Normally I would update my stories in the proper order, but for now, both Call of Destiny and The Exeter Project are doing better than Beautiful Chaos, so I'll update this fic instead of one of the others. As always, I greatly appreciate all of the feedback you readers have been giving me. I realized recently that the best thing a reader can do for a writer is give them feedback, or simply encourage them to continue by dropping a little comment about how much you enjoy their story. You all have no idea how good it feels to receive so much positive encouragement and ideas from the readers. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this chapter.

Caw!

Chrysaor, unarmored, eyed the annoying raven perched on a tree branch above him. It had been nearly a full day since he had accepted the burden of an infirm companion who wanted to cut his heart out.

Speaking of said burden, Chrysaor wondered what was taking her so long. She had left the little clearing the two of them had stopped to rest in when she claimed that she needed to relieve herself. And even though she was still in a lot of pain from the previous day, she fought through it in order to manage going to the bathroom without Chrysaor's help. Despite her obviously 'troubled' mind, the girl apparently still possessed the notion to preserve her modesty.

Caw!

The Sentinel of Lightning briefly entertained the thought of zapping the accursed raven above him, but he decided against it as he thought of the fury he would endure at the hands of his unwilling companion. Sure, she would be incapable of hurting him, but he'd rather avoid the hassle altogether.

After an hour of waiting, Chrysaor was beginning to get slightly concerned about the girl he was currently looking after. Moreover, he was concerned about his own safety. He had made sure that the girl had left her weapon here with him, but he didn't dare underestimate her; with what little he had been able to discern about the girl so far, Chrysaor had come to the conclusion that she was quite guileful. The few times she had been awake in the past day, she had bombarded him with clever riddles that baffled the Sentinel. Of course, half of the time, she was also bombarding him with insults. She seemed to shift personalities quite often, and Chrysaor had already assumed that she was mentally ill.

But while he was wary of going into the woods to search for someone so crafty, the Sentinel of Lightning knew he could not wait around forever. He had half a mind to just ditch his bizarre companion, but Chrysaor knew he would be wracked with guilt if he did so. After all, he was responsible for incapacitating the girl, and if he abandoned her here it was unlikely she would survive very long. Thankfully for her, Chrysaor was not quite as heartless as some of his Sentinel comrades.

Chrysaor decided to sling the girl's ring blade over his shoulder and went out in the general direction she had gone. Her irritating pet raven perched itself on the edge of the circular weapon as he went, uttering its thrice damned cry in Chrysaor's ears every few moments. Each consecutive squawk dramatically increased his desire to procure fried fowl for dinner.

Luckily for Archimedes, Chrysaor had decent levels of patience. He managed to ignore the bird as he cautiously watched the trees for the girl in question, who he had no doubt would assail him if she saw an opening. But nothing ever came, and Chrysaor's caution was unwarranted. After several minutes of meticulous searching throughout the woods at the foot of the mountain that had housed the decimated temple, Chrysaor spotted his goal at the edge of a small stream. The girl with the amethyst eyes was peering into the water intensely, her arms wrapped around tucked knees. It was kind of cute, even though she was probably dwelling on something particularly nasty.

Chrysaor was about to get the girl's attention, but before he could she began to speak. However, it was clear that she was not talking to the Sentinel or to anyone else at all.

"I don't know... this wasn't supposed to happen. Nightmare said that we weren't supposed to fight him, but we did... is he gonna be angry?"

While Chrysaor looked around for whoever the girl was addressing, she spoke again.

"You idiot, we just won't tell him! After we get back to Ostreihnsburg, we'll just leave out the part about the fighting! Sheesh, is that really so hard to figure out?"

Realizing that the girl was talking to herself, Chrysaor looked on with interest.

"How are we going to get Chrissy to take us back there? I don't think that's where he's going."

"I miss the days when I didn't have a hopelessly stupid other half."

"Hey! I'm pretty sure I'm the original, you're the fake!"

"We're the same person you dolt..."

Absolutely fascinated by this situation, Chrysaor was content to watch from the sidelines. This girl was literally talking to herself like there was another person. Hell, she was insulting herself. He had never seen anything like it.

