The next morning, Dart woke early and roamed the near-empty streets of Lohan. He'd grown accustomed to the clustered buildings after so long here, but he still didn't enjoy them. He wanted an open field, or nothing but trees around him for miles. As he meandered, he found himself on the main strip of town, still shadowed by the dimness of early morning. The open gate was just down the road, and he absentmindedly turned toward it.

He thought it odd that the city would be so inviting in the middle of a war. He knew that it was officially neutral, but the threat of attack still seemed enough to him to set up more precautions, like maybe closing the gate until business hours resumed. As he walked through it, he considered the substantial defense they could mount here should the city come under attack and its great vulnerability without a gate.

As soon as he was outside, the world seemed calmer and simpler to him. He could see no one on the road coming or going. He walked through the dried mud of the road into the open world and turned left, leaving the path. As he walked, he could see the giant tent housing the tournament jutting out from the north side of the city, arrayed in splendor even on the outside. A great banner hung there reading 231st Annual Hero Competition in decorative gold and black letters. He kept walking until it was far behind him.

With Lohan only a hill on the horizon, Dart finally came to a halt. He turned to the left and stood in the middle of the tranquility, watching the sun beginning to peek over the Western Mountains. The earth was damp from the morning dew, but he sat down to watch the sunrise anyway.

He stayed there for many minutes, breathing in his solitude. For the first time in several days, he was away from the bustle of the city, surrounded instead by swaying grass and kind breezes. The sun rose higher and higher into the sky, bringing a comforting warmth across the plains. As he watched the blue canvas, he noted several billowing clouds cast high above him, watching over the restful earth.

It had been quite a few days since the last rain, and he began to wonder when the next storm would roll through. A glance to the south said that it would not be today, but he hoped that they would be able to spend a night listening to the thunder, of course in the dry and comfortable inn. He made a mental note to invest in rain jacket before they left the city. The thought of traveling through another downpour was not a favorable one.

As the sun beat down on his face, Dart's mind wandered to the match he was to fight later that day. Lloyd was a fearsome warrior, to be sure, but was he better than a dragoon? He thought that he might be able to match him - just maybe - if he was at the top of his game and wholly focused. No more distractions. He flexed his right arm, testing it out, and flinched when his hidden wound ached. He knew that the muscle would take time to heal, but he was frustrated that his dragoon abilities had not healed it overnight. The pain could prove a great distraction during the fight.

From a long distance behind him, Dart was barely able to make out the creaking sound of a wagon, and he turned to see one traveling south toward Lohan along the road, jolting him back to the real world. Everyone else is probably up, he thought, considering the sun's position. I should probably head back. Reluctantly, he stood and began the walk back to town, letting his fingers flow over the heads of grass as he went.

His inner peace all but vanished as he walked into the city. Already, people were milling about, rushing around to trade and sell. All the vendors were setting up their stalls in hopes to attract customers as they filed in through the gates. Of course, it made sense. This was the day of the final match of the Hero Competition; many people who could not afford a week-long vacation would be arriving today. It was probably Lohan's busiest day of the year. He prayed that no one would recognize him and stop him for a conversation.

Ducking his head down whenever possible, he made his way back to the One-Eyed Crow, eager to be off the streets as soon as possible. Minutes later, he arrived and was greeted by the scent of fresh bread and butter. He almost skipped past the dining hall to the stairs, but his stomach cried out fiercely for sustenance, and he changed his mind and sat down at a table.

He ate his food heartily, comfortably alone for a time, until he was interrupted by two young men who sat down opposite him and tried to strike up a conversation about the tournament. Not even trying to hide his irritation, Dart scowled fiercely at them, although they didn't seem to notice as they began pressing him.

"Dart, where did you learn to fight?"

"What drives you in battle?"

"Have you ever been in a real fight?"

"Have you ever killed anyone?"

After only the first couple questions, Dart lost all his appetite and tried to find a way out of the situation. Eventually, he remarked that he'd forgotten something important upstairs, left the plate for the innkeeper to clean, and scampered away toward his room, ignoring - or maybe even pleased with - their offended expressions.

He'd been mildly intrigued that none of his friends had been downstairs, but was surprised when he found no one in his room. Lavitz must have gone into town. Just then, he heard a door open behind him. He whirled and saw Shana standing across the hall, watching him with concern.

