The dragoon spirit weighed heavy in Haschel's pocket as a thousand thoughts flitted through his head simultaneously. Would they be arrested? Did he really want to keep traveling with these people - with Rose? Were they just going to leave Doel dead on the floor? How much would Shana miss him if he left? Would Dart miss him? Did he really want to be a dragoon? Hadn't the commander told them to get out as soon as possible? Should he leave them to chase after Claire? Was there even any hope of finding her anymore? Could they make it out of the castle? Shouldn't they have left by now? And what is that tingling sensation in my hand?

He took his hand out of his pocket and shook it furiously, as if it would make the feeling go away. He had listened - but not really - to Albert and Dart and Shana bicker about what to do with the body and how to get out of the castle for what seemed like two hours. It was simple to him: just walk out the front door as if nothing had happened. Act like you belong somewhere, and nobody will question it, he thought. At least, not when they had a dead emperor to fool around with. From now on, the dragoons will all be known as the most successful assassins in Endiness. I wonder if we'll be offered any contracts after this? That is, if we're not hanged.

"It would be wrong to leave him here," said the king.

"What do you want to do, carry him out of the castle?" asked Dart. "That seems like a great idea! Very stealthy! We can't keep fighting like this. We have to get out of here!"

Haschel rolled his left shoulder, amazed at how good it felt. It had been dislocated during the fight when that burst of electricity had sent him careening into the wall, but he'd known better than to stop a fight among dragoons just to get it set back into place. But as soon as Shana had transformed and sent that light over them all, his arm had miraculously fixed itself, and now he felt better than ever. Normally, at his age, a fight left him sore and jaunted, his bones aching from overuse, but now he almost felt his old youth returning to him. He flexed his fingers and marveled at the complete lack of resistance within his joints. Was this because of Shana's magic or the gem burning a hole in his pocket?

"Look," he said, taking a couple steps forward, ready to have something decided. "How about we just get out of the castle? Soon enough, somebody's going to come marching in here and figure out what we've done, and it's best to be ahead of them. I don't feel like spending the night in a cell. Not to mention, the guards will take care of the body. He'll get a proper burial."

"But how will we know what will become of Sandora?" asked Albert. "Ending the war is not so easy as killing the leader of the opposition, especially without an army behind me. Someone else will inherit my uncle's position, and if they are not friendly to my cause, the new Sandora could be just as, if not more, oppressive than the last. We need to make sure that the right people are put in charge."

"And how do you suggest we do that?" said Haschel skeptically.

Dart shook his head. "It won't look good for you to show up, kill Doel, and then appoint whoever you want to rule over them. The people would revolt. You know how they feel about him."

Albert's face fell slightly, but he quickly recovered and said, "Then we find a democratic solution. Set up a way for the people to elect a representative that would suit them."

"And if they choose someone who hates Basil?"

"That is simply a risk we have to take. I can speak with the new leader and try to reach a diplomatic peace."

"Hang on," interrupted Haschel, rubbing his left shoulder. "How long is this going to take?"

"Two... three weeks, depending on how many obstacles we encounter."

Rolling his eyes, Haschel spun around. This was ridiculous. They needed to get out of the city. They had just killed an emperor, for Soa's sake. They could not stand around chatting forever.

"Haschel is right," said Rose, and Haschel turned to gape at her. "Something needs to be decided quickly. We're all in danger here." She looked pointedly at Shana.

"Rose, dear," said Haschel with a grin. "Are you agreeing with me?"

"Don't take it personally," she snapped.

Then he nudged Shana's shoulder and whispered, "Our love will be undying and eternal."

The mood in the room changed abruptly as frantic voices and heavy footsteps sounded from beyond the door. The group turned to each other, urgent and afraid, unable to move quickly enough to avoid what would follow. Shana inched slowly behind Dart as the doors flew open, ushering in the Great Commander and six armed guards. His eyes flitted to the charred, beheaded guard on the floor, then to the emperor's body, and finally to the group of dragoons.

That's okay, though, thought Haschel. This is what he wanted us to do. Right?

The commander's mouth set in a grim line as each guard gasped and readied their weapons. With a single gesture, the commander stayed the guards and approached, his expression somber.

"Did he remember?" he asked simply.

Albert nodded. "Yes. In his final moments, Doel was himself again."

"Then I must thank you for fulfilling my wishes. Unfortunately, the fact that a monarch now lies dead in the castle, and you all being so... clearly responsible, cannot be overlooked. Like it or not, Your Majesty, this was not a public execution, a just judgment delivered by the government, but will be perceived as a ruthless murder born from revenge and hatred."

"I understand," said the king, lifting his head a little higher, holding his shoulders a little straighter. "I am prepared to accept the just punishment for my actions."

"Not just you, I'm afraid." The commander looked at each of them. "You are all accomplices to this murder and will be tried as such."

"What?" cried Dart and Haschel.

