Dark Age Legends

[Dude Man]

- Klawvorn -

"Repnis. It's good to see you again." Duilin greeted. "Now, as you probably already know, we're going to be going on a mission tomorrow to attack a Kandarinian Base. I thought I'd just get to know you a little better, that's just the way I am. Plus I'd just like to know your past experience and such. Just give me a brief history on your military carrier and such."

---

Valos entered his room. It was nothing fancy, just a simple guest room with a bed, a desk with a drawer next to it and a wardrobe.

"Nicer then the last few places I've slept." Valos commented.

He sat down on the bed and took off his boots and kicked them off next to the door and laid down. This was a good day, things are falling into place. Soon, he'll get his revenge on the Talonscar and then he'll be able to settle the score with his brother when he shows he's stronger than him. If Valos can kill Nex then Duilin will be no problem.

But should he turn against Duilin?

Yes of course he should, Duilin and his friends have been haunting him ever since they set foot on the Crimson Palace all those years ago. It was their fault all those bad things happened to him, really.

Well enough crazy thoughts, time for some sleep.

//Chapter ends tomorrow.\

[Jenia]

~Phoenicia Forest~

"It appears this little rat doesn't understand the position it's in..."

Indher laughed softly at the child's futile attempts to strike the barrier.

"Very well. I came prepared. I picked up something on the way..."

She took out a small, round and pitch-black onyx.

"It has never been tested. But I assume the process of being sucked inside is... Painful."

"Wait!" Elphos stopped her "Why don't you employ the spheroid capturing device left by two demons?"

"You mean, the one made of two hemispheres, one white, one red?"

"Yes, that one!"

"I'd have to modify it into a master capturing device first. Until then, these black onyxs will do."

She outstretched the hand holding the black onyx, and black fog began to surround it, slowly expanding around it.

"...Go."

The black fog moves into the barrier, surrounding the child-like demon, and began to close in on him.

"...Soon, everything will turn black for you. Farewell, child..."

[Mikado]

~~ Klawvorn ~~

"Yes, sir, Yes!" Repins awnsered.
So the powerful high general chose him? He felt very proud.

"Once I entered the military I was placed in the frontal warroirs sir. However they said I was a good for nothing, and the sword was too heavy for me, while a knife too small. I was a below avarage soldier, when I was sent on my first mission. A few riots were going on in the north, and we had to defeat a small group of rebels to silence it. I was only sent because my commander felt bad for me, me not doing anything. I was placed in the back, I didn't need to do anything dangerous, sir."

"But something went wrong, and we were attacked from behind. It was a horror sir. Dead everywhere. It was a Kand's trap! I moved more forward only to meet my comrades as zombies. We had only one fourth of our army left, and no way out. I took a small bow and I decided to kill the necromancer, for then the army would fall. I shot and succeeded. The necromancer fell, and the army too. I was seen as a hero, and it was only a matter of time before I arrived in the assasins team. I've assasined not only high ranked soldiers, but caused whole cities to fall. Not with sheer power, but just with my tactics, sir."

"This is all sir!"

[Dude Man]

- Klawvorn -

"Alright, alright. Sounds good." Duilin nodded. "It'll be a pleasure doing this mission with you. We're gonna be heading out tomorrow morning so get some good sleep, soldier."

After Repins left, Duilin sat down on one of the chairs and looked out the window. He hoped he could get some sleep, there was a lot on his mind. After several minutes of just sitting there thinking he got up and walked through the hallways whistling some random tune.

He was hoping he'd find Sienna soon. He was worried about her, and she's the only person from her old family left. She was a fairly skilled fighter too, she put up a good fight for Duilin and would make a very good alley. He needed more people with that sort of skill now that Zeros', Zion and the others are all gone. He then headed up into his bedroom, which he shared with his wife Bell.

It was going to be an interesting day tomorrow...

