Digimon Fan Fiction / Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Digital Fantasy ❯ Characters of Fate ( Chapter 1 )

KNIGHT: After the War
Weary from his journey, the knight rode the golden chocobo into a small town. The light rain trickled on his dull helmet and soaked his leather cloak, still worn from the last years of the Gennai Wars. Just the thought of the name sparked the spite in his veins. The war like any other was always the struggle for power, tearing lives and families apart especially the Gennai Royal Families who were the ones responsible for the devastation. Their greed and selfishness for control and power only brought suffering to the lower classes.

Even now with the conclusion of the war and the time for peace treaties, the lives of the inhabitants across the nine countries were still in a state of turmoil. His chocolate eyes surveyed the area as if he was still at war. His soldier's instincts never let him down. Everywhere he went, he had to anticipate the trouble his status would cause.

The streets were bare for a few people, but they were already rushing to their homes because of the weather. The rain was beginning to pour down now as the man jerked the chocobo towards the western section of town, where the local inn was located. When he stopped at the short pathway to the inn's front doorstep, he climbed off the golden creature and led it towards a post that stood on either side of the walkway. He tied the reins to the post and took his belongs from the back of the chocobo, preparing to enter the building.

If outside was practically deserted of people, then the empty inn said something about this town. He stood in the doorway for a few moments, scanning the lobby, and when he sensed nothing strange, he proceeded farther in, letting the door slam after him. He slowly and carefully walked up to the front desk just in time to be greeted by a nervous, elder woman, who must've been surprised from the noise.

Looking at the stranger, her aged eyes quickly darted from top to bottom and to the satchel over his shoulder and then finally stayed on the intimidating sword by his side. She never lost her nervousness as the soldier stood in front of her. He could sense the fear in her manner--fear of those with blood on their hands--and to hopefully ease her mind, he placed his sheathed sword on the counter as well as his belongings.

Her eyes were glued to him as she tried to remain calm, clasping her hands together to stop her body from trembling. She felt herself tense up when he reached for his helmet. She was expecting a middle-aged man all roughed up from the contacts of the wilderness, coarsed and beared, but instead she let out a small gasp at the young brunette who was giving her a genuine, warm smile. Even with the disheveled, bushy hair like he spent his whole life sleeping under stars, he was quite a handsome, young man.

"I'm sorry if I scared you," he apologized. His voice was gentle, and she could've sworn she heard a small chuckle hidden beneath it. She studied him again, knowing that he was a soldier yet wondering why his type ended up as one. He seemed like one of the teenagers in the town, including her youngest son, so well-mannered, a youthful face that should enjoy life.

Her gaze went down to the counter where his items were and fell on the hilt of the sword. There was a family crest in its center that signified that it belonged to a noble family even if she didn't know which one of the thousands out there. Finding her voice again, she greeted him like a good proprietoress should, "Welcome, sir knight, how can I help you?"

He chuckled lightly at the title, brushing his gloved hand through his messy hair. She didn't realize it before--probably because of the poor lit lobby--but there was a dark-blue headband around his head that didn't help at all in taming his hair. "Just one room for the night," he said.

"Yes, we do have rooms that are vacant," she replied, skimming through the inn's log.

"Any room's fine. I'm not picky," he added. "How much will that be?"

"Twenty gils, sir."

He reached into his satchel and pulled out a few coins. He looked over the money and then gave it to the woman. It was twenty more gils than she expected. She was about to say something, but he spoke up instead, "I have a chocobo in the front that needs a place to stay too."

"We have a stable in the back. My son'll bring it back there and feed it for the evening."

"Thanks, and can I have a meal sent to my room?"

"Yes, I'll inform the cook," she said as she gave him the key to his room. "It's room twelve. There's a nice view of the town's square." He thanked her and gathered up his things again with the helmet tucked under one arm and the other carried his bag and sword. The woman watch the young man ascend the staircase in silence, just realizing that she forgot to ask for his name.

He unlocked the door to his temporary room that was at the end of the hallway and stepped inside. It was furnished with a bed in the corner, a few cabinents and chests were set along the opposing wall, and a round table with a four chairs took up the center. It was simple and comfortable, just enough for a traveler to feel at home.

