YAY THE BREAK THINGIE WORKS AGAIN! YAY! I've really missed it...

Anyway, this chapter was a total pain to write. I couldn't decide how to really start the story, and that's why it took so long to update. Sorry.

Disclaimer: I don't own Baten Kaitos: Eternal Wings and the Lost Ocean. And on an unrelated note, BATEN KAITOS ORIGINS HAS FINALLY BEEN RELEASED! YAY!

Chapter I: Foresight

There was snow and ice everywhere.

It was the land of ice, and the snowy city, so this was not much of a surprise. The structures and roads were made of solid blue ice that shone like the surface of the ocean at high noon. Snow fell, like cotton balls floating gently back to the earth. Here the people walked on down the streets in layers of warm clothing to fend off the perpetual cold in which they lived.

The old man stood by the entrance to the palace of Kaffaljidhma minding his own business. He wore old, faded, gray rags that might once have been part of some very expensive clothing. They hung on his thin frame like laundry on a line. His clothes were inappropriate for the weather in Wazn, but he seemed completely unfazed by the intense cold. His hair and beard were the white of the surrounding snow. He leaned against the icy wall, ignoring the cold that penetrated his clothing as if it wasn't even there. His walking stick made of a dark gnarled branch lay on the ground by his feet, so he could easily bend over to get it. The old man called himself the 'Dust Eater', though what his real name was is impossible to determine.

He looked up at the palace with narrowed blue eyes, before looking back down at the item in his hand. It was a handsome silver pocket watch, with an intricate carving of an eagle in flight on the cover, and a breaching whale on the back. With a flick of this thumb he opened the watch. The face had only one number, the twelve right where it was supposed to be. Random blotches that made no sense at all had replaced the other numbers. The single black hand of the watch was pointing to a blotch were the number seven usually was.

The Dust Eater squinted at the face, staring intently at the smear the little hand was pointing to. As if he did not want to believe what he was seeing, he closed the watch, looked back up at the palace for a count of ten, then reopened the watch and looked again. The little hand was still pointing stubbornly at the spot where the number seven should be. The old man blinked, as if in disbelief or surprise. At the right angle, if one really squinted when looking at the little smudge that replaced the seven, and with a great stretch of the imagination, one could say that the tiny smear looked like some kind of four-legged animal…

The Dust Eater simply stared at the little clock face with the disbelief of someone who just saw fire rain down on their home.

"Oh dear…"

The combatants' breath froze into white mist as they panted for breath. They circled each other, never taking their eyes of the other, waiting for an opening. Kalas and Allyr's skin shone with sweat, though they stubbornly refused to let the other see how fatigued they were. Allyr had used a hair tie to keep her long brown hair in a ponytail, to keep it out of her eyes, and she was glaring at her opponent with intense concentration. Kalas quickly adjusted his grip on the sword hilt, hoping he was not giving Allyr an opening. But it was big enough. She lunged.

He brought his sword up in a tight arc, their swords meeting in a loud clatter of steel on steel that sounded like thunder. Kalas twisted his sword to free himself from the parry, and slashed downward at Allyr's unprotected side. She sidestepped tried to thrust her sword into his back. He spun around, deflecting the blow with a swipe of his sword. They returned to circling each other, like a pair of animals each measuring the other up.

They leapt at each other again, trading more blows, until Allyr broke through his guard and whacked the back of his knees with the flat of her blade, making him fall. As he rolled over to stand up again, he found himself faced with the point of Allyr's sword. Kalas threw his arms up, a signal of defeat, "Okay! Okay!" he said, "You win!"

Allyr grinned and lowered her sword. There was a loud cheer from the assembled knights who lined the room to watch the sparring match. There was also an audible metallic clinking as gold changed hands. Kalas stood up, rolling his shoulders. "So," said Allyr, still grinning at him, "Best five out of nine?" There was an encouraging cheer from the knights who normally did not get this kind of break or entertainment.

"No," said Kalas, flatly, "I'm done." Addressing the knights as a whole, he added, "Find something else to bet on!"