[Mikado]

~ ~ Forest ~ ~


"Ah..." Puco nodded, and took the girls hand and both jumped of the muffin.

"Let's go! We need to help Sienny find Duiy-oniichan!"

And with joy they continued.

[Xorlak]

- Phoencia Forest -

Melface's face contorted in an absolute feral scowl as he repeatedly slashed at the black fog. "You will pay!  You will pay!!!"  Slowly the fog engulfed him as his eyes burned crimson. After the blackness dissipated, there appeared to be no trace of the child-like demon...

To be continued...

[Xorlak]

Chapter 17

- Beach, Mandaila Island -

Ahh... this was the life.

Vincent leaned back in the folding chair, his multi-colored flowered shirt flapping in the cool ocean breeze.  The sunlight glistened off his shades, and the cries of gulls filled his ears.

No mad sovereign.  No undead armies.  No crazy death machines or death rays.  Just the sun, sea, peace, and quiet.  He'd have to come back here more often.  In fact, with his salary, he should just buy the whole island... yeah, that's what he'd do.  Then an early retirement.

"Would you like another grape, sir?"

Vincent opened one eye, which peered over his shades to acknowledge the servant.

"No, Alfred... fetch me some strawberries... and some of that white cream stuff."

"Very good sir."  Alfred bowed stiffly and turned on his heel, trotting through the sand dune back up to the shack on the hill.  Despite the intense sun and heat, he still wore a black long-sleeved tuxedo.

Vincent doubted he could overheat anyway. Alfred was the alchemist's personal zombie butler.  One of the necromancers resurrected the servant and bound him to Vincent.  Not a bad deal, despite the slight smell of decay.  In fact one would be hard pressed to take the man for a zombie, the only other evidence being his paled complexion and dark circles under his eyes.

The alchemist captain idly turned his gaze down to the golden shotgun and m-grid orb lying upon the blanket next to him.  Ugh... he'd have to return to work soon... Luckily, no one had his "number" but the sovereign himself.  Otherwise he would be getting a string of summons from the orb from incompetent mechanics and lesser alchemists with questions about his latest design, or frivolous reports of failings or successes.

He leaned back in his chair and began to doze off one last time...

[Mikado]

~ ~ Phoenicia Forest ~ ~

Somewhere in the huge forest a small salamander hissed. The thick grown trees began to shake a little. Birds flew away, and small animals began to move away, except for the salamander.
The place was becoming hotter and the salamander didn't mind it all. It hissed once more. Its last hiss it was.

As if appearing from the sky, a small spear pierced the ground, but the salamander didn't and couldn't see it, for a huge explosion followed instantly. An loud bang!
BANG! WHOOSH!
The birds that didn't fly away did now, and even of someone had little experience with exploding sounds, he could tell that this wasn't a ordinary explosion (actually none explosions are ordinary) but created by a bomb-or something like that.
The fire rose quickly and disappeared with the same speed. It was so hot that everything that it touched was burned to crisps instantaneously and there was nothing left to burn.  Only the spear was standing ... surrounded by a twenty meter radius of black coal. In there somewhere there were remains of our salamander.

Not too far but not too close from this place in the forest, there were a bunch of people standing. The echo of explosion had reached them, and in the sky they could see crowds of birds flying from the direction of the sound.

[D. Ein]

"My pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses man's understanding of life and death. Much of it is self-chosen; my pain is the bitter potion through which knowledge comes. Normal Necromancers, even Necrolytes do not have an idea of how straining it is to live for 9,482 others: is it a curse or a blessing to have this knowledge available to me?

I consider myself an optimist. I believe that paying the price of pain for my abilities is more than acceptable. I wonder if it is this pain that drives me to conquer Gaian? Perhaps it's just greed, I don't know, and truly, I don't care. I won't live with what I have. I need more.

Gaian.

It gives me life. It gives me fire. It gives me more...

Gaian is everything! I want everything! I want it!

