Moving this plot right along, finally! Also, I had way too much fun with this chapter. I am sorry on the wait for it. It has been a tough month already and I finally got to work on it the beginning of last week. But I'm signing it off right here and hoping it will hold you off until my other update is complete.

Enjoy! Because really. It's a good chapter.

The exhilaration of flight was very short-lived.

Van's wings caught the updraft awkwardly as he brushed over the flat rooftop of the glitzy Mystess and glided wobbly higher and higher into the night sky. He rose up, hovering, circling like a hawk stalking prey; surveying through the blasting lights for a proper place to land. Glancing down and then regretting it with a lurch in her stomach, Hitomi noticed the entrance, which had once been filled to the brim with expectant party-goers, was completely deserted in the wake of the random pandemonium. The ritzy rope-lights lay broken like a mass of tangled snakes on the littered concrete. Scattered trash, bits of debris, and occasional scraps of fabric tossed in the evening wind on the fluorescently bright concrete. The insanely loud dub-step that had once pulsed her ears to oblivion was gone. Traded instead was a lofty silence that was somehow worse than the music.

"You're taking us to the roof?" Her voice was carried away; swept by the breeze. She felt the muscles on Van's shoulder's twitch as his wings gave another long slap on the wind.

"It is safer than the ground."

She gasped as he spread his wings as far as they would go and caught the blustering wind through the softer secondary feathers. It effectively slowed their altitude, but Hitomi's stomach felt like it was in her chest as they suddenly dropped several feet. She let out an undignified squeal. Biting back her gulps of fear, she tightened her grip around his tan neck and buried her forehead into his throat. He let out a strangled grunt.

"You are choking me."

"Then land already."

He folded his wings, up and down, beating the ground roughly and disturbing the numerous cigarette butts and various empty bottles that plagued the top of the bar left from past employees. Flicking his wings to the left and then right, he finally lowered to a rough landing near a fire escape door. With a deep breath, Van gently set her shaking heeled feet on the ground and she hobbled unsteadily away from him to distanced herself. She leaned against the painted brick wall of the escape, her breaths coming in short gasps. The right side of her body, the part that had touched him, was boiling hot; enough to make sweat form at her fake hairline. Her green eyes danced to the ground, to the lit up sky, to his bare chest – he was so thin – to his large white wings, and back down to a discarded beer can laying innocently the ground. Lifting her shaking hand, she wiped the perspiration off her forehead with nervous fingers. Her body felt like a furnace.

The silence between them deepened with thick awkwardness. Wrapping one arm around her exposed stomach, Hitomi brushed the false long hair forward over her shoulders to help hide her visible chest. Flicking her green eyes on him with quivering bravery, she forced herself to keep eye-contact despite her deeply blushing face.

She had to say something.

"Where is-"

"I have-"

They both stopped. His beautiful wings fluffed and twitched; several feathers slipping away and falling to the ground around his dirty sneakers. The winged-man's tan hands clenched as if he didn't know what to do with them and the veins in his forearm stretching prominently. Gliding her eyes back on his serious face, she nodded to him.

"Go ahead. What were you going to say?"

"Please, you first," he conceded politely.

"Where is Chordata?"

"I do not know. I lost her in the riot."

"Oh, I'm sorry, we should go find her."

"She can take care of herself. Chordata is capable."

A breeze whistled past; drilling in the copious amounts of awkwardness that flourished between them.

Finally, she gestured lamely to his long white wings, which had folded themselves beautifully on his tan shoulder blades. "I had forgotten you had wings. I mean, your mother being Draconian and all, and she was obviously a direct descendant of the Atlantians, and the story where you fell off the Winged Palace trying to practice with them and your mother caught you in the air is practically common knowledge, but I guess… it just never registered in my head that you could fly. I don't know why I didn't remember…"

"They are not something I enjoy discussing." He commented lowly, his voice deep. Those sharp mahogany eyes were zeroed in on her, sometimes dropping to her exposed shoulders and neck with muted discovery. She grew even hotter under his scrutiny and wished she could just become part of the brick wall.

It was bad when they usually talked – or more realistically shouted - but being so uncovered… him without a shirt and crazy angel wings and her… she glanced down at her body and wondered if she was going to drown with all the blood rushing to her head. The party goddess she had somehow pulled forth had very quickly retreated back to the mysterious lands from whence she'd come.

And the person left behind could only wallow in the humiliation and wish she had a bathrobe.

"I…" She stopped, feeling his eyes like little pin-pricks of heat on her spray-tanned skin. "I guess I should thank you… for saving me… again… I didn't expect you to show up. I thought…" She turned her attention to the beer can again, attempting to avoid his sharp study. Van remained blissfully quiet, his feet shifting his weight from one leg to the other.