He put his satchel and sword on the table and finally decided to pry the wet cloak from his body, revealing a dull armor protecting plain, blue outfit. He shook the wrapping of the dripping water and then let it fold over the back of a chair as he slipped the gloves off his hands.

He sat down, looking over his appearance, and made an expression that appeared to be half bewilderment and half frustration. His clothes were semi-damp, clinging to his skin. He really needed a bath, and maybe after a meal he would have to do that. A nice warm bath sounded great in his mind. He had been traveling for at least three days now, still on his search from two months ago.

It wasn't long when he noticed there was a window and walked over to it. The rain was coming down strong now, but he hoped it would stop soon. If not, then he would probably have to stay an extra day. God, how he hated the rain. He didn't mind the physical annoyance of it, but the depressing mood was something he could do without. It was only making his journey difficult.

He came out of his thoughts when a knock at the door beckoned him. He answered it and was met by the innkeeper with his meal. He stepped aside, allowing her entrance, all the while keeping his eyes pasted on the food. A village's meal looked more appealing than whatever hunt in the wild, and not having to cook was another advantage, not bothering to think how lousy he was at it.

He followed the wonderful aroma to the table and seated himself like an impatient, little boy. The woman smiled at the sight, chuckling quietly to herself. "Enjoy the dinner, sir," she said, bowing slightly. He nodded, and she started to let herself out.

She stopped halfway through the door entrance and looked back, realizing she needed something from him that was required from all customers. "Sir, can I have your name for the record," her voice had a hint of authority, which he seemed to overlook.

He was already into the food and swallowed the bit of food before answering. He turned to her, not to be rude with one's back to another. "Yagami," he said with a wide grin, "Taichi Yagami."


LANCER: Family Secrets
He hurried through the gates of a manor, right pass the soldiers on either side. The guarding pair didn't have time to give a proper acknowledgement but eventually laughed it off at the energetic youth. The stone-paved path to the front doorstep of the manor was quite a trek if a person was walking.

The blonde running up the pathway would not have been anyone special if it wasn't for the spear strapped to his back. Anyone with a spear was ordinary, but this young man possessed a unique spear that only the men in his family could inherit. It was said that the weapon was a gift from a past king to his ancestors.

Today, he was lucky his father wasn't home, so he sweetly borrowed it from his father's private chambers for practice and a little spar his rival had challenged. Although he was a squire at the moment, he would one day follow his father's footstep and live up to the family name of skilled lancers. His father was the best role model anyone could have, being one of the heroes of the Gennai Wars.

He flung the front doors aside and ran through the hallways, not bothering with the opened doors, until he ran into the maid. He quickly got to his feet and apologized for his rude manners. She laughed, ruffling up his blonde hair. He wrinkled his nose in false annoyance and then laughed. "Oh where's mom?"

"Young master almost forgot about lunch again," she said in a playful, scolding tone.

Embarrassed, he rubbed the back of his neck. "Heh, really?"

She nodded. "M'lady is in her room."

"Thanks!" he said before dashing down the hall again. The maid just shook her head and continued with her activity.

He retraced his steps to front of the house and climbed the stairs to the second floor. He went down two different hallways before reaching his parents' chambers. Usually he would knock before he entered, but his only thoughts were of telling his mother what happened to him that morning, so he busted through the doors, calling out to his mother.

Time seemed to have stopped when he stood in the doorway, letting his smile drop into a frown. He stared at the scene of his mother and a man who wasn't his father standing so close to each other. The woman in her mid-thirties stared at her son with wide eyes, clutching some pieces of papers in her hands. The stranger just stared at the boy with an expressionless face and then turned back to his mother. He said something to her that wasn't audiable to the young blonde.

He clutched the handle of the spear and drew it forward, cautiously proceeding towards the two. He was about to demand the stranger's reason for trespassing in the worse possible places, but the man looked over at the boy again, and their eyes met. He smirked and walked over to the window, eventually escaping through it.

Gripping the spear tightly, he ran to the window to find no trace of the intruder. His eyes quickly swung to his mother, who was now leaning over the desk as if it was the only thing holding her up now. "Mom, who was that man?" he asked, trying to remain calm. That person didn't seem like someone his family would associate with, not to mention he was a man standing in his parents' bedroom alone with his mother. "What was he doing here?!" His voice rose a bit at the end, appearing somewhat demanding.