...but it isn't coming to me fast enough. No... Not fast enough. In fact, I will speed up the process. Myself. Yes. I will go out into the battle scene myself. The fresh air and sun will be good for my non-existent health, save for the mental variety of such. The walls of the Citadel know how to make me depressed, they do. I've no choice?

Yeah, sounds about right. I'm going out there myself. Not like anything can happen to me, anyway."

---

- The Citadel; Lower floors -

-"But General... shouldn't that title mean that you stay back and command the Sovereign's armies? What if something were to happen to you?"

-"Wing, I fail to see why I must continue to explain this to you. A captain has been killed - and I will not sit back and send progressively stronger henchmen at the Gaian Republic until I run out. I'm going to go there myself, because it is the most sure way to find the criminal that did this."

-"Still! Flora Goethe and Sun together can perform just as well as you, as you've told me yourself!"

-"Look - go eat someone, or catch butterflies with Nex, I don't know. I don't need to explain myself to you. I'm leaving."

[Dark Spartan]

One thousand seven hundred and sixty four.

That was the number of bricks in the walls of Alex's cell at the headquarters of KAF's Regiment 6. He had checked the number many times -- he had spent two years counting and recounting the stone rectangles which constrained him to this chamber.

It had been a very long and difficult time for Alex. He had resisted the cruel, twisted methods the Kandarinians had used to force vital intelligence out of him, from simple interrogation to agonizing torture. He felt the tight amulet around his neck. He had been fitted with this to suppress his Twili powers, his latent pyrokinetic abilities, and the Shroud. In fact, he had not heard its soothingly sibilant voice for a very long time.

He could vaguely remember what happened those many months ago. His attempted attack on the Kandarinian capital had ended in failure -- Carmine and his goons beat him to the capital and warned them of his arrival. He was swiftly overwhelmed and captured. In the passing time, the KAF had undergone a massive reform, dividing itself into ten, well defined regiments. Regiment 6, where he was imprisoned, was in charge of assassinations, detention, and interrogation and torture.

Alex knew better than to try to escape. The Regiment's Lieutenant (second in command), was none other than Hannibal Roth, the notorious assassin who had cooperated with Carmine to capture Alex. He was not to be reckoned with, and Alex had the scars to prove it.

His thoughts turned to Midna, the young Twili princess who had joined him on his adventure so long ago. From what Alex had been able to piece together from the guards talking, she was taken to a separate regiment's headquarters. At one point, a guard said something about that regiment specializing in magic, with Damien Roth as its leader.

Alex winced at the thought of her all alone, without a protector. Since their meeting, it was believed that defeating the Sovereignty and restoring balance to Gaian would lift the curse that locked her in her imp form, but they were captured before headway could be made to that point. Alex felt terrible for her, and longed to see her again.

Alex looked up to the skylight he had been fortunate enough to have. It was the only view he had of the outside world for the last two years. From the view he could tell it was nighttime, the full moon directly overhead, its pale blue light filtering down into a ghostly circle on the stone floor.

He remembered when his Twili side awakened. It was on a moonlit night just like this. His life completely changed that day, and, given his circumstances, he wondered if it was for better or for worse.

Many times Alex had considered his options for escaping. Upon incarceration his P.C.S. combat suit and his energy rifle were immediately confiscated from him, and he had little hope that over the last two years they were still in one piece, if not gutted and used for some twisted KAF project. The amulet which suppressed his powers was fastened very tightly around his neck, making it nearly impossible for him to remove it without hurting himself. He tried using a brick to grind it down, but the amulet, made of a durable metal, would not comply. He knew the Lieutenant and Captain carried keys to unlock it, but how to procure one was a challenge in itself, considering he was monitored 24 hours a day.

He wondered if Midna had managed to escape somehow. Even if she had, she still may have no way of knowing where Alex was being kept. What if she had given in to the torture and interrogation? What if she was forced to fight in Regiment 8's magical ranks?