This was so confusing.

Hitomi knew she was angry at him for tricking her. She felt her stomach burn with frustration as the insults he'd spouted at her fired off in her head one by one: "…skin is as white and pale as death", "…no sense of style", "…mouth is as wide as a dog", "…do not possess the engaging nature in which to properly infiltrate a regime such as this"…

"…when I first saw you, I thought you were male…"

She hated him.

And yet…

She felt something else among the stirring embarrassment and anger that twisted her stomach at this current moment. Hitomi knew exactly what that was: relief. It was a relief to see him standing there in front of her; solid, breathing, and heart beating.

Always there. Always saving her.

But she still hated him.

God, she was so confused.

"You thought what?" His voice finally caressed the words; soft, deep, and even. Keeping her eyes on the empty alcoholic beverage, she could just see in her mind exactly what his face looked like at that current moment: a small curve on the right side of his lips, his dark hair barely covering the elegant sweep of his intelligent eyes; burrowing into her inner thoughts and feelings like an intruder. Her bare shoulders lifted into a strangely-angled shrug.

"I had thought… after all that stuff you said earlier about me… this was it. I was finally going to die."

Van remained quiet and still. Oddly, his silence gave her a drive of courage. Pushing down another twist in her belly, she stated clearly to the ground, "You make it seem like I'm expendable. Some nuisance that you have to tolerate, and yet," she lifted a hand, gestured weakly at his chest, and let out a short breath. "Here you are, Van, flying in on wings to slice the danger away with your sword. You insult me over and over and then you are just… always there. Just like back in Fanelia. Just like in the hotel. Just like at the train station. Can you explain to me why you are here? Why you are always here? If I'm some pest, then why don't you just let fate take me since it clearly wants me dead?" She let out a dark laugh, spurred on by her confession. "I don't understand you. Maybe I'm not trying hard enough to follow your thought process, but honestly, tell me what I'm supposed to think here."

"Perhaps…" The king's neck straightened further and his wings puffed out before settling down on his back once more. "Perhaps those words I spoke to you earlier in the line were unfair."

"Perhaps," she couldn't stop herself from spitting out sarcastically. "You essentially called me a man, Van."

Taking a step forward, he closed a foot of space between them. Hitomi felt her heart tense and her stomach burst with nervousness. He took another step closer and she pressed further against the rough brick. She held her breath as his tan hands lifted and dropped on either side of her shoulders; bracing themselves against the wall; trapping her between his arms. He leaned further down, his nose only three inches from hers. His body was like a furnace on her skin.

"Chordata has recently put to light a rather important matter concerning our relationship."

"O-Our relationship?" she squeaked, her green eyes widening further. Her hands lifted instinctively, hovering timidly between wanting to cover her chest or push him away. Instead, they floated in the air between their bodies with indecision.

"She informed me that I quarrel with you because I trust you."

"Trust me?"

"And against my better judgment, I do. I trust you."

"Against your better judgment? Because of trust?" She repeated in a sputter, bravely trying to meet his deep eyes. Her heart hammered and she could see the panic on her face reflected from his deep eyes. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she found herself entranced by their color. Sparks of pure crimson flashed from his dark pupil, slowly ebbing away into the familiar deep mahogany. His long lashes brushed his cheek as he closed his eyes for a brief moment and opened them again. A strange fog developed in her nervous mind as she focused on the contours of his changing expression. The pink pendant draping between his thin collarbones gave an abnormal pulse, but he didn't seem to notice.

"You're not making any sense, Van." Her eyes flickered briefly on the pendant before racing back to catch his lips falling into a strong frown. "You trust me, but you insult me because of it. What am I supposed to think about that?"

"I will explain. You must comprehend I did not intend for any harm to befall you. Chordata clarified how you are feeling, and therefore, I must express at least three good explanations as to why I have behaved in such a manner." The lean muscles on his arms flexed as one. She took a deep breath, trying to concentrate on his speech. "First and foremost, I must explicate that I am not at ease to having an outsider around me. I am used to only Chordata. She has been my lone confidant for thirteen years and has trained me everything I know about this world. Taking my secret, my life, my destiny and trusting another; I am not sure I can adapt to it. But I have asked you to help me and you have done very well; therefore, I must force myself to…"

Hitomi blinked rapidly, but her mind was growing steadily blurred. The heat of his body blasted her like a radiator and beads of sweat rolled down her neck to her lower back. The pendant was like a glowing torch. Her green eyes – much like a moth attracted to the flame - slipped from his face to focus fully on the necklace.

