"He is... a child," said Albert, staring at the boy from a distance. They had followed the trail of the poster to the leader of the New Serdio Party, and now, Albert could not quite bring himself to believe what he was seeing. The boy - Popo - must have been no more than sixteen, and yet he seemed to be leading an entire group of people fearlessly. That is, if the poster was to be believed.

"I've seen stranger things," said Dart. "Let's go talk to him."

You once did something much more difficult at that age, Albert reminded himself as they approached. His early days as king of Basil had been hectic, to say the least. At only ten years old, he had not truly understood the weight of responsibility that had been forced upon him: the care of an entire nation. To help prepare Albert to be king, his father had planned on putting him through rigorous training starting on his thirteenth birthday, but Carlo had died before he could see that plan become reality. Now, Albert wished that he had been more prepared, but he was still grateful for the wisdom that had been imparted to him before his father's death.

"The key to being a great king," King Carlo had said, "is to surround yourself with wise counsel."

"How do you know who is wise?" asked a young Albert, wiggling on his father's lap.

"The wise ones are usually older than us, and have gone through a great many experiences. They have made many terrible decisions, and learned from them."

"But if they made bad decisions, wouldn't that make them foolish?"

"On the contrary," said King Carlo. "The more poor decisions one makes, the more opportunities one has to learn. One who has touched burning coals understands that doing so will burn him. And in turn, that person can then turn to another, who is also reaching for the coals, and warn him of the consequences before they occur."

"Daddy, have you ever burned yourself?"

"Of course," his father laughed. "Many times. And you will, too, my son."

How right he had been! The number of regrets piling up on King Albert's shoulders were almost too great to bear, only made heavier by the feelings of the residents of Kazas. Whenever he contemplated his kingship, he always felt that a few decisions carried out differently could have avoided much heartache, both for himself and for his people. Even now, the lifeless face of Lavitz haunted him, reminding him of his failures. Had he not given in to Emperor Doel's demands, Lavitz would still be alive. And he still was unsure what had happened to Isaac and Garet. Their message must have gotten through, but Albert could not bring himself to ask Dart if either of them were still alive. He could still see their grim faces, steeled with determination, just before they had left across the lake.

How could he ever be sure that he had made the right decision?

"Hey, are you Popo?"

Dart's voice wrenched Albert firmly back into place as they reached the low table behind which stood the boy named Popo, wildly shouting about changing the future of Serdio until Dart addressed him, asking if he was the one mentioned in the poster. His black hair was cut haphazardly, and his clothes were shoddy, his pant legs soaked through. Albert considered that he might have a Tiberoan lineage, given the unusually dark hue of his skin. Upon hearing Dart's greeting, he started bouncing with excitement.

"Yes, I am!" he said happily. "Are you interested in joining the New Serdio Party?"

"Actually, yes," replied Dart. "But we have a few questions about it first."

His bouncing ceased, and the boy's eyes flooded with suspicion. But his voice remained unchanged as he said, "What kinds of questions?"

"We do not come from the Black Castle," encouraged Albert.

"Forgive me if I don't take the word of a complete stranger."

"That's fair," admitted Dart, casting a sideways glance to Albert. "We found your poster in a local tavern and wanted to talk to you about it."

"Okay, but first, I have three questions for you," challenged Popo.

"We will answer whatever questions you have," said Albert.

"Probably," inserted Dart.

Popo raised an eyebrow and said, "Who do you want to win the war?"

Dart began to speak, but Albert reached out to silence him. He knew that Dart's first instinct would be to say Basil, but that would be foolish. Popo would surely expect Sandora operatives to give such a quick and easy response. And besides, things were not that simple. All he wanted was peace for the people of Serdio. Was that not why he had given himself up to the enemy?

"Who wins is not as important as that we achieve peace," Albert said. "We need to end the war so that the suffering on the Serdian people is alleviated, not so that one side wins or loses."

