yeah, dont worry guys, im still alive! this chapter was a challenge, ill admit. for awhile i was lazy and then i discouraged, but then i just reminded myself that im going to feel so satisfied when im finally done with this series. dont get me wrong, i love writing this, but wow its a monster sometimes. so enjoy the update!

So this is what a caged animal felt like. Frustrated, helpless, angry, agitated, and anything related to it. He hated it. He absolutely loathed it.

For once, Ronin cursed his sharp senses. He almost wished he was deaf. A few minutes earlier he could hear the fighting from all the way outside, the screams, the clang of weapons, all the sounds associated with a battle. His men and women were still alive and fighting, still trying to free Moonhaven and him. The noise tormented his spirit more than it uplifted it; he had no way of knowing what was happening, no idea if the Leafmen were winning the fight or being slaughtered by it. He was forced to pace and wait and listen.

He didn't know how long the battle raged but when the cacophony suddenly went dead silent, he felt himself begin to tear apart in anticipation and fear. There was only silence, heavy and thick, the only noise was the dull pounding of his heart. What did the silence mean? Victory or death?

He stood there so long his legs ached by the time he made himself sit on his cot. He had to focus and calm down. Ronin crossed his legs and started applying a calming method that his predecessor taught him a long time ago. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply through his nose and out his mouth, focusing only on that. After awhile, his heartbeat slowed and his mind sharpened into clarity.

The sound of footsteps coming for his door. Ronin remained in his seated position. No matter who was coming for him, whether it be friend or foe, he was going to sit there and peaceably wait, and meet whatever was coming to him with a calm state of mind.

When the door clicked open, however, his blue eyes went wide in shock. He sprang to his feet as the Boggans unceremoniously tossed Nod into the room without a thought. Ronin caught him just in time before the boy's head could hit the floor. The Boggans left, shutting the door behind them, but Ronin barely noticed. He quickly scanned the unconscious young man for injuries. Bruises in the shape of meaty hands encircled his throat. His breathing was labored as if he was in pain, suggesting that something happened to his ribs.

The rose was what made Ronin's breath hitch. It was...huge. Monstrously huge. The stem was almost as thick as the arm it encircled. The roots underneath Nod's skin were longer and whiter, stark against his tanned complexion. The head of the flower was bulging, the green shell nearly gone to reveal a tight bundle of blood-red petals.

The rose was half this size and it had already been a burden on Nod's body. Now that it had grown in such speed and capacity would...would Nod even wake up from this?

No, he couldn't think like that. Nod was headstrong and stubborn; he will make it through this. Ronin just had to take care of him until he gathered the energy to come back to him.

With as much care as possible, since Ronin was certain that Nod had a cracked or broken rib, the general picked up his charge and lowered him onto the cot. The bed was hard and had no pillow, so Ronin removed Nod's cloak and bundled it underneath the boy's head. There was a pitcher of tepid water that the Boggans gave him every day in the corner. Tearing off a sleeve from his tunic, Ronin soaked the fabric in the water placed it over Nod's forehead. It wasn't much but it was all he could do.

Besides sitting down next to him to wait. Nowadays, waiting seems to be all the General Ronin could do, He pushed back the feeling of uselessness since that wasn't going to be any help to him and Nod.

Ronin did not know how long he sat there with one hand on Nod's shoulder and the other cushioning his head that rested on the cot beside the boy. He did not fall asleep just in case he needed to be awake for what could come next. As his lack of luck would have it, what he dreaded came marching down the hall and halted behind his door.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

Batlash slowly walked in, like he knew that he would be met with hostility and was approaching a furious animal with care. He wasn't wrong. Ronin had gotten to his feet before the door was even an inch opened, shoulders back, feet apart, and teeth bared, standing protectively between Nod and their captor. He didn't care about Batlash's entourage or his lack of weapons. If Batlash so much as sneezed suspiciously, Ronin would attack them with only his hands and teeth.

