Short chapter. Even shorter scene for the Trials. But I have given you guys something to ponder for a while. It'll be interesting to see the reactions. :) Give a huge thank you to Nanari. She really helped me with this.

After a funeral, a three week long nasty cold, and an outrageous work Christmas party last weekend, I am finally back on my feet. Things are slowing down at the office as well.

Well, I'm done talking about me. Let's get on with the story, shall we?

His body seized up with ferocious spasms as soon as the toe of his boot touched the granule ground. His fingers reflexively let go of the orange lance and the weapon evaporated with snapping sparks. A brilliant explosion of flashing static shock erupted from the white sand and laced dangerously along the ground. Leaping back automatically, a small scream escaped Hitomi's parted lips and blended with the screeches of the equally horrified crowd. She backed away further, the vox racing through her body with her rapid heartbeats. Letting go of her weapon, the iridescent trident shimmered out of sight. Dryden's entire body twitched violently; his face lifting to the clear sky as his fingers curled themselves into tight fists by his side. Twists of rippled lightning wiggled over his body like small white-hot snakes. His teeth clamped together, his brown eyes wide with static shock. Though it must have been only several seconds, it felt like hours to her.

Just as the frozen panic had finally begun to ebb away from her encumbered sense of awareness, the trap fizzled out with a cracking pop and a breath of silence followed. He stood still for a long, low exhale and then his legs crumbled in a grotesquely corpse-like fashion. He crashed wholeheartedly to the ground on his side with a horribly solid thud.

With a wild cry and an unexpected rush of tears, Hitomi raced to his still form. Falling to her knees beside him, she could practically taste the burning heat of his skin. With his back facing her, her trembling, uncertain fingers hovered tentatively over his smoldering body. She put a hesitant hand on his shivering shoulder and was painfully snapped with static. She felt the energy course through her hand and wash into her sparking armor. The charge on her right shoulder crackled.

"Dryden? Dryden! Can you hear me?" She called out, pulling gently on his arm to help him face her. He was panting heavily as he settled slowly with his back on the sand. His long curls were a tangled mass of brown fuzz all around his head. His lips curled through his equally frizzed short beard into a sore grimace as his teeth began to reflexively chatter.

Glancing at her with half-closed brown eyes behind his crooked spectacles, he let out a sharp cough followed by a simple "Yo, how's it going?"

Her mouth opened with the rush of incredulity. "How's it going? How's it going? Why did you do that? You knew my trap was there! You knew it the entire time, didn't you? How could you- why did you- I don't understand! You knew it was there!"

A flicker of amusement brushed into his eyes as his grimace transformed slowly into a familiar smirk. "So what?"

"So what?" She couldn't collect her thoughts. Sitting back on her heels, she shook her head slowly. "So what?"

His grin widened. "You seem to have a strange habit of repeating what I'm saying."

"Because what you are saying is absolutely crazy! You did it on purpose! How could you just do that?"

He quirked a trembling eyebrow. "I told you my reason. I'm tired."

"But-but-but-"

Dryden cut her off with a weak laugh followed by a groan. "Calm down, Lady. My part in this is over, thank Law. I think I got you to put on a good show for the crowd. You were probably too into the fight, but I think I heard one person cheering for you. Now I want a nice meal and a nap."

He lifted up a trembling hand and patted the top of her clenched fingers. She hadn't realized her hands were grabbing fistfuls of thick sand. Her heart pounded and her stomach twisted with- with what? Why was she upset? He was right. Thanks to him, she was moving on in the Trials. She'd face Allen – her last step to Van. So, why? Why was she so distressed?

"Look at that silly expression on your face. It's like you wanted me to win. I'm not hurt if that's what you are worried about. Getting shocked like this is nothing compared to what Gadeth usually-"

"DRRRRRY-DRRRRRRY!"

Despite the busted sound system, the resounding cry easily echoed throughout the entire stadium. Both Hitomi and Dryden blinked in surprise.

The voice was a male… raised to a ridiculous high falsetto pitch.

"Speak of the green devil…" Dryden grunted under his breath. He let go of her hand, rose up slightly on his elbows, and turned his head to look behind him. Glancing with curious eyes, Hitomi's mouth dropped open.

The green man had emerged from the under-cove to the southwest like a flapping white dove, his thin fingers pinching up the long snowy robes that draped his body. A thin white scarf was wrapped around his neck and billowing out behind him; floating long tresses made of fabric. He took slow-motion steps, his hairy legs exposed to the lower thigh as he sashayed his skirts with each dramatically prissy footfall. Even from the distance, Hitomi could easily see the twinkles of concern radiating on his face.

Somehow- someway-

Gadeth had gotten his hands on a nurse's white uniform.