Caw!

Chrysaor frowned, as he knew that there was no way that the scarlet harlequin hadn't heard her pet raven. And indeed, the girl turned to face the source of the noise as soon as she heard it, and her expression as she did so was quite strange. At first, she scowled at the figure of the man who had defeated her, but then she smiled as she saw the two most beloved things in her life: Drossel and Archimedes.

She whistled to her pet bird. "Archy! C'mere! Stay away from that horrible man!"

Taking her order to heart. Archimedes flew over to his master and came to rest in her hands, leaving Chrysaor to cock an eyebrow at the girl as she snuggled the creature.

"Horrible man? I saved you from a very prolonged and miserable death on a desolate mountaintop. That doesn't seem very horrible to me."

The girl turned her violet eyes towards the Sentinel and reciprocated his look of incredulity. "You almost broke my spine. Saving me from a situation you created isn't exactly praiseworthy."

Chrysaor shrugged. "To be fair, you did try to kill me."

"Semantics..."

Sighing in defeat, Chrysaor walked over to stand beside the girl. "Are you ready to go yet? We have to get going again soon."

The girl scowled at him for the umpteenth time that day. "Not again! It's sooooo boring!"

Ignoring her protests, Chrysaor picked the girl up and arranged her on his back once more, trying his hardest not to injure her despite her struggling. With any level of movement causing significant pain for her, the unwilling charge was unable to resist in any way. With a sigh of defeat, the girl eventually quieted, and allowed Chrysaor to carry her onwards into the forest, in hopes that they might stumble across civilization.

It took quite some time to find some manner of road in the forest; and even then, it was only an animal trail. However, Chrysaor was hoping that it may have been a trail frequented by hunters, and if that was the case, he may encounter someone who could point him to the nearest town. He briefly wondered what he would do if the person he hoped to encounter couldn't speak his language... but the Sentinel decided to discard those thoughts for the time being.

Instead he carried onwards, surrounded by the silence of the forest that was unbroken except for his heavy footfalls. Normally, a person would enjoy such serene quiet. But within minutes, the persisting silence was making Chrysaor's skin crawl. It reminded him too much of Valhalla, where noise was sucked into some magical vacuum and the otherworldly place was left with nothing but unnerving quiet. At this point he hated silence.

In an effort to break the tranquility of the forest, Chrysaor attempted to converse with his back-riding companion, who had been mostly silent for the last half-hour. She was probably contemplating her current chances of killing him. Due to her current physical state, said chances were abysmally low. Even with his neck exposed, she didn't even have the strength to strangle him. Besides, he probably could have broken her fingers if she tried. As much as she hated to admit it, the girl on Chrysaor's back was helpless and completely subject to whatever her rescuer/captor felt like doing, which in this case was asking her a stupid question.

"So... where are you from?"

"Don't talk to me."

Chrysaor frowned in dismay. He had been hoping to deal with the girl's happier side. "Are you bored?"

"Yes. Now shut up."

The Sentinel of Lightning briefly contemplated how to undermine the girl's wall of anti-social behavior, and after a few moments, an idea came to him. Hopefully he could appeal to her more childish alter ego. "Do you want to play a game?"

Chrysaor could almost feel his burden perk up as he uttered the word. "...what kind of game?"

"A guessing game."

The girl slumped back down on Chrysaor's shoulders. "That sounds way boring..."

Chrysaor rolled his sapphire eyes. "Oh come on, it's more fun than you think. I'll start by guessing where you're from. It's better than doing nothing, right?"

The raven haired girl sighed. "Fine..."

"Alright then... are you from Europe?"

Her reply was scathing. "No, I'm Chinese. Isn't it obvious? Could you at least ask half-intelligent questions?"

Despite her efforts to patronize him, Chrysaor continued unperturbed. "East or West?"

This question caused a moment of hesitation in the girl, thankfully not because she was coming up with a sassy remark. "Uh... it's kinda in the middle..."

"Okay then, North or South?"

"North."

Chrysaor nodded as he mentally pictured a map of the world. Of course, any idea he had of geography was ten years old, but he figured it would be alright to assume that everything was roughly the same. "I see... hmm... Germanic maybe?"