No. He knew she was stronger than that. He knew that she would try as hard as he would to find each other. It was time to take action. A thought occurred to him.

Their torture was some of the most agonizing I've ever endured. If I can handle that, I'm sure I can withstand a little missing  chest hair...

He gripped the amulet's gem-encrusted center, and pulled as hard as he could. Sharp pain shot through his chest and neck, almost as if the amulet had fused to his skin. Surging with adrenaline and gritting his teeth, he put everything he had into removing the infernal trinket. Finally, he was rewarded with a feeling of pain that felt like every hair being ripped from his body, only ten times worse. With an sharp scream he ripped the amulet from his neck, and threw it to the ground. Weakened from the struggle, he leaned back against the wall and felt the area where the amulet had been. The skin was worn smooth, and was red and irritated. He thought he saw bleeding from several areas.

As he inspected his wound, he felt it all come back to him.

The balanced insight of his Twili power. The powerful consuming nature of his pyrokinesis. The controlled devouring power of the Shroud. It all flooded back to him in a powerful deluge that brought him to his knees. He had never felt a more incredible feeling in his life.

The Shroud's hissing, throaty voice permeated his consciousness.
Yes... at long last, I am reborn... It is time to feed, to enact redemption on those who wronged us.

The Twilight Warrior's presence brightened his spirit.
The abomination of the dark is correct. It is time to reunite with those we love. We must fight for the greater good!

The guard, aware of the commotion from the cell, peered through the barred window, and dropped his speargun in terrifying realization of what was about to happen.

Before he could shout for additional help, a black, razor-laden tentacle shot through the metal door and impaled the hapless grunt, killing him instantly.

The tentacle withdrew, and Alex created a fireball in his hands. Firing the sphere of flame, he blew the door clean off of its hinges.

For the first time in years, Alex stepped from his cell, fueled by a combination of revenge, concern for those he loved, and the knowledge of what he had to do.

He had to destroy everyone who stood in his way. He had to find Midna. It was time they got back on track.

[Xorlak]

- Beach, Mandaila Island -

Alfred woke Vincent from his dozing with a plate of rich strawberries and cream.  Grumbling, the alchemist waved the butler off.  Alfred bowed and returned to the only building on the island retreat, to stand in the window and wait for his master's hand signal to tell him to return, no doubt.

Vincent pondered when he would have to leave to get back in time.  He knew of plans for the conflict in the Dark Continent, which was probably underway right now.  He doubted they would need his talents there.  He rarely saw field combat anymore anyway, his focuses mainly on designing the crazy war contraptions behind the scenes.  A tad boring, but the pay was quite worth it.

He remembered his younger days.  Days he dreamed of power he held all himself.  But wasn't this the same?  Implementing the mighty fist of the Sovereign?  He was satisfied for now.  But how long that would last, was anyone's guess.

He thought back to his current project.  Once the Halberd Airship design was complete, the Federation would crumble to its knees. They'd barely need the hammer anymore under such a crushing fleet of airships...  He'd wait until the design was fleshed out a bit more before presenting it.  No doubt, the Sovereign would be pleased...

Just then he felt a whoosh of air between his legs and jumped reflexively, rolling backwards into the sand and clutching his weapon.  A knife vibrated from where it imbedded itself in the chair.  Vincent scowled, looking around, but seeing nothing but sand and surf in all directions.  Where?!  Looking straight up, he saw a black speck in the clear blue sky.  It paused, as if waiting for him to see it, then zipped away.

He returned his gaze to the knife, spying a simple parchment impaled on the blade.  He removed the weapon, finding it to be a note.


Your master calls.  You will return.

- D

----

- Phoencia, Undisclosed location -

Francis peeled the fake jewel from his forehead, glad to be in safe walls at last.  The thing itched like crazy, and he was glad to be rid of it.

"Sir Hans," he said bowing lightly, "we've located the contact."