"… my tactics always working out flawlessly…" His voice was faltering, fading. The heat was practically unbearable. "… not comfortable having my ideas interrogated by…" She couldn't tell if he'd stopped talking, but she knew she was falling, the only thing holding her, supporting her, was the sight of the fiery pendant, enveloping her senses. Suddenly, she felt the skin of strong arms wrapped around her body as she leaned forward, her face colliding with his thin chest; her forehead pressing on the pulsating necklace.

"Hitomi!..."

Her name echoed like a foreshadowing thought, a mere flicker from a random reality. She was tossed in the bright pinkish-hued obscurity, her vision washed in brushes of past and present like a painter's sporadic canvas. Voices, conversations, whispers – sometimes in her voice and other times between someone familiar weaved in and out of her consciousness.

A blustering heat scorched the vague conversations and covered her with a vision of raging battles. Thousands crying, stabbing, bleeding, a dark valley filled to the brim with corpses… but not in this lifetime – in another reality with the result of a different decision, a different world. Billions of deaths; their lost spirits blasted red and screaming before her eyes sinking in the countless what ifs, what had been, and what could be. The battlefields were replaced by a fiery red Guymelef parrying an attack from a navy blue with gold lash gears. The sky burned orange in the fading sunlight as another brief clash of swords produced a violent upsurge of sparks and burst into her mind, tumbled together in a sickening mix of colors.

Meshing together, it unveiled a foggy picture of her current self in Van's strong arms; his wings outspread, holding her close over the glittering building. Reaching with unseen fingertips, she tried to grasp that familiar reality, but just as she touched it, the picture melted into an unknown younger version of herself. A beige school-girl uniform and a sweet smile spread on her lips and she knew she was seeing herself in another life. A kinder, gentler Hitomi. She was stronger in this alternate world, but more innocent. A pure childlike foolishness in her green eyes. A glowing pink pendant around her neck…

Gasping, Hitomi watched helpless as her younger self's smile fell and a brush of fear crossed her face. The world under her feet was beginning to crumble; broken jagged rocks falling away. She fell, tumbling into the darkness, her screams pulsing in her ears. But there was nothing Hitomi could do as she watched her younger self plummet further and further into a dark abyss.

But then… a tan outstretched hand reached for hers; grabbing hold of her wrist and pulling her gently into solid comforting arms. White wings blasting forth from his back, he was so young, soft, his face unmarked by the strangling loneliness and grief like the Van she knew. The usual hard mahogany eyes were beautifully rich in kindness and warmth. Her younger self wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and she watched him bury his nose briefly in her short hair; closing those hypnotic eyes happily. The familiar turn of his mouth was not a sardonic smirk, but one of contentment; bliss reserved just for this moment.

"…if love is surrender, then whose war is it anyway…?"

But… this wasn't right.

Another Van, another Hitomi, together in another destiny.

This was not the Van she knew.

This was not her.

Suddenly, with a jolting, almost sickening, halt, her vision crashed headfirst into a black wall and the scene before her broke into a deep shadow. All was silent, everything dark. The smiling faces of her and Van were gone from her eyes, though the happiness together lingered in her thoughts. As her eyes cleared, they began to see a circular chamber, like the Chapellieur al' Dragoon, but so much colder, larger, and menacing. A crashing echo, the sound of a metal door slamming shut. A figure shrouded in an equally black cloak walking closer and closer to a strange pedestal in the middle of the freezing chamber. She felt more than saw the metal of his right arm soaking in the chill while his warm fleshy left arm developed goose-flesh. The cowl of his hood kept him a mystery; the only visible feature was a line of thin lips on a strong jawline. The stranger's boots clicked leisurely, creating snapping rhythmic pulses that bounced around the empty room.

But… it wasn't empty. The hooded man neared closer to the pedestal and reached with the unnaturally curved mechanical fingers to the initiation device on top. Pressing a sequence of buttons and switches with his clawed fingertips, a huge globing screen fizzled into activation in the middle of the room; green frost of a slow connection covering the display. It enveloped the room in a sickening hue. The screen fizzled and popped briefly to clear on a large face…

The face of someone very familiar. Probably the most famous man in all of Gaea.

Dornkirk…

"Austuria is distracted," the man in the dark cloak spoke smoothly, his voice soft and even. "It is as you predicted, My Emperor. The Dragon Slayers' stealth cloak attacks on the northern villages have forced Austuria to look towards Freud as the instigators. We have acted fast in case their government decides to take the Austurian Royal Family into hiding."