"Please, Takeru," she said quietly. Tears fell onto the surface of the desk as the young man dropped the family heirloom to the floor and embraced his mother gently.

"I'm sorry, mom," he pleaded. "I didn't mean to yell, but please tell me what happened. Did he hurt you?" She pulled back from him, shaking her head. He was very relieved to know that. If that man did hurt her, he would track that villain down and punish him accordingly. "Mom," he called, holding her by the shoulders, "please tell me. You know I won't be able to stand it."

She nodded, and he helped her over to the bedside. "Please close the doors, Takeru." He obliged and soon joined her, sitting in a chair across from her. She took a deep breath and let it out before starting. Looking directly into his deep-blue eyes, she asked calmly, "Do you remember of hearing about the incident that happened to me three years before you were born?"

He nodded, wondering what her kidnapping had to do with it. Was that man the kidnapper? Or somehow related to the incident? "You have a right to know, Takeru, of what happened to me during that year as a hostage." He suddenly felt tense as if he had been turned into stone, staring at his mother. He had heard many versions of the story, but this would be the first time to actually hear it from his mother. He had always avoided asking her since he thought it would bring sad memories for her.

"Years before the Gennai Wars," she began, "I married your father through arrangements to build a strong alliance between the two households. I was a traditional, young woman and didn't mind my future being set out for me. But a few months after the ceremony and being away from my family, I became homesick. Your father was away, so I decided to take a trip home to visit."

Takeru was practically at the edge of his seat, unknowingly gripping the cloth of his pants tightly, baring his white knuckles. He listened intently, letting every single word seep into his ears.

"I only had a maid and the driver with me when we journeyed. At the time, I had thought it was a mistake to be so careless." His eyebrows wrinkled into puzzlement, wondering what she meant by her last statement. He noticed his mother was now staring out the window with these distant-looking eyes as if she was reminscing on happy times. He didn't recall a time when he saw her that way, not even when she talked about his father.

"Yes, Takeru," she said, having noted his every reaction throughout her story, "You have an older brother." It was a good thing he was sitting down or else his legs would've faltered from the weight of this knowledge. His whole body was still in a state of shock as he continued to stare ahead, looking at nothing in particular.

"Even if you don't accept him, he is still your half-brother." She stood up and walked over to the desk. She picked up the papers she held before and showed it to him. "That man was one of the thieves working under your brother. He came to inform me of his father's death, and these are his last words to me."

Her son slowly reached his hands out and grasped the papers as if it was something very delicate. He wasn't reading the words yet, but his eyes were still glazed over from the deep secret his mother just shared with him. "There is a letter from your brother as well," she whispered. She sounded so heartbroken that he had to look up at her. He didn't understand why the sadness overwhelmed more than before.

Through her story, she was mourning the death of a man--the thief who literally stole her heart--that she had learn to love in a short period of time, and yet at the mention of a letter from her oldest son, she had the urge to break down into tears again. Takeru immediately searched through the papers for a different handwriting and finally came upon the last sheet with a recent date. It was the letter from his brother.

Takeru carefully read each word and understood why it pained his mother so when she talked about his brother. The words were short and to the point that there was no relationship between the mother and son since his father was no longer in this world. How could he just sever the relationship just like that? Did he not know that she was STILL his mother, the woman who gave birth to him?!

But seeing his side to it, the last time he was held by his mother was only a few months after he was born. Their mother had no choice but to return to her legal husband because of the duty and honor she was bound to. She would have taken her first son with her, but her lover wanted the baby to stay, to remind him of her--to remind him of the love they shared. He could feel the hatred seething through the letter, and it tore him apart that anyone could hold so much negativity like this--towards his mother at that.

His brother grew up without a mother and in an environment that probably didn't show much love. He shook his head, not being able to imagine a life without love, and stood up. "Mom," he said quietly. She turned to him. "Do you love father?"

Somewhat stunned at the question, she wiped the remaining tears from her face. "Of course I do!"

Takeru nodded, smiling. He was glad that his mother still loved his father and didn't mind it all that she also loved another man, but now that man was dead, so the past was the past. What bothered him now was the young man conceived from that love. He gave the letters back to her and went to the spot his spear was dropped and laid. His mother watched his every step, seeing that her youngest son had something planned.

