I've done a great misdeed by updating CoF before BC, which is half the reason this update was a little slow in coming. The other reason is because I wrote a way long chapter for Manifest Destiny.

But I'm back, returning to you guys, which at this point are one of two things. One, you're all like a bunch of faithful puppies just glad to see that I came back, or two, you're all a bunch of evil cats who are plotting my death because I took too long to feed you again. Or maybe some of you are feeling like goldfish? If that is you, please tell me how that feels, because I have no earthly idea.

Hilde had never been very fond of anything that included metal bars and dank, damp walls. Dungeons, jails, and prisons always made her think of insanity; they were places to confine those that everyone else deemed unsuitable for society. Of course, perhaps the reasons the Wolfkrone princess felt that way as she descended into her castle's dungeons was really because of the eerie tune being whistled note by note from below. Maybe it wasn't even supposed to sound eerie, but the fact that it was echoing off of all of the narrow stone passages, and more so the fact that it was being whistled by the lips of the girl imprisoned here, made it seem as though it were.

Gerhilde cocked an eyebrow as she listened to the melody, which was actually done quite well. "She's in an awfully good mood to have had her innards stabbed, wouldn't you say?"

Hilde glanced over at the green-haired lieutenant beside her, who had come along into the dungeon with the princess to both aid in interrogation and to protect the wounded leader, just in case that monstrous bird girl had some nasty tricks she had yet to reveal.

"Yes, unfortunately she does seem to be in a fine mood. We'll have to remedy that immediately."

The two women decided to make the rest of their short trip in silence, doing their best to ignore the whimsical sounds emanating from the cell ahead. As they approached it, they saw the two guards at the door looking very uncomfortable. In the few hours they had been guarding this girl, they had been firsthand witnesses to her madness, being present for the girl's rapid shifts in personality. Just a few minutes ago she had been deathly silent, doing little else than glaring at them. Now she was whistling a rather happy tune. Needless to say, the bars between them and the prisoner did little to make them feel safe.

Coming to a stop in front of the cell, Hilde and her current second-in-command were met with the sight of the raven-haired girl doing a handstand, her back towards them as she continued her whistling. Her pigtails were literally brushing the floor.

Hilde was the first one to declare her presence, although not with a proclamation of her arrival. "What are you... doing?"

Not alarmed in the least -in fact she had probably already known they were there- the clownish girl plopped down onto her butt and placed her chin in one of her bare hands, her dangerous gauntlets having been confiscated. Strangely, she didn't look the least bit frustrated with how things had turned out. She even seemed a little amused. "Hey Red! You look awful. Anyway, you see, the other me said I couldn't do a handstand for as long as it took me to whistle Rendalf the Rogue, which is this really funny ballad about-"

Hilde cut her off, amazed that the clearly 'unique' girl could try and start such a lighthearted conversation under the circumstances. "Please just forget I asked..."

"Geez, that's just cruel, Red. Putting me down right after I got all excited about something! I mean, you asked, didn't you?"

Gerhilde stepped in, irritable and angry. "Show the proper deference when you speak to the princess you miserable wretch! We aren't here to make small talk!"

The accosted teenager rolled her violet eyes, obviously not feeling any more respectful than she had been before that outburst. "Okay then princess; what did you guys do with my weapon? I hope you didn't scratch it or anything."

Gerhilde took none too kindly to the sarcastic edge thrown into Hilde's title. "You'll be lucky if we don't melt it down for a wagon spoke!"

Tira's light smirk took on a darker edge. She was still amused by the brash words of her captors, but now she was likely thinking of how many ways she could kill them within the next hour as well. "Careful now, words like that will get you killed very quickly."

"Are you threatening me?!"

Hilde pushed the Lieutenant away from the bars, the woman having leaned towards the girl in her anger. Hilde wasn't taking any chances with this... 'person'. She had no doubt that she could kill any of them if they were foolish enough to come within her grasp. "Calm down, Gerhilde. She can't do anything so long as she is behind those bars."

"You just go right on believing that Red. It'll help you sleep better."

Hilde ignored the comment and glared down contemptuously at the girl, who was still sitting rather comfortably on the floor. "So? Why did you and your allies come here? What did you hope to accomplish?"