"What of the convoy?" The mouth of the face on the screen jerked upward through a stringy, curled white beard.

"Meiden has confirmation that his son's ship, the Fassa Merchant Convoy, stocks the alchemy bomb. I have sent one of my most trusted infiltrators to make sure the procedure runs as planned. Joko just sent word they are readying the invading forces. It is only a matter of time now. The ship will leave the docks within the hour now that the storm has cleared. Your dream will come to fruition, My Emperor."

"The merchant's son is unknowing of the plans?"

"The boy is ignorant. Meiden has seen to it."

"Good. I expect you have ordered the boy's execution once the ship takes off?"

"My infiltrator is willing. The boy will die tonight." The man bowed lowly to the screen. "And as per your request, Meiden Fassa will be apprehended as soon as the bomb is dropped on Palas. Dilandau is tailing him as we speak. I have already sent the demands to sort through his illegal wares. Turning him over to the Austurian Government as the instigator for the alchemy bomb will ensure our cover is not blown. No one will believe his story. They will only want blind justice."

The blurry face of the old man popped in and out for a moment before his barely visible eyebrows curled together. "And justice they will have it. There is something you are not telling me, Strategos. What is it?"

Though she could not see the robed man's face, she saw him take one step back before straightening his back swiftly. "There is nothing-"

"Do not lie to me!" The old man's voice roared like a static lion around the bouncing chamber and the speakers fizzled and popped .There was a frightening silence as the echo faded considerably.

The man said slowly, "There… there have been complications with one of the Generations of the BE READY program… I did not want to alarm you."

"What complications?"

"My Emperor… they are not adapting…."

"Explain, Strategos."

"The program in itself is a flawless system, but there have been a few minor breakdowns in the mental and physical constructions of the Bio-Generated Experimental Receptacles Exposed to Approved Durable Younglings."

"And what are these minor constructions?"

The dark-cloaked man obviously didn't want to specify as he bowed low to the screen and spoke to the floor. "As of last week, three BE READYs were discovered in what the caretaker describes as a comatose state in their rooms. Beyond all encouragement to arise, it has been concluded their brains have shut down the receptacle programs we instilled in their 'sense' assembly. One lost both the ability to see and hear three days ago. We have disposed of them, but there have been more since yesterday. Two came back from the field screaming their throats raw in strange alien languages. Our newest case just this morning was pulled off the battlefield. Once opening his cock-pit, it found he had unstrapped his entire body and had chewed off four of his fingers. All of been terminated.

"So the brief stealth attack on the Austurian border patrol before..."

"I had Dilandau signal the withdrawal for more than one reason, My Emperor."

"What have the caretakers done to solve this problem? I cannot afford to put down every one of my BE READY warriors, Strategos. Not when so much is at stake. Not when I am so close to my goal."

The man squared his shoulders and lifted his head with a sense of bravery. "According to Jajuka, the unbalancing nature of these phenomenal cases all correlate with the same Generation."

"Which Generation?"

"The Third. The caretakers are currently testing whether age is the instigator. The Third Generation have recently hit puberty…"

The man in the screen fell silent. Then, "Dilandau is part of this Generation, is he not?"

"...Yes, My Emperor, he is, but he has not shown any signs of mental deterioration."

Another wave of suppressed quiet brushed between the two men and with it came a rolling swirl of green and black before Hitomi's eyes. The scene distorted itself in the filtering realities. There was a brief flash of the man's metal hand reflecting in the screen's light; clenched and trembling.

One last sentence spilled into her ears before the scene collapsed around her.

"For my future's sake, I hope you are right."

She fell awkwardly against his body.

And he shouted her name in surprise.

Her long hair draped in her face and tickled his exposed stomach.

Her forehead pressed the pendant into his ribs.

Inhaling slowly with his lips barely open and his oration caught in his throat, Van felt her body give a strange shudder against his before her legs gave way completely to the ground. Almost instinctual, he caught her falling body and hoisted her easily into his arms. The woman twitched briefly, her right arm rising from her side, reaching to the sky as if to grasp something important.

Van knew these signs. Another pulse of his pendant enveloped her and her hand fell back lifelessly.

"Magic…" He whispered to himself as if to solidify what he was seeing. Her eyes flew open with a strangled gasp, but she remained limp in his arms. "I knew there was something about you. You have magic after all." As much as he wanted to fight it, Van couldn't help the small, satisfied smile curling up on his lips as she gave another quick intake of breath and hissed,"Seek out BE READY. Seek out the lamenting memoirs of the Strategos. Seek out the last of the Third Generation." Her green eyes flickered briefly on his face and a cold wind brushed against his skin, causing the hair on the back of his neck to rise. He straightened her in his arms so that her cheek rested against his chest, the pink pendant wavering brilliantly in her unfocused eyes.