After he picked up the weapon, he looked at her. "I want to see him, mom," he said calmly, "I want to meet my older brother."


DANCER: In Search of an Identity
She sat quietly and still in front of the oval mirror hanging on the wall, staring at her own reflection as if she was finding solace in it. The oil lamp was left burning on the vanity dresser by her side, letting the flickering of light play against her features. Half of her was in light while the other in darkness, just like who she was.

But that was the very question she had asked herself many times: who was she? She didn't have amnesia, but she just couldn't remember the 'real' her. Every now and then, she would think about her childhood, being as important to them as they were to her, but she could only make out the blurry outlines and features of these people as if time was slowly erasing them from her memories. When she was younger, the memories were like dreams from a fantasy story, but as she grew older in a time of war and uncertainty, the fantasies were pushed further away.

It wasn't until her mother passed away that she was informed of the truth of her presence in the dying woman's family. During the past thirteen years, she lived a mediocre with a father and mother, believing they were her own family. Her life was ripped apart when her father died of illness--by then, her age reached the double digits. Since then, she and her mother were forced to move to a village, surviving on whatever her father left them.

Life didn't seem to get any worse than that until a few years later when her mother had to leave her too. She remembered that day well when she thought her fragile life couldn't be broken anymore, but it did, shattering into fine dust of glass, when those words escaped her lips, "I'm not... your real mother..."

She held onto her mother's hand, staining it with her bitter tears. Her voice sobbed through through those words, denying her ears of their existence. "Please mother, you can't leave all alone." She held the woman's hand against her face, feeling the warmth that would caress her cheeks lovingly.

"Sweet daughter," she breathed heavily, giving all her strength into a comforting squeeze of the girl's hand. "I'm sorry..." Her free hand slowly lifted into the air, pointing towards the desk across the room.

She only took notice of it for a second before screaming for her mother, whose hand suddenly limped within her own. She collasped over the bed-ridden form and wept over the losses she had endured in her lifetime until her consciousness tired.

She shook the memory aside as her dainty hand reached for the hair brush on the desk. Keeping her eyes focused on her face, she smoothed the bristles of the brush through her silky, long hair. She wondered about the features of her face--who they resembled, did she look like her real mother, or her real father? Did she have any siblings? Why wasn't she with her real family? Were they dead? Alive? Searching for her?

Her hand stopped in mid-stroke as she pondered the last question. If they were searching for her, they would've probably found her during those thirteen years. She put the brush down and stood up, revealing an attractive, slim figure in the mirror. She wore a black, sleeveless top and a long, matching skirt. Her midsection was left bare with only a pair of golden chains dangling around her waist. One end of a pink cloth wrapped around her forearm and draped behind her to her other forearm.

She walked over to the bed in the room and stood over it, staring down at a medium-size, wooden box. Her fingers slowly traced across the surface of the top, noting the tiny dents and cracks it suffered through time like her own heart. The box was the only possession she had left of her dead mother as well as her past. It was the very thing that her mother pointed to before she passed away, containing a child's pink dress that she had worn when they found her and a letter of deep regret and sorrow from her adopted mother.

Her fingers rested on the opening edge of the box, but she didn't open it. She knew every single detail of the dress to the very point of where each blood stain had tainted, and she could recite the letter in her sleep. When she read the letter for the first time, anger had taken over her heart that she wanted to rip the letter in a million pieces. Her mother had been so selfish, keeping the secret from her till the last breath, but through time, she began to understand her mother's feelings.

The woman and her husband didn't have any children because of an accident in her childhood that prevented her from child-bearing. It saddened them greatly until they found a three-year-old girl collapsed in the woods. Minor cuts and bruises were apparent, but it was certain that the blood on the girl's dress did not belong to her. The couple didn't know what happened or what could hurt such an innocent child, but they nursed and cared for the girl as if she had been their own. When no news of a missing child ever came up and the girl only remembering someone telling her to run, it was then that they declared the girl as their own.

Ever since her father died, her mother only had her left, and she wasn't about to lose the only family she had left, not until she was dying that she decided to write the letter, retelling of that fateful encounter and deep regret for witholding the secret that long.

She looked up at the knock on the door, and a female voice followed, "Miss Mimi, you'll be on in ten minutes."