"Dart," she greeted.

"H-hey," he managed to say. He'd been startled and left breathless. Her hair was loose and slightly haphazard from her sleep, draping over her collarbone in soft waves. Sunlight from a nearby window streamed across her face, lighting her eyes. Something about her this morning made him want to rush over to her, wrap her in his arms, bury his face in her neck, and never let go. Get yourself together, he scolded. He straightened and cleared his throat.

"You... How'd you sleep?" he asked, trying to sound only distantly concerned.

"Well enough," she returned before walking toward him and pulling his sleeve up his arm. Her fingers were soft. "How's your arm?"

"Better, but not completely healed," he said. She was close to him again.

Stop.

He watched her run her fingers over the skin where the arrow had pierced him, still a little bruised, but unbroken.

"Does that hurt?"

"No."

In truth, he hadn't paid enough attention to notice. Instead, he watched her, becoming ever more aware of her proximity.

Stop.

He drew in a sharp breath and backed away from her before walking into his room.

"I should probably keep it bound for the fight, though," he said conversationally. "Don't want people to wonder how I healed overnight. I bet half the town is talking about what happened." He chuckled, hoping she didn't hear the nervousness in his voice or his heart pounding in his chest.

She approached the doorway, and he grabbed a bandage given to him at the tournament and began wrapping it around his bicep. His one-handed actions were clumsy, but he didn't want Shana that close to him anymore. He willed her to leave, but instead she approached when his finger slipped and the bandage fell to the floor.

"You really should let me do that," she said as she picked it up. "At least make it look more believable."

Act normal, he thought as she wrapped her hands around his arm. "Fine," he said, summoning a harsh tone that he didn't really feel and immediately regretting it when her face fell slightly. He held out his arm and looked away until she was done.

"Thanks," he muttered.

"No problem." She avoided his gaze and left immediately, shutting the door behind her.

He sat down on his bed and sighed. He knew it was wrong. He knew that he was probably hurting her, but he couldn't admit to himself what he was feeling. It gnawed at him every day, circling his heart and waiting for its chance to strike. He knew what it was, but he couldn't voice it. He couldn't even think it. Because then things would change.

The doorknob turned, and his heart skipped a beat as it opened. But in walked Lavitz, not Shana, somber and serious.

"Oh, hey, Dart," he said. "You're back."

"Yeah, I went out to the fields. Needed some time to myself."

"Outside the city?"

Dart nodded.

"I wouldn't mind leaving myself sometime soon," he said, and something in his voice sounded irritated.

"Nothing from Bale?"

Sinking onto his mattress, Lavitz shook his head. "Nothing. I try not to worry, but... I can't help it. I feel like I should have gotten something by now."

In truth, Dart felt the same way. It was strange that Basil would have kept their best soldier in the dark for so long, especially when he'd delivered news of the dragon's death. Something didn't add up, but Dart kept telling himself that everything was fine. Perhaps traveling conditions had been difficult lately.

"I'm sure that a letter is on its way here right now," he said.

Lavitz gave him a half-hearted smile.

As the match drew nearer, Dart grew antsy and found himself pacing in his room. He'd wanted to go outside and spend time in the city, maybe even sample the activities around the arena, but his earlier encounter with his new fans had kept him firmly in place.

The day wore on slowly, and Lavitz brought him some food around noon, though he could barely bring himself to eat it. His mind kept racing with possibilities of what might happen in little more than a few hours. He flexed his arm and winced at the pain.

At last, the time came to make his way to the arena. He was to be there a half hour early so that his equipment could be checked over; they wanted to ensure that it would be both a fair fight and a good show.

His friends came with him as he made his way through the crowded streets, following the streamlining of people toward the arena's tent. Steady wind had begun to howl over the city, and Dart was surprised to see several puffy clouds in the sky above him; perhaps it would rain after all.

Several minutes later, they split up as Rose, Lavitz, and Shana headed for their seats and Dart toward the contestant's waiting room.

As he stepped toward the doorway, he heard someone call his name from behind him. He turned reluctantly, afraid to see another stranger preparing to pummel him with questions, but was relieved when Haschel came jogging toward him.

"Hey, I just wanted to wish you luck!" he panted, stopping and reaching out his hand.

Dart shook it and grinned, saying, "Thanks, man. I have to say, though, I was really hoping I would be fighting you today."