"But you wanted this!" shouted Haschel. "You helped us get here!"

The guards near the door glanced among each other with bewildered and pained expressions, and the commander shot him a wrathful look.

"And did I not warn you to leave immediately?" he said quietly enough that the guards couldn't hear.

Rage flaring at the betrayal, Haschel was about to leap forward and start a spirited debate when Albert interrupted.

"Is there no way to seek immunity for them?" asked the king. "They were only acting under my command."

He sighed. "Perhaps..." The commander hesitated, then flicked his wrist, drawing the guards forward. "Little can be decided now. We must tend to the emperor's body and begin the process of mourning. Please understand me: I intend you no harm. I will see what manner of immunity can be discussed, but for now, you must be escorted to the dungeons."

Shana radiated anxiety, and Dart took an instinctive step toward her. The commander must have noticed, because he looked at her and said, "I'll see to it that you are in the greatest comfort that we can provide. No one will take you from this castle without my explicit command."

"Please," said Albert, eyeing Dart's hand on his sword hilt. "Please, do not resist. We will figure this all out in good time. I swear that you will not be held for long."

Not a promise you can guarantee, Your Highness, thought Haschel cynically.

"Thank you for your cooperation, Your Majesty," nodded the commander. "Men, escort them to the dungeons, and be sure that they are well fed and watered. Give them fresh linens as well. And none of this information is to leave this room. You know nothing of what happened to the emperor, and you know nothing of five intruders who were found in the throne room. Is that clear?"

They nodded stiffly before surrounding the group, and Haschel shifted defensively. He cast a glance to Dart, who shook his head warily, and managed to refrain from beating one of the guards senseless so that they could make a run for it. As the commander walked toward Doel's body, a saddened expression on his face, Haschel noticed Albert cast one more glance behind him as they were escorted from the room.

"Where's Kongol?" Haschel asked, glancing about at the empty waiting hall. When Dart shrugged, he called, "Hey, you in the front!" The guard kept his gaze forward. "Where's the giganto?" No answer.

Curse this entire country and their pilfering guards, he thought. Least they could do is answer. We're about to be beheaded anyway.

The ring of guards led them out a side door, away from the more common areas, and down several flights of stairs. It wasn't long before they were guided into two windowless cells, separated only by a thin wall of bars and each decorated with two flimsy-looking cots. Shana and Rose were led into one while the men were shepherded into the other. As the guards clanged the iron doors closed behind them and locked them tight, Haschel turned and rested his arms on the bars.

"I thought Doel didn't like prisoners in the castle," he prodded. The guard did little but glance up at him with a sour face before turning and scurrying out the door.

"It would appear that these are temporary holding cells, keeping criminals only until they can be transported away to Hellena," said the king.

"And what makes you think that?" challenged Haschel. He only slightly regretted his harsh tone.

Albert held out his hands innocently. "It is the most logical assumption to make."

"You can croon about logic all you want," said Rose grumpily, sitting on her flimsy cot and leaning against the wall. It was a wonder it didn't tilt over and collapse. Shame, Haschel thought as it refused to budge. At least we could have had some comedic relief. It's stuffy in here. "But at some point we need to get out of here."

"She's right," said Dart. Crossing his arms, he turned to Albert, who was now seated somewhat uncomfortably. "What exactly is your plan?"

"I only have the beginnings of one," replied Albert, fingering his chin. "The commander does not truly wish to see us hanged, and that is to our benefit. I am sure that I can strike some kind of deal with him. After all, Emperor Doel was a traitor to the crown, and guilty of treason."

"But we still killed him," said Shana quietly. Haschel eyed her downcast features; she felt guilty.

Albert nodded. "It is true. Imperial Sandora has not been part of the Kingdom of Basil for two decades, and by their standards, we are the ones guilty of treason."

"Shouldn't the commander at least have warned us about this?" asked Haschel. "I mean, he basically asked us to go kill Doel, and then he arrests us for doing it?"

"We all knew that it was a risk."

"We should've left as soon as he was dead." Haschel turned away in frustration and his hand flew to his pocket. As his fingers wrapped around the gem, he felt that tingling sensation again, this time shooting up his arm. For some reason, it didn't hurt like he would have expected. He lifted out the dragoon spirit and ran his thumb over its shiny purple surface. He could sense the vast reserves of power hidden within it, waiting patiently to be let out. That's all great... But why did you have to pick me?

"Hey!" said Dart suddenly, making Haschel jump. "I forgot that you got a dragoon spirit! You're one of us now!"

"Yes, isn't it thrilling," said Haschel nonchalantly, glancing toward Shana's worried eyes. "Guess I'll be coming with you after all. I may wear Rose down yet." He smirked as the black-haired beauty rolled her eyes.

"You weren't planning on staying with us?" asked Dart, a twinge of hurt in his voice.

"I'm too old for this stuff. My creaking bones are about to give up on me. But it would appear that fate has other things in store for me than just living my twilight years peaceably on a Serdian beach."