"Be ready… lamenting memoirs…Third Generation," Van repeated, storing every word in his head for future review. Should he chance a question? Occasionally the magic allowed such inquiries. "Where would I find this information?"

"I will lead you…"

The black-haired king blinked, his mahogany eyes slipping over the girl's stoic features with confusion. "You, I mean, she cannot possibly know. And what do you mean, you will lead me? She can channel magic, but she is not the consciousness of it. She is not-"

"I am her. And she is me. We are one."

Van was frozen, his mind trying to keep up.

"Listen to me, Van," Her voice was soft like hers, but then it wasn't. She was here draped in his arms, but she was gone; lost in another vision. "There is still hope as long as you understand that the past can be changed. There exists a way to fix what has been done to this world. Seek out BE READY. Seek out the lamenting memoirs of the Strategos. Seek out the last of the Third Generation. The past can be changed because there exists another world were you did succeed. You and I stopped an evil man's fate from shaping the world in blood and fire. All of the death, all of the pain never happened. Together we triumphed. In that reality, I was pulled from another realm to help you save the world. Now you have been pulled from the past to help me save the world once more. You were called the Dragon in that place. Now that we have found each other, you will be the Dragon again…"

Van leaned in closer as her words fell into little more than a breath. He shifted her body; her lips an inch from his. Though his heart beat only increased a few degrees in momentum, he was suddenly very aware of the bikini tie that tickled his forearm. His eyes fluttered briefly over the fragile piece of red shimmering fabric that innocently covered her breasts from view. The long wig tangled in the slight wind that had kicked up from their altitude. Her brilliant green eyes were dazzling, sparkling with hidden knowledge.

Knowledge he had to know.

"I keep telling you the words over and over: If love is surrender, then whose war is it anyway? Whose war are you fighting, Van Fanel? Who is your enemy?"

"What am I to do?" He asked the magic-infused girl, trying to hide the desperation in his voice. Her skin was soft in his hands and he unthinkingly trailed his fingertips only once over her naked thigh. "Who is my enemy? Where are my answers? What do you mean love is surrender? I do not understand…"

"Trust… or love… be honest with yourself for once. If you continue to hide behind thoughtlessness then your progress will go nowhere. You will remain just as you are."

"You speak to me in riddles." He whispered in frustration, closing his eyes in growing anger. "Please, please, I just want to-" He stopped as he felt her hot hand brush under his chin and her body shift in his arms. Before he could begin to comprehend what she was doing, her fingers, leaving trails of heat around his neck, wrapped around the back his head…

Suddenly, his face was pulled down.

She rose up in his arms, connecting her soft lips to his. Instantly, an explosion of surprise, alarm, and panic pushed his heart to a thunderous thrash against his ribs. As he was about to push her out of his arms, a rolling fire blasted from his lips to filled every inch of him. It continued to scorch him, developing like an uncontrollable flame. Every thought was burned away. Every rational and reasonable conclusion became a jumbled mess of ashes. She moved to wrap both her arms around his shoulders and he unthinkingly slid his hand from around her lower waist to several inches higher; the straps of her top tangling in his fingers. He tilted his head further, reflexively deepening the kiss and increasing the fire in his body, relishing in the feeling. Van unknowingly opened his mouth against hers and his tongue touched her bottom lip. With a quiet moan from her throat, she twisted further so his left arm had to lower her legs gently to the ground and she, very willingly and eagerly, pressed her body against his. With a growl of approval, his hands were free to roam the curves of her, one hand caressing her hip and the other around her small back.

Then she opened her mouth to his.

And the heat grew into an inferno.

Visions of her burst into his head from his closed eyes: short, tossed brown hair; sparkling, large, green eyes filled with vexation and intelligence; a girl with pride, yet humility; self –determination and self-sacrifice.

The magic – no – she had told him that they had been together before…

The Hitomi in his mind, who scowled at him angrily in his mind, slowly transformed as his tongue touched with hers. The clever sharp pricks of her green eyes softened. Her skin became smoother; radiating in a trusting innocence. Her blue jacket transformed into a cream sweater tied with a red bow at her neck. Her dirty jeans were traded for a simple skirt that came to her knees.

Another version of her. A younger one.