"Ah, well... The world is yet to be explored." He let out a forced chuckle. Then his face turned serious and he said, "Just beat him for me, okay?"

"I'll do my best."

After a second, Haschel laughed and said, "And don't die on us!" Then he turned and started walking toward the stands.

"Wouldn't dream of it!" Dart called after him before heading down the stairs.

Ginger awaited him, beaming and far too excited to see him. He humored her as she asked about his arm, smiling and nodding that he was alright and carefully avoiding any prying hands that may want to examine the wound, and she finally moved on to explain the procedures of the final match. After a while, he grew distracted, watching the arena instead of Ginger, hearing nothing but his own heartbeat.

Could he really win? Could he earn that kind of honor? What would Shana think of him if he won? If he lost?

These thoughts plagued him as the time slid by slowly, several men looking over his armor and his sword, testing for any stray items not allowed in the arena. Then five minutes before the match was to start, the announcer appeared once again in the middle of the arena, and Dart was told to step out.

His heart beat wildly in his chest, echoing the sounds of the stands above him, as he placed one foot forward, and then the other, trying to remember who he was and the strength he held within him. As if to calm his nerves, the dragoon spirit shot out a wave of heat, rushing through his body, giving him the slightest bit of confidence. Looking ahead, he saw Lloyd step out as well, still wearing black, hair still that bright silver, face still expressionless. Dart wondered if he were the least bit nervous. Perhaps he was like Rose, and had just become adept at driving his emotions away, and he was stifling his anxiety now. Or maybe, he really was fearless.

They met in the center, only a couple feet from the announcer as he cried out their names for the spectators. How anybody could hear anything over the screams and shouts of the audience was beyond Dart. Glancing around, he saw more people watching them than he thought could fit in the entire city. He looked over to his friends, who watched carefully.

As previously instructed, Dart reached forward and extended a hand to Lloyd, who took it firmly. As they shook hands, Lloyd's eyes connected with his, and a shiver went down Dart's spine.

"Good luck. Let's give them a show," Dart managed to say.

"Indeed," returned Lloyd. His voice was icy and dry, piercing Dart's body like rain. "I dedicate this match to what fate has in store for us... Dart Feld."

Dart froze. He was sure he looked idiotic, mouth hanging open in front of a thousand people, but he was shocked into a stupor.

"How do you know my name?" he sputtered.

A single smirk traced its way across Lloyd's face before he turned and came to stand at the far edge of the painted circle. The announcer cleared his throat, forcing Dart to his senses and indicating that he needed to move. Mind still spinning, Dart drew his sword and took his place, doing his best to cast the wild thoughts out of his mind.

Focus. No more distractions. But he couldn't help it.

How could he have known my name?

The announcer walked out of the arena, leaving the two competitors. Dart felt his heart racing and tried to breathe deeply to calm himself.

Before he was truly prepared, the gong sounded, but Lloyd did not move. He did not even assume a defensive stance, but stood watching Dart expectantly. Dart felt his senses honing in on the fight, tuning out the surrounding noise, muscles drawing tight in anticipation. He took a step to the right; Lloyd mirrored him. He dared another, and Lloyd followed. A slow step forward - returned by Lloyd. Then he attacked.

Dart leapt forward to strike at Lloyd's exposed shoulder, bringing his sword down as fast as possible. There was no metal clang, no resistance whatsoever, but rather a clean swipe through the air. Dart blinked. Lloyd was no longer in front of him.

"You missed."

Dart whirled to his right, where Lloyd stood only a couple feet from him, a repulsive sneer decorating his face. Without wasting time on processing what had just happened, Dart attacked once again, this time jabbing forward toward his chest, but once again, his sword made no contact. This time, Lloyd had taken a step back - so fast that Dart had barely seen the movement - mere inches from where he had been.

"That's impossible," said Dart.

"Clearly, it's not," said Lloyd in his slick voice, full of disdain. "Try again." He then dropped his hands, letting his lean sword dangle and graze the dirt by his foot.

Bewildered, Dart waited for a moment to see what Lloyd would do, but he merely stood there, guard down, waiting for an attack. Dart stepped forward and swung his sword from the left this time, but Lloyd brought his sword up in a split second, and the sharp sound of steel on steel reverberated throughout the arena. Dart did not step back, but pressed down, both hands gripping his sword hilt, bearing his weight down on Lloyd.