The tall thing figure in the chair turned,  a yellow glint shining from the trim of his exposed armor beneath the cloak thrown over it. "Oh?  Where is he?"

"He is... with the female runemaster, sir."

"What?!"  Hans bellowed as his stood, the chair falling over.  "What's he doin' there?  He's gonna get us found out!"

"Calm, Hans," came the figure on the opposite side of the table.  He was cowled, and his figure indiscernible, though he seemed a great deal shorter than Hans. "These... tailed ones are a formidable force.  No doubt this is part of our lord's plan."

"But he needs to get us the you-know-what right now.  And if he's carrying it with him, then..."

The cloaked figure brought up a hand. "You know these creatures can fly through air faster than fish through sea?  They can kill a dozen men before they're even seen.  He knows what he's doing.  Do not break protocol."

Hans sat back down, growling. "James, I'm in charge of the operation here in Phoencia, remember?"

"Yes yes.  I'm only here for the package.  But remember, I want this as much as you..."

Hans nodded, stroking his chin for a moment.  "Fine.  But we should at least give 'im a chance to come meet us... Francis!"

Francis stood at attention. "Yes sir!"

"Slip this guy the password and see if you can get him in 'ere.  And get some better glue for you forehead-jewel thing!"

"Y-yes sir!"

[Dude Man]

- Klawvorn -

Knock. Knock.

"Go away!" Duilin shouted, rolling over in his bed.

"Get up Duilin! You have a mission to go to soon."

"Uhh...just call it off, we'll do it tomorrow."

"DUILIN!"

Duilin rolled out of his bed, and got up, he was in white cover-all with red poka dots, he oped the door, seeing nobody.

"Down here." Said a voice from below.

"Oh yeah." Duilin looked down, and saw his imp friend, Rink. "Come on in." He turned around and went over to his dresser, which was filled his several sets of the same clothing.

"So, how was the full day at Ariosis?" Duilin asked.

"It was okay. I might tell you some about it later." Rink replied.

"Alright, so you'll never guess who I bumped into here."

"Valos?"

"How'd you know?" Duilin asked, turning around looking at him oddly.

"He's been wandering the hallways since five o' clock. He actually almost attacked me, but I ran away and the guards detained him, and tried to get him back into bed, but he wouldn't."

"I knew he would be trouble." Duilin shook his head.

[Drannic_Lord01]

- Ohtoku City, Ariosis -

A soft wind fluttered around the calm city as the continent of Ariosis prospered and continued to bring its rich suplies to the Gaian armies that stood against the Dark Sovereign, Kronos. The brightly-lit city was jam-packed with supplies and weapons, ready to send them off to the ports, where they were to be shipped off to Tjed, the Arctic, and Helternia. It seemed as though the continent was blessed by divinity.

And there he stood, observing all that flowed around him. The flow of peace before war. As they say, the peace before the war was always better than the peace after. Although battle seemed at hand, the largely populated Ariosis seemed untouched. Infact, it seemed that the war was benifitial to the people as industry and agriculture grew rapidly as the growing demand for weapons and food for the soldiers increased.

"So, this is as they say, the calm before the storm?" Bjendell Mjord, now a human because of what had happened before to him, seemed in the least way human. His skin color was a blue-ish tint and his eyes glowed with an erie glint of green. His angelic form may have left him, as well as his demonic half, but he still retained the powers of each, and was still able to draw upon them in times of need. However, there seemed to be no need for them, so they grew weaker and weaker as they were unused.

"Consular Bjendell Mjord?" a man asked, as he approached Ben. He carried a scroll in his left hand and placed his other hand on an elegant, silver blade, sheathed and tied to his belt. He also noticed that the man had a pack-sack attached to his back.

"What of it?" Ben asked, "What do they need me for?"

"I have a scroll for you, sir. It's all in the scroll, if you'd be so kind as to read."

