Note: References to both Heroes of Mana, events after and before that, and Secret of Mana will be in this chapter.

I'll need to work on an outline for the next set of chapters, so there may be a bit of a more extended waiting period, as I need to watch and study game footage, go over what I want to cover, and meld them together. This is a combination of all six of the heroes' stories.

The Aurora Sisters' attire is a bit more scandalous than canon, as the Night Market isn't exactly known as a wholesome place.

Also, how the beastmen captured the heroes and other items will be changed as falling from significant heights and whatnot has more severe consequences here. This is, at heart, a fantasy story. Still, given what I have planned later and general physics and laws of gravity and momentum and kinetic energy, I'd say that falling from a great height, without some magic to keep you from crushing every bone in your body, is fatal.

Something involving one of the Mana Stones might be slightly different than canon, but we'll just have to see.

Also, I've been watching a lot of Dissidia lately, and I think I'm beginning to liken certain villains to those here. Granted, they won't be carbon copies, but I think that perhaps some pointers taken would help me.

Dark Operations

The night was still and quiet, with no sound of chirping crickets or croaking frogs. Not even the regular inhabitants such as Rabites or Molebears came out from their dwellings. But, though it was night, sleep was not the only motivator in keeping them in their burrows.

His reddened cloak was caught on the breeze of the night wind, his golden hair dancing at a slow, steady pace with it, his violet eyes overlooking the dry, barren land before him. His brows furrowed in frustration. Just where WAS it?


Dragons Maw

"You were expected some time ago." the shadowed figure said, clearly displeased. "Surely an invasion can't take that long to prepare."

"The Queen wishes for no detail to be left out," Koren answered. "And let's just say, the woman is quite peculiar and particular of details."

The shadowed figure merely huffed at that. Strange that he could somewhat relate to a human of all things, even if the woman were (technically) the head of a country. It was even odder that he would be comparing herself to 'her' of all people now. It wasn't as if that woman was formidable: take away her magic, and she was no more helpless than Gauser. Yet even still, he remembered well the dozens taken out by her magic when news of her country's QueenQueen dying hit her. That woman put up a fight too, yet she eventually fell. Why didn't her daughter? Why didn't any of those humans before that dare come against Pedda, in turn, against him? And how could that damned Prince and his arrogant, haughty company render him to the state he was now?

Ultimately, it mattered not. The Princess (now Queen) was being led like a sheep. And according to one of his 'dear' allies, the sorcerer was planning a trip to visit the dear Prince. Again, the title mattered not; Richard would always be the 'little pathetic Prince' in his eyes. Though one question remained. "Where is the Mana Stone?"

It was then that Koren averted his gaze. "That...has yet to be discovered."

"Yet to be discovered." the figure repeated. "You've already had an extended visit there, and all you can say is that it's 'yet to be discovered?" his hands clenched the sides of his "throne," sharpened nails tearing at the rock. "You do realize what you're sounding like, don't you?"

"My Lord, I intend to-"

"You sound like a weak little boy, Koren." The red magician froze at that, a wave of emotions assaulting him. A portion of him was enraged at hearing such a title be bestowed on him, yet there was a familiarity, as it wasn't new to him. A chill ran through him; he found it difficult to look into his Lord's eyes, golden with ruby red, dark irises that bore a reptilian look. Yet with that, above all, there was stabbing helplessness that he tried to suppress, along with everything else, but still, it refused to be put away. "Is that what you are, Koren? A boy? A weak, pathetic boy?" he then hissed. "An...inept, talentless boy?" Koren was silent for a good while, the inner sanctum of the cavern deathly quiet. "Well? Tell me." the figure gestured to the only other presence in the room, the dark knight only being noticed because he was pointed out. "Well?"

Koren lowered his head. "...no. No, I am not, my Lord." He clenched his fist. "I am no such thing." he firmly said.

The figure seemed unimpressed. Still, he humored the mortal. "I would hope not, seeing as me extending my hand would've been worthless otherwise." well, if one could call it humor. "Regardless, I can't afford to wait on you simply, performance being at its peak or not." he then turned to the knight. "Go back and continue your search and invasion," he ordered the magician. "My old friend and I have some things to discuss."

Koren turned and made his exit, the figure's words still echoing in his head. "Boy...weak little boy…."