The girl immediately kicked him in the sides. "How did you get that so fast? You cheated, didn't you?!"

Chrysaor was glad that she lacked the strength to kick him very hard. "How could I possibly cheat when I'm merely guessing? Besides, I still have to guess what area of the region you're from."

"Grr... fine."

Chrysaor walked on, subconsciously following the animal trail, mentally focusing on the areas of Europe that were considered Germanic.

"East or West?"

"East."

Cycling through the regions he knew in that particular region, Chrysaor decided he would just start guessing, and that he might as well start with the place he was most familiar with.

"Saxony?"

The girl punched Chrysaor in the back of the head, although her lack of strength made it a futile attempt to hurt her carrier. "Shit, no way! Chrissy, you cheater! You totally cheated, getting it on the first guess like that!"

Chrysaor couldn't help but smile as he listened to her childish rant, temporarily forgetting that she had been hell-bent on killing him just the other day. "Well, I'm from Saxony myself, so I was just guessing the place I knew best. It was just a lucky coincidence."

The girl on his back growled in defeat. She had not originally been invested in this game of his, but she didn't like losing. Therefore, she needed to think of something else to trump him with. "Well... I bet you can't guess my name!"

"If that's a challenge, fine. How many letters?"

"Four."

Chrysaor furrowed his brow in thought. Having identified the girl's birthplace, he was already trying to think of Germanic names that short. Unfortunately there were few. "Only four? That's kind of unusual..."

The Saxon girl wrapped her arms around Chrysaor's exposed neck like she was about to choke him, not that she had the strength to do it. "What's wrong with only four?"

"Nothing. I didn't say it was wrong, just unusual. I'm sure it's a nice name."

The gauntlet-clad arms around the Sentinel's neck loosened. For a moment Chrysaor thought that he probably should have confiscated those dangerous things as well.

"W-well... you still haven't started guessing yet, and you'll never get it! Not in a hundred years!"

Chrysaor smirked. "Oh, we'll see about that. I think you're underestimating my guessing prowess."

"Perhaps: overestimating you wasn't very hard after all."

Chrysaor was unaware of how much distance he had covered so far, but for the moment, he really didn't care. This was the first time he had been subject to human companionship in over ten years. Despite the fact that half of the interaction was this girl berating or insulting him, Chrysaor found himself enjoying this. In the decade of Valhalla's solitude that he had been forced to endure, it was all Chrysaor had wanted. For now, it didn't matter who this girl was, or what her motives were; he was just glad to have someone.

"Well then I'd better impress you this time and set the record straight. Do we have an L?"

Nightmare eyed the strange being that bowed before him. It had fought its way through both Astaroth and Ostreihnsburg's malfested guards in order to reach the throne room, and although Nightmare had been expecting a fight, he had not received it. When he had asked for its name, it had simply told Nightmare that his name was Spawn, a 'gift' from Malebolgia. Nightmare did not know what type of entity Malebolgia was, but if one of his servants was powerful enough to defeat Astaroth and the castle guards with such ease, then Spawn was a boon he would gladly accept.

Spawn appeared to be a tall man of slim but muscular stature. He sported a black jumpsuit with white accents on his face, which was covered with a mask, from where menacing green eyes glowed with eerie intensity. The outfit was finished with red-colored gauntlets and boots with spikes protruding from them, as well as chains that were wrapped around parts of his body. His right boot was strangely enlarged, and he carried a lethal battle-axe as his weapon of choice.

Finally done judging this new arrival, Nightmare found him to be an acceptable servant. Nevertheless, he would watch this 'Spawn' warily; he had no doubt that either this creature or his master, Malebolgia, had ulterior motives concerning Soul Edge. After all, the only servant that had ever come to Nightmare willingly was Tira, and that deranged sow was a special case. Because of these concerns, Nightmare would be sure to dispose of Spawn as soon as his usefulness had ended... although that was nothing new among Soul Edge's tyrannical regime.

Rising from his throne, Nightmare pointed a monstrous finger at Spawn. "Very well, your master's tribute is acceptable. But fail me even once, and both you and your master shall be consumed."