"Indeed," muttered Albert. "It seems that fate has something great planned for all of us."

"What do you mean?" asked Dart.

"Does it not seem odd? These sudden occurrences of legendary things?" The king looked around at each of them. "No one has heard of a dragoon for eleven thousand years, and suddenly we have five standing in one room. There must be a reason."

Shana shifted forward. "You don't think that it was just to end the war?" she asked.

"No, although that may be part of it. But everything that happened with Seles, taking Shana, and now this scheme of Lloyd's... I just cannot help but feel that we have a greater role to play yet."

"Dragoons are often attracted to each other," offered Rose. "And dragoon spirits are guided by fate."

"See?" said Albert, gesturing toward her.

"You mean to follow him," said Shana. "Lloyd. You want to go to Tiberoa."

"We have to," said Dart quietly. "We still need answers. We don't know why they took you, or what kind of plot he's weaving. If we find him, we can make him explain everything. Make him... make him tell us what's going on."

Make him pay for Lavitz. The unspoken words rattled across the cells as Haschel noticed Dart's tightly-clenched fists. That swirl of emotion building inside him was going to break loose someday, and Haschel wasn't sure if he wanted to be around when it did.

"But first, we have to get out of here," said Haschel, rattling one of the bars. "Dart, you think you could melt through this?"

At this, Albert stood abruptly, blocking Dart's path to the cell door. "Please," he said, holding out his hands. "Do not try to flee. While I understand the desire - nay, the need - to chase Lloyd as soon as possible, we still have the more immediate concern of the fragile state of Serdio. Let me bring the pieces back together and begin to heal the wound before we leave for Tiberoa."

"Relax, Your Majesty," said Haschel, plopping down onto a cot. He didn't appreciate the loud groan it made in response. "It was just a thought." He glanced around as the king relaxed and noticed that there were two cots and only three men. "So who's taking the floor?" he asked.

"I should," said Dart.

"Nonsense," said Albert immediately. "You did at the inn. I will this time."

"I'm more used to sleeping on the ground."

Haschel sighed at the all-too-familiar exchange. Something similar had taken place two nights ago.

"Then we can rotate the responsibility," said Albert proudly.

Haschel gaped. "Just how long are you planning on staying?"

"It would be impossible to tell how long it could take to negotiate a peace and implement whatever policies may be necessary while I am present in Kazas."

"Great," scoffed Haschel before running an exhausted hand over his face. He ignored Shana's chuckles; she wouldn't be the one sleeping on hard stones.

"Now this is what I was really hoping for when I joined up with a king," said Haschel, feeling the plush mattress beneath him and stroking the soft pillow under his arm. Lazily, he reached over and snagged another grape from the metal tray near his bed, popping it into his mouth and spitting the seed onto the floor.

"You don't think they'll get mad at you for that?" asked Dart as he crammed his freshly laundered clothes into his pack on the other side of the room.

"So what if they do? We're leaving in three days anyway."

"Yeah, but I still want to be able to wander southern Serdio as a free man one day."

"They won't arrest me over a few seeds on their floor. You know how easy it is to sweep these things up?" Haschel grabbed another grape and tried to spit the seed to the other end of the bed, raising his fist in triumph as it cascaded past the maroon comforter onto the floor.

Dart laughed and shook his head. "A lot harder when you scatter them like that."

For six full days, they'd been forced to sleep on those accursed cots every night while King Albert tried to talk their way out of losing their heads. Two of those nights, Haschel had spent on the floor, only slightly comforted by the linens the guards had brought them, then used as meager padding on the hard stone. They'd been treated kindly enough, given fresh water and decent meals every day, but a cell was not the ideal place to spend every waking hour. It had not been long before Haschel found himself pacing to and fro, wishing for more than ten feet of distance to move across. To make matters worse, his dragoon spirit had quickly decided that it wanted to torment him until he would use it, but everyone was too afraid of what might happen should a great burst of electricity go out in such a confined space. The battle with Doel was still too fresh on their minds.

Finally, King Albert and the commander, who had inherited Doel's command, had come to an agreement: the Forgive-and-Forget Treaty. Or at least, that's what Haschel called it. The king had been right - both sides had committed treason of a sort - and the two decided that it would be best for all if they each just forgave the other. King Albert would expunge all guilt from the Sandoran people and their secession from Serdio, which had been considered treason. In return, the commander would do the same for the murderous dragoons who had lied and subverted their way into the castle. It was quite the political patch-up, but Haschel was not one to complain when his life was on the line.

Once the deal was struck, the commander had given them three luxurious rooms in the Black Castle, eerie as it was, and had ordered the servants to treat them as honored guests. In general, there was a great hush about what had happened with the emperor, but the darting eyes and suspicious glances had made it clear that their group was clearly suspect. In an effort to quell the rumors, the commander had bribed the guards that had seen Doel's body to keep quiet, and he'd let out an official statement that the emperor had died in a tragic accident, and that the commander had released the king for peace talks soon after. He'd also made it clear that he'd sent word to withdraw all the troops from Bale. Haschel had never seen the king quite so happy as when he received that particular bit of news.