Once the Crimson Wizard was gone, the figure directed his reptilian gaze upon the knight. "It seems Koren ran into that boy." he began. "He should be...what, around seventeen now?" the knight remained silent, yet the figure could feel the vibrations in his energy, his soul. He smiled. "Very courageous lad, he said. Kept up the fight despite the ever-looming threat of death." then, the armor began shaking, as if the form inside it was trembling. "I was disappointed at first that he hadn't been executed, but then again, if he's anything like you, he won't go down that easy. Who knows? Perhaps one day, he'll come here, and then we all can become better acquainted with each other-" the figure got out no more as an armor-clad hand seized him by the throat, lifting him from the throne and holding him high. The dark knight held the figure up, grip deathly tight. With the other, the dark blade was drawn out. And despite this all, the figure displayed no fear. His eyes bore no traces of alarm or concern. Daresay, he looked somewhat satisfied. "Getting bolder, are we?" he smirked. "Well? What are you waiting for? You drew your blade and everything. It'd be rather anticlimactic if you were to do nothing with it." the knight remained in his position, still as stone. "Just as I thought.''

Despite the cave's near weightlessness, the figure's features transformed and grew far more reptilian. His mouth opening to a width impossible for any man, a large blast of what appeared to be black fire struck the knight, causing him to be hurled across the room and smash right into the cave wall, leaving a rather massive imprint there. The figure rose from his position and straightened himself out. "Yet again, we have to go over this lesson. And it's when I think you've gotten past this." the being walked to the knight on his hands and knees and roughly took him by the violet crest of his black helmet. "You have no will outside of my own. You do as I say; you KILL who I say." the being then smirked. "If Koren cannot deal with that boy, then perhaps I shall have an especially special errand for you." the knight lifted his head, ghostly, purple eyes widening. Though emotion was near unreadable due to his concealed face, those eyes seemed, in that moment, unsettlingly human, a primal sense of terror echoing in them. "But," the figure released the knight. "Unfortunately, there is an assignment that holds precedent over that fantasy." he then sat back on his 'throne'. "I need you to go to the Laurent Mountains," he commanded. "There is a shrine there dedicated to one of the Goddess' little lackeys." his lips tightened with anger. "And the stone can't be far behind where he may be." The knight stood still, resembling a shape forever frozen in place. Then, after some time, those damned, reptilian eyes bored into him, and he turned to take his leave. "Oh, and while you're there," the figure added, the knight stopping in his tracks. "Search the Celestial Peak. Search high." his eyes narrowed into tight slits. "Search for the egg."

"Lord Koren?" he was drawn from his musing by a voice; a young mage woman had approached him. "The Machine Golems are operational and ready for use."

Koren, in turn, nodded. "Good," he remarked. "They'll take down Valsena's security in no time."

"And sir?" the woman continued. "What of the Princess?"

"Just as I said before." the blonde wizard replied. "She is to be found but is to be found alive. She must face justice and be returned to Altena to be formally charged and her sentence given by the QueenQueen."

"And...that would be?"

Koren turned, eyes narrowing and growing dark, the mage shrinking back. "That is beyond your rank and title. Such matters concern you not, nor should you even try and insert yourself in them. Prepare the Golems and speak no more of this. Is that clear?"

"Y-Yes. Of course. Forgive me, my Lord." the mage wasted no time getting out of his presence, leaving the red-dressed wizard on his lonesome.

Weak little boy, he trembled as he recited his Lord's words in his mind. No. Never. he swore to himself before saying aloud, "Never, EVER again."


Kingdom of Valsena

Beiser

Beiser. The city of trade, of the greatest and rarest wares that one could find in the entire Kingdom of Valsena. No, of the world! Yet he was not here for that. Oh no. He was here on a different matter. He had told that short-sighted woman about an issue that shouldn't have been.

"What do you mean you just gave him away?!" he remembered Isabella shouting to the two ninjas under her thrall.

"Forgive us, please." one ninja, Bill, spoke.

"We didn't believe that the Majesty would have interest in him." the other, Ben, spoke.

"Well, you thought wrong!" she hollered at them, her eyes glaring both daggers and a furious gold at them. "You had a potential candidate in your hands, and what do you do with him? Put him up for sale, of course!" she threw up her arms and turned away before turning back to them. "He had BETTER still be there, or so help me, I shall give one of YOU to the stone when we find it!"