A flash of fear whisked into her young eyes and she fell as the rock beneath her feet broke away. As if on instinct with the vision, Van's wings expanded wide as he continued to kiss her; to hold her and feel his body roar with the power…

He was lost in that moment. Caught between the two halves. At one instance, he was holding her tightly in his arms, her hands lost in his hair. Yet, he felt the desperation, the fear, flying after her as she fell into darkness, his hand reaching out to save her…

The small, scorching fingers that were buried in his long locks moved suddenly to his jaw and he felt the connected heat extinguish as she shoved roughly on his face. With a gasp, he let her go and her heeled feet clattered on the concrete; dancing away until her back hit the brick wall of the fire escape with an audible thump. They panted, eyes wide, gasping for breath, staring at each other in mirrored fear and shock. The magic was gone. She had come back to her senses.

And they had been… well, all over each other, really…

"What… What…" she couldn't seem to collect her thoughts.

Swallowing thickly, Van lifted a hand to cover his mouth; his lips still tingling with the dying embers of their embrace. Breathless, his mahogany eyes drank in the sight of her heaving breasts and he fought the inexplicable urge to step in for another round. Sucking in a deep breath that filled his lungs to the brim, he blew out the breath long and slow. Realizing that his wings were ruffled a bit too obviously, he released them with another deep breath and the white feathers laced into the wind. Three flipped around her and burrowed in her fake wig. He had a vision of himself stripping off those tangled locks and brushing his fingers through her short hair.

Oh, God, he was still too in the moment. He needed to calm down. She was showing far too much skin for him to gather his rationality. Turning around, he put his back to her as he forced his body to get under control. Embarrassingly under control.

"You k-kissed…"

"You kissed me," he countered sharply, still not looking at her. "You were in the thrall of magic and you kissed me."

"I-I-I…" She stomped to him angrily, her cheeks billowed with such a blossoming red they almost matched her bikini. Keeping the lower half of his body away from her but turning his head towards her, he saw the increasing wrath behind her wild eyes. "I did no such thing! I had a vision of some dark chamber of sorts and then I woke up with your mouth on me!" Wiping her lips with the back of her hand, she glared at him. "How dare you take advantage of me like that?!"

"I did no such thing." Van repeated her quietly, his calm voice masking his frustration. "As I stated before, you took advantage of me. You kissed me. No matter how much I fought you off, you kept pushing yourself on me…"

"Oh, really?" She snarled accusingly. "You pushed me away really hard with your tongue in my mouth, huh?"

"I am sensing you are going to be difficult about this."

Her head tilted in that familiar irritating fashion just before she really got into yelling at him. Van never realized it before, but it was kind of cute. Like a small dog trying to act like a wolf. "Of course, I'm going to be difficult! I can't believe you kissed me!"

"Once more, I was the one that was kissed by you. You kept spouting off unreasonable gibberish and then you snatched my face. The only rational sentence you uttered was to 'seek out the memoirs of the Strategos' and to find 'the last of the Third Generation' or some nonsense. I am not sure what you mean by that, but I am very positive it was not intended to end up like it did." Van finally faced her fully, his body becoming calmer as the memory of their kiss darkened in his mind. "If there is any blame for what just happened, it all falls on you."

"Why would I kiss you?" Her scowl had softened into a confused frown. "It doesn't make sense at all. I don't even like you."

"You could have fooled me a few minutes ago…" Van muttered to himself, a sour pit of bitterness appearing in his stomach at her declaration.

"But I wasn't even here! I was in the dark chamber and... Oh!" Her green eyes opened wide and she reached out to grab his arm in sudden excitement. He tried not to flinch at her touch and focused on her nose instead of her sparkling green eyes. "Van, I know what that means! I know what the Third Generation means! The vision told me! The Strategos must be that man in the cloak with the metal arm! And BE READY! Oh, it all makes sense now!" She let him go and he felt a sense of loss mixed with relief. "That man in the chamber, he said that they genetically enhanced children and they called it the Bio-Genetic something-or-other, but it's called BE READY for short, and that they were malfunctioning, or at least the third generation of them were, and they had used a convoy to drop the alchemy bomb in Palas. Fassa was the name of the merchant. They betrayed him and used him as a scape-goat to cover their tracks, and there was this face! This face on a screen! I would know that face anywhere!"

"Who are they exactly? What face?" Van inquired quietly, not following her jabbering run-on sentence.

"Zaibach!" She shouted in exasperation. "The face was Emperor Dornkirk! The First Emperor of Zaibach! The one that began this entire thing! The mastermind behind it all! We have to find out more information about BE READY! We have to find documents about this Strategos. That's what this means!"

"Well, isn't this just totes fascinating?"