As soon as they'd moved into the castle proper, their things had been fetched from the inn in Kazas and brought to them, their clothes laundered while they were given fresher, more proper attire. They were all "greatly encouraged" to wear the more stately garb, and Albert and Shana obliged well. Dart had begrudgingly agreed, but Haschel and Rose had already received several sideways remarks as they'd continued to wear their own clothing. Rose had that strange familial attachment to her armor, and Haschel just couldn't quite bring himself to leave behind the symbol of the Rouge School that decorated the back of almost all his vestments. It felt like a little piece of home that he didn't actually have to carry.

Now, Haschel lay splayed on the grand bed, big enough for four grown men to sleep side by side, surrounded by a soft robe, his beard properly shaved for the first time in weeks, his mustache groomed to perfection, munching on delicious grapes. They were such a delicacy in Serdio, preferring more hot and arid climates found farther west, and he thought he might die from the sweet pop of juice in his mouth as he munched down on another, and then another and another, spitting the seeds as far as he could, trying to beat his old records.

As Dart finished packing and repacking all his goods and supplies, his damp hair starting to stick out at ridiculous angles as he no doubt heated it through, he sat down heavily in a chair, crossing his arms and bouncing his leg.

"Nervous?" asked Haschel.

"No."

"You're something. I can hear your anxious fingernails from here."

Immediately, Dart stopped drumming his fingers against his arm and turned to look at Haschel. "I just don't like sitting still this long. Our work here is done. We should be moving."

"But it's so comfortable here. Why would you ever want to leave?"

"Don't get too used to it. We'll be back on the road soon enough."

"To Indels Castle, where we'll only be met with more luxury."

Dart chuckled. "We won't be spending that much time in castles from now on. Besides, I don't think Albert spends this much money on frivolous amenities."

"'Frivolous amenities'? Just how much time have you been spending with our king?"

Dart shook his head. "Too much."

This time it was Haschel's turn to laugh. "Then you should enjoy them while you have them, boy. Get yourself one of these plush robes, order a steak dinner, and relax. There's nothing you can do, so you might as well enjoy yourself."

"I don't like the feeling of having nothing that I can do."

Fighting an aggravated sigh, Haschel sat up and eyed Dart. He was fidgeting with the edge of his tunic, folding it and releasing it, a frustrated expression on his face. For just a moment, Haschel was struck by the image; it was the exact mannerism that he'd seen Claire emulate on multiple occasions. Gods, I miss her, he thought to himself.

"Listen, I know what it's like to feel helpless," he began as Dart turned his blue eyes up at him. "Wanting so badly to chase after something, but being held in one place." In his mind, he saw the glistening tears in her eyes, heard his own harsh tone. He'd always cringed from those memories, but now, it seemed that they were needed. "When... when my daughter left, I didn't go after her at first. I thought that whatever happened was how it should be, and that she made her own choices. But once I realized my own part in it, it was like I couldn't leave fast enough. But I was tied to Rouge by my wife. I must admit, those were several frustrating and selfish years for me. Sitting around, wanting to leave, staring out at the ocean just imagining what she was doing on the other side. But I couldn't." Dart turned his eyes back to his tunic. "I know your situation is different, but the point I'm trying to make is... we'll leave eventually, and we'll find him. We're all in on this."

"But you never found her, did you?"

Haschel flinched; the truth never seemed to get any easier to hear. "No, but this time Lloyd only has a few weeks head start, instead of five years." Reaching over, Haschel plucked off another grape and hurled it at Dart's head, grinning at his jump when it smacked into his nose. "Now eat a grape and relax!"

Chuckling, Dart reached down and retrieved the fruit before popping it into his mouth.

"Ugh," he coughed out, his face contorting.

"Sour one?" laughed Haschel.

"Yes," Dart struggled to say before spitting the seed onto the floor.

"You know they'll get mad at you for that."

"They're easy enough to sweep up. Toss me another."

The next morning, in an effort to add some variety to his life, Haschel traipsed about the Black Castle, eager to uncover any hidden secrets that Doel may have stowed away in some dark corner. With their departure approaching so rapidly, there was only so much sneaking around that he'd be able to get in. Ignoring the sideways glances from every person on the staff that passed by him, he wound his way through halls and corridors, admiring the intricate and quite expensive decorations and wondering how many things he could manage to hide in his shirt. Sadly, his conscience got the better of him, and he limited himself to a few covetous caresses whenever he saw a particularly pretty item. It went decently well until he tried it on a girl from the kitchens who'd given him what he'd thought was a flirtatious smile. I should really stick to my strengths of conversational wooing, he told himself as he worked his bruised jaw.