The Lord did not advance any further, but cocked his head to the side in a mocking sort of way. He gave a mirthless chuckle. "I'm not here to hurt him, general. I need him alive as much as you want him to stay that way."

The Boggan raised his hand, showing the Leafman a small bottle wrapped in leather, a corked stoppered in its mouth. If Batlash thought that Ronin would move aside because he was offering him a drink, then he was sorely mistaken.

"It's a revitalizing potion," the Lord explained. "Just a few drops of this, and the boy will wake up with enough strength to keep him alive long enough for the rose to fulfill its purpose. You and I both know with the thing that large, his body won't be able to meet the demands of energy it requires. I need him to wake up. You want him to wake up. Move aside and I can save his life. Keep standing there and deluding yourself that you are protecting him, and he will die."

Silence reigned between them as Ronin ran through his options. As much as he hated to admit it, Ronin knew that Batlash was right. The potion could be the exact opposite the Boggan claimed it to be, but that wouldn't make any sense if Batlash needed Nod alive, and that point was abundantly made clear. Ronin could not risk it, not with the boy's life in the balance. Hating himself, hating Batlash, hating the circumstances, the general shifted aside to allow Batlash to come near Nod, but he didn't move far.

The Boggan Lord approached, removing the cork from the bottle. Kneeling slightly, he lifted Nod's head, tilting it forward and carefully poured a small trickle into his mouth. When he was done, he stepped back and Ronin refilled the space, eyes glued to Nod's face for a flicker of awareness.

He waited in tense silence, almost not daring to breathe, when Nod's eyes started moving beneath his closed lids. His eyebrows and mouth twitched and he slowly opened his eyes, revealing confused and cloudy brown orbs. Coughing suddenly racked his lungs, and Ronin steadied Nod so he wouldn't roll off the cot, the man letting out a sigh of relief.

"Where am...?" Nod started asking in a raspy, dry voice. He trailed off when his vision was filled with the bright green of a familiar tunic. Groggily, he looked up to meet Ronin's relieved blue eyes, his face and hair dirty, but his smile was warm and strong.

"Hey..." the man said in a breathy, nervous chuckle.

Nod lunged into Ronin in a desperate hug with energy he didn't know he possessed. It didn't matter though. Ronin returned the embrace with comforting strength, a grip that was almost as desperate as the youth's. Nod's hold on him was vice-like and his face was buried in Ronin's chest, betraying how much the boy had been scared for him, how relieved he was to find him alive and breathing. Ronin's hand rubbed circles on the boy's back to soothe him, not giving the audience they had one thought.

"You're okay?" Nod mumbled incoherently from his chest

Ronin almost laughed. Nod was the one injured, drained, and in peril of the Boggans, yet he was asking if Ronin was okay? "Yes, I'm fine," he replied. "And yourself?"

Nod shrugged nonchalantly. "Could be better."

"Touching," Batlash drawled dryly. "Now if you are done with your reunion, I have a busy day and would like to get this over with."

Nod and Ronin withdrew from each other, the younger man easing up from the cot into a sitting position. The boy was amazed of the renewed strength that had returned to him. Even the pain in his chest had subsided to a dull throb, so it only twinged when he sat up. Then he saw the flask held in Batlash's grip and put two and two together.

Ronin turned an icy glare on the Lord. "Wherever he's going, I'm going with him."

Batlash snorted. "Unless you have information concerning the King's rose, then you've no business to accompany us."

"It's alright Ronin," Nod assured. "I can handle him on my own."

"That's what worries me," the general replied, his mouth tugging slightly at the corners. "The way you 'handle' things gets you into all sorts of trouble."

Nod caught on to his humor and bantered back. "Don't you trust me, old man?"

"Only about as far as I can throw you."

"Ahem," the Lord almost snapped. "Do I need to force you apart or are you quite finished?"

