Author's Notes: First, sorry for that wait! School got a bit more demanding recently. More importantly, I realized how oddly I concluded that last chapter. I will do my best to give my chapters more of a…completed feel.

Chapter Two

Dread

Anyone who ever bothered to observe a Poring for even the shortest amount of time would note their comical nature. Their fixed smile betrayed a simple temperament, with their amusing bounce always guided toward the shiniest of objects. Why Poringkind chose to scoop up the valuables they found was presently unknown, though like all such mysteries a multitude of theories existed. Whatever its reason, this particular Poring was just as much a slave to its urges as any other. It had found its way to a myriad of fun objects just a few hours back! Sure, there was that odd red stuff on the ground, but who cared? Everything was so shiny! Oh, what a joyous day it was shaping up to be! Everything had been tucked into its gelatinous body with care, and soon enough-

The assassin's strike came swiftly and without warning. The slice of the katar would seem like nothing more than a quick flash of light to the casual observer. Split neatly in half, the Poring died without even realizing it had been felled.

Ina stood over the pink mess, staring into the pile of zenny and baubles that had spilled out of the benign monster. It had probably been the fortieth one she had slain that day, and she would be quite displeased if her guess had been wrong again. To be fair, she was not ever sure if the object she desired was taken by a Poring in the first place. It was just as likely that the bandits had made off with them. If that was the case her job would be much easier; their unique appearance would guarantee retribution from the guild if they were sold on any market within the borders of Rune Midgard. She did hope for at least the slightest reward for her hard work though.

Her eyes lit up ever-so-slightly as they fell upon an irregular object in the pile. Bending into a crouch, her gloved hand reached into the mound to delicately seize the gleaming oddity. What she removed was a single katar, drenched in the Poring's red mucus. And yet, even under the tint of the jelly, the weapon's unusual color scheme was apparent to her eyes. Smooth black blades with handles of the purest white. That alone placed it into a most select category. To be sure, Ina pushed past the scattered zenny and pulled its twin free. She turned this one over, inspecting its bleached handle. Behind the veil that concealed everything below the nose, she permitted the slightest smile to form on her lips. She had found what she was looking for.

Tyrus tilted his head back, eyeing the aged knight with a gaze that fell somewhere between tired and exasperated. "You really cannot tell us then?"

The knight, who had identified himself as Alban, jerked his shoulders in what might have been a shrug. "Regrettably, I am unable to divulge what was stolen. Even I am uninformed in this area."

Tyrus quietly sighed to himself while Lucia leaned inward, her arms resting on the barrel they had erected as a makeshift table. "Do you at least know why all of this secrecy is required? Whatever used to be in there wasn't particularly well guarded, if the bodies are any indication." Tyrus silently agreed with that observation. All I see here are swordsmen and merchants. Assuming the swordsmen were assigned by the King, one would think the task of guarding such an important item would be delegated to men of greater skill than this.

One could almost see the gleam in Alban's eye as he replied to the crusader. "Actually, it was my understanding that this caravan was under the protection of more than mere swordsmen."

Tyrus' posture noticeably changed, having heard what he thought might be their first piece of relevant information since learning something was stolen in the first place.

"You see…." The knight leaned in, twisting his gray moustache with an iron-clad hand. "It was brought to my attention that, in addition to the theft, someone important died in this attack. Someone highly important." The investigators' stares implored him to go on. "I was not given much information on who this individual was," he continued in a hushed tone, "but that only confirms it. The fact that news of a death has not reached my ears only means that his being here is to be as hidden as what he was guarding."

"Why would such a thing be covered up?" Lucia inquired. She was surprised when Tyrus answered instead.

"He's saying the King did not want to draw attention to this convoy, so he charged a higher-up with guarding it in secret." He diverted his eyes from her, staring at the makeshift table in thought. "After all, if anyone found out that someone other than the usual rabble was protecting a bunch of merchants, they might wonder what was worth the defense."

Alban nodded. Lucia sat back on the crate she had chosen as her chair, arms crossed across her chest. "Alright, but unless he's hiding around here somewhere he probably died. If he was so skilled he had to be hidden, what kind of people attacked this place?"

"That is something I would like to know as well."

All three parties had a similar yet wholly different reaction to the newcomer. Tyrus, who had detected the speaker's arrival only a split second before she spoke, expressed his surprise in his eyes only. Lucia actually left her seat, but paused when she realized who had spoken. Alban had the most dramatic response of them all. He actually managed to pull the spear from where it had been strapped to his back and thrust it at the new arrival, halting the point just before it would have been driven through her face. "What reason do you have to be here?" he questioned gruffly. "This meeting is not for public viewership."

Ina's dark eyes first regarded the pole arm, followed by its wielder. "Beware your next move," she coldly cautioned, "I am not in the mood to be toyed with." Alban's eyes narrowed in response, but it was not he who made the next move.