Just as he was about to consider heading back to his room for some hand-delivered lunch, he rounded a corner and found his mark. He'd found his way down near the dungeons, and at the end of the long hallway stood a heavy black door emblazoned with the words "NO ENTRY." With a grateful smirk, Haschel glanced around him and approached the door cautiously, extending his hand toward the doorknob.

"Haschel!" came a furious whisper from behind him. He jumped and spun around to see Dart at the nearest corner. "What are you doing?"

"Snooping around," Haschel replied simply. "Care to join me?"

Carefully, Dart took several steps down the hallway. "That wouldn't be smart..."

"And what are they going to do?" scoffed Haschel. "This is the grape seed thing all over again."

"I don't know... Hang us?"

"They are not going to hang us."

"How are you so sure? Everyone here hates us."

Rolling his eyes dramatically, Haschel turned and reached for the door once more. "Come or don't, but I want to know what Doel's been up to." He turned the doorknob and pushed against the door, only to find that it wouldn't budge. He swore. "Just my luck," he muttered.

Taking a step back, Haschel took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Relaxing his muscles, he willed his mind into a supreme calm, which was then interrupted by the buffoon standing behind him.

"What are you doing?" asked Dart skeptically.

"Shut up and I might show you," muttered Haschel through clenched teeth.

"What does that-"

"Dart."

"Fine."

Casting aside his irritation, Haschel focused once more, pouring his psyche and his heart into his left hand. He evened his breathing, inhaled as he drew back his arm, and exhaled sharply as he jabbed forward.

"Ha!"

His bare fist struck the door just above the doorknob, and a satisfying crash sounded out as the door blew open, the twisted remains of an iron deadbolt jutting out from the doorframe.

"Oops. That was louder than I wanted it to be."

"How did you do that?" exclaimed Dart, rushing forward to examine Haschel's handiwork.

"When you have your mind in the right place, anything is possible, Dart," said Haschel as he clapped Dart on the back and strode through the doorway. For a moment, he wasn't sure that Dart would follow, but a few seconds later he heard a sigh and Dart's footsteps pattering on the stone floor as he ran forward.

"I knew you couldn't resist a good old-fashioned adventure," smirked Haschel.

"I'm just here to make sure you don't get yourself killed," muttered Dart in response.

"Yeah, yeah... What are you doing down here anyway? Were you following me?"

Dart shrugged. "I was looking for you and I got lucky. I was bored and wanted some company."

"Well," said Haschel as they came to the end of the hallway. "Looks like I have just the thing to entertain you."

Before them was a doorway leading to a tiny room barely able to fit more than six people at once. Exposed just to the right of the doorway were several tubes filled with some kind of purple fluid rushing up and into the small room.

"What is this?" asked Dart.

As he approached the doorway, Haschel sensed something within the tubes, some kind of strange power that resonated within him. Suddenly, he was acutely aware of the dragoon spirit in his pocket, and his hand drifted out to touch the fluid. Beneath his fingers, he felt the charge of electric power, somehow an extension of himself, pulsing by. A purple spark leapt from his outstretched hand to the fluid, and he jumped back.

"Haschel?"

"It's, uh..." Haschel stammered. "It's somehow related to the dragoon spirit."

"What do you mean?"

Reaching his hand in his pocket, Haschel withdrew the violet dragoon spirit and was only mildly surprised when it glowed brightly in his hand. Slowly, he moved it toward the wall, eliciting a similar glow from the fluid.

"They're connected," he muttered before shoving it back in his pocket. "It's the same power, just... harnessed differently."

"How is that possible?" asked Dart. "Are you saying that Doel somehow managed to liquefy the power of a dragoon spirit?"

"Let's find out," said Haschel, charging into the tiny room, Dart following closely behind him.

Turning, he spied two round buttons on the wall and reached out to push the one on top. When nothing happened, he pressed the one on bottom, and a grinding noise rang out above them. With a lurch, the tiny room began to fall, and they fell back against the wall as they watched the hallway rise above them until it disappeared behind a wall of rock. All around him, Haschel felt currents of electricity come to life, living and breathing just out of view. The charges pulsed up and down the shaft, running at least sixty feet below them before shooting straight back up, running on a circuit.

"Ow!" exclaimed Dart, jumping and rubbing his left forearm.

"What?" asked Haschel, bewildered as he tried to understand the phenomenon taking place around them.

"You shocked me!"

Glancing down, Haschel saw purple sparks rolling across his hands, leaping into the walls. Muttering an apology, he focused his mind until he pinpointed the source of the energy and stilled it.

"You're going to be a hazard, aren't you?" said Dart sourly.

"If you all would just let me practice, I might be able to get this under control. Besides, I'm currently more concerned with the terrifying death trap in which we now find ourselves."

As Dart opened his mouth to answer, another doorway slowly became visible, rising from the floor until it was level before them. And beyond it stood seven men in white robes, each of their heads turning to greet the newcomers.