Nod and Ronin exchanged a look, a silent conversation. Don't worry, I'll be alright, Nod said with his eyes. Ronin returned it with an imperceptible dip of his chin, seriousness in place of mirth. I know you will, but just be careful.

Straightening his shoulders, Nod followed Batlash's lead to the hallway. But before the Boggan guard closed to the door, the Lord addressed Ronin one last time. "Those sounds you were hearing earlier general, were your men and women revolting against my Boggans, if you hadn't figured it out. Like fools, they believed they could gain the upper hand. I just want you to know that not all of them survived, and the ones that did are going to wish they had died."

With grim finality, Batlash spun on his heel and the Boggan shut the door. Before it completely closed, Nod caught Ronin's eyes one last time. He could tell the man was trying to contain his anger and fear, to appear strong, maybe for him, but Nod knew him better than anyone. The boy had no time say goodbye to him before the door closed, the lock was clicked in place, and he was shoved forward and forced to follow the Boggan leader.

They walked in silence. Nod got to see the damage they had wrought on Moonhaven's interior, gritting his teeth as his eyes scanned the places where great tapestries and works of art used to be displayed, where ornate doors had been thrown off their hinges and their rooms ransacked, and where the decorative plants and vines that had snaked down the halls had been rotted and killed. He didn't say anything, not wanting to piss Batlash off just yet. It was clear that the Lord knew more about the rose than he did, and if Nod could glean as much information off of him as he could, then maybe he could figure out how to unlock the rose's power. Thank goodness, he didn't bring the Tablet Master's journal with him.

It was then that Nod realized where they were headed. This was the hallway to Ariel's study, or what was her study. Batlash pushed open the double doors and sauntered in, claiming the space as his own. To Nod's relief, the inside didn't even look like it had been touched. The books lining the walls were still on their shelves, the rug was free of bloodstains, and the furniture was still in place. He knew from long sentry hours that this was Ariel's favorite place, besides the inner garden. The young Queen adored books. His eyes flitted to the far corner where she stowed her favorites: adventure and swashbuckler novels, with a few books on magic. The pile had been left alone; he'd have to let her know when he got out of here.

"Leave us," the Boggan Lord ordered, pulling the teen from his thoughts. The guards grunted and filed out, closing the doors. Batlash locked them with a ring of keys then turned to look at him, standing in the middle of the room. Nod refused to relax unless the Lord dropped his guard first.

They stood their silently, staring at each other for a good while, Batlash standing by the door and Nod with his arms crossed. The young man took the chance to study his adversary closely for the first time. He was average for a Boggan, around Ronin's height and build: not to stout but not brutishly huge either. It was definitely a black widow skin draped across his shoulders, its shiny black exoskeleton glinting darkly in the faint light. Nod couldn't see past the shadows cast by the mask to distinguish any features of the Boggan's face, not even his eyes which were no doubt raking their gaze over him and the rose.

It didn't look like Batlash was going to speak first; annoying, since he was the one that wanted to talk and Nod had nothing to say to him. "Are you just going to stand there all day, or are you going to start your monologue? I kind of want to nap." Not an entire lie, he did feel tired.

"I wouldn't advice falling asleep," the Lord replied tersely, not at all put off by Nod's snide comment. "And I am not your story-book villain that reveals his entire plan to the hero because he thinks he's won. Take a seat and drop the smart alack act. I have questions, and you will answer them truthfully."

He was as emotionless as a rock but Nod had practice in reading people that wanted to appear blank, thanks to Ronin and later on, Thryn. Batlash didn't seem like one to give things away easily but maybe if he paid attention to the signs, he would find a hole in his armor. The Lord took a seat in the armchair, gesturing to the other, a small table the only thing that would separate them.

Nod sat down, trying to loosen his tense muscles enough to give off a relax appearance. It did him no good if Batlash knew how scared he was.

The Lord steepled his fingers. With the mask in the way, Nod had no way of knowing when he would open his mouth, so the brunette interjected before he could begin grilling him.

"So why is it a bad idea for me to fall asleep?"