"Oh, you know, we had just come for tea and cookies and stuff, with a delightful side of soul-reaping and assassination. The usual."

Hilde took note of the shifting lilt in the malfested's voice. It had gone from light and cheerful to dark and sultry and now it was reverting back again. Just what was wrong with this person? "Assassination? Of my father?"

"Congratulations Red, you win a prize! But since I don't have anything to give you, you'll have to accept the consolation prize of me deciding to not kill your daddy."

"Oh, so in your graciousness you opted for just chopping off his hand right? You honestly expect me to believe that you willingly spared the person you were sent here to kill?"

An incredulous look of disbelief was the only thing the scarlet-clad girl could offer in reply beyond her words. "C'mon Red, do you really think that with how easily I beat you and your bimbo sidekick that I would seriously miss a defenseless old man huddled on the ground? If I had wanted him dead, he would be. If anything, you should be grateful that I made a bloody stump out of his hand and not his neck."

Of course that wasn't really the truth. Tira herself had no idea why she had pulled away from the fatal blow at the last second. Neither side of her personality was sure what the deal had been, only that for some reason they had screwed up. Nightmare had not cared how things went so long as King Krone had been killed, but Tira had blown it big time, and she wasn't even sure why.

Hilde couldn't see all of this confusion going on behind her prisoner's amethyst eyes, so she was actually somewhat inclined to believe that her father had indeed been willingly spared. "Why then? What could you possibly gain from sparing his life when it was your mission to do eliminate him? It certainly wasn't out of compassion."

The girl in question wagged her finger at the princess. "Sorry Red, but only I need to know that. I'll leave it up to your imagination."

The Wolfkrone princess was about to protest, but one of the maids from the castle upstairs had just shown up at the foot of the dungeon staircase and was jogging towards Hilde with an obvious shortness of breath. "Princess! T-terrible news! His Majesty is... his condition has..."

Hilde was far too concerned about the woman's tone to wait for her to stutter out a sentence. "Spit it out, what's the problem?! What has happened to my father?!"

"His Majesty, h-his... I'm sorry, Princess, but his...his madness has seemingly returned..."

Without another word, Hilde bolted for the stairs to go an confirm the dreadful truth for herself, followed closely by Gerhilde. Watching them leave with utmost satisfaction, Tira leaned back against the cold stone floor and began to whistle another tune, even more cheerful than the last. Perhaps things hadn't turned out quite as bad as she thought they had.

"So... are you absolutely sure you won't-?"

"Yes. I am quite sure that I will not allow you to do it."

"Damn."

Finished deflecting Amy's request for the umpteenth time, Cyril continued to scan the horizon ahead of him with his sapphire blue eyes. The two companions had made quite a bit of headway since they had resumed traveling after waking up (In Amy's case that is) this morning. The beaten dirt path they traveled was surrounded by open fields of grass, with a few patches of lively trees to change up the scenery. Unfortunately, there had been no sign of another village anywhere nearby, although this road had to lead somewhere.

Cyril had already wrapped his damaged arm in some bandages Amy had miraculously provided from her incredible travel bag of magic wonders. Amy had apparently packed a lot more than just sweets in preparation for this journey, and Cyril now appreciated her foresight. What other wonders did she have packed away into that backpack of hers? Hopefully not tweezers.

"Why are you so insistent on picking at my wound anyway? You're far too faint of heart to be doing something like that."

Amy folded her arms and shot Cyril a look of indignation. "I am nothing of the sort. I am more than capable of dealing with something so mundane! I just don't see why we have to wait until another village or town to at least clean your wound!"

Cyril wondered if that meant Amy was just impulsive or actually concerned about his health. Like he had told her before, there wasn't really a need to worry herself over him, being semi-immortal and all, but her worry was somewhat endearing. "I promise that I'll be fine regardless of how soon we get this injury checked out, Amy."

"That sounds like exactly the kind of thing you would say regardless of your real condition."

Cyril was only too happy to agree with that assessment. "Yes, I'm sure it does. It must irk you to no end."

"Which is why you do it, right?"

"Precisely."