Dryden let out a long sigh beside her as if not surprised in the least. Behind the green man, other white cladded nurses were leaving their various under-coves to come to Dryden's aid. They were treading carefully, testing the ground for any of Hitomi's traps.

They still somehow passed Gadeth.

"You're angel of comfort is coming, Dry-dry!" The slow-running man cooed sweetly as he took another leisurely leaping step; the white blankets of his dress flying in the breeze like majestic wings. As his bare foot touched the sand, a crackling pop of electricity jolted from the ground and Gadeth's body froze with electrocution.

He'd hit a trap.

"Oh, no!" Hitomi gasped. "He stepped on one of the-"

"He's fine. At least he's dressed this time." The bored man stoically commented as his friend's yelp in pain. Still feeling dazed, she watched Gadeth flop to the ground gracefully. The white robes billowing out; a fallen angel. The nurse closest to him visibly sighed and started making her way back towards him.

Hitomi snorted a laugh.

"You better head back to the middle, Lady. Van should pop up anytime. They'll also have to find a way to fix the sound system you broke and remove all these crazy electric traps you've set."

With a warm smile, she said, "I've sure made a mess of things."

He nodded. "You are far more destructive than Gadeth and I combined."

"Thank you, Dryden."

The brown-haired man shot her his usual bored grin. "For what?"

"You know what for."

"I honestly have no idea what you are talking about." He lay back down with a deep sigh, but she saw his right eye twitch quickly.

A wink.

She floated in the darkness, happily suppressed in chains of her eternal black. It had been quiet for such a long time. The terrible force that had driven her was finally silent. Her fear of the unknown faded; forgotten. Her guilt had floated away like a billowing smoke. All burdens in her soul had been swept in the vast obscurity of her mind. She was a nothingness floating in a sea of insignificance.

And she was at peace. Perfect peace.

Wake…

The word was like a rock dropping in a still lake. It rippled; spreading largely through her nothing. Frowning, she waited for the ripples to disappear into the brink of her darkness. Settled after the disturbance had faded away, she slowly let her mind slip back to the nothing.

Wake…

There is was again. Distressing her. Forcing her to listen. It rippled her surrounds. Breaking her restful oblivion.

Wake, little one…

"No."

It was reflex. Her own voice caused more deep waves in the black. A sense of panic rushed through her body. And with it… memories… The insignificance gradually caved to her growing fear.

What was she afraid of again?

She didn't want to know. A small mew escaped her lips.

I need you to wake up now.

"I don't want to wake. I don't want to wake. The nothing… I am part of the nothing… I don't want to feel..." She whimpered. But her words broke the nothing further. An ceaseless upheaval of images rushed back to her with painful stabs of regret and confusion.

Master Folken… Dilandau… Fanelia…

Chid.

You have been asleep long enough. Now awaken!

She gasped. Against her will, her dark eyes burst open. A vicious flood of brilliant color attacked her senses and she howled at the bright light. Rolling to hide her face in her claws, she felt a twist of violent nausea lurch in her stomach and she gagged in a parched throat.

"Be careful, little one. You have suffered from dehydration and malnourishment. I have water here."

The voice was foreign. Her ears pricked to catch his voice further. It was an accent she'd never heard before.

Where was she?

"Shall I lower the tent's windows, Plaktu? The light is too much for her." The voice this time was younger, a male who was on the brink of manhood.

"Do it." The one called Plaktu ordered.

As the sound of fabric shifted, darkness encroached further behind her eyes. Still curled, she swallowed thickly in her scratchy throat.

"Water, little one, sit up and take it."

Merle very cautiously opened her eyes from behind her furry fingers. A clay cup was in front of her face. A skinny tan hand with outrageously long fingers grasped it gently. With a growl of need from deep within her parched throat, she sat up quickly, grabbed the cup, and in five large gulps, it was empty.

"Go easy! You'll choke!" The young voice called out. She clenched her eyes shut and thrust the cup out. She heard the water pour and the cup grow heavy. She drained it again. When she held it out once more, a warm hand brushed against her thin arm, tenderly forcing her arm down. Instead she smelled something that made her salivate heavily.

Food…

"You are thirsty, little one, but you must eat as well. Go slow on the food. You are hungry, but your stomach has gotten use to the emptiness. It will hurt even worse if you overindulge too quickly."

Panting, a wave of dizziness enveloped her as she tried to open her eyes. Another hand touched her shoulder from behind and she used it to steady herself. The scent from the hand was familiar, but she couldn't figure out why. The thick musty smell of long fur...

As the blackness finally cleared, she blinked rapidly and her surroundings slid into focus.