He noted with no small amount of satisfaction that Batlash was a little thrown by his sudden inquiry. "By now, even you should know that. Has the rose not been rather taxing on your body?"

So he either knew that already or was clever enough to put the pieces together. Probably the former. "I can handle it."

"If you believe that, you're more of a fool than I originally thought," he sneered. He spoke to him as if Nod were a young child. "With the rose at that size, most, if not all, your strength will go toward sustaining it, and you're only able to stand now thanks to my potion. To fall asleep would likely mean slipping into a coma. I imagine you're beginning to feel the effects."

As if on cue, a dizzy spell hit him, making his head swim and spin. Nod couldn't stop the wince as his fingers flew to his temple, massaging them like that would help the headache. His arm began to throb dully, right where the rose's roots submerged underneath his skin. The young Leafman bit the inside of his cheek to bring himself back into focus. With this constant, annoying pain, he was in more danger of slipping up and revealing more than he should.

He hadn't noticed Batlash had walked away until he placed a small glass of water on the table. Nod assumed it was for him but he didn't take it and Batlash didn't remove his hand; it was supposed to be a bribe, something to entice him into being talkative. Like he'd fall for that.

"You can have a drink after you answer my questions, so I suggest you don't ask any more stupid ones. First question: do you know what the rose represents?"

Nod did not have to feign ignorance on that one. What the rose represents? What kind of question was that? "You mean besides being the King's rose?"

The Lord gave a noncommittal grunt. Nod's curiosity was aroused; did the symbolism have something to do with its power? Batlash moved on. "Next question then. Why did the rose attach itself to you?"

"Wrong place at the wrong time really," Nod replied promptly, shrugging his shoulders. God, he felt like he was back in school being interrogated by a teacher instead of the leader of the Boggans. It was weirdly comforting.

This invoked an irritated growl. "What place and what time?"

"What does it matter to you? The point is, we got to it first before you did, and that seems to piss you off. It's a flower, so where did you expect it to be? In your territory?"

"Enough!" his opponent suddenly barked sharply. From years of sparring with Ronin, Nod kept himself from flinching. "I am not going to be sassed by a mere child! Why don't you just admit that you stole it from me?"

"Technically, I'm nineteen, almost old enough to drink at Nim's parties and...wait," he trailed off when what Batlash said finally sank in. "What do you mean I stole it? And from you?!"

"That rose is the property of the Boggans!" the Lord declared in a self-righteous tone. "Or to be more specific, it was King Mandrake's, and therefore now mine."

Nod's headache tripled and it was not because he was feeling dizzy. He glared darkly at Batlash, not believing the Boggan would try and make that ridiculous claim. "Okay, one: how can a flower, a thing that is literally the color green, be Boggan property? Two: why did I find it deep in Leafman territory? And three: are you really telling me that you invaded my home, enslaved the Leafmen, imprisoned Ronin, and made everyone's lives a living hell because you think we stole a rose from you?"

The silence that reigned between them was so thick and tense, it would have suffocated anyone else besides the two foes that glared each other down, daring the other to look away. Nod was livid. This had to be a dream, and it was a stupid one!

Batlash chuckled and then started outright laughing. Nod's anger turned into confusion, and then bewilderment. The Boggan's laughter was disturbing. It sounded young and full of pure humor, with a guttural edge to it. It was so out of place coming from this imposing, dark figure that spoke coldly and with only apathy. The young man suddenly wondered if Batlash was as old as he made himself out to be. Could the spider skin and mask be hiding his true age? His laugh sounded like a teenager's!

Just as abruptly, Batlash cut off his laughing, once again becoming stone cold. Nod couldn't decide which of his mood swings was more scary. "So you had no idea that the rose seed was once encased inside Mandrake's staff?"

Well, that was news. "What are you talking about?"