"Who are you?" barked a man on the right side of the room. His eyes were crazed and angry, and he held a glass filled with the familiar purple fluid. In fact, Haschel now noticed, every one of these robed men stood before tables covered with bottles and glasses, each filled with the same electric substance.

Dart froze, but Haschel stepped forward and announced, "We've been sent by the commander for an update on your progress. Please show us around promptly."

"We had a progress update only yesterday," protested a man near the doorway. "We only have them once a week."

"Today's, uh... different," said Haschel. "With all the uproar about the emperor, we want to make sure everything is still running smoothly down here."

"Well!" huffed the first scientist. "I've never seen you before. How do we know you're telling the truth?"

"Oh, shut it, Magi," barked a third scientist on the far side of the room. He approached with an apologetic smile, casting an angry glance toward Magi on the way. "My apologies, sirs. Emperor Doel was always so secretive of our work, but the Great Commander has given us no such edict. I would be happy to show you around."

"Excellent!" smiled Haschel. "We would be intrigued to see everything."

"Very well. Right this way." The man turned, and Dart and Haschel followed him around the room as he spoke. "My name is Dr. Tam, and these are all the purple scientists, as we like to call ourselves. We specialize in the power of the thunder dragon, and spend our time researching possible ways to harness this power and use it to better the living situations of those in Kazas."

As they approached a table covered with bottles of varying shades of purple fluid, Haschel reached out and picked one up, ignoring the jolt that ran through his hand when he did. Swirling the fluid, he watched as it clung to the sides of the bottle like oil.

"Is this what powers the lights?" asked Dart, shooting the substance disdainful looks.

"Yes, and another variation of that fluid powers the lift that carried you down here," said the doctor.

"Impressive," muttered Haschel as he set down the bottle. As intriguing as all this was, he could not help but feel that something dark was at work here. An unsettling feeling had taken hold in his stomach and was now plaguing him with a fear that he didn't quite understand. "How do you make this fluid?"

"It is distilled directly from the original specimen," replied Dr. Tam. "It took us several years to figure out how to do it, too. It was only about six years ago that we were able to isolate this substance, and another two years before it was able to be used for lighting and other things."

"Original specimen?" Haschel muttered to Dart as Dr. Tam turned away.

Dart merely shrugged, and Haschel frowned as he followed the scientist into the next room, almost identical to the first except for the color of the liquid: a vibrant green.

"Something's wrong," whispered Haschel.

"These are the green scientists!" said the doctor a little too cheerfully. "The work on this side has gone much faster since we already knew so much by the time we got this dragon's body."

"Dragon's body?" blurted Dart in confusion. "This has to do with the dragon?"

"Oh, of course," replied Dr. Tam. "I guess I thought you knew. All our research is based on the dragons."

"But there was just one dragon."

"Ah yes, only one that the public knew about," nodded Dr. Tam. He exclaimed suddenly as they reached a table with several metal bowls, each of them filled with a green flame, and Dart took a step back, grimacing. "This is one of our proudest achievements. This fire cannot be extinguished except with this fluid." He grabbed a vial of green liquid and swirled it before them. "Even water cannot hope to put it out."

"Why would you make this?" asked Dart with an irritated voice.

"The emperor's ultimate goal for all this was that it be used in war," said the doctor matter-of-factly. "This would have been one of the most useful inventions for that cause, although the Great Commander does not seem to share that passion."

"What is all this about dragons?" interrupted Haschel.

"Ah! Yes. Right this way."

The doctor turned, and Haschel and Dart followed him through another doorway opening into a room so large that it put even Doel's throne room to shame. Craning his neck, Haschel struggled to see the dark ceiling at least hundred feet above him, but a second later, his eyes snapped to his left, where a shaft of light illuminated something that made his stomach sink.

"Feyrbrand?" said Dart in horror. Haschel clenched his jaw and Dart's mouth fell open as they took in the huge, lumbering corpse of the jade dragon, lifted up onto a platform several feet tall. Although Haschel had never seen the beast before, he easily recognized it from Dart's descriptions. The scales gleamed yellow-green in the overhead light, though many of them were charred black - no doubt Dart's handiwork - or missing altogether. Near the base of Feyrbrand's skull, dark red stains cascaded down toward the ground. Most horrific, however, were the dozens of tubes that had been inserted along the length of the dragon's body. Feyrbrand had been a slave of evil in life, and he remained a slave in death.

"Yes, isn't it magnificent?" said Dr. Tam, clearly oblivious to the true nature of their reactions. "We managed to recover it from the dragon's nest in the mountains several weeks ago and bring it here. It's amazing what we've managed in so short a time. But the real prize is this fellow over here." He gestured to the right.