Amy placed her hands on her narrow hips as she glared at the Sentinel accusingly. "You know, for someone who is supposed to save the world, you are a huge ass! Don't you know how to treat a lady?"

Cyril made a spectacle of glancing around him in all directions. "A lady? Where?"

"Shut up you insufferable simpleton. This is why you'd die alone if you were human..."

"Oh, but I'd have you, wouldn't I?"

Amy was taken over by an incredible blush that she was unable to suppress. "W-w-what?! Of course not! Of course you wouldn't have me, who would ever want to get stuck with you?!"

"I imagine you would."

"Absolutely not! Y-you're completely delusional! See, that wound really must be getting to you!"

Cyril chuckled as he belittled the young girl he was glad to have beside him. Strangely enough, he was reminded of Tira, whom he had forgotten somewhat in all of the chaos of the past few weeks. He did not remember girls being so enjoyable to spend time around when he was last mortal...

As the warm light of the sun finally graced the woodlands of the west, Link and Xandra ended their homage to Mother Nature. They had spent the entire night mourning the loss from the mysterious fire earlier, and although hardly a word was said, Link felt as though there was now some sort of bond between himself and this strange woman, even if it was only over their respect for nature.

Navi had miraculously managed to stay quiet for the duration of the night, although she had flown off occasionally to go ramble by her lonesome, since all the quiet surrounding Link and Xandra had apparently been too much to bear for the little fairy. Either way, she had been quiet when she had been nearby, and that was enough.

As the two mourners finally finished paying their respects and began to rise and stretch their legs, Xandra spoke the first words between them in many hours. "I would thank you for paying your respects to the Mother, Hylian. There are few who would take the time to do so."

Link nodded, more than a little tired yet as polite as ever. "There is no need to thank me for doing what should have been done. Still, I hope this clears up some of your suspicion of me..."

Xandra shook her helmeted head, and Link couldn't help but wonder what she looked like under it. "I'm afraid not. I still do not trust you. However, I will admit that my respect for you has been slightly raised."

"Only slightly?" Link said jokingly.

"Don't push it, Hylian."

Link didn't say anything else, noting with satisfaction that there wasn't anywhere near as much disdain in the woman's voice as there had been when they had first spoken. There hadn't been any cruel words either, so either she was still in a dour mood or she actually accepted Link's actions a bit more than she let on.

"So, do you have any idea what may have started such an inferno so suddenly? I find it hard to believe a small fire could have grown to such a size without notice."

Xandra glanced around at the ashes and cinders that was the only remnant of this section of the forest. "It was likely just one of the many disasters that herald The End. How it may have started I do not know, but as the Final Consummation nears, such tragedies become very common."

Link frowned, words like 'End' and 'Final Consummation' had quite the worrying ring to them. "I'm afraid I do not know what you're talking about. The end of what?"

Xandra turned to look at Link as if he were either insane or severely misinformed. "The end of the world, of course. What else would it be?"

Ezio Auditore stepped off of the ship that had carried him into Athens with inner joy. Finally, something besides water, seagulls, and sweaty male sailors. And although he was eager to eye some of the ladies around here, he was still a well-trained assassin, and the first thing he observed was his immediate surroundings, looking for anything that might be useful in his search for the mysterious 'Spirit Swords' he had come here to find. He was on a mission, and if there was an opportunity to make some lady-friends along the way, he most certainly would, be he would not be distracted when he had something of importance to do. The Templars certainly did not need anymore legendary weapons to fight the Assassins with.

Ezio found nothing of note at the Athenian docks, although the white marble of the buildings was a wondrous sight to behold in its own right. Either way, the architecture did not help him, so the Italian master assassin decided to delve further into the city in hopes of finding some useful information. As he smoothly slid in-between the pedestrians and crowds that clogged the pale stone streets, Ezio tried to locate a weapons dealer or blacksmith of some sort, in hopes that they would know more about mystical weaponry.

After a good thirty minutes of searching, he did indeed locate a man with the profession he sought. A fair-skinned, blond-haired blacksmith was hammering away at a piece of metal within his forge. Hopefully he would at least know rumors about the weapons Ezio was curious about. The master assassin made his way towards the man and patiently waited until he was noticed, while silently hoping this blacksmith spoke something other than Greek.