He had stood there, chuckling to himself the entire time. But, honestly, this was too rich. And not to mention, His Majesty would doubt be FURIOUS at her about this. But then, he remembered how she looked at him, having heard him find humor in her plight. And he didn't need to question how she'd pay him back. That, she claimed, would come later, but first, seeing as she had a meeting to attend with His Majesty, he would need to listen to the matter of retrieving the boy. A task he protested heavily against, yet she promised him something that, suffice to say, he couldn't refuse. Especially since it had been quite a bit since he last fed.

Making his way to the guarded entrance, two large, burly men stood in the way. "Five hundred lucre to get in, pal." one of them said. It was then that he could genuinely study who was before him, and suffice to say, he didn't look like anybody coming here. "Hey, pal, I think you're in the wrong place."

"Oh no, good gentlemen. I'm well aware of this place." he then looked upon them both with his red eyes. "And I'm short of pocket change at the moment."

"Pff! Haha!" the other man guffawed. "You're funny! I like you!" he then placed his large hand on the finely dressed figure's shoulders. "But piss off the wrong guy, and comments like that'll get you killed!" He lifted him in the air by his collar. "So beat, fancy pants! Or do you want an up-close and personal lesson about choosing your words carefully?"

The figure merely huffed. Simpletons, he thought. Shame that he couldn't just do them in here and now. Always, restraint was a skill he had to learn throughout his existence, yet still, it didn't make it any easier. "No, I am where I need to be," he stated, simply than making direct eye contact with the man that held him. "And I…" then, his eyes began to glow a shining red, the iris radiating and seemingly pulsing akin to a heart as both men found themselves terrified yet intrigued by what they saw. Then, finally, "...shall be let inside."

Dusting himself off, the pallid-skinned Malocchio straightened out his cape and gazed around at the expansive array of wares and goods and the other somewhat scandalous activities taking place beneath the hardworking, stingy, but otherwise wholesome city. Here, it seemed, was where said city came to express and work out its more carnal desires.

All around him, people were partaking in whatever pleased them; the room smelt of sweetness as toxic but intoxicating fumes radiated from the numerous incense pots sold. And from the expensive hookahs being smoked with just as expensive leaves and plants, creating a colorful haze that shrouded the area in a perpetual environment of pleasures. Pleasures that he would partake in, just not the ones that most here would understand.

From upon a platform danced four women garbed in light attire, most of their form presented and seemingly having only the most intimate parts of themselves covered. Adorning them were ornate jewelry of precious stones, strapless tops that covered their breasts just enough, the pattern on the cloth stripped, this extending to the slim thong they wore. Nevarlian attire, he thought, noting the darkened skin of the four women. They wore golden belts with identical gemstones and dangling pieces of gold, pointed slippers on their feet, their jewelry creating a rhythmic jingle as they danced. The sight of them immediately ensnared him. Their hair was golden and tied in flowing ponytails, a hair ornament atop their head to hold the ponytail in place; it was also adorned with gems.

He had to have them—at least once.

"Hey! Let me out of here!" a voice broke Malocchio's concentration, his red eyes drawn to the northern corner of the large, underground market, spotting a cage that housed a young, blonde boy dressed in rags. "I'm warning you! I'm a Prince!"

"Yeah, yeah. They all say they are someone important." the jailer, a stout man who looked rather well off and resembled a sultan, rolled his eyes. "Now, keep quiet!" he pushed the child back from behind bars. "You'll scare away any potential buyers!"

"Oh, please, give the child some patience." the man turned to see the pale, caped man. "He is so young after all." he looked at the boy, the boy immediately shrinking back from him. He gave him worse vibes than the man that currently imprisoned him.

"And you are?" the jailer questioned.

"As of now, a buyer of your wares," Malocchio answered, gesturing to the boy. "I would like to take this child for myself."

"Do you now?" The jailer looked at the boy. "Fine. But it'll cost you."

"Unfortunately, I am out of pocket change."

The jailer then turned back to the pale man. "What are you playing at? No money equals no slave, pal!"

"Perhaps you didn't hear," Malocchio drew closer, eyes glowing. "I'm out of pocket change."

The boy shrunk back, unaware of what he was doing, yet the man housing him in this cell was stiff and unmoving. Just what was going on? "S-Sure." the jailer suddenly said, opening the door. "He's all yours."

Later

"That's one-hundred lucre less than last week!" the dancer dressed in purple complained, each having counted the coins thrown in their direction during their performance.

"It's still enough, Elaine." the blonde woman dressed in green answered. "And it's more than last week."

The woman dressed in blue sighed. "It'll be enough to keep us afloat for a little while. But still, we need to step up our game."