But nothing was happening. No matter how much force Dart put on his sword, Lloyd did not budge, and he was only using one hand. Realizing that he was making no headway, Dart pushed off and backed away several paces, utterly confused. The tension was rising; once again, he felt the call of the dragoon, but he forced it away. Heat licked at his fingertips, and he readjusted his grip on his sword, willing the fire to remain hidden.

"Come on, Dart. You can do better than that!" called Lloyd before raising his sword and stepping forward.

Dart was barely able to raise his sword in time to block Lloyd's attack, and his arms shuddered as the shock of impact raced through them. He cringed slightly when the wave hit his wound, but was forced to recover quickly as Lloyd came at him once again. From left to right, fast to slow, Lloyd did little more than toy with him. Dart was barely able to keep up, and he readied himself for the pain of steel connecting with flesh, but it did not come. Lloyd flicked his wrist, and Dart's sword flew from his hand to land several feet away.

Holding up his hands in surrender, Dart recalled the violent way Lloyd had forced Haschel to yield the match and hoped that Lloyd wouldn't feel it necessary to strike him. Just as he was about to ring his hand around to forfeit, Lloyd turned his back to him and walked over to the fallen sword before bending over and snatching it up. The movement was oddly graceful. Then he turned and tossed the sword back to Dart.

Reaching up, Dart caught the blade by the hilt, drastically confused.

"You can't beat me," said Lloyd, almost sounding disappointed. "Surrender the battle."

Rage flashed through Dart as he realized Lloyd's plan. He had returned the sword so that Dart would surrender while still armed, to humiliate him even further. I'm not playing that game, he thought, listening to the pounding noise of the crowd, and readied his weapon.

"Very well." Lloyd sounded mildly irritated as he waited. "Come."

And Dart did. He dashed forward, closing the distance between them, and called upon his dragoon spirit. He knew that it was dangerous, that he might accidentally transform if he wasn't careful, but he was pretty sure that he could contain the power if he focused. The fuel inside him lit, and he felt superior strength and speed lend itself to him.

He struck hard and fast, and was supremely pleased when Lloyd showed the slightest bit of incredulity. But it wasn't enough. Lloyd parried every blow, returning them with vigor, and a minute later had Dart's sword pinned to the ground. Dart struggled to pull it out from under his thick boots, but then cold steel was pressed against his throat, and he ceased his attempts. His anger flared as he released his hold on the sword, and for one split second, he saw a tiny tongue of flame on his fingers.

Rising slowly, Dart turned and looked at Lloyd, breathing heavily in his rage.

"Careful now," Lloyd said smoothly. "Wouldn't want to burn the place down."

Dart's breath caught. Had he seen? Surely not. Dart had hardly seen it himself. But if Lloyd had seen the fire, would he be suspicious? Would he report them and get them arrested? Dart's stomach squirmed; he just wanted to be done. He held up his hand and surrendered the match.

His heart sank as Lloyd lowered his sword, a look of pleased judgment on his face while the crowds roared their applause. Dart cursed as he reached down to retrieve his sword before sliding it back into its sheath. He thought of what Lavitz would say, surely disappointed. His chest tightened as he considered Shana's face. He wanted to be back out in the field, surrounded by nothing but nature.

The announcer ran out into the arena once again, trailed by Haschel, Atlow, and two attendants. Dart avoided Haschel's gaze.

"And that is it, ladies and gentlemen," boomed out the announcer. "The two-hundred thirty-first Hero Competition has officially come to a close. Let's give it up for the winner! The strongest warrior in the whole of Endiness... Lloyd!" He hoisted Lloyd's arm into the air as the stands rang out deafening shouts. "Your prize, sir," he added as one of the attendants handed Lloyd a sizeable sack filled with coins.

"And in second place, Dart!" As the applause sounded, Dart forced on a smile as he waved. A moment later, someone handed him a sack as well, albeit much smaller than Lloyd's, and he bounced it in his hand, hearing the jingle of coin on coin.

After announcing Haschel and Atlow as the two third-place winners of the competition, they handed them each a small bag, and then it was over. They trudged back, and Dart was in the waiting room with Haschel, frowning at the sack of gold.

"Hey, let's go," said Haschel, patting him on the back. "Everyone's waiting for you."