The laboring man eventually finished his work and laid the roughly blade shaped piece of metal to the side as he wiped his hands with a rag and looked up to the stranger before him. He threw on an amiable smile, because he was a nice guy of course, but also because potential customers were likely to spend more money on seemingly nice people.

Seeing that the stranger in front of him was certainly not Greek, the blacksmith decided to simply speak in English. It was the most common of Euopean languages. "Hello sir; what can I do for you today?"

Ezio was pleased to know that he would be able to communicate with this man, since he didn't know an ounce of Greek himself. "I am looking for information regarding certain weapons, signore. As a blacksmith, I was wondering if you'd ever heard of them?"

The laborer shrugged. "Only one way to find out. What are they?"

"They are referred to as the 'Spirit Swords'. They're supposed to be legendary. What do you know of them?"

The man's face clouded with bitterness as he heard the question. Rothion had long blamed Soul Edge for many of the misfortunes that had befallen his family. "I know that you should stay away from them. Those swords are legendary only for the trouble they bring to everyone. I have never once heard a story about someone wielding either Spirit Sword without some sort of tragedy befalling them. They're a curse upon humanity..."

Ezio was pleasantly surprised to find that these swords were actually real. He had been on his fair share of wild goose chases in the past couple of years, and he wasn't eager to partake in another one. "Do you know where I can find them, signore? I must locate these swords."

Rothion looked at this stranger like he was crazy, asking where he could find the swords after literally just being advised against it. Still, it wasn't really any business of his. "I'm afraid you'd be better off asking my wife; she's knows a lot more about this than I do. However, I don't know where she is at the moment..."

Ezio hid his dismay behind another friendly smile. How could the blacksmith's wife know more about mythical swords than the blacksmith himself? And more importantly, the Italian womanizer wasn't really looking forward to meeting whatever kind of woman would marry a blacksmith...

"Rothion, darling, I lost that knapsack again... have you seen it?"

Ezio turned to look at the feminine figure that was approaching the smithy from the street. If this buxom blonde beauty was this man's wife, his day was about to get many times better. Oh, and the other blonde next to her with the far less revealing clothing was pretty nice too.

The second time Hilde came down to the dungeon that day, she was met with humming of an even more cheerful nature than she had been subjected to earlier. But this time she was in no mood to hear it. As the princess and her personal guard returned to the front of their prisoner's cell, Hilde cut into the chipper tune of the seated raven enthusiast with a roar.

"What did you do?!"

The accosted malfested girl made a show of cleaning out her ears after the verbal assault before answering. "Geez Red, that's no way to say hello..."

Hilde gripped the bars of the cell hard enough to turn her knuckles a pale, ghostly white. "Don't mess with me right now you little bastard! Tell me what you did to my father!"

A roll of violet eyes did nothing to soothe Hilde's anger. "I chopped off his hand, Red. Duh, I thought that was obvious..."

Hilde contemplated executing the infuriating bitch at that exact moment, but she needed to stay alive long enough to have some answers drawn out of her. "Don't get smart with me! You know what I'm talking about! He was alright! He was back to normal until you showed up! What did you do to him?"

Tira rolled the question around in her mind, wondering if she could have possibly been responsible for King Krone's resurgent madness, not that she would have felt guilty either way. "You aren't going to believe me of course, but I didn't have anything to do with that. I was just here to kill the guy, making him lose his mind wasn't part of the plan. Nearly as good though..."

Hilde glared balefully down at the girl who was still relaxing on the floor as if they were talking about what to eat for lunch. Her nonchalance infuriated her to no end.

"You're lying. You had something to do with this! He was completely sane until you attacked him!"

Tira's cheery side mentally retreated, growing bored with this whole conversation already. Why not allow her dark side to take the boring stuff for her? "I told you what you wanted to hear. I knew you would reject it, but still... if it makes you feel any better Red, it's probably my fault either way. Must've sent the poor bastard into shock or something."

Hilde looked about ready to tear the cell door off it's hinges and strangle the girl. "I should kill you right now!"