"Hey, speak for yourself, Oriana." the red-dressed woman remarked. "I've been raking in big bucks."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, Marisol." Elaine rolled her eyes. "Maybe I should go on that Rabite diet everyone's been talking about."

"You mean just guzzling down carrots and lettuce?" Oriana questioned. "You know that all that's just some fad."

"Still, it's seemed to work for those that have tried it."

"Probably because they barely eat anything on that diet," Helen mentioned, hoisting the bag over her shoulder. "Anyway, we need to be getting this home."

"And getting into some warmer clothes," Oriana mentioned, shivering. Unfortunately, even if it paid well, their line of work didn't allow for much protection from the night winds.

All four of them began to make their way towards the small home near the port, but then, Marisol felt a shiver travel up her back, not from the night wind. "Marisol?" Elaine called out; she and her other sisters were confused.

"Go on without me," she said. I...I'll be right there." she surveyed the quiet city around her, feeling very much like a lone Rabite about to be torn to shreds by whatever predator was watching her.

"Lost, my dear?" a silky smooth voice met her ears; her knees were nearly giving out from under her; she turned to see a pale-skinned, caped man before her. "You appear as if you could use a hand."

"Um…" her usual abrasiveness was seemingly subdued just by looking at him. Those eyes...they were beautiful. "I-I guess so. But…I need to be getting back home."

"Ah, I see," Malocchio said. "Well, shall I escort you there?"

"Oh, no, I-" Marisol was cut off, noticing who he indeed was. "Hey, you're the guy eyeing us in the market," she observed. "And...and you took that kid."

"Indeed." the kid was slumped against a wall a few houses down, sleeping due to the thrall of the being's power. "I took him from what would've been a life of hardship and slavery," he then caressed her cheek. "Just as I shall take you from your life of hardship. Permanently."


Dark Castle

"So, the child is taken care of?" their dear Majesty questioned.

"Yes, dearest," Isabella answered, leaning into his chest. "He's currently in the Nevarlian Fortress along with that old fool and his daughter."

The Majesty only nodded, seemingly indifferent to his proximity to him. "And you're certain that he will serve?"

"Indeed." the woman answered, gently running her nails down his upper stomach. "He is young and vibrant. Albeit a bit mouthy. Not to mention, a Prince-"

"Prince?" the Majesty shrouded in shadow had his interest piqued. "The boy is a royal?"

"Yes," Isabella confirmed. "And from what Bill and Ben have told me, the child has lived a carefree, comfortable life. Surrounded by those that cater to his whim, he has the protection of an entire army and subjects who dote and proclaim he is the pride of the kingdom." all these were completely unknown or an outright lie, yet still, the child must've had a relatively easy life. Again, she saw her Majesty's features contort and twist, clearly holding back tremendous anger.

"Where does he hail from?" he questioned through grit teeth.

"Laurent," Isabella answered. "He's one of the few males in the kingdom as well. So him receiving special treatment would only be natural, as men are a rarity among them."

Majesty needed to hear no more, the memories flooding his mind despite his attempts to keep them subdued. His golden eyes surveyed the interior of his throne room, a low, heavy sigh exiting from him. He remembered this place when it was pristine, pure white instead of the heavy shroud it was now covered in. He remembered when this place was beautiful. Where the world outside housed normal, pleasant humans that he was to care for once and tend to as their ruler. This glorious, beautiful place was to be his to watch for and see to it that he continued its glory amidst all kingdoms.

Ultimately, however, it wasn't meant to be. For those white walls and blossoming prosperity would only be seen by his eyes for a short time. Everything else was behind the enclosed cell walls, deep beneath the castle's beauty.

The thought of that young boy, living freely and going where he pleased, indeed being catered to and pampered, to have his every whim and desire tended to. It was then that the Majesty's mind was made up. "Keep him locked up tight," he commanded. "And keep him unharmed." he was about to leave but stopped. "Yet...should he step out of line...discipline him accordingly. He will live with a blow or two." with that, he went off, leaving Isabella and Malocchio alone.

"Well, that certainly got heavy." the vampiric man noticed, the woman with him nodding in agreement, though she was looking on with pity. "Ah, what's this?" he noted. "Are those tears?"

"N-No." Isabella denied it, wiping them away. "It's...it's just a little much to be reminded of at times."

"Indeed." the caped man agreed. "It says much that the inhabitants of Hell are far more preferable company than your fellow man." he then noticed Isabella shaking. "Shame that your sympathy will never be noticed."