"Right..." He hesitated.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he lied. "Let's go." He turned toward the exit, but Haschel stopped him.

"You did your best. That's all you can do. And you did a great job, even if you lost."

Dart said nothing in reply, but looked down at his hands.

"Come on," Haschel gently prompted before walking away.

Dart followed, and at the top of the stairs, he was greeted by at least fifty people all trying to force their way to a conversation with him, and he cringed. He was grateful when Haschel powered through them, leaving him a small trail to follow on the way to the tent's entrance. When he saw the others standing nearby as countless people filed past them, he felt a mixture of joy and shame.

When he locked eyes with Shana, she began jumping up and down and waving to him through the crowd. They made their way over, and she was the first to speak, somehow beaming with pride instead of disappointment. He still avoided her gaze.

"Congratulations! You won second place!" she exclaimed.

"Thanks, but... it's not first. I'm sorry I didn't do better." His cheeks burned with his failure.

"Dart, you did great. Amazing, actually. I couldn't be prouder."

He gave a small smile as he dared to believe her. Knowing that she was proud had almost made it worth it.

"She's right, though," said Lavitz. "You really did a great job. Lloyd was just a weird fluke of some kind."

"Thanks," replied Dart. Then, holding out the sack of coins, he added, "Oh, and here's me paying you back for everything. Four hundred gold."

"You don't actually have to pay me back, you know."

"I know. But I want to."

Shaking his head, Lavitz took the sack of coins and weighed it in his hands. "Four hundred gold? That's just excessive. I should give you some back."

"How about I just take a loan later when I need it?"

"Fair enough," laughed Lavitz.

The group talked for several more minutes, with even a few remarks from Rose occasionally, until a familiar man walked by them on his way out of the arena. There was no mistaking that platinum hair as Lloyd sauntered past, until Lavitz stepped forward and stopped him. Dart hadn't noticed until now, but Lloyd was actually taller than even Lavitz, though not quite so muscular. He turned a sour eye across the group, eyes lingering on Shana before looking back at the man before them. Instinctively, Dart placed himself in front of her. Whatever was in his eye, Dart didn't like it.

"Hey, I just wanted to say that you had a good match with Dart," said Lavitz. "I'd be honored to have a duel with you one day."

Lloyd cast a critical eye over Lavitz before saying, "You're no match for me."

Dart couldn't mistake the twinge of hurt pride in Lavitz's face, but he managed to recover quickly.

"Ah, it must be true," he said, smiling. "But maybe one day, when I've trained more."

After hesitating, Lloyd said, "I'll think about it," before turning to Dart. "Maybe you should do some training, too."

The rage flared instantly, but a soft prod from Shana kept him from erupting. Instead, he gritted his teeth and said, "Good match. See you next year."

And with that, Lloyd nodded curtly and walked away.

"I don't think I like him," muttered Shana.

"Me, either," said Haschel loudly. "He's way too serious!"

A tense chuckle ran over them before silence returned. After a moment, Dart asked, "So what do we do now? I haven't seen any of the attractions around the arena yet. Anybody want to go check those out?"

Haschel opened his mouth to answer, but Lavitz interrupted him. "That sounds like a great idea, but I really should be getting back to the inn to see if any letters have arrived. How about you and Shana go walk around, and Haschel, Rose, and I will head back?"

"You need three people to pick up a letter?" asked Rose scornfully.

"Well, no... But I figured that you would want to be alone anyway, and I was really hoping to talk to Master Haschel about some of his techniques." The response was obviously rushed together, and Dart immediately knew what he was doing. He crossed his arms and shot a rude look at Lavitz, who smirked back at him.

"That sounds like a great idea!" said Haschel. "I would love to tell you all about the Rouge art."

"You know what, Haschel," interrupted Dart. "You haven't told me very much about it. How about you come with us?"

Dart heard something behind him and turned to see Shana giggling. "Stop that," he said. "This isn't funny."

"I, for one, think it's hilarious," said Haschel, chuckling. "I'm going with Lavitz. Bye!"

And with that, the three of them left the tent altogether.

Dart turned awkwardly to Shana, who grinned and said, "Shall we?"

An hour or so later, they were meandering back through the darkening streets of Lohan. Countless people milled about, eager for some late-night entertainment, high off the adrenaline of the Hero Competition. Dart and Shana walked with a strained distance between them, as if some unnerving aura forcefully pushed them away from each other.