"Feel free to try, Red. I've been looking for a prison bitch, but I'm the only one you've got locked up down here..."

Gerhilde took it upon herself to give the girl a murderous glare this time, but it hardly affected Tira in any way beyond amusing her. Hilde really did think about grabbing the cell guard's spear and impaling the girl through the bars right that second, but she knew that she needed her prisoner alive for just a bit longer. So without another word the Wolfkrone princess swung on her heel and left for the upper levels of the castle, hoping that her physicians may have discovered a way to cure her father's renewed madness.

Gerhilde followed behind her, but was unable to see the tears that slowly streaked down her princess' face. She had been so close to having a father again...

Tira waited until the two women were gone and made sure that her guard wasn't watching her directly before pulling her outfit to the side a bit and revealing the wound Hilde had given her less than twenty-four hours ago. She had removed the bandages already because they weren't needed; what had been a grisly open wound had already closed up quite nicely, although her innards in that area were still suffering. And there wouldn't even be a scar on her beautiful skin when it was over! Sometimes being a malfested really had its perks.

Amy had spent the better part of her day pestering Cyril about his arm, but her efforts had been completely in vain. Every reason or excuse she threw the Sentinel's way was deflected with something far more logical, although Amy hated admitting to being bested in that area. She was truly concerned that Cyril would continue to brush her off even if they didn't chance upon a village in the next week, and that was troublesome. Cyril was many notches above any man Amy had ever met (with the exception of her father), but she could see that he was just as stubborn as any man.

"Cyril, please? I know you're going to ignore it even if we come across another settlement."

"There is absolutely no way I'm letting you near me with any object sharper than your own fingernails."

Amy glanced around at the scenery, although it was really just more trees and grass. Everything looked so similar to what it had been earlier that she could barely tell that she and Cyril had advanced at all. "I carry my rapier on me all the time, and you never had a problem carrying me on your back; n-not that I care of course..."

Cyril glanced over the diminutive French girl with amusement. "Allow me to rephrase my statement then. There is absolutely no way I'm going to let you near me with a pointy object that you deliberately plan to use on me, even if it is supposed to be beneficial. I'm afraid you'll run me through on accident, or I'll say something that embarrasses you and you'll prick me out of spite."

Amy crossed her arms with a huff. "As if you could ever get that kind of reaction out of me."

Silence ensued for about a minute as Cyril contemplated the best way to prove her wrong. He briefly thought of directly asking her about her underwear, but that would have been just a bit scandalous for someone nearly seven years older than a fourteen year old girl to ask said person. Although what he was going to say was still pretty questionable...

"I was just thinking Amy, that you have incredibly lovely thighs. I would know, considering that I had my hands on them for hours not that long ago."

As expected, Amy's face turned nearly as red as her hair in mere moments. "W-w-w-hat the hell are you saying, you pervert?! Don't you have the common sense to not say something like that to a woman!?"

Cyril glanced around as if looking for something.

"I swear, if you say 'what woman' I will strangle you and just doom the whole world right here and now!"

Cyril got a good laugh out of that. "Are you even tall enough to reach my throat?"

"Either way, I'm tall enough to hit you where it really hurts!"

"Even that is debatable, shortie..."

Cyril could almost see the flames igniting behind Amy's petite form. With the puffed up indignant cheeks and glare to go with it, somehow she managed to look adorable as compared to threatening. "Why are you being such an ass? What did I do besides try to establish myself as a respectable person in a respectable societal position?!"

Cyril sighed and in a manner that probably irked Amy to no small extent, ruffled the top of her hair with his good arm. "Respectable societal position? You're way too young to fall into such a boring rut. You need to enjoy your life, not waste it acting like some high-class lady, especially when you're barely into your teens. You're still a kid, you should enjoy yourself like one. Forget all this societal position garbage."

Amy looked more displeased about his little speech than Cyril thought she would be, but couldn't notice anything beyond a roll of the eyes and some sort of mumble about not being a kid. Cyril was about to question her reaction when the young girl turned the topic to the journey currently being undertaken. "Do you have any earthly idea where we're going or are you just flying blind right now? Again?"

"That would be the latter, short stuff. All I know is that we're heading roughly Northeast."