On the other side of the room was a similar platform, but on it lay a beast colored a deep purple. Something struck Haschel in the chest when he saw it, and he felt an unfamiliar wave of pain radiate from his heart, stretching into his fingers until tiny sparks ran out from them. Although it lay in the same position as Feyrbrand, this violet dragon had been very nearly stripped clean of its scales, magically preserved muscle exposed on every surface, hollow eyes staring blankly at the wall before it. Many more ducts pierced this dragon, making it nearly impossible to make out the shape of its body.

That sinking feeling swirled deeper within Haschel as he realized what Doel had sacrificed to obtain his power. For the first time in twenty years, he felt that he might cry. He silently cursed the dragoon spirit glowing quietly in his pocket.

I thought that thing was supposed to make me stronger, he thought to himself.

Slowly, Haschel approached the dragon's body, forcing his trembling hands to steady themselves as he tightened them into fists. Power pulsed from the dragoon spirit in nearly uncontrollable bursts, but he took deep breaths and calmed his mind to contain it. Nearing the dragon, he slowly reached out his hand, still visibly shaking, and touched the corpse.

Instantly, a flash of electrical energy flowed between his palm and the dragon's skin. He closed his eyes and let the power flow through his entire body, allowing him to sense every facet of the beast, every wound, every missing scale. It was almost as if the dragon were an extension of his own body. Deep within its chest, he could feel the dead heart, and the lungs that no longer drew breath. Taking a sharp breath, he wrenched his hand away as his eyes flew open and the strange sensation passed. Dart's voice came into focus as Haschel continued to gaze at the dragon.

"...find it?" Dart was asking.

"Nobody is quite sure," said the doctor. "They say that the emperor found it a decade ago, wandering in the wilds of southern Serdio. But we don't-"

"How did it die?" asked Haschel, eyes flashing as he turned to face Dr. Tam.

A puzzled expression came over the doctor, but he merely said, "We killed it. Just as we were commanded."

"He told you to do this?" Haschel's voice was rising with his anger.

"Yes, but... I assure you, it was a very quick and painless death."

"Why kill it at all?"

"For research purposes, of course."

"Hang on," inserted Dart. "You had a live dragon, and rather than use it for the war, Doel decided to just kill it for research?"

"He was convinced that it would be of greater use to him this way."

"'Greater use'?" scorned Haschel. "You had a beast of legend, probably now extinct, and you just... killed it?" Another pulse shot out from the dragoon spirit, and Haschel lunged forward and grabbed the doctor by his collar, holding his face menacingly close. Sparks flitted across his white knuckles. "You disgust me," he whispered with all the intimidation he could muster.

"Haschel!" Dart called, rushing forward to intervene if necessary.

"Stay out of this, Dart."

Glancing down at Haschel's fist, Dr. Tam took on a fearful expression and muttered, "You inherited the violet dragoon spirit."

"What does that have to do with ANYTHING?" shouted Haschel, supremely pleased when Dr. Tam flinched in response.

"Haschel, calm down," pleaded Dart.

"So it's true. You killed the emperor," said the doctor.

"Haschel didn't kill anybody."

"He deserved it for what he did to that creature," growled Haschel.

Clearly affronted, Dr. Tam sputtered for a moment before saying, "Emperor Doel was a good ruler who had our best interests in mind. All he did was for the people, including the death of the dragon."

"Liar! All he wanted was power! It wasn't enough that he had a dragoon spirit. He had to go and kill a dragon, too!" Lightning was now dancing around Haschel, threatening to strike through Dr. Tam at any moment.

"Haschel," said Dart, his voice a deep authoritative sound as he placed a firm hand on Haschel's shoulder.

Instinctively, Haschel let a spark leap into Dart's hand, and he flinched, but did not pull away. Then in a rush of reason, Haschel realized what he was doing. This scientist, misled as he might have been, was not the one truly at fault here. Slowly, he released his grip on the man's coat and took several steps back, calling on his strength of will to calm his heart and the dragoon spirit still buzzing in his pocket. He mentally cursed that purple gem and fought the instinct to hurl it across the room, or better yet, at Dr. Tam's head.

"Let's go," he muttered before making a beeline for the doorway. He hated this place and everything it stood for. He hated that purple gem in his pocket for making him lose control. And he hated that he had been dragged into this mess against his will.

As they marched through the room full of flasks of purple fluid, Haschel reached out with his mind and took hold of each ounce of the substance, sending a jolt through all of it. All around them, electric currents exploded the flasks, and all the scientists gasped and exclaimed as their work was sent splattering to the floor. Without turning back, Haschel stepped into the lift and pressed the top button as soon as Dart was clear of the entrance.

Haschel ignored Dart's furtive glances on the ride up and the walk back to their room. Flashes of memory haunted him, and try as he might, he could not get them to stop. You should know by now, he scolded himself. Losing control only causes problems. Look what you lost last time.