Their time in the arena had been interesting, if interesting were the right word to describe strained conversation and many failed attempts at an obstacle course. He hadn't really wanted to try it out, but Shana had insisted, and he now carried more than one hefty bruise as a result. They hadn't really known what to talk about, either, and although things were relatively normal between them when they were with their friends, while they were alone their problems came into a painfully bright light. Shana wanted something that Dart could not give her - at least not yet. And those unspoken words had hung around their necks like prison weights as they'd tried different carnival games and pretended to have fun. After only an hour, they had both tired of it and come up with feeble excuses to go back to the inn.

Now, as they walked through the door, they were met by a chorus of men and women discussing the tournament over roast chicken and turnip greens. In the back corner, they spotted Lavitz and Haschel and quickly went over to join them.

"How'd it go?" asked Lavitz, eyes darting back and forth between them.

"Fine," said Dart before abruptly changing the subject. "Did you get a letter?"

Lavitz shook his head, eyes heavy, and said, "No. I'm starting to worry."

"Starting?" asked Shana perceptively.

He forced a smile. "I'm sure everything is fine."

"Enough about that!" said Haschel loudly. "How did your date go?"

Dart's cheeks flushed red, and he saw Shana's do the same. "It wasn't a date," he said forcefully. "And I said it was fine. Can we move on?"

Haschel began giggling gleefully, and Dart glared as Lavitz did the same.

Dart avoided Shana's gaze the rest of the evening until they retired. Once he was safely ensconced in the stranger-free room, Dart hastily removed his armor and the useless bandage on his arm before flopping onto the bed. He was exhausted from the day's events and couldn't wait to sleep. But a funny feeling in his gut told him that Lavitz wanted more information, and his intuition proved true.

"Dart," he said, "did you do anything?" His voice sounded almost accusatory.

"Yeah, we played some of the carnival games," Dart deflected.

"You know I don't mean carnival games. Did you do anything?"

"What is there to do?" Dart refused to meet his gaze.

"You didn't even take her hand?"

After a pause, Dart said, "She's not a child. It's not like she's going to run off on me and get lost."

"Dart." This time he was forceful with the word, and Dart cringed slightly. "You know what I'm talking about. Don't you?"

"... I guess."

In truth, Dart knew exactly what he was talking about. But what Lavitz didn't understand was that something was off between him and Shana. Ever since the first round in the arena, and that strange encounter as she had cleaned his wound, something had been wrong. He couldn't bring himself to act on whatever was going inside him, and a simple date wasn't going to change that. In fact, it may have made it worse.

"You can't keep letting her go on like this forever, you know. It's not healthy for either of you."

"I just... I don't feel anything like that," said Dart angrily, sitting up on the bed and finally looking at Lavitz. "You can't force yourself to feel something that isn't there."

"That isn't there? Seriously?" Lavitz was dumbfounded. Dart had known it was a lie before he said it, that the feelings were there, very real and very strong, but something inside him fought it. "I know you're scared to lose people, but you can't just keep worrying about the future. Shana is here, now. Whatever relationship you had when you were little has changed. She's a grown woman now, and you need to start focusing on the present."

"I... can't..."

"You can't what?"

Dart's mind searched for an excuse, something that would hold Lavitz at bay for a while longer. And deep within him, he found one. Even as he said the words aloud, he knew them to be true. That this was the reason he fought his own feelings, this was the reason why he couldn't be with Shana. He may have made a decision in his vision in the shrine, but Shana wasn't here now. He could think clearly.

"After all this stuff with the war is sorted out, I'm leaving. I was only going to stay in Seles for a few days anyway before I left again, and everything just sort of happened. I never found the Black Monster, but I will. I'm going to find him, and kill him for what he did to my parents. Everything I've been doing for the past five years has been leading me there, and I will not let anything take that away from me. And bringing her with me... It's too dangerous. I can't let her follow me anymore, not to the Black Monster."

Lavitz's expression turned to one of grief and understanding. He watched him for a long, uncomfortable minute before he finally spoke.

"Revenge... It doesn't actually fix anything, you know. I will admit, there was something supremely satisfying in sinking my lance into Greham's side, but afterward... Afterward, my father is still dead. I still can't talk to him, hug him, get advice from him. My father is dead, Dart. And so are your parents. No amount of revenge will ever change that."