"All right," she answered. She turned back to the mirror, brushing her hand through her her mahogany hair, and shook it loose to make sure it had a seductive sway. She smoothed down her skirt and then adjusted the hem of her top so it wouldn't show something she didn't want.

Not in a thousand years would she ever imagine herself with such a job, flaunting her body to a crowd of men, but she had to make some living. After leaving her home, she was fortunate enough to have ran into a traveling troupe of dancers instead of a band of criminals, and that was her new family and home till recently when she was capable of being on her own. With a body like hers, graceful and alluring, the trade came to her easily, and money was no longer a problem.

But Mimi wasn't stupid. She was deeply instilled with morals from her adopted parents, and if a man didn't know how to keep his hands to himself, she would teach him a lesson that could cause him to fear women for the rest of his life. She was grateful of the dancing troupe, allowing her to learn their trade as well as the secrets that helped defended themselves.

If they weren't certain of her abilities and potential, they wouldn't have accepted her and let her go so easily. The troupe had rules to abide by like any other guild or association. But the time came where she made her decision to leave. She had to go in order to find her past and her self.

"It's show time," she smiled faintly before turning away from the mirror. She walked towards the door, swaying her hips a bit with every diminutive step she took. For the first time in her life, she was certain about one thing: to continue living for her self.


SAMURAI: Last Vengeance
He couldn't believe his life would end up on such a path, being hunted like an animal. Where did it all go wrong? Not only was his life endangered, he had involved his mother and aunt as well. Their lives were at the mercy of the one man that wronged them all. And here he was, the son of a great samurai fleeing for his life. If only he hadn't promised them, then he could face his uncle like an honorable warrior.

He stopped running and placed his ear against the ground, listening for the distant feet pursuing him. They were getting closer. He ran a bit farther with his keen eyes scanning the area around him. It dawned on him that the chase was in a familiar place he and his father would come to in order to practice. There was a huge tree nearby that was old and hollow.

His feet and senses took command and steered his body towards his childhood place, bringing back joyous memories of his father. Unfortunately that kind of life ended when he died by the hands of his own brother. How could such deceit and treachery exist within a family?!

He slowed down and pushed his way through the low shrubs until his hands felt the familiar touch against the rough, chipped surface. He had found the tree in all the darkness like his father was right by him, guiding his lost soul to safety. He silently thanked his father as he searched for the small entrance way at the base of the tree. The shrubs around the tree would also discourage the chance of spotting him.

As a young boy, he had always been small compared to the other children--always teased and ridiculed about how young warriors were supposed to stand tall and proud. Even as a teenager now, the difference was still the same compared to others around his age, but he had learned to use it to his advantage. Power did not rely on size or any physical aspect.

He got onto the ground and crawled into the hole. He pulled and twisted whatever branches nearby over the hole. He gripped his precious katana that he managed to retrieve as the rustling of leaves and the crackling of branches echoed in the distance. He waited patiently as his predators began to appear in the area. He couldn't see them, but their presences were there.

One hand was around the scabbard while the other was on the hilt, ready to lash out in defense if need be. He narrowed his eyes as he heard voices in an enlightening conversation. "This is stupid," someone commented.

"Does Hida-sama really expect us to find the kid?" another questioned.

"Idiot, he's at least thirteen!"

"What's so important in capturing him anyway? It's not like he can kick Hida-sama's butt."

"Watch your mouth!" someone ordered. "We're after the brat 'cause he has the late master's blade. Now spread out!"

There was mumbling among the search party before they went their separate ways to find him. It would take at least two hours before they gave up and return empty handed. He carefully leaned back against wall of the tree and relaxed, still holding his father's katana close to him. His last thoughts were of his mother and aunt before weariness overcame him.

It had only been a month since his father's funeral, and every day he would sit in front of the man's altar in silence. His father was a true warrior, representing honor and duty to all the clans across the country, and he strived to be as great. The family kendou school was very famous, earning disciples from everywhere, and the legendary katana that took down a hundred men with one swing belonged to them as well.

He looked up when someone stumbled into the private room. His aunt was sprawled on the floor, glancing over her shoulders as if someone was chasing her. He got up and went over to help her up. "Iori-chan," she whispered, trying to hide her face from his gawking eyes.