There was a disappointed muttering. Then all of the knights slowly milled out of the training room to return to their various duties. Kalas strode over to the wall and hung his dull practice sword up on a bracket on the wall. Allyr walked up to him and hung her sword up as well. "That's the first time I've won that many in a row." She said, a smile on her face, "You're getting rusty."

"Yeah, yeah," said Kalas grumpily, fighting back a yawn.

"No one likes a sore loser!" teased Allyr.

Allyr had been living in Kaffaljidhma for the past five years. After her two years as Kalas's Guardian, she had returned to her own world. When he came to her two months later as a Spirit, Allyr knew she had to return to his world to save her friend. She had not been able to find a way back. Allyr had to start her life from scratch, and so joined the Wazn knights. After only a year they pulled her out of training to become a bodyguard for the Ice Queen and her family, which was something of a joke among the knights, as they all knew she had been Kalas's Guardian Spirit. She and Kalas had sparred like they just had almost every day over the past five years. At first he just came down to help her train a little more. But as she got better, their sparring matches became fiercer and longer. Eventually it became a daily event for the knights. Even some of the more senior knights would stop by to watch, and maybe even join in betting on which of the contestants would win that day's rounds.

"Gloat all you want," said Kalas, rolling his eyes, "I'll get even with you tomorrow."

"Oh no, the last time you said that you jabbed me in the stomach." Said Allyr with the dread of someone expecting the Apocalypse to come the next day.

"Hey! Allyr!"

Kalas and Allyr turned to see a young knight of about twenty-two approach them, admiration and excitement making his green eyes sparkle. "That was amazing Allyr!" said the young knight, "That weird twisty block you did in the second round! Could you show me how to do that?"

"Of course!" said Allyr, grinning at the knight, "You know I like to show off Rowan."

The knight, Rowan, was short, only about five four, and was seemingly always energetic. He had mousy brown hair and bright green eyes, and was wearing a uniform that was about a size too big for him. Rowan and Allyr had met when Allyr had first joined the knights. They had really gotten to know each other then they discovered that neither knew anything about swordplay. They had been tight friends ever since. Allyr turned to Kalas, "You can go back up to the palace if you want," said Allyr, "I'll stay here for a while longer. Think you can not sustain any critical injuries for an hour or so?"

"Yeah, yeah," said Kalas, "I'll be fine,"

Allyr nodded and took her practice sword off the wall and lead Rowan off to the space where she and Kalas had just sparred to show him the block. Kalas walked out, he didn't feel much like staying anyway. Automatically he walked back to the palace as his thoughts aimlessly drifted like sheep that had strayed from the shepherd. He was feeling tired, so maybe getting some extra sleep in would be a nice idea…

He came back to reality when he walked onto the bottom landing of the Great Staircase in the palace, only to meet a small group of Imperials who appeared to be waiting for something. Two were in military uniform, the other with his fancy and glittery outfit with gold thread every place imaginable appeared to be the one with the reason for coming.

"Who the hell are you and what do you want?" asked Kalas brusquely. Even after Lyude had become Emperor of Alfard, Kalas still lacked trust and patience with the Imperials, and his fatigue only compounded the problem.

The Imperial in the fancy uniform bowed his head to Kalas. This only managed to irritate him more, though it seemed that the man was just trying to be polite. "I am a herald from his Magnificence, Emperor Lyude," said the Glittery One, "And I have a message for the Ice Queen and her husband."

"What is it?" asked Kalas bluntly.

"A woman who introduced herself as Barnette has gone to bring her Majesty here," said the herald, "I wish to speak to both of you."

Whatever happened to other people obeying the Ice Queen? Thought Kalas. As if by magic, Xelha closely followed by Barnette came down the stairs. Xelha looked as if she had been in the middle of something and had just been pulled away. She did not seem bothered by the herald asking her to come to him.

"Hello," said Xelha warmly to the herald, "I'm the Ice Queen. You have a message for me?"