Spawn said nothing in reply, and Nightmare continued. "Your first task shall be an easy one. Soul Edge has discerned that one of my servants has been... captured. You will go and retrieve her. I require her reports on an unknown enemy. I will not be blindsided by a potential threat because of a lack of knowledge on its abilities."

Spawn nodded, and without a word, disappeared into a dark hole that seemed very similar to Zasalamel's method of transportation. Having dealt with this new arrival, Nightmare returned to his throne, planning out how to deal with the treachery of this Malebolgia creature, which the Azure Knight knew was inevitable.

Chrysaor finally stepped out of the forest of strange Asian trees as he quested for the last letter of his companion's name. So far, he had a T, an I, and a R, but the last letter had been eluding him so far. Having spent the last half-hour deciphering the girl's name, Chrysaor was eager to figure it out. After all, there weren't too many letters that would fit on the end of Tir, but there were some people out there with crazy names, so there were still quite a few possibilities.

"OK, let's see... which letter haven't I used yet?"

The purple-eyed girl on his back, whose mood had improved significantly, listed off the letter he hadn't used yet. Chrysaor noted with satisfaction that her darker side had been silent for most of their game, so he must have been adequately entertaining her. "You still have A, E, K, M, P, Q, S, U, X, and Z. Seriously, if you get this wrong you're just an idiot."

Although Chrysaor was pretty sure he knew what the last letter was, he thought he would make a little jest instead. She seemed to be in a good enough mood to receive it, after all. "Oh, hmm... how about E?"

The raven-haired girl bopped Chrysaor on the back of the head. "Seriously? You really are an idiot Chrissy. Tire? Really? You might as well have said Z!"

Chrysaor grimaced as he felt slight discomfort forming on the back of his skull. Throughout the past two days, this girl had recovered a lot of her strength, thought not nearly enough to really threaten him.

"Could you refrain from punching me? It was a joke. It's an A, right?"

"Finally, you dumbass. I can't believe that took you so long."

Sighing at the reappearance of her more crude half, Chrysaor shook his head. "Tira, huh? As unusual as I had expected, but... it's a pretty name. I like it."

The girl fell silent on his back, and Chrysaor wondered if he had said something wrong. After a few moments of silence, he turned his head to try and look at his back-riding acquaintance. "Tira?"

The harlequin girl pushed Chrysaor's face forward, to keep him from looking at her. "Geez Chrissy, don't you know anything? What an idiot..."

Chrysaor smiled, finding Tira to be quite cute when she was flustered. "Well, my apologies. Now that I've got your name, can you please stop calling me Chrissy? In case you haven't noticed, I'm not a woman."

Leaning forward so the Sentinel could see her face, Tira stuck her tongue out at him. "No way, your name is sooooo boring! Chrissy sounds way better!"

The Sentinel of Lightning frowned at her, regretting giving his own name in introduction after leaving the temple. Tira had immediately given him that insufferable nickname. "Would you drop it if I told you my actual name?"

Tira grinned happily. "Oh, that's like a big secret for you for something, right? I loooove~ secrets! OK, tell me!"

"Atkins."

Tira cast an irritable gaze at her carrier. "Oh, come on, that can't be your real name!"

"It's my last name."

The girl responded with, "But I don't want your last name! Tell me your first name or I'll just keep calling you Chrissy!"

Chrysaor sighed. "...fine, but I don't share this with many people, so I'm trusting you to keep a secret, OK?"

Tira nodded enthusiastically, but Chrysaor knew that if he couldn't even trust her with his life, he certainly couldn't for something so trivial. "My name is Cyril, alright? Will you stop calling me Chrissy now?"

A moment of silence was a precursor to Tira's response. "Hmm... Cyril huh? That's not a Germanic name!"

"Last time I checked, neither is Tira."

Unable to refute that, Tira simply grumbled. "Fine, fine... but Cyril is so hard to make a good nickname out of! Can I just keep calling you Chrissy instead?"

"Absolutely not."