"Yeah, yeah. Quit blaberin' and hand it over already!" Ben snached the scroll out of the messenger's hands and unrolled it.

To the consular of the general public, there is need of your assistance. You will find that a messenger has brought with him a bag filled with unknown items. The port town of Arakisnav has recently been attacked, yet the enemy of the attack has been unidentified. It is highly likely that the attackers are Kandarinian, although we cannot be certain. The battle has been quelled, and the hostiles were eliminated. However, we have found two strange weapons on one of the enemies. We would like you to experiment with them as you are an alchemist. Find out what they are and how they work.

- Governor Nav of Port Arakisnav -

Ben re-rolled the scroll and handed it back to the messenger. He then placed his hand out infront of him. "Let me see the bag, kido."

"Hey! I ain't no kid!"

"Shut up and let me see it."

"Y-yes sir." The messenger then grabbed the pack off his back and handed it to Ben. He took the sack and opened it. Inside were two objects that looked like pieces of weapons. One looked like the hilt of a sword and was awkwardly constructed with a hole where a blade might go. The other looked like a gun with an unattached cartrige, seemingly empty.

"Alright, kid. Scram. Go back to Governor Nav and tell him I'm on it."

"Grr... yes sir." With that, the young messenger ran off into the distance, running down the road that lead to Arakisnav. Ben took the items and headed off to his house, opened the door, and closed it, locking it up with a key. He took the items out of the bag and noticed two more that he hadn't before. There were two white stones that seemed to fit in a socket on each of the weapons. He placed all of the items on a desk and set out to piece the items together.

"These are definately weird. Maybe those guys who attacked were from another dimension. Either that, or the Kandarinians have mad a disturbing discovery." Ben took the cartrige out of the gun, placed the white stone inside of it, and placed the cartrige back into the gun. The chamber of the gun began to glow white.

"Apparently, that stone is a rune. Looks like somebody weaponized it into a projectile weapon. I'll have another look at that hilt." Ben grabbed the sword hilt and placed the white rune into the open hole at the top. The hilt shook slightly, and a blade of white energy burst out of the hilt. It was shaped like a broadsword.

"This is bad... whoever made these must know a lot about alchemic formations of runestones..." Ben took the weapons and left his house, on his way to Arakisnav, taking the two runes out before leaving and placing them in his pocket.

--- --- ---

- An Unknown Island Off the West Coast of Ariosis -

"Lord Kerseline, the attack failed!"

"WHAT!?!?!?"

"I'm sorry, lord. Their techniques surpassed even our own, and we were whiped out!"

"Well maybe next time you should send some better soldiers than traniees!!! IDIOT!!!"

"I'm sorry, lord! We will not fail again, I assure you!"

"You had better not, or I'll have your ass on a silver platter! Now, get out of my sight, Hyuga."

"Yes, lord Kerseline... I will send the order of the dark crescent to attack them once more. Yet this time, they'll send better soldiers. I will lead them myself!"

"You had better hope the alchemists over there didn't find out how to make runic weaponry out of the weapons lost on your men."

"I hope the didn't, lord. If they did, it would sure enough spell out our demise..."

"Did I or didn't I tell you once already to get going!?"

"I'm sorry, lord. I shall go at once."

"Then go already!"

"Yes, Lord Kerseline!"

------------

[Dark Spartan]

"Hey. Stop fiddling with that."

"Excuse me?"

"Your collar. Stop screwing with it, you might hurt yourself."

The prison guard scolded Midna as she struggled with her magic-suppressing amulet. It was the tightest shackle of them all, preventing her from even levitating. She sat up against one of the corners in her cell, pondering how to escape. For two years she lived in this stone room, inspecting every aspect of it she could use to her advantage.

But to no avail, the regiment's headquarters were built by some of the best architects in the world. Finding a flaw in the structure would be like trying to find a needle in a haystack, only to realize that after turning the entire stack upside down, there was no needle. It was pointless.