Although Dart managed to adequately hide his surprise at this response, Popo was clearly taken aback. His mouth opened slightly, and his eyes widened, but he quickly recovered and acknowledged the response with a stiff nod. Then he posed his second question: "What is the role of children in wars?"

"Most certainly not to fight in battle," said King Albert indignantly. The boy smirked.

"You're right, but they can't do nothing, either," said Dart. "With fathers and older brothers off fighting, those left at home need help. Kids, especially older kids, can provide that."

"That is very wise, Dart." Already, the king's mind was buzzing with possibilities. Perhaps, when he got back to Bale, he could establish a new program enabling older children to volunteer to serve in simpler tasks for those in need. The necessary funds would be minimal, if not altogether dismissible, and they could set up the program in the already-existing shelters throughout Bale. In time, they may even be able to extend such services across Serdio. But Eastern Serdio was still relatively inaccessible because of the Serdian Mountains; they would need to pour extra resources into building the docks so that they could offer transport on the ocean north of the mountains instead of sending weary travelers through that accursed cave. He sighed; he needed to look over the budgets again and see if he could find any areas that were overfunded.

"Albert!"

"What?" he asked, looking up from his thoughts. Dart and Popo were both watching him, partly confused and partly amused. "My apologies. What was the third question?" He had vaguely processed the boy's voice, but he could not retroactively reconstruct the query.

Popo glanced suspiciously between them once more before saying, "Why should we fight?"

"In wars?" asked Albert.

Shrugging, Popo said, "In any situation, I suppose."

Albert considered the question carefully. Doel appeared to fight to obtain power, but this seemed a foolish answer. Why did Lavitz fight? he asked himself. Lavitz had never done so without good reason. He fought to train when he was younger, but this was merely a means to an end. The true end to his fights was so that he could be capable of protecting that which he loved. Lavitz had loved Basil more than anything else, and had fought to protect it to his dying breath. He died to protect me, thought Albert. To save my life.

"Maybe I'm the odd one out," said Dart before Albert could construct a response. "But I have only ever fought to protect something. I don't see the point of power if you can't use it to keep someone you love safe."

And there it was again, that gleam in his eye. Albert had seen it once before in Indels Castle, and again just now. That longing, that desire to protect Shana, and the love he felt for her - all were evident on his face in this moment. Even if Dart did not quite understand it, Albert thought it to be quite apparent. He smiled.

Popo considered them quietly, eyes lingering uncomfortably long on Albert, before saying, "Have either of you ever been to Kazas before?"

"No," said Dart.

"Once, when I was very young," said Albert.

"How old, would you say?"

"Um," stammered Albert. He could barely remember that time, so long ago. His father had been with him; he could see his long cloak trailing behind him, and feel his mother's arms supporting him on her hip. And like a flash, the memory ended. Just one glimpse into the past, too fleeting to be useful. "Almost too young to remember."

The boy eyed him intently for a long minute, and Albert cast a glance over to Dart, who only shrugged innocently. At last, he spoke again.

"You're him, aren't you?" Popo's voice was filled with a quiet awe.

"Sorry?"

"You're King Albert."

"That seems a foolish assumption."

Popo gestured to Dart. "He actually called you Albert just a second ago. And long hair, good posture, fancy talk! You're missing the cloak and crown, but I'm pretty sure it's you." A wide grin spread across his face.

"Whoa, kid," interrupted Dart. "You seriously think this poor sap is a king? Just look at him. And besides, why would King Albert come this deep into enemy territory anyway? You're not making sense."

The boy's eyes grew wide with realization, and he said, "You're here to free us!"

Albert let out an exasperated sigh and said, "Okay. I admit it. I am King Albert."

"Come on, man," complained Dart.

"But you must tell no one that I am here. It would be most hindering."

Popo started to bounce up and down again before forcing himself into a calm expression and muttering, "Of course. Discretion. So, uh... What is it that you need from me, sir?"

"I need to speak with you away from prying ears."

