did not know so much could be in one sound.

Lance rode forward, swinging his weapon, and with yells the group charged, stabbing and invincible. Fir whirled through, katana flashing.

They stood, tired, breathing hard.

Chad looked out to sea, beyond the bridge. Noah's horse was gone-swallowed up, by mist or water.

As the enemies poured in, group two knew they would be ready. Fir's sword was bloodied, and a rage was on her face that was too pure to be described by simple words.

An unearthly wail sliced up the air, coming from somewhere in the fog, carrying clearly. Lugh's eyes got so wide they might've burst. He mouthed something. Chad felt he couldn't feel anything else-just the scream. A scream of...sadness. He whipped around to Lugh, who was still mouthing the word, the same thing repeating.

Roy. Roy. Roy.

Panic and an infectious terror assaulted him. Someone was dead, someone was dead-it could be anyone there-Shin, a new recruit who shot enemies by horseback, Wolt, the puppy-faced green archer. Elen, who never smiled, Saul with laughter to match Lugh's. Marcus-the unshakable, eternal, gruff old man...it could be Dieck, unsociable but fierce, the swordmaster, Marcus' recent comrade-the quiet knight Barth.

The enemy pirates were still, like them, staring upward, with frightened eyes. Chad blinked very slowly. He walked forward, past Lance, who was in front. Lugh followed, Fir after. The wail was fading, more like crying now, and the pirates shook their heads, squinting, and ran at Chad.

Even in previous battles, he had never felt so conscious. The foes' axes seemed to barely move, and his steel sword talked to him, and he back in a regular exchange. His cloak whispered with every dodge, taunts to them or encouragement to him. The blood on his hands dried, a red glove, and the pirates' looks of surprise, shock even at their death by a mere thief. Never had he dreamed of being so singular, being two but becoming one. They fell, bodies landing at all angles, and sometimes the newcomers slipped on their blood or surprised faces of carved ice expressions...Sometimes a fire whizzed by or dark gray hair and a wind of katana was near. He was a gate with its own traps, sometimes dancing back or forward, his sword his partner.

The steel one even split, a small shattering, and the foe rushed forward-he drew his Armorslayer, plunging it into his adversary-a new layer for his gloves and it blended with his cloak, but still he felt weightless.

"There aren't any more, Chad." Lugh had tapped his shoulder. Chad took a deep breath and felt himself swaying. He fell onto his knees and then forward.

"You did a great job, you really did, Lance was sitting there with his mouth open, Feriat was stunned too-I've never seen her so still, she was basically breathless!" Lugh sounded twice as sunny as normal, and Chad weakly raised his head. His friend's sheer glow of happiness matched that of an inferno or the sun. Lugh hoisted him up, patting the exhausted thief on the back. "We still have to-" His face twisted in sorrow unnaturally. "-Regroup."

Chad thought of Noah and his cowardly horse, of Roy's wail through the fog. Tears welled up in his eyes, and he saw no harm in letting them fall.

They passed the cliff edge, everyone but Saul, who Lugh said had joined their group and was visiting a village back a ways. "He said 'I am not a proper messenger for death' and wouldn't say any more. It was so unlike him…" Lugh said worriedly.

This awakened Chad's feet, and Lugh jerked away in surprise. He was almost sprinting over the sparse, dry golden grass, even though his legs felt sunk with thin daggers.

He gasped as the first group approached.

Dieck was holding Roy-at first Chad thought he had died-in both arms, the teenager passed out but only slightly injured. Elen looked harried and sadder than normal, Shin was wounded, slung over his horse, who was dutifully following the group. Wolt and Sue were red-eyed. Chad realized the rest looked similar, their faces shiny or stiff. The whole group was huddled together, looking vulnerable, old, and scared.

"He went on a rampage after Marcus-passed." Dieck's voice was tightly controlled. There were many more rips in his clothes than when Chad had last seen him. "And Barth is dead, he didn't take that-" A sob escaped him. "-Sitting-" Another, he was breaking. "-Down-" He knelt, defeated, unable to say more as he finally cracked.

"Dieck." Lance's voice was thick and choked. "Saul has a silver sword. He will give it to you. Attack their boss. Lugh will finish him off."

Chad could not see Dieck's eyes when he nodded, and he knew, as he too joined the chorus of tears, whimpers, sobs, and wails, he would not see the others' eyes for a while, not until the song was done.