He stepped back, allowing her space. "Auntie, your face. What happened?" He stared at her red, swollen cheek. "Did someone attack you?!"

The tears dripped down her face as she couldn't bring herself to look at her nephew. Her lips trembled, uncertain of how to phrase her words. She covered her mouth as her eyes shut tightly, cutting off the flow of tears. "Oh Iori... it's horrible..." She shook her head in shame. "Yo-your father... He was murdered!!"

"WHAT?!" He stumbled backwards but kept himself on his feet. "Auntie, is this the truth?!!" How could he just question her like that? She was not the type to lie, and this was a delicate matter, knowing how much his father meant to him. He grabbed her by the shoulders. "Who? Who killed my father?!"

She opened her eyes, and the tears continued like it never did cease. "My... husband," she squeaked out. "Your father's own brother..." Her voice was just below a whisper. The news struck him like a sword would have, but it was his heart that was deeply wounded. How could his uncle do that to his brother?! Was this all a nightmare?!

He clutched the sides of his head, straining his mind with unanswered questions. He fell on his knees in frustration, but his aunt gathered what sanity was left between the two of them. "Iori-chan, please. You have to get away from here!" she begged. "He'll be after you and the blade soon! You have to go. Promise me you'll go!!"

He finally pulled his senses together, closing his eyes for a brief moment, and the warrior in him took control. "All right, but you and mother are coming with me. I can't have him hurt the both of you either."

She shook her head. "No, I'm still his wife, and we will only be a burden for you." She pulled him up from the floor and tugged him along like a lost child into the next room. "If you leave with the sword, he won't hurt either of us because he knows you'll be back for us." She sighed, "I know he has done great wrong, but in the meantime, I hope I will be able to convince him to redeem himself."

Then a loud crash echoed from the front yard as a horde of footsteps invaded the Hida compound. The pair ducked into a room that held the sacred sword of the family, and Iori grabbed it. He dragged his aunt with him, hoping that he could at least rescue one person. They made it into the backyard, but the woman tripped over her own kimono.

"LEAVE ME!" she commanded. "JUST RUN!! RUN, IORI!!" And that was what he did, not looking back at all, because if he did, the new path ahead of him would never be offered again. "RUN!!" was all he could hear and remember after leaving his home.

His face burrowed in discomfort, sensing the brightness against his fluttering eyes. He blocked the bothersome light with his hands as his eyes slowly adjusted to the new time of day. He peeked outside from his hiding place and found nothing was a disturbance to nature except for him. He crawled out from the hollow tree and stood up, stretching his arms from being in a cramped spot all night.

He headed east, opposite from his home, towards the raging seas. It had to all come down to this: fleeing his own country. But what choice did he have left if his uncle already had plans to do away with him while he had nothing but vengeance on his mind?

There was no need to kill innocents when he was only after one man, but that man had too many lives at his hands to do his dirty work. With only himself, he certainly needed a plan, and now it was essential that he mastered the family techniques so he could punish the murderer with his father's own katana.


PRIESTESS: Without a Home
She laid on the small cot, sobbing on the pillow until she couldn't feel any part of it dry, ignoring the flickering flame of the candle by her bedside. Her world was turning upside down because of the war. She had no home to return to since it was raided and destroyed. Her parents were found dead, and there was no news of her big brother who was in the war. She prayed every night that he would be safe but always ended up in tears, crying herself to sleep.

This convent must've been her sixth or seventh one already. Her parents had sent her away for schooling and safety during the war, but who would've thought that even a sacred place was no longer a safe haven. The first few times she and her classmates were forced to leave since the armies were order to use whatever space necessary for the wounded. At other times, there were news that the places would be attacked and the defense in the area was weak and didn't put up much of a battle.

Even during the trek to safety, she lost a few friends and encountered others who were frightened and withdrawn like her. Even after the war was over, she felt so alone--partly because she didn't have a home nor a family to return to. She would probably live the rest of her days in the convent, isolating herself in her studies. That was all she had left.

"Hey, Hikari!" a voice called, "Where are you?"

The brunette in the library looked up at the mentioning of her name. She brushed some loose strands of hair behind her ear as she stood up. "In here!" she shouted, gathering her books in a pile. She tucked them securely within her arms and headed for the doorway to meet her friends.