"Okay! Just follow me!" And he bounded off down the wet street, splashing about with every step.

They wound their way through the soaked streets, Dart plodding along uncomfortably as the ground sloped ever slightly downward, bringing another several inches of water over their legs. Albert thought that Dart might actually explode if it got any deeper. Fortunately, they eventually came to a dead end when Popo finally marched into a building that seemed to be set into the wall of the great trench. Craning his neck back, Albert could just make out the edge of the Black Castle far above them before eyeing the wall of rock and earth warily. As much as Dart hated traipsing through water, Albert knew that it would be just as unpleasant for him to go underground. That peculiar, irritating sensation that had dogged him since they entered the slums now rose over him in a panic, and he stopped in his tracks, sending water sloshing forward in a small wave that crashed a moment later onto a stone step.

"What is it?" asked Dart.

"Do we have to go underground?" The king fought to keep his voice steady and calm, but he was not quite sure if he had succeeded. He was far too distracted by the towering wall before him, waiting to collapse and crush him under its massive weight.

Sighing, Dart said, "Right..." He moved closer so that he could whisper. "Just bring a light breeze. Nothing too fancy, though."

Tearing his eyes from the wall, Albert tried to focus on Dart. The earth seemed to taunt him, but he ignored it. "I am not sure that I can."

"Sure you can. Not that hard, I'm sure. Look." Dart flicked his finger in the air, obscuring it carefully from Popo, and a tiny flame appeared on the end of it before quickly disappearing. "Do the same thing, but with wind."

"Is everything okay?" asked Popo, running back to them.

"Yeah, kid," said Dart. "We need to talk about something really fast. Go inside and wait for us."

The boy nodded and scampered off.

"You have to focus," muttered Dart. "Just imagine it happening, think about what it will feel like, and let it happen."

The king closed his eyes. He could feel the air sitting around him, the tiny swirling eddies nestled in the trench as people opened and closed doors, and the distant pull of the wind far above him. For a moment, he was reminded of how the scientists in Bale had hypothesized that density changes in the atmosphere caused weather patterns.

You think too much, Rose had said. You don't command the wind like your subjects; you guide it. Allow it to come to you, and then redistribute it.

So much information had been poured into him only yesterday morning, and Rose had been a very impatient teacher, no doubt worsened by the emotional strain of Lavitz's death. He had been ashamed when Shana managed to summon light and transform more easily than he had. As much as he loved the freedom that came with flight, something inside him had resisted the power residing there. He felt that resistance now, a thick stone wall repelling his entry, a tight lid that he could not budge. Slowly, he squeezed his arm past it, feeling the rushing power beyond the barrier, until he grabbed it. Dragging it out, he focused on what he wanted: a light breeze. For a moment, he thought he felt something rustle his hair, but it passed without incident.

You think too much.

He took a deep breath and tried to stop thinking. He felt the air around him and called it to him, beckoning it like a child. For a moment, it seemed to rush wildly, and he urged it to calm. The power resisted, but the bit of air that he could take hold of slid over his skin, tousling his hair in its bun and billowing his tunic. He grinned, feeling the confidence returning to his lungs.

"There you go," said Dart, patting him on the shoulder. "Now if we're inside and you feel really irritated, just bend the air around your hand or something. I feel like that will help. Maybe. I don't really know. Ask Rose later if it doesn't work."

Then turning, he strode into the house, Albert leaping forward to catch up. The little building was nestled right up next to the rock wall, and inside was a tunnel that led unnervingly out of sight, although a small bit of light reflected down its length. As soon as he saw them enter, Popo marched into it without hesitation, but Dart and Albert waited a moment.

"Underground again," complained Dart. "Nothing good has ever happened underground."

"Are you afraid of enclosed spaces?"

"Only a little. But the passage isn't really that small. It's just being underground that gets me. First the limestone cave, then the volcano, and then the dragon's nest. They turned me off to the idea of being covered in rock."