Both Van and Hitomi jumped violently at the same time at the unexpected deep voice that resounded from a quite a bit a ways from their right. As one, both their head's swiveled to stare at a stranger who was slowly approached them from another fire escape at the very back. Four large SECURITY guards stationed behind his every step, the man leisurely lifted a numerously jeweled hand and brushed long brown locks out of his deviously pointed face. The wind picked up his long purple robe and tossed it briefly behind his heels. With pin-striped pants and a lacy white shirt, the man strolled closer with the confidence of a peacock. A quick hand on his the sword buckled at his hip, Van maneuvered so that Hitomi was protectively behind him. Withdrawing the blade sharply, the king saw with satisfaction as the newcomer stopped in his tracks.

"Nice vintage iron, sugarcane," he said with almost boredom as his lackeys jumped forward with a line of pistols in their thick hands. Hitomi gasped behind him as each pointed their barrel straight at his bare chest. "I can only assume you are the hottie the chicks are gossip about downstairs. The man with the sword…"

"Who are you? What are you talking about?" Van growled, his adrenaline beginning to pump through his veins.

"Oooh, sugarcane's a Fanelian!" The man let out a bright smile that didn't quite match his dark eyes. "Just listen to that accent, boys. The way he says that 'L' is totes enchanting, am I right? Drips right from the tongue..." The man took another step closer and Van tensed in his offense stance warningly. His mahogany eyes never left the brown-haired man's face, but his mind instantly tried to calculate strategic positions and tactics that he could deploy to take out the four gunmen and whoever this person was. As his thoughts drifted to the vulnerable woman behind him, he found himself on the losing side of his calculations. If he moved away, she'd be shot instantly. If he kept her behind him, his lackeys on the right or left would close in on her. If he told her to run, the most he could take out was probably three before the others caught up to her. And where would she run to? She was on the roof. She was shot as soon as she tried to escape. Van wanted to curse himself for not thinking this through.

What was going to happen to them now?

"So, my girls told me 'bout a totes massive crowd riot outside. My bros here almost went cray trying to keep the shit from hitting more fans. Ya wanna know what they said caused the probs, hmmm?" He paused in the rhetorical question briefly still smiling strangely. Van was having trouble keeping up with the man's odd word usage. "They told me a simple sugarcane was who caused the riot. Sugarcane that slipped the line and was coming to the front doors of my fine establishment with a fearsome pointy stick. Now let's wager a guess who exactly that sugarcane was. I'll give you three tries." The man let out a strange laugh that sounded more like a dog's bark.

"Wait a moment... what is he talking about?" He heard Hitomi hiss angrily at his shoulders. He fought the urge to roll his eyes. "Is he saying you started the riot? You almost got me killed?"

"With you gallivanting around for the world to see, you were going to get yourself killed." He mumbled through gritted teeth. "I was only trying to-"

"You're an idiot, Van." She stopped his excuse with a quiet snarl. "Such a stupid idiot."

The bedazzling man continued his announcement without missing a beat. "And what do I find arguing on my rooftop? A Customer Receiver I've never met before and a sugarcane packing the stick. Despite the hunky man meat I'm lookin' at, I hadn't the pleasure of seeing you properly, sweetheart. Let me get a good look at ya." The brown-haired man curled his finger beckoningly, leaning to the side to gaze behind Van's back. "Come on out, beautiful. I bite, but I only draw blood if you're into that kind of stuff."

"Tell your men to put their guns down and we can talk civilly." Her voice sounded firm and confident at his back. Hitomi stepped up to stand at Van's left side and he glanced at her briefly. Her green eyes were sharp and clear, her back straight with authority.

"Well, whaddyaknow, how diplomatically Austurian of you. I'll lower my claws if you do, honey," he smirked at the shining blade in Van's hand. The king swallowed a growl of anger as he felt Hitomi's warm fingers reach out to touch on his bicep softly. He shot down a glare of contempt at the man before flipping his sword over his wrist and sliding the weapon into his buckler against his better judgment. Her hand didn't leave his arm, but slid down to grasp gently on his wrist. The robed man gave a simple tilt of his head and the SECURITY holstered their firearms without another word.

"So, let's talk civil. A Fanelian and an Austurian were up on the roof of a bar; sounds like the beginning of a joke." He laughed without humor and clapped his hands together. His various gold bracelets jingled distractingly. "I imagine you have some reason or another for suddenly appearing on my rooftop. Personally, I find it totes a strange place for a very loud argument. You already scared away all my customers. You come up here to scare away the pigeons, too?"