She whirled to face him and delivered a stinging slap across his face, echoing throughout the once silent chamber. "You know nothing." she hissed, then made her leave.

Malocchio only smirked, the sting on his cheek meaning nothing to him. "That young desert Princess and you...you two could be excellent friends."

Mirage Palace

The Master wasn't too pleased upon hearing the news that the siege on Wendel had been a failure. As if getting here from under Ludgar's watchful eyes wasn't hard enough. Still, the trip hadn't entirely been worthless. "The Mana Stone of the Moon is right in their backyard," Goremand told his Master, pondering why, though he dared not say they didn't go for that one in the first place. And besides, how were they to know that the Priest would be that powerful? Of course, one could only gauge so much by just hearing. And after all, seeing is believing.

Nevertheless, regrettable as it was, there were other stones to get. And not to mention, after a spell like that, as the Master said, the old coot was probably on death's door by now. And when he croaked, the barrier would follow behind. Goremand huffed; he was bored. He only had time to say anything to the Master when he brought that pale-haired boy to the palace. But, honestly, what reason did he want him anyway? True, he was commanded to do so, yet he was also ordered not to be harmed. Pity, as the young man had such a lightful, strong soul. Ooooh, he got away indeed! Maybe he should've slew that small child before he went off with the priest.

Still, the Master had yet to say why the young man was so special, let alone wanted alive. And for now, that was for the Master and the Master alone to know.


"Who are you?!" he remembered the boy asking when he was first taken here. "Why am I here?!" He was, upon a stone platform, still and motionless, mind locked in perpetual sleep willed by its caster. Said caster stared down at his slumbering form, eyes wide behind his mask.

He remembered how the boy, despite the brave stance he kept up, shuddered from him as he approached. "That face…" he remembered muttering aloud. "It must be you. There's no other who could have that face." h

"Must be who?" the young man asked, clearly confused. First, this man's presumed servant threatened a young child with death, and now, he was, being spoken to as if he were someone beloved.

"It matters not. You're here now.'" he told him, the young man backing up before he took the youth in a tight embrace. "You've grown into such a beautiful soul."

"E-Excuse me?'" the young priest said, clearly confused. "I-I don't understand." But he got into a defensive stance. "Who are you?" he questioned firmly. "What do you want with me?"

"Nothing." Goremand's Master responded. "But with you by my side." his tone grew grimmer. "And the subsequent fall of Wendel..."

"Wendel?!" the young man was shocked. "For what reason would you want the downfall of the Holy City?!"

"Oh, trust me. That city is 'holy' in name only." he told him. "And His Eminence is nothing more than a man. A man that can be disposed of as any other."

"Don't you dare!'"the young man shouted, extending his hands and producing spheres of light. "I don't know who you are, yet it's clear that you have no good intentions for anyone!'" the spheres only increased in intensity. He didn't know if he could, but he would try. ''I'm putting a stop to your plans here and now!" he was cut off by a hand placing itself firmly on his forehead and lifted off the ground as if drawn by a powerful magnetism.

"I am sorry, but I'm not willing to lose you now that you're finally here.'" the Master answered, the young man struggling in his grasp. He then brought him to eye level. "I bid you a fair sleep, my boy." the young man worked, yet those eventually died down, his entire form going stiff and silent, his eyes shutting and breathing growing steady.


Now, here he lay, looking so peaceful. The jester's Master gently graced his cheek. He had kept the young man in a state of perpetual sleep, both to keep him docile and to allow the man to observe him better. By the Goddess, he was lovely. But, goddess...no. No, he offered no prayers to Her anymore. Soon, there would be no one that would. Then, all things would be as they should be as the world began. "And you, dear boy…" he held his head gently. "You and I will never be apart from each other again. For you and I…" he gently kissed his forehead. "We shall spread a new gospel to the world. A true gospel of peace." dark energy emitted from his palms, transmitting to the young man. "And you, dear boy," he said. "Shall be the head priest of this religion."

Note: I wanted to make all the villains at least somewhat distinctive from each other, even if they all sort of have the same goal of 'take over the world.' Even though I want to make them somewhat different from the other, as while each wants the Mana Sword, and their means to get it are slightly the same, I don't want them to be direct copies of each other. Again, sort of taking notes from some Final Fantasy villains.

That said, thank you to all my readers! The following few updates might be a bit slow, as I need to write an outline for the following few chapters and then plan out the next ones. Thank you!