Dart looked down as Lavitz continued. "I hated Greham," he said. "But killing him only brought me more grief. The person you should be looking for is not from your past."

Dart sighed. He wanted to believe Lavitz, but he wasn't sure that he could just yet. The pain and anger surrounding his parents' death had been with him even longer than Shana. He remembered the vow he had made so very long ago to avenge them. Much time may have passed, and he may have been distracted, but he had never forgotten. And he doubted that he ever would.

"You're my best friend," said Lavitz. "I wouldn't lead you astray. You two could really be something great, if you just put your mind to it."

"Thanks," replied Dart sourly.

A laugh escaped Lavitz as he said, "Don't worry. My advice doesn't cost too much. A couple drinks after the war is over will be sufficient."

"Didn't I just give you four hundred gold?"

"That was for food and lodging. Advice from the great Lavitz Slambert is something else altogether." He smiled warmly. "I know this really great place in Bale. You can take me there."

Dart chuckled and shook his head. For a moment, he considered confessing everything to Lavitz, but changed his mind.

"Listen, I know this isn't exactly relevant right now, but I feel like it's important," he said.

"What is it?"

"That guy... Lloyd. He knew my name. My real name, my family name."

Concern flashed over Lavitz's face. "How?"

"I don't know. I've never told anybody. Not even Shana knows my family name. But Lloyd said it, right before the match started."

"That explains your reaction to him..." Placing his hand on his chin, Lavitz mulled over the information. "How could he know something like that?"

Dart opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by some kind of commotion downstairs. Someone was shouting. He glanced over to Lavitz, who was also clearly startled by the noises. Dart couldn't quite make out the words, and curiosity got the best of him as he went to open the door. With no barrier between them and the stairs, the words rang through loud and clear: someone was shouting Lavitz's name.

"Sir Lavitz!" the voice bellowed as great thumping sounds began on the stairs. Shana opened the door across the hall and peeked out at Dart, Rose just visible behind her. "Sir Lavitz!"

Lavitz shot up quickly and bolted through the door and down the stairs, Dart, Shana, and Rose following swiftly behind. As they reached the first flight of stairs, they stopped short when they saw the body. A man drenched in blood lay splayed over the stairs, an arrow protruding out of his back. A man in Basil blue.

Shana screamed, and Lavitz rushed to the soldier, turning him over as gently as he could. He was still breathing, but the breaths came through weak and shallow. As his eyes lifted to Lavitz's face, recognition crossed them, and he smiled weakly.

"Sir Lavitz," he said. "I won't die in vain."

"What are you talking about? What happened to you?"

"Sir. Bale. It's... been captured."

"What?" Fury and worry flashed over Lavitz's face.

"Sandora came and surprised us. A siege... The king... King Albert gave himself up. For the people."

"When did this happen?"

He tried to reply, but his eyes flitted closed, and Lavitz shook him slightly.

"No, no, stay with me, just a little longer," muttered Lavitz.

Shana rushed forward and knelt by the soldier. "I can heal him," she said, voice shaking.

"He's lost too much blood," said Rose. "Even if you did, I doubt he'd make it through the night."

Lavitz placed his hand on the soldier's face. "Where is the king?" he asked. "Where is King Albert?"

The soldier struggled to form the right words, and with one more ragged breath, he said, "Hellena..." Then the light faded from his eyes.

Lavitz stood, staring in disbelief at the corpse before him. His breaths grew heavy, and he looked up at Dart. "We have to go now," he said, voice rising as the realization took hold of him. "We have to go to Hellena!" He started up the stairs, trying to push past Dart, but he resisted.

"Lavitz, calm down!" said Dart, trying to shake him into his senses. "This isn't how we handle things!"

"There's no time, Dart!" shouted Lavitz. "We have to go now! We have to save him!"

"Pull yourself together! It wouldn't make sense to leave right now, not after nightfall."

"I don't care! We have to leave!"

Dart struggled to hold Lavitz back, to get him to see reason. He was only faintly aware of the many eyes trained on them, and the innkeeper sending word out to the local police by a courier. He only barely heard the door open as the courier left and someone else came inside and rushed over to them.

"Lavitz, stop!" he cried.

A thump sounded, and Lavitz crumpled to the ground, Haschel standing behind him, bewildered and baring his fist.