Midna gazed through the bars into the main training area of the regiment, which sat adjacent to the detention cells. For months she had watched new recruits become molded into some of the best magic-wielding soldiers in Kandarin's armed forces. This came as no surprise to her, seeing as the regiment was headed by Damien Roth, a masterful user of air magic.

Being imprisoned in this regiment had changed both of their egos considerably. Damien refused to cease insisting that he was superior to her in every way, shape or form, something which she learned to ignore after the first twenty times.

Her thoughts turned to Alex, and how they had not been together since their capture two years ago. She had never heard any word of where he was imprisoned, but she did hear from the guards that wherever he went, few survived the brutal punishments which they received. Regardless, she knew that Alex's will was nearly impossible to break, and the only thing that may have changed in him would be his facial hair (they did not allow personal hygiene during detention).

One downside of being held near the training grounds is that inevitable accidents would break out, especially when training rookies. More than once have nearby cellmates been burned (or even vaporized) by a fire blast, or frozen by an errant ice blast. Midna believed it to be some sadistic (but apparently effective) means of capital punishment, using the trainees' inexperience (of all things) as their executioner.

"Hit the deck!" one of the training instructors shouted as an air blast got loose and buffeted the cells with gale-force winds. Midna welcomed the blast, as the cell had become rather stuffy.

A large set of double doors opened on the other side of the training chamber. Passing through the threshold was none other than Damien Roth himself, wearing the black trenchcoat and thoridium staff of a Kandarinian Captain. Twice daily he would make rounds through the training chamber, carefully monitoring his future soldiers.

The instructor paused his exercise. "Captain is now present!" he barked to his recruits. As if it were a knee-jerk reflex, all of the recruits suddenly stood up straight, at rapt attention.

Damien approached the instructor. "Hello, Sergeant."

"Sir," the instructor saluted. "I am sure you will be pleased to see--"

"I shall make that judgment myself," Damien mused, stepping into the group of training recruits. Every soldier knew that Damien could cite them for anything, and be immediately removed from the chamber, so nothing else could be done than to stand as motionless as a statue while Damien scrutinized them. He wove through the rows of men, carefully examining each one. Much to his surprise, this was the first time he found nothing amiss.

"You do an impressive job, Sergeant," Damien said begrudgingly. "Maintain it, and do not disappoint me."

"Yes-SIR!" the Sergeant shouted. "Men, resume your exercises!"

Leaving the training men behind, he passed by the cells, examining all kinds of prisoners, from those who have lost their will to live, to those who clawed at the bars, screaming of their innocence. Then he passed Midna.

"Oh, it's YOU again," Midna sighed.

"This is a regular thing, dear," Damien said. "After two years I assumed you would have gotten used to it."

Damien adjusted his posture, making himself more comfortable. He had a feeling they would be talking for some time.

"Do you ever plan to do anything with me?" Midna finally broke the silence. "For the last two years you've locked me in this cell to waste away. You didn't bring me to this regiment for no reason."

"Look around," Damien explained. "This mighty installation is set on the stormy Redvik coastline. Alex is more than half a continent away. There is no hope of you two ever seeing each other again. The sooner you accept that, the sooner you'll be of use to me."

"Wishful thinking," Midna shot back. "I have faith that Alex will--"

"You keep telling yourself that." Damien hissed. "Faith is meaningless in the face of unadulterated power. Faith cannot kill. Faith cannot burn villages to the ground. Faith cannot change the face of the world!"

"You'd be surprised," Midna said.

"Alex can certainly try to fight his way out, but he will be quickly crushed. His is in the midst of some of the military's foremost assassins and killers. Captain Vasburg is ruthless, and she will not stand for fugitives. She will mobilize every last speargunner and stalker at her disposal to return his head to her. It is impossible."

Midna remained silent.

Damien, satisfied he had won, continued with his rounds.

Midna sighed. The deluded Captain knew nothing of Alex's potential. He would be here in no time.