Amy glared at her older companion for a number of reasons, but none of them seemed to register in the mythical man's mind as he continued to walk at the same pace he always did when he took Amy's humanity into account, although that was still too fast for the girl's liking. Amy just sighed to herself as she questioned why she had even gotten involved with such a troublesome person. With a bit of self-loathing, she realized it had been because he was handsome and said nice things. Maybe she was more of a naive child than she cared to admit.

"The end of the world? Truly?"

Link was trying to keep a bit of skepticism out of his voice as he asked Xandra to clarify her previous statement, although he didn't know how well of a job he was doing.

"Quite so, Hylian. It happens every so often, so it is not as though it came unexpectedly, but nevertheless-"

"It happens often?!"

Link couldn't see the woman's eyes, but he was pretty sure she shot a glare his way. "Don't interrupt me, you imbecile! You are not so far into my good graces to avoid a concussion should you anger me. Now, as I was saying, this has happened many times before. The universe... recycles itself, if you will. Some cosmic force somewhere decides to reset things every once in awhile. Every living thing in this world, and as far as we know other worlds, dies and is reborn again. You wouldn't believe how many times humanity has been forced to redo the Stone Age."

Link was trying to wrap his head around some all-powerful cosmic entity that just felt like playing around with the universe every once in awhile. "So... does this recycling of life... occur everywhere? Or is it only in this realm?"

Xandra chuckled, although it was more of a condescending piteous noise than anything else. "Oh Hylian, there is no such thing as realms. There is simply existence. Your home exists somewhere in this universe, it is not separate. This universe has many rules and regulations far beyond the scope of man, but many of the things we attribute to it are nonexistent. Time, for example."

Link was getting lost in all of this theorizing and abstract thinking. "Time does not exist? But that cannot be possible. I have traveled through time before. Therefore it must exist."

Xandra shook her head. "The concept of time was created by humanity to measure things on their own world. Time here is measured by the rising of the sun and moon, but out in the cosmos, that is simply a facet of the universal machine. Do the sun and moon here determine the time on some distant world elsewhere? If that were so then Earth would be the center of the universe, and I can tell you that that is most certainly untrue."

"But... but what about life and death? Anything living has a time-frame to live. There must be some universal measurement!"

"Also untrue. There is no set limit to any living existence. There is, in fact, no such thing as even alive and dead. There is simply existence. Lived. Lives. Will live. Died. Dies. Will die. There is only existence; the question is less of time and more of what stage of it you are existing in."

Link tried to understand what Xandra meant by all of these things, but he just couldn't. The concept of timeless existence was beyond him. "I do not understand."

"Few mortal creatures do. Those of us from Valhalla and beyond have had far more time to meditate on these things. We can see the universe from a different perspective."

Something suddenly struck Link's thoughts, something that blew his mind even more than what had just been discussed. "Wait a minute... but... if the universe is everything, and it gets recycled over and over indefinitely... then how do you know of it? Would not you, your comrades, and this Valhalla place also be recycled as well?"

Xandra fell silent for many moments as she contemplated this revelation. Then she burst out into pure, genuine laughter. "That is a very good question, Hylian! I have never thought of this... how does Valhalla survive the Cycle every time it occurs? Is it not part of the universe? That seems impossible, but... well, I must say you have stumped me with something I could never understand! Excellent observation."

Link's mind was reeling with too many complicated things to appreciate the compliments, and he just decided to return to something simple. "I-is there a way to stop it? If there is no such thing as time, that means there is no preset time limit for this cycle to repeat itself right? Can you simply end its existence? If... that makes any sense..."

Xandra nodded calmly. "Think of it as a switch Hylian. It can be turned off, if only you know how to do it. Which of course, I do; generally speaking."

"Generally speaking?"

"There is a certain target to eliminate that will end the Cycle. That seems rather simple, almost too simple to put an end to something so catastrophic and universal, but supposedly that is all I or my Sentinel comrades must do. However, we have no way of knowing what this object is. It could be anything, even a person. We must find our own means to discover its identity."

Link was really taking a mental beating today. "Is... is it even guaranteed that this object is in this world? Could it not be in another? What then?"