When she shut the door after she left, three girls spotted her and ran to the girl. One of them said, "Hikari, how can you find time to study when there's a war out there?!"

"Don't joke around," another said, "the abbess requested everyone to meet in the prayer room."

"Is something wrong?" Hikari asked.

They all shook their heads, not knowing. "Maybe we have to move again," the third suggested. "But I haven't heard any gossip 'bout any battles nearby."

"We'll find out soon," Hikari said. "Let's go." She took charge and lead the little group down the hall. They exited one building and crossed the stoned pathway to another that appeared to be the main church. The entered the side of the church and walked across the front. They paused in front of the altar and genuflected at the front of the church where a marble statue of the Great Mother stood. After the few seconds of adoration, they retreated towards another exit that lead them to a short hallway. It connected to several rooms, one of them being the prayer room.

The church had been their first move after being forced from the convent into the safer parts of the country. They had stayed there for a few months already and were comfortable with their new home, but they weren't sure when they would have to up and leave again. It was inevitable in a time of turmoil, but they kept their prayers of hop alive.

The four girls were the last to arrive and quickly settled down in the empty chairs. The room was rather small, holding about twenty girls and five nuns and the abbess. The elder woman seemed to have caught Hikari's eyes as she sat timidly in her seat, holding the books on her lap. The girl could see the sadness and sympathy in her aged eyes and wondered why such emotions were present and was she directing it at her.

The abbess nodded to one of the nuns, who stepped forward and said, "There are good news for some of you. We have received letters from your families, and some of you will be able to return home." As soon as those words were announced, the girls began to rejoice among themselves at the news, but the older women quickly silenced them.

The women began to give out the letters while the abbess walked over to Hikari's side and gently gestured her out to the hallway. Hikari quietly slipped out from the crowd of happy girls to meet her fate. A nervous sensation brewed in her stomach, telling her it wasn't a good sign. She glanced back into the room, wondering why she had to leave. She didn't want to miss the letter when they called her name. She wanted to know the state of her parents.

Just the thought of her family, all sorts of questiong twirled in her head that linked to her isolation in the hallway from the others. The nervousness became a heavy, dreadful feeling as she stood beneath the abbess's tender gaze. The old woman put her wrinkled hands gently on girl's shoulders and spoke, "Hikari, please be strong with what I have to tell you."

Her body seemed to have shut down as she stood petrified with her shock, brown eyes staring right through the woman, but her mind knew immediately what those words meant. She just wanted to collapse on the floor in uncontrollable sobs, but she just stood there, letting the tears quietly flow from her eyes, as if her whole body was paralyzed from the implied information.

"Abbess," she managed to say as the woman took the heartbroken girl into her arms and stroked her hair.

From that moment on, Hikari kept to herself, becoming withdrawn as the shelter life she once had was falling apart around. As the days went by, she watched her friends from afar as each one left the convent and returned to their homes and families while she remained in an uncertain life.

Every night, her whimpers faded into the darkness as the soft breaths of slumber filled the room. The girl didn't know the elderly abbess had been watching and praying that the girl's mind would rest. The other girls were in a similar position as her, but they seemed to have recovered better and were moving on with their lives. Only this restless one had the abbess and the other nuns worried the most.

Both of her parents were dead, but her brother's condition was unknown. Everyone prayed that the siblings would reunite if it were possible. The woman clasped her hands together in prayer, "Please Lord, have mercy on young Hikari. Give her the strength and hope to live."


SQUIRE: To Be the Best
"OUWE, OUWE!!" he cried, trying to jerk his arm away from the big woman caring for his wounded arm. Her grip on his arm was so strong, he couldn't even budge an inch away. He continued to whine about the pain he was suffering from while she frowned at her pathetic patient. "MY ARM'S BURNIN'!!"

She rolled her eyes as she finished putting the antiseptic on and began to bandaged the wounded arm, which was nothing more of a long cut on the surface. How she wished she didn't have to babysit the young master of the house. The young brunette was nothing but an annoyance all her caretaking life when he always came home with bruises and cuts. "All done," she sighed.

He held his arm carefully as if it was just fall apart any second now and inspected her work, causing her to roll her eyes again. "Daisuke, it was ONLY a scratch," she said.