Approaching the door, Haschel muttered a poor excuse to Dart and walked straight past, leaving the poor boy confused as he stared after him. But Haschel only had one thing on his mind, and within a few minutes, he was standing nervously outside what he seriously hoped was Rose's room. Steeling himself in case the Great Commander greeted him, he raised his hand and rapped on the heavy wooden door.

A second later, footsteps sounded from within and the door creaked open, revealing Rose looking cynical as ever. On seeing Haschel, her eyes narrowed, and he waved innocently.

"Hi," he said.

She closed the door.

Sighing, he called out, "Rose, I'm not here for that! I just want to talk to you about something. I promise!"

The door slowly swung open once more, and Rose muttered, "Fine," before stepping aside. With an awkward grin, Haschel walked into the room, almost a mirror image of his own.

"Shana gone?" he said aimlessly.

Rose shrugged. "Out walking, I think."

He sat down at the desk, hoping the awkwardness wouldn't kill him.

"You really do mean business," she observed as she came to rest on the bed, crossing her fine, slender legs.

"Yeah, I, uh..." he began. "I just had a strange experience, and I was hoping you could help me."

"What happened?"

He gave a heavy sigh before explaining his discovery and the events that had unfolded beneath the castle. Rose seemed particularly affronted to hear of the violet dragon, though she said nothing and returned to her stony-faced self as Haschel moved on to recount his dramatic outburst. When he was finished, he looked down at his hands.

"So what is it that you want from me?" she asked flatly.

Swallowing a crude response, Haschel paused and said, "I have been training, not just my body, but my mind, for decades. Probably twice as long as you've even been alive." She quirked an eyebrow. "I have mastered the art of honing the mind into its own sort of weapon, because the fist is limited by the mind. The best warriors have been able to create a harmony between the two, quelling interfering emotions. I have been practicing this all my life. And yet, I lost control. I thought that my days of anger were behind me, but I just saw them resurface before my very eyes. And it's..." He reached in his pocket and withdrew the dragoon spirit. "It's because of this accursed thing. It was angry about the dragon. Not me. It made me do that. And... I don't want it anymore."

"You are always in control of your own actions. Don't go blaming an inanimate object."

"You and I both know that this thing is more than just a rock."

Rose sighed. "The dragoon spirit is meant to bring out those emotions in us that make us stronger warriors. When used in the right way, anger can accomplish that. It amplifies war-related emotions and stymies the rest. You will find, once you transform, that fear and pain will be much harder to find. What you experienced was the dragoon spirit fighting to protect its own kind. You forget that dragoon spirits came from the dragons; they are inextricably linked together. That connection is what brought out your anger."

"But I wasn't angry about anything until this thing made me feel it."

"I didn't say your anger about the dragon. I only said that it brought out your anger."

Haschel shook his head slightly. "So what are you saying?"

"You have an anger within you that's fighting to get out. All your dragoon spirit did was use that anger to defend its own kind. It is up to you whether you allow it to take hold of your emotions like that."

The realization struck Haschel. He understood what he had to do: something that he'd been putting off for twenty-five years. He just wasn't sure if he would be able to do it. Shana had unwittingly gotten to the heart of the matter only a couple days ago, and those words had rung in his mind ever since. Had he forgiven himself for what happened? Of course not.

"What if I don't even want to be a dragoon?" he asked, even though he was fairly sure that he knew the answer.

"You have an obligation to accept your fate as a dragoon," replied Rose. "Dragoon spirits manipulate fate, and that one chose you for a reason."

"Probably because I was the only one in the room who didn't already have one," he muttered.

"No," said Rose emphatically. "Fate brought you to that room so that you might take charge of Doel's dragoon spirit. It was not an accident that we ran into you in Lohan."

"Okay, then, what's my purpose? Why am I a dragoon?"

"That I can't say. But it would seem that fate has need of us all."

Haschel sighed and put his face in his hands. He knew that she was right, but that didn't mean he had to like it. Still, he guessed that travelling some more with Dart and Shana wouldn't be so bad. And he'd be able to admire Rose the whole way. Maybe, after a while, he could even get used to Albert. The group really did need some humor every once in a while, he admitted to himself.

Standing, he said, "Thanks, Rose. I feel a little better now. See you tomorrow when we give high honor to the world's most ruthless dictator."

Rose nodded, and Haschel left, pulling the door closed behind him and heaving a sigh. Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew the gem once more and ran his thumb over its purple surface.

"I guess we're stuck with each other," he said.

Author Note: First chapter down, several more to go. Once again, please be patient with me as I work on these. They're mostly written, but I have stuff to add and far too little time to do what I want when I want. But, I won't forget about this story! I will work it to its end eventually.

Let me know how I'm doing so far with this in-between stuff, and also drop a review for something specific you might want to see during this transition time. If it doesn't contradict what I already have planned, I may just find some room for it somewhere!

Thanks again to everyone who's been reading and enjoying this story. I can't believe I've gotten such positive feedback so far. It's absolutely beyond anything I ever expected.