The herald showed respect by bowing his head to her again, "I have a personal message from Emperor Lyude himself," said the herald, "His Magnificence is to be married in a week, and requests your presence at the ceremony."

"Lyude's getting married?" said Kalas thickly, "Where'd this come from?"

"Who's he marrying, if you don't mind my asking?" asked Xelha politely.

"A woman from Mintaka," said the herald, "From a prominent and very old family. Will you accept the Emperor's invitation?"

"I wouldn't dream of refusing!" said Xelha cheerfully, "This will be wonderful! And we'll get to see everyone again! Won't that be wonderful Kalas?"

Kalas shrugged, "Maybe," he said noncommittally.

"We'll leave tomorrow!" said Xelha to the herald, "You can assure Emperor Lyude that we will be there!"

The herald bowed to Xelha again, and then he and his guards walked out of the palace. "Tomorrow huh?" said Kalas, as much to the room at large as to Xelha, "Great… Just… great."

There was a middle-aged woman who walked down a road in Cursa. She was wearing many layers of clothing, just like all the other inhabitants of Cursa. She was of average height, and had a husband and two kids waiting for her back home. There was nothing particularly extraordinary about her. In fact, nothing particularly out of the ordinary would happen to this nice lady. Except that she noticed The Sacks.

They were lying half-buried in a pile of snow by the Cursa port, where currently an Imperial vessel was sitting serenely like a gold bug. She noticed the sacks because she thought that the snow piled up on the icy port looked… odd somehow. She went over to the pile and knelt down to examine it. She brushed back some snow with a mittened hand, to reveal two large canvas sacks, tied at one end with thick rope. Worse yet, the sacks were moving slightly.

With shaking hands, she undid the rope at the end of one of the sacks and with horrified fascination, looked inside the sack at its contents.

The contents looked back.

"Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear!" muttered the Dust Eater as he sped along the streets of Cursa like a beetle scuttling down the soft bark of a log. He barely used his walking stick as he moved along, but had no difficulty jogging without its assistance. Something bad was coming. He had to warn someone, but who? And who would believe him even if he did find someone to warn? Who would even bother with what appeared to be the ramblings of a senile old man? Oh, but if he did tell someone and they didn't believe him, then he'd get the world's best opportunity for the greatest 'I told you so' ever.

He continued to jog down the snow-covered streets, muttering his 'oh dear's along the way. He had at least three times gone to walk right into the palace, but walked away deciding that its inhabitants would be the last people who would want to hear his warnings. Yet at the same time they were the people who needed to know the most…

"Something the matter mister?"

The Dust Eater looked down to see the speaker, a little boy with jet-black hair and eyes, dark skin, orange shorts, and a faded dark green t-shirt. "Nothing's wrong," said the Dust Eater kindly, he had always liked kids, particularly the small ones, "Don't worry your little head about it. Now why don't you go back to your parents? I'm sure they're looking all over for you."

The little kid cocked his head to one side, like a bird examining something shiny. Then his face spit into the widest grin the Dust Eater had ever seen. It seemed almost unnatural, "Are you afraid mister?" the little boy asked cheerfully.

The Dust Eater blinked, taken aback by the question. "I'm sorry," he said, politely, "What'd you say?"

"You are afraid!" the little boy giggled, "You are afraid!"

The Dust Eater frowned, baffled by the behavior of this little boy. Was this supposed to be some kind of joke? "I'm sorry, but I don't know what you're talking about," said the old man, "What am I supposed to be afraid of?"

The little boy giggled again, loudly this time, as he was apparently completely unable to contain himself. Then he gave the Dust Eater a friendly wave, before skipping off in a different direction. As he skipped away, the Dust Eater could clearly hear the little boy say in a singsong voice, "Who's afraid of the Big Bad Wolf?"

The Dust Eater stared at the little kid until he skipped around a corner and out of sight. He stood in the middle of the snowy street, leaning slightly on his old walking stick. Long after the boy had vanished, the old man would keep staring in the direction the child had left, apparently contemplating the strange meeting.