Tyrus sighed loudly. "Same as always, I see." A faint smile crept across his lips. "Someday that dramatic flair of yours will get you killed, Ina."

The assassin's eyes shifted to the priest. Though she did not physically smile (and one could not tell anyway, thanks to her mask) the glow of her eyes returned the expression. "And your own nature will be the end of you. Most sane men would react to a sudden intrusion."

Tyrus merely shrugged helplessly. "What can I say? Lucia's the muscle, so if she doesn't respond it doesn't matter what I do."

Alban's stare traveled between the two, his bemusement plainly visible. "You are....familiar with each other?"

Lucia leaned back, propping her feet on the barrel and crossing her arms. Her eyes were half-lidded by vexation. "Unfortunately they are." She regarded Ina. "Long time no see." The assassin nodded respectfully to Lucia, but did not return the cold greeting.

Alban cautiously lowered his lance, but did not seem to drop his surly attitude towards the woman. "Be that as it may, this is still not her concern." He returned to a sitting position, propping his chin in his hand. "If you do not have a valid reason to be here, I must order you to leave us." All present expected Ina to depart. She did not. Instead, without missing a beat, she undid a large pouch that had been tied to her waist. Her hand was in and out in a split-second, leaving a single katar to clatter atop the barrel.

Lucia picked the thing up, examining it. She noted the odd coloration of the weapon. It was interesting to look at; as though someone had inverted the color. It felt somehow sticky, but she was not sure of the significance of this adhesive texture. After a moment she noticed something indented into the steel of the hilt. Letters, in a flashily cursive text, spelling out the name "Lydia". Lucia had many questions concerning this weapon, but was unwilling to state them to Ina. Tyrus, sensing this, decided to get it out.

"Ina, what exactly is this?"

The assassin crossed her arms under her breasts. She averted her gaze from the others, pitching her braid across her back. "That is the signature weapon of Orion the Nightshade, an assassin cross and direct hand of King Tristan III."

Among them, only Alban avoided drawing a blank. His aged countenance grew absolutely pale as the name spilled from Ina's lips. "That cannot….." He clasped his hands together, lowering his head to them as if in prayer. "God help us all….Orion…." Tyrus and Lucia remained silent, but in a sober state rather than a confused one. They still had no idea who Orion was, but they had pieced that he was not one to be trifled with. Especially if he was truly Transcended.

Silence lingered for a good while. Alban retained his subdued shock while the Church representatives attempted to piece their thoughts together. Ina stared off into the sunlit horizon, off to where Izude lay several miles from them. What was there to say? Tyrus was thankful that he was finally getting something out of this, but exactly what was he getting? Where was this going? Where could it possibly go? And more importantly, why was the Church involved in this? There was one thing he was sure of though, and that was that Orion was a lead. It will be difficult to follow, but Orion is a trail. If I can find out what his more recent services to the King have been, I could potentially figure out what we are trying to find. I can't just let that slip by!

Ultimately, and perhaps appropriately, it was Ina who brought the stillness to an end. Turning, she drew herself closer to Alban, so that she almost towered over him. The gaze she cast down upon the knight was one of impatience. "You seem to understand what it means to lose Orion," she began solemnly. "The fact of the matter is that the Guild has its concerns as well. My mission was to verify Orion's death and retrieve his weapons, but I must now know……" Her dark eyes narrowed, though neither Tyrus nor Lucia were able to determine what emotion brought this about. "….I must know what simple bandit possessed the skill to kill him. To kill one of the greatest Transcended to have ever walked the guild halls."

The experienced knight did not so much as stir for a time. He remained as he had, hunched and hiding from the world. Much time seemed to pass, though in actuality it could not have been any longer than thirty seconds. Distant cries of novices and beginning adventurers could be heard far off, doing battle with what Porings Ina had not already slain. The clatter from Prontera, now in full force at midday, just barely reached their ears. Lucia was sure that, if she listened hard enough, she could probably hear her companion's thoughts in the mass tranquility.

Much to everyone's relief, Alban finally stirred.

"The man you seek....the man who did this...." Not one of them could put their finger on it, but man seemed visibly shaken. And not just by the news of Orion. "This man…..he is no ordinary man…..you know of him, surely. I don't know who does not know of this individual. This.....this demon among men."

Lucia stood at this point, her impatience finally manifesting itself at its pinnacle. "Either say it or don't! Spit it out!"

Alban's head crept up, his eyes as blank as the dead. His lips moved, and all was still again. For Tyrus and Lucia, a great dread rooted itself at their cores, refusing to budge regardless of their attempts to refuse it. Even Ina, stoic as she was, could not conceal her shock at the name. They had indeed heard it. It was the name of the greatest murderer seen in some time, rivaled only by the hero-hunter Baphomet. It was fear incarnate.

"The one who killed these people is Melchior, Hunter of All."

End Notes: And after three installments, the plot rears its head!