She was in a square tent room of about thirty feet wide and twenty feet high. The floor, the walls, the ceiling were all made of a rich thick fabric that had been stitched together with expert precision to keep the cold out. A soft glow from four large torches on mantle pikes stood proudly burning in all the corners. Several huge sacks lay rolled on their sides in the corner to her left, a table with two small stools on her right. She had been put in the middle of the room on a bedroll made of softly woven leaves and straw.

Glancing in front of her, she fixated on the thin frame, lanky arms and legs, and prominent cheekbones of her captor. He was dressed in a wrap, his deeply tanned chest half exposed. Her gaze shifted to his bald head and she shivered. He was barely dressed and had hardly any hair. He must be freezing.

"I am not your captor. You are kind to be concerned about my health, but I assure you, I am very warmblooded." The man's deep voice was rich with reassurance. Her dark eyes brushed over his deep twinkling ones and her tense heart eased considerably. Flicking her gaze to her own arms and legs, she noticed no chains on her ankles and wrists. She was in the dress she'd worn from Fanelia, but it had obviously been mended. The pads of her feet and hands were covered in thin bandages as well as several other cuts she'd acquired during her long journey. Putting a palm to the streak of pain that pricked her brain, she let out a small mew.

She'd been running. Something had driven her.

The image of Chid's still body flashed. The library books the boy had loved surrounding his quiet face.

"Leave the library for now, little one. I have the food right here waiting for you." He gestured to a forgotten steaming bowl beside her knees. The smell of roasted meat and gravy brought back her overactive saliva. Straightening her back with as much cat dignified as she could muster, she reached out with a weak hand and grasped the bowl. It was heavier than expected and several bits of meat and gravy tossed out as the bowl wobbled in her grip.

"Here, let me. You are still weak." The younger voice resounded behind her and the familiar scent washed over her once more. A shiver of fear and anger pierced her body and sent her heart racing. She let out a spitting hiss, dropped the bowl, and she twisted quickly. Her tail raised, her fur standing on end. She recognized the smell.

Musty unkempt fur... unwashed paws and ears...

The smell of her enemy.

Canine…

The boy let out a small whine of confusion and quickly zipped his alarmed brown eyes from the tall tan man to Merle and back again. His coarse brown hair was smoothed down on his neck; nonaggressive. Standing rapidly, the canine's short ears fell flat against his head with worry. He took a step forward causing Merle to hiss again and back away so fast, she ran into one of the stools and knocked it over. She pressed herself against the tent, cornered. Reaching out with her mind instantly, she tried to feel for the canine…

But was blocked. She felt her power trying desperately to reach the dog, but…

Turning her eyes to Plaktu, she saw his unblinking stare.

An intense fear gripped her belly and she yowled, covering her head with her orange arms.

"I'm sorry! I mean you no harm, little kitty!"

"Jajuka's son," the man called Plaktu said his deep voice gentle but firm. "Perhaps it would be best if you left. Inform your sister what has happened."

The young canine boy's mouth opened and closed briefly. His soft brown eyes fell to the ground with his long bushy tail as he swallowed down whatever he was about to say. "Yes, sir."

A whistle of cold air brushed against her stiff fur as he flicked the fabric door open and it tossed back into place behind him.

"Never before have I felt such a strong mind control in any breed of kitsune. You have been trained well."

A small mew escaped Merle's mouth and she felt her eyes watering behind the cover of her fingers.

"Ahhh, but you do not like your power. You despise it."

Silence fell in the warm room. The soft golden glow of the torchlight slowly soaked into her cold, shaking fear. She was lost. Alone. Surrounded. Who were these people? Where was she? Her mind powers were gone. She was useless, weak.

The minutes crept by slowly. Her stomach grumbled in hunger. Her throat ached for water.

Plaktu's voice finally broke into the quiet air. "Your mind twists with so many questions. In your confusion, you are not aware you have already found your answers. However, little one, you refuse to pull the lies from the truth that has been plainly laid at your feet." Just like the torch, the deep-set vibration of his tone warmed her further. Merle swallowed and glanced out of the shelter of her arms. The gentle, deep eyes were saturated with calm understanding… and sadness. "To help you better sort your own feelings, I find that I can only answer one of your questions for now."

"What question?" Merle choked out. "I haven't said a word."

"In your mind you have asked who we are, have you not?"

The kitsune's mouth opened slightly. "How did you-"

The man held up a tan hand and cut off her question. "All in due time."

They stared at each other for another moment. Then Plaktu's mouth curved into an easy smile that stretched widely on his thin face.

"Allow me to finally introduce myself. I am Plaktu, leader of the Mutts."

When one has been trying so desperately to get these Trials done, one find oneself at a strange, exhausted mindset.

I took a small break with this last scene.

I'm back to it now though.

My goal is to get these Trials done by Christmas.

Wish me luck... seriously, wish me luck.

blue...