"I would agree," muttered Albert. He did not want to admit the wild pulsing of his heart, especially when only a few days ago, this situation would have been easy for him. Remembering Dart's words, he held up his hand, trying to imagine a swirl of air around his fist.

"Come on, guys!" echoed Popo's voice.

"Let's go," urged Dart before plunging down the passageway.

After a deep breath, Albert followed, focusing all his attention on his right hand. As they continued into the earth, his heart beat louder and louder until he thought it might jump from his chest. Bring me air! his mind screamed. But just when he thought that he might shatter from the discomfort, a sudden rush of wind blew past him, whipping down the path and easing him slightly. He tried to snatch it before it was gone, grabbing at it with mind and hand, flailing desperately in the dark passage; he was sure he looked foolish, but something else, a deep fear, had taken hold of his body. Feeling out the wind's existence, he called it to him, feeling the dribble of that immense, hidden power, and asked it to form around his hand. To his surprise, it complied, and a tiny tornado sprang up around his tightly clenched fist. At last, he was able to calm himself, the wind his torch in an oppressively dark chasm.

A few moments later, they stumbled out into a great room carved out of the rock. Tiny, dark crystals blinked at them from the ceiling, flickering in the torchlight coming from sconces set into the walls around them. Arrayed about the room were several long tables, and seated at their benches were perhaps a dozen individuals - some discussing, some poring over maps, and a couple munching away on tiny bits of food. Several heads turned their way as they entered, but Popo waved away their attention. The smell of damp permeated the air, only adding to Albert's discomfort. The wind whipped faster around his hand.

"Follow me!" said Popo excitedly as he charged his way to a corner table laden with posters like the one they had seen in the tavern. He pulled up two extra chairs and indicated that they sit.

"What do you need from me?" he asked. "Arms? A militia? A clever plan to cause a revolt?"

"We need little more than secrecy," said Albert, and Popo's face fell slightly. "We need a way into the Black Castle that avoids drawing too much attention."

"That's all?"

"I... Well, yes."

"And I thought it would be something hard..."

"Is that easy?" asked Dart.

"Come with me," said Popo, standing suddenly. They followed him through a doorway in the far wall, entering a tiny room with nothing but a well in the middle. A dry bucket sat abandoned next to it.

"A well?" asked Dart skeptically.

"This does seem a little... strange," commented Albert.

Bouncing again, Popo said, "But it's not really a well. It leads down to these tunnels that connect to the dungeons of the Black Castle!"

Albert stepped forward and peered down inside, seeing nothing but darkness. "Why would such a thing exist?"

"A long time ago, Emperor Doel wanted a quick way out of the castle in case things ever went bad. With these passages, he could escape the city as a commoner. But nobody ever uses them anymore."

"Would they not have sealed the other end?" asked Albert. It was certainly what he would have done.

"Possibly, but I'm not really sure."

"Even so, I think it's our best bet," muttered Dart as he eyed the depths of the well. "How deep is it, do you think?"

"Fifty feet?" guessed Popo. Dart reached into the darkness, lit a small flame in his hand, and dropped it. They watched it fall for a couple seconds until it reached water, extinguishing instantly. Fifty feet seemed accurate.

"What was that?" asked the boy, rushing forward. "I saw a light or something!"

"I didn't see anything," shrugged Dart.

"But I could've sworn... Maybe I'm going crazy."

Trying to distract the child, Albert said, "This is an important lead. It could work. We should get back to the others."

"Agreed," said Dart. Then to Popo, "Hey, kid. This is exactly what we need, but we can't go down right now. Either tonight right before sundown, or tomorrow. Will you be here?"

The boy grinned and nodded furiously. "You bet!"

"Great. We'll be back. But remember: you can't tell anyone we were here."

"Of course! My lips are sealed!"