"Such ignorance! Do they not teach any of you tree huggers about Boggan culture?" he asked, ignoring the incredulous and exasperated look the teenager was giving him. "Each king passes down the staff to the next in line. It's an heirloom older than the Rings of Knowledge, and has always bestowed good luck and power on its bearer. That's due to the rose seed inside its crown, lying dormant and unknown to the Boggan Kings. Until now that is. When the great Mandrake was defeated, his staff was lost and the rose seed must have been freed somehow."

"That doesn't explain how Boggans came to possess it in the first place," Nod argued, mentally filing away the information to tell Ronin later. He would probably know what to do with it. "I think it was really you guys who stole it from us!"

Batlash studied him like a hawk would look at a mouse. "You know more than you let on, don't you Nod? I almost find it funny how you, the boy, is sitting here trying to pry information from me. You're still lost and as helpless as you were when you started out on your fool's errand. But I'll humor you, if only so you know that in the end, there's nothing you can do to save your friends and comrades."

Nod stayed silent, not able to come with a witty retort or something memorable to say. Batlash wasn't all wrong and perhaps Nod had been a little too optimistic thinking he could play the game of secrets and ulterior motives. He had to try though, and Batlash didn't seem to realize that he revealed a little more than he meant to. He was not one to give up easily.

"The Boggans obtained the seed as a gift," the Lord explained. "It came from our first King and was passed down ever since. And your beloved, long-ago male leader and our first ruler were one in the same."

He tried to fight down the grim realization that came with this fact. It couldn't be true. Batlash had to be making it up...but then what reason would he have for lying? "...No way."

The Lord did not bother to hide his smugness. "King Jori of the Rot, first king of the Boggans."

Patamon had to be very careful here. He had to keep complete control of his winds inside Moonhaven, for the stone palace was well plugged up against drafts of any sort. Even though he'd been assured that most of the Boggans were so dumb they wouldn't see him coming even if he turned into a tornado, (for some reason, this had made him feel insulted, but he couldn't place why) Patamon still kept his presence hidden. Better to err on the side of caution.

Great, now he sounded like Wanikiy. The crazy old lizard was starting to rub off on him. The sylph didn't like dwelling on his previous life, when he was actually alive; the gap of memories was a hole inside that he couldn't allow to swallow him whole, because that would do no good and he'd be as addle-brained as an undine. However, he had the feeling that when he was alive, he was more prone to rush into things without thinking, more impulsive than he was now. Guess death taught him that lesson the hard way. Perhaps it was his bad habit that led to the end of his life.

Patamon only had this sort of feeling a few times before, and Wanikiy had advised to always follow up on them, listen to his gut, trust his instincts. It was not like he had anything better to do; when you're an air spirit, you tended to have a lot of times on your hands and the means to go places in an instant.

Which was what he was doing at the moment; following his gut. When he had been protecting the living forest-dwellers from certain death (again), he felt the same feeling before. It wasn't long before he figured out what had triggered it. Or really, who had triggered it.

There was just something strange about this Boggan leader. He had to find out what it was, or it would eat at him for ages. So he gusted into Moonhaven, moving slowly and keeping close to the ground. Using the air, he spread out his sense, probing down the halls and into various rooms, looking for the sense of the someone he needed to find. He detected movement through the air coming from all sorts of directions, but he ignored them. Where was that feeling?

There! It was actually not too far away. Following it, he sped up a little since this part of the stronghold was practically deserted. He took a left and at the end of the hallway, spotted two sentries in front of large, double doors. One guard was leaning on the wall, snoozing at his post. The other was glaring at the former, probably feeling stupid for not thinking of the idea first.

It was no effort to slip past them and under the door crack. Two people in the room, one he recognized immediately. Good, he could at least tell the others that Nod was alive. Now for the one he came for. Drifting carefully to the ceiling, Patamon looked down on them sitting in the chairs, talking to one another. The conversation didn't really interest him. From up high, he could study the Lord unobtrusively and without giving away his presence.