"Oh dear…"

Night caressed the world. Stars danced in the clear skies, and the silence was soft and complete. All the inhabitants of Cursa and Kaffaljidhma were deep in the soft depths of sleep. Save one.

Kalas had not been sleeping well recently anyway. He was awake, and standing by the balcony rails in the bedroom he shared with Xelha. He leaned on the rails, his eyes closed. He wore just his shorts and his sandals, as standing on ice was something he never got used to.

Damn it, he thought glumly, rubbing an eye, Insomnia really sucks. He opened his eyes and looked out at the city, just to have something to stare at. Maybe if the damn nightmares would go away for a few days…

He stood up straight and stretched, deciding that it was very unlikely that he was going to get any more sleep that night. He looked over at Xelha, who was still lying on the bed and could be in a coma for all he could tell. Maybe I'll go and walk around the palace or something, he thought hazily. He was feeling a little antsy, and maybe movement would make him tired enough to actually sleep. He quickly pulled on a shirt and walked quietly out of the room, as to not disturb Xelha.

He walked out onto the top landing of the Great Staircase that went all the way up and down the palace like a spine. Kalas walked out to the top step, barely noticing the doors that lead to the throne room and ritual room, which were also on that floor. Kalas looked down the staircase to see if anyone else was around who might ask him, hypocritically, why he was up so late…

…And almost died from pure shock.

There was someone else there. Down at the next landing below Kalas, there was a boy of about thirteen who started up at him with trusting green eyes. The boy had skin so pale it was almost white. His fair hair was blonde, and held back in a large bun that was held together by some ripped up red fabric. He had a gray bandana around his neck, wore sandals, and white shirt and pants. The most unusual of the boy's features were the boy's ears, which were slightly pointed.

"F…Fee?" Kalas said, chocking out the word as if it caused him pain.

The boy seemed to hesitate, as if he had worked up the nerve to do something he did not want to do, and his courage was now in danger of leaving him. There was a horrible stillness, as if the whole world had ceased to turn, and time had somehow died. This must be another nightmare, thought Kalas as his mind continued to reel and explosions went of inside his brain, I'm still asleep and I'm having another nightmare. That's the only way this can be happening… But I'm not dreaming. I know I'm awake. Dreams don't feel this real. Then the boy that looked so much like his younger brother turned and ran away from Kalas.

"W… wait! WAIT! DON'T GO!" shouted Kalas, sprinting after the boy, jumping down three steps at a time. He inevitably stumbled and almost tripped more times than he cared to count. But the boy he was pursuing seemed to be getting away. Kalas practically fell onto the last landing at the bottom of the steps from pure exhaustion. As he panted he looked around, looking for the boy he had seen. There were the twin statues of the white dragon elegantly carved from shining blue ice. There was the hallway leading outside the palace, and the empty staircase running up behind him, but no Fee. The boy had completely vanished.

What's going on? Wondered Kalas as he tried to catch his breath, That couldn't have been Fee. I know he's dead. But that couldn't have been anyone else. That kid looked just like Fee… Kalas looked back up the Staircase, wondering vaguely if anyone had heard him shouting earlier. He wasn't sure how he would explain himself if someone asked him what he had been shouting about.

He he... my plot is underway... (Not that it wasn't underway since the prologue.)

Oh, and if there are any mistakes in Fee's description (though I swear I got the pointy ear thing right) please say so in a review. It's been ages since I saw him in the game, and I only vaguely remember what he looks like. Much appreciated.

One last note: Details are going to be very, very, very, very, VERY important in this fic, particularly as I get deeper into the Big Bad Wolf thing. So because of that, and because I'm a horrible editor, I'll be taking extra time to edit my chapters before I post them. That way any anomalies/abnormalities that you may see in the story are actually supposed to be there, and are not just an error on my part. And this is also to keep the story from mutating in ways I don't want it to. (Which is what happened to poor Dreams of Rain...)

Please review, though I predict there will be at least one "WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON?" or something similar.