"That would be most unfortunate as there is no way four Sentinels could ever scour the entire universe for something that could simply be a shiny rock floating through the vastness of space. Fortunately, the Catalyst, as we call it, gives off an energy signature of its own; one that is easy to see in the large, but difficult to pinpoint. The Four know the Catalyst is on Earth, but that is the extent of their information on it. The rest is up to me and my comrades... although I am sure it will fall mostly to me."

"How much time do we have to find it?"

Link could envision the cocked eyebrow that came along with Xandra's sarcastic tone of voice. "Did we not just discuss the nonexistence of time? There is no set amount of 'time,' only something that must be done before something else occurs. And besides, 'we?'"

The young Hylian warrior figured that she would ask that. "I have come here to prevent the destruction of my world, presumably from this recycling process you speak of. Therefore our goals are the same, and I for one do not see why we should neglect the aid of each other. Is that not wise?"

"You will slow me down."

"With Navi included you could have two extra sets of eyes besides your own. The time you save in searching would make up for the time you'd lose in travel."

Xandra sighed with some sort of resignation that sounded strangely pleased. "Again with the time... I hate to admit that your aid would actually be of some worth, but I am no liar. However, if you accompany me, you must keep that infuriating fairy in check. I am not above squishing her."

"I think your powers of intimidation will be more than enough to keep Navi quieter than usual."

Xandra began to walk towards her next undisclosed location, trusting her new companion to either follow or retrieve his fairy partner and then do so. "I do not know if I should appreciate that as a complement or be angry. I will determine that later."

"One more question."

"Yes?"

"What if the Catalyst is buried underground? Farther than anyone has ever gone?"

"...that would be very troublesome, to say the least. It would take a lot of effort for you to dig all that way with a shovel."

Talim walked briskly throughout the Korean port town Hwang had decided to dock at for the past week, hoping against hope that she would spot the inexplicably red-haired Yun-Seoung among the crowd. The young wind priestess knew it was a pointless search, as Yun was likely trekking across Europe at that very moment in an effort to reach Soul Edge, but Talim held onto the faint hope that he had been beaten by some warrior stronger than he and been forced to return home. She felt bad for wishing such a thing on the man, but anything would be better than him running off to fight Nightmare alone.

Deciding that her search was fruitless, Talim stopped near the harbor itself and rested on a crate that could have contained anything. The Filipino priestess had been busy ever since she had arrived here with Hwang and Seoung-Mina. For some reason, the number of sick people had rapidly escalated lately, and she had been bouncing all over the place in an effort to heal the less fortunate souls among the town.

She wondered if this sudden epidemic was one of those catastrophes the Sentinel had mentioned back on the ship when they had first encountered him. If that were so, then Talim was forced to accept that he had not yet found whatever he was looking for that would supposedly save the world. How much time did they all have left before the world just collapsed in a wave of death and destruction?

Talim was startled out of her grim thoughts as the fearful cries of the people about the docks registered in her head. She cast her gaze around and scrutinized the people, who were all pointing out to sea with terror in their eyes. Many of them were already running further inland. Talim had a slight idea what may have been causing this sudden scare, but prayed that she was mistaken as she looked out to sea as well. There on the horizon was a wall of water rushing in towards the coast, and although it looked insignificant and small from this distance, anything visible from this distance must have been massive.

Without wasting even a moment to soak in the reality of the impending catastrophe, Talim bolted up and ran into town, hoping to find her friends before they were all washed away by the cosmic will of the Cycle.

OK, so I'm mostly gonna just talk about this chapter itself here, because there are a few things I'd like to mention just because I can.

1~Before any of you run off to Google it, Rendalf the Rogue is unfortunately not a real ballad.

2~All mind-bending theories about the nonexistence of time is credited to Bioshock Infinite.

3~I think the more I write this, the better I get at portraying Tira's unique quirks. What do you think? She seems to get more and more entertaining the further we go.

And on a final note, don't forget about that poll of future projects if you haven't voted already, and be aware that I did start a Naruto fic called Manifest Destiny if you are a fan of that series.

With respect and insatiable curiosity for those of you feeling like goldfish, I'm out.