The sylph didn't see them in the way that was considered normal. Long story short, he saw their spirits, their essence that made them up; a literal representation of their souls. Nod's was always this bright, nearly blinding light...or more like a pool of water in the sunlight, reflecting the rays right into your eyes. His unquiet-pool-of-light-water soul was not a serene, still one. It was constantly moving with waves and ripples. When the boy got upset, it turned into a whirlpool. Patamon briefly wondered why it was always so restless.

He forced himself to ignore Nod's unquiet-pool-of-light-water (even though it loved his attention, a testament to the boy's actual personality), and focused on Batlash's spirit.

That was..odd. It didn't seem to fit. The Boggan's spirit was...warped, twisted, torn apart and mashed together again, but in bad, painful way. Patamon had never seen anything like it.

It didn't flicker like a dying soul but it shifted and condensed in on itself. This shouldn't be happening. A spirit, a soul, no matter how good or evil the person, was supposed to be content and comfortable in its body. This thing looked liked it wanted to tear itself apart or escape.

One moment, it was a gray, smoky essence; a morning-mist-dancing-with-the-wind. Peaceful and playful. But then it shifted and contorted into something else. A broken-but-burning-wriggling-creature. That was the only way the sylph could describe it. His own essence recoiled in disgust at the offness it oozed. This could only mean one thing.

There were two spirits warring inside one body. One was supposed to be there, had been since the body was born, and the other was a parasite trying to eat away everything until it was the only thing left. Unfortunately, it seemed that the latter was winning the fight.

That feeling lingered. In that case, so would Patamon. The sylph would not rest until he solved the mystery of Batlash, the thing behind the mask.

Batlash did not give Nod much time to process this revelation. The boy's brain was in muddled shock. He and Wanikiy had figured that Jori wasn't a saint, if his destroyed relationship with his wife and strange absence of his children was anything to go by, but he was the first King of the Boggans? Did this mean he founded them? Started the everlasting war? Did he become king after what happened with Marise or was he the leader all along?

The Lord took no pity in that regard and fired off the next on his list of seemingly pointless questions. "Tell me where Queen Ariel is."

The fear that accompanied the inquiry snapped his mind back to the present. He didn't bother denying it, the Boggan would be able to tell anyway. Nod couldn't help but sneer at him. "Yeah, like I would. Why don't you just threaten me with pain and torture already, and skip the pointless banter?"

"Well, if you're so eager for that, then I'll oblige you." With that, the Lord jerked his chin at something behind Nod.

The boy's senses rang alarm bells a moment too late. A sharp, piercing pain stabbed him in the back of his shoulder, spreading through his body like fire. He cried in pain. Brown eyes darted to peripheral vision. Two fangs had sunk into his shoulder, connected to a mouth with a sadistic smile, and a beautiful, cruel face. Eight eyes of liquid night, filled with blood lust and glee.

His entire body went slack. He couldn't feel anything. He tried to move, twitch his fingers, do something! It was unlike anything he felt; utter helplessness and extreme fear. Nod barely registered that he had slipped from his seat and was on the ground until he a sideways view of everything and Batlash's boots filled his vision.

"Madam Belladonna's venom is very effective for death, but with the right amount, she can render her victim's body completely paralyzed." Everything sounded like it was underwater. Nod had to use every last bit of his strength just to listen to his words. All he was aware of was his own numbness and the boring gaze of Batlash standing over him.

"Tonight, I'm removing the rose from your arm and putting it in its rightful place. I believe you already know that it carries dark and light magic, and in the end, it must make a choice. Things will be much easier for me if you're unable to fight the process. And once you are free of the rose, then nothing can stop me from doing whatever I want to you. Mark my words, you'll be telling me everything I want to know before tomorrow even comes."

Nod wished that he was unconscious, if only to escape this horrifying numbness. Yet all he could do was watch but not process, and think at the pace of slug. He didn't register the arms dragging him to God knew where. Nod fell into an unnatural half-sleep, left with only the icy terror gripping at him like thorns.