Her attention turned back to the instructor, who was in the middle of using some rather colorful language to berate a recruit who had not checked his equipment. Frustrated, the instructor threw a punch at the recruit, who flinched. This resulted in a stray fire bolt headed straight for Midna's cell.

Seeing imminent death before her, she scrambled out of the way as the white-hot flame exploded across the metal bars. When the smoke cleared, the bars glowed a dull red.

Suddenly, Midna was struck with a burst of intuitive insight. Thermal shock! If I can get those dim bulbs to shoot an ice blast over here, the bars will shatter! But how do I do that?

She turned her gaze to an ice mage in training, who was laughing at the fire mage's expense.

She shouted to him. "Hey, you in the white robes! What are you, a druid?! I know hippies who can pick more of a fight than you!"

The instructor occupied with the fire mage, the ice mage turned toward Midna's cell. "What did you just say, you little bitch?!"

"You heard me!" Midna grinned. "Go back to cleaning herbs for a living you pacifist!"

Outraged, the ice mage's hands brought forth a massive blizzard, frosting the entire inside of Midna's cell. Although sufficiently chilled, she was pleased to see fractures forming in the bars, as well as the magic-blocking amulet around her neck. The trinket shattered.

"You just made a big mistake," Midna smiled devilishly. Bringing forth her massive hair-hand, she punched through the bars and promptly hurled the mage across the room with her telekinesis. Satisfied, she created a portal and made good her escape.

"DELLEGAR!" the instructor bellowed. "Leave the prisoners alone, do not let them rile you--" He looked in horror at the empty cell. "Do you realize what you have just done! This is treason!"

"Sergeant, I can explain--"

"GUARDS! Take this traitor away! Also, someone who is not afraid of dying needs to tell Captain Roth that the imp girl has escaped!"

[Xorlak]

- Beach, Mandaila Island -

Vincent crumpled the parchment in his hand, gritting his teeth.  Who dares?!  He was a high ranking captain!  Who dares call him to some "master"?  Let alone deliver the message as crudely as through a thrown knife!

He stood, forcing himself to calm down.  Obviously the perpetrator wanted to rile him, so he would not allow whoever it was that small success.  Unfortunately there were a huge number of people he worked for in the past, the majority deranged enough to try a stunt like this.  He'd had his foot in the Dark Empire, Crimson Empire, Grey Empire... It even seemed like one of the things Kronos' stalkers would try, but that didn't make any sense.  His M-Grid orb was right there.  If he had a current "master" it'd be Kronos.

He returned his gaze to the sky, scanning for that black speck in the air.  That was obviously the source of the knife.  He'd find him, and deliver appropriate punishment...

"Alfred!  We are leaving."

"Right away, sir." Came the muffled yell from back in the vacation hut.

Vincent strode towards the water's edge, brightly colored tropical shirt flapping in the sea breeze.  He pressed his hands against the fabric and it glowed, shifting and elongating.  Soon it was replaced by his familiar black trench coat, long pants and boots upon his feet.

Still wearing the clip-on shades, he folded his shotgun and replaced it in his coat, removing a small black box in the same motion.  He pressed the big red button with a click and the ground began to shake...

Waves lapped at his heels as the ocean stirred.  A vortex formed as a black object rose from beneath the surface.  In a moment, his personal airship hovered above the sea.  An advanced prototype, it was unlike any flying structure ever seen.  It retained its black airship sheen with glowing yellow cracks, especially on the underside, but that's where the similarities to standard ships ended.  This one was very small, without a deck.  It was vaguely stingray shaped with a blue window at the front much like a helmet's visor.

Vincent leapt on top in a single bound and disappeared into a circular hatch.  As the ship began to rumble, the zombie butler Alfred followed with an unexpectedly deft leap, carrying two suitcases.  With that the thing tilted to the left and rose straight up, then rocketed skyward, a ripple surging across the water.