With the sun still above the mountains, Albert and Dart made it back to the inn and told the others about their discovery. At the description of the passage, Shana shuddered. No doubt, the prospect of traveling in the dark was something she did not relish. It seemed that three of them would be in constant discomfort until they reached the castle: Shana because of the darkness, Dart because of the damp, and Albert because of the confined spaces. For a moment, the king wished that he were someone else, just a simple man instead of a dragoon or a king, enjoying an afternoon drinking tea instead of plotting a dangerous mission.

What would Lavitz think of us? he wondered, running a frustrated hand over his chin. Would Lavitz sanction this daring escapade, or condemn it? Were they doing the right thing by taking the war into their own hands? As they sat in this tiny room discussing the details of the plan, the king could not help but feel... wrong. He had lived his life as an honest man, never keeping anything in the dark, being as transparent a ruler as possible. But now, they were going to sneak into his uncle's home, under guise, to kill him. Already, they had lied and deceived their way through Kazas. What was becoming of him?

Their plan was relatively simple, but without several weeks of scouting out the castle or some leaked intelligence, there were many opportunities for things to go awry, leaving them fighting through waves of soldiers just to escape the city. They were going in blind, unaware of guards' usual routes or the timing of their shifts. Perhaps with more time, they would have been able to discern such important information and use it to their advantage. But the oppression upon his home city weighed heavily on the king's mind; the sooner they stopped Doel, the sooner his people would be free.

And beyond all this apprehension, he understood that they were entering with four dragoons. Surely, Emperor Doel could not be anticipating such a thing, and that was where they had a foothold. Should they be trapped in the castle, they could fight their way out with an ancient power on their side.

But then suddenly, a realization hit the king's chest, and he muttered, "He knows."

"He knows what?" asked Haschel, who was seated closest to him. Albert's mind had wandered from their conversation that had lasted the past several hours, and now he glanced at those around him.

"Doel knows that we are dragoons."

"Gods," breathed Dart. "You're probably right."

"How would he know that?" asked Shana.

Albert replied, "The soldiers at Hoax would have seen Rose and Dart transformed, and their defeat of the giganto. And beyond this, he would have been well-informed of Greham's defeat, and the lack of a dragoon spirit on his body. Even if Lavitz and I had not been able to wield its power, Doel would know that we had it. The only unknown to him is Shana's dragoon spirit."

"Lloyd could be waiting for us, too," said Rose.

Dart clenched his fist. "We'll be ready this time."

"I wouldn't underestimate him," she said.

"Well, he shouldn't underestimate us, either. We'll be ready."

"Either way," interrupted the king, "we should be wary going into the castle. Emperor Doel would have herded all his strongest allies to him once he learned of my escape and the assault on Hellena. Lloyd will likely be among them. And with his sword-"

"The Dragon Buster," offered Rose.

"Yes, with the Dragon Buster, he will be quite dangerous."

"He's nothing to sneeze at," said Haschel, rubbing his knuckles. "He bested Dart and me in a fight."

Albert started. "When did this happen?"

"The Hero Competition."

"You both fought in the Hero Competition?" Albert had heard of it many times, but had never taken the time to visit Lohan to see it. The many tales of grave injuries and death swirled through his mind. "You had mentioned a tournament, but I never imagined..."

"Yeah, and Dart almost won. Probably would have if not for Lloyd. The man entered the competition and practically danced his way to the final match, beating Dart a little too easily."

"Was it that effortless for him?"

"Yes," said Haschel and Dart in unison.

"He was very fast," nodded Shana.

"And strong," added Haschel, fingering his neck.

The king sighed. "I suppose there is nothing we can do except hope that we do not encounter him, and be wise and careful if we do." He glanced outside and saw darkness creeping over the city. "Night falls... Do we want to do this tonight?"

Haschel shrugged and said, "Why not?"

"It's all very sudden," murmured Shana.

"Yeah, I think we should wait until tomorrow," said Dart.

"Alright," conceded Haschel. "But if we all get arrested tonight, it's not my fault."