As Tira resorted to childish pouting, the two travelers drifted into silence. Now that he was not enraptured in conversation, Cyril finally took notice of his surroundings. All around him were grassy hills and a few sparse sections of trees. Unfortunately, there was not a village anywhere in sight. He looked up at the sky, ignoring the strangely quiet raven perched on Tira's beloved weapon. The sun was setting rapidly, and the sky was already growing dark.

Resigning himself to a night in the wilderness, Cyril made his a way to the nearest copse of trees and gently set his human burden down against one of the gangly trees.

"Hey, why are we stopping, Chris-"

Cyril shot the girl a look of annoyance. "Er, Cyril? Why are we stopping? It's still so early!"

Cyril plopped down beside Tira, careful to lay Drossel out of her reach. "Early? It's nearly evening already. Who knows where the nearest settlement is? We might as well just stay here for the night."

A chilly breeze blew through the area as Cyril finished, causing his unwilling female companion to shiver.

"But it's gonna be so cold! Can't you find somewhere warmer than this?"

Cyril eyed the scantily-clad teenager with cocked eyebrow. "Well, if you didn't dress like-"

"If you call me a tramp, I swear I'll strangle you with your spine."

Cyril almost physically recoiled from the malevolence that briefly emanated from the girl. She had been in a pretty good mood for awhile now, so this burst of anger was unexpected.

Tira's anger was washed away though when another breeze of cold air rolled over the hills. She shivered again and let out a little whimper. "I hate the cold..."

Cyril weighed the danger of what he was about to propose. Under normal circumstances, it would be a dangerous move, but since he didn't actually require sleep...

"Come over here."

The violet-eyed, bird-obsessed girl looked at Cyril with confusion. "Huh?"

"You said you were cold, so come over here."

A befuddled expression still plastered onto her face, Tira scooted closer to the Sentinel. "How is this going to keep me warm?"

Her question was answered when Cyril wrapped his arms around the ex-assassin and pulled her closer to him. The only response she could manage to stutter through her surprise was,

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, what the fuck are you doing?!"

Tira tried to push herself away from the man, but he held her tightly as he answered. "Body warmth is more easily transferable between two people if they are closer to each other. This is about as close as we can get, and since we have no blankets, this will have to do."

Realizing her struggle was in vain, Tira ceased her futile attempt to escape from Cyril's grasp. As she reluctantly relaxed into the embrace, it actually called back some fond memories.

There was once another person who used to hold Tira this way. Many, many years ago, there was another person who cradled her like this. That person was the closest thing Tira ever had to a mother, and although the malfested servant had believed she had buried those memories long ago, now they welled up inside of her.

At first, the thought of anyone else holding her like this besides her Mother Bird made Tira angry. But after a few moments, the simple sensation of being cradled in such a way actually calmed her. She couldn't really explain why. Perhaps it was just a brief moment of sincere appreciation for something she hadn't experienced in years. She wasn't completely incapable of enjoying things outside of murder.

"I can stop, if this is making you uncomfortable."

Briefly panicking at the thought of losing what she was associating with one of her very, very few happy memories, Tira responded without really thinking. "No! Don't do that!"

Cyril looked down at Tira questioningly, and the girl both scowled and blushed as she realized how eager she had sounded. "I-I mean... I hate being cold, and since this whole damn situation is your fault, you have an obligation to keep me warm!"

Cyril smiled. "Oh, is that the reason? Or maybe..."

"Don't get any funny ideas. I could just as easily use your corpse for a blanket."

Cyril was well aware of that rather disturbing fact. Fortunately, as a Sentinel, Cyril did not actually have to sleep, so he could keep an eye on Tira throughout the whole night. Of course, the fact that he'd have the girl in his arms meant he could crush her with his immense strength if she tried anything... but he was really hoping that would not be necessary.

Looking down at the girl in his arms again, Cyril noticed that she was already dozing off. "Seems you were more tired than you let on."

"Shut up... no one asked you. As soon as I wake up I'm gonna strangle you..."

Those were the last words he got out of Tira before she drifted off into sleep. Ignoring her threats, Cyril prepared himself for the several hours of nighttime he would spend doing pretty much nothing, and noted with disdain that he had totally forgotten to actually investigate that temple.

Glad I repaired that cringe worthy dialogue. Damn.