The girl at his side took a deep breath and declared, "Sir, this may be sound ridiculous, but I have been trying to speak with you personally. That is why I am dressed like this. I tried to infiltrate your Customer Receivers. I am actually thankful you are giving me the chance to-"

"You are thankful that I have to close down my bar for the next several days to handle damage control because of your sexy, sword-happy friend? I am quite glad you are thankful I have lost thousands of revenue costs. The electric bill won't pay itself, ya know. Oh, who am I kidding? I'm rich. Of course, it will."

She winced despite the low chuckle in the man's throat. "Please accept my sincerest-"

"God, honey, save your apologies for someone who wants to hear them." The man scoffed with a flamboyant wave of his hand and a roll of his eyes. "Say what you want to say and leave. I've got clean-up duties."

"Things are not always as they seem." She stated clearly and everything fell silent. Van's mahogany eyes raced from her to the man and then back again. As the silence stretched, she continued with obvious embarrassment; her voice shaking on the words. "I came here because of that. Do you know anything? Anything at all?"

Though his smile never left, the good-natured twinkle in his dark eyes seemed to fizzle out. With a visible swallow even through his thick, ruffled collar, he put a hand on his hip and sighed, "You bring a lot of trouble into my place and then tell me those words. That makes a hella lot more sense now that I can see the family resemblance." Hitomi's green eyes were wide and she opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off. "I would finish off that little sentence you just spouted off with 'be ready', am I right? That's what your daddy told me he put in the letters he wrote to you."

"Yes," she whispered in a tense voice which broke slightly on the small word. Her fists clenched hard at her side. Watching her bite on her lower lip, Van instantly realized she was trying not to cry. "He put it at the end of every one of them. How did you know?"

"We will get to that later." The owner interrupted quickly. Van couldn't help but notice he had dropped the prissy way of talking. Now the man took steps closer and Van moved forward instantly to block his way on reflex. Her small hand touched his arm again and he glanced down at her.

"He knew my father, Van."

"You do not know that for sure. What if this is a trap?" He asked her, a sliver of worry and irritation setting his adrenaline back into gear.

As their eyes continued to meet, a twinkle of the younger version of her he had seen while kissing her filtered into his mind.

Innocent happiness, tear-filled relief and joy. She looked like a child. A child who was once lost, but now found her way. And it angered him that she found it in this stranger.

He frowned inwardly at his own emotions. Why was he angry because of that?

With one more warning scowl at the owner, Van reluctantly moved just enough so the man approach her. His dazzling fingers reached out and dropped on her thin shoulders; his teeth glittering from his huge grin. He was older than Van thought; deep wrinkles lined his mouth and eyes. Van instantly studied his body language, sizing the man up. His fancy boots were planted confidently on the ground. His legs straight - but the right side of his shoulder slouched lower than the left. He has an injury on his hip, Van read. He is trying to hide a limp.

The mess of brown curls flipped into his wise features as he stated, "So, little Kanzaki is all grown up and comes to my doorstep with a tall piece of crunchy sugarcane (Van's eyebrows squashed together at the nickname). Hitomi Kanzaki, who has her daddy's eyes and mindless sense of destruction. I guess you have come looking for answers. You have his journal, I presume?"

All she could do was nod.

"Funny how the world works. I was the one who mailed it to you." His smile turned gentle, reminiscent.

"He never mentioned your name. That lady, one of your Receivers, Pricilla, she called you Tristian. My father never spoke of a Tristian. He never spoke about working with anybody on his research. I always thought he did it alone."

"I requested he never mention anything except the backwards acronym at the end of his letters. Ah, names… it is too bad, really. The more we run from our meaningless titles, the more it comes back to haunt us. There are many who do not know my origins, and still others who could care less. My superior guardsmen here care about as much as sugarcane here." He brushed his long, brown locks over one shoulder and flicked Van a guarded smirk. Then he turned his dark eyes back, regarding her with a much fiercer look on his face.

One of strange pride.

"My name is Fassa, Thaioden Fassa.

Show of hands on who saw that coming? I thought it might be a bit obvious, but then I never know with my stories. Sometimes I think - oh crap, I just gave a lot away - and then I give the plot twist and no one sees it until it happens. It's kinda fun that way. I never know with you guys.

Speaking of fun. I let you into Van's brain at a very interesting moment of the story. You are welcome, everyone. :) *bows*

So, the plot thickens quite a bit - I think I added too much corn starch. As always, if you see any issues, please let me know pronto and I will fix them up. I don't have a beta-reader that watches my sentence structure and grammar, so it's just silly ol' me sitting here reading through each word and making sure everything makes sense. Funny thing is, my brain doesn't make sense half the time. And so, alas, mistakes are made.

And now enough about this. Rutilus is next.

*rubs hands together vigorously before lowering to the keyboard*

HERE. WE. GO.

blue...