"Yeah, but I could've BLED to death," he complained, "Or I could get some disease and DIE!" He had already ignored the current injury and was tugging on his hair at the possibility of his death from the morning skirmish.

She let out another weary sigh, standing up with the first aid kit in her grasp. "I'm not planning on playing nurse again today, so take care of yourself." Before she left the room, she turned back to eye him seriously, "It would be best if you stay away from young Master Takaishi."

"Oh fine, Nanna!" he groaned, falling back onto his bed. "But I swear TA's gonna get it tomorrow!!" he said, sounding a bit confused afterwards, "Err, when I have a good plan of how to get back at him..."

Nanna was about to say something, but another desperate cry beckoned her, "NANNAAAAAAAAAAAAA!! I NEED YOUR HEEEEEEEEEEEEEELP!!" She glanced back at Daisuke who was mumbling something to himself and then turned towards the hallway, shaking her head. She needed to retire soon. If she didn't, then the two Motomiya children were going to be the cause of her death--if not, the end of her sanity (which was pretty much the same thing).

"Naaaah, he wouldn't fall for an old trick like that," Daisuke said to no one in particular. He rolled onto his stomach and rested his head over his arms, not able to think of anything for revenge, but soon he was on his back again, blinking at the bright sky out his window. He continued to stare at the empty blue with his mind filled in a blank state. It wasn't too long when his eyes started to droop, but he tried to stay awake, mumbling something about being the best knight in the world and kicking Takeru's butt.

To anyone who knew Daisuke well and if they walked into his room at that moment, they would feel strangely disturbed from his silence. But if they saw him snoring away on his bed seconds later, then they would realize it was just another ordinary day.

The young man was one energetic lad, and it wasn't any surprise when he could just collapse in his bed and sleep like there wasn't a care in the world. As much as they found his presence annoying at times, they had to admire his determination and strength when keeping his lively persona in action. He always seemed in spirit no matter what, especially when he competed against his childhood rival.

No one could ever figure out why the young Motomiya and Takaishi squires pitted against each other when their respective fathers were the best of friends back during their own childhood. It was quite a startling event for both families when they found the boys at the age of six in a mud fight, but everyone laughed it off as their way of friendship.

"Daisuke!" an older girl called with both hands on her hips, frowning at the sleeping form. From her appearance, one could immediately tell that the girl was in some way related to Daisuke. Her hair was of the same reddish-brown color, but at that moment, it was in its 'porcupine' state, sticking out in all directions.

"DAISUKE!" she called louder, reaching her hands out, and shook his body. It wasn't working, so she continued to shake him harder. "GET UP!"

"Go away, Jun," he snorted as if he was still asleep and rolled onto his side, so his back was facing her.

"Fine! You can sleep through dinner!" she said in a huff and headed for the exit, leaving her brother in dreamland.

He must've been very exhausted if he was skipping out on dinner, but then again he probably thought he was still dreaming. But he did eventually wake up even though it was only to relieve himself, and he was immediately back in his warm bed, snoring away till the next morning. For once he woke up on his own, and that nearly startled Nanna when she came into his room to get him up for the new day.

Daisuke sat up in bed, yawning, as he stretched his arms. When his eyes finally noticed Nanna staring wide-eyed at him, he smiled and greeted, "Mornin', Nanna!"

"Well," she finally said, looking somewhat curious, "this is a first. You're actually up early! And here I was about to be ever so kind and let you sleep for another minute." She shook her head, pushing the wonderment of such an event from her mind.

"Haha, very funny," he said, climbing out of bed. He stood still for a moment, looking out his window, and felt odd that not only was it not noon when he woke up but something in his body had dragged him from sleep. He couldn't hurt figure what the bothering feeling was, but it was something about that day that was going to change his life.

Nanna's voice snapped him back to reality. "Hurry up and clean yourself for breakfast," she ordered before disappearing from the doorway.

Minutes later (very short minutes), Daisuke hastily ran down the hallway, trying to tuck in his white shirt into his dark-brown pants, but unfortunately it ended with one side being tucked because he bumped into someone before he could look decently presentable. He fell on his bottom as he heard his sister's scream at the sudden collision, "AAAAAAH, DAI! Watch it!"

He got up, rubbing his precious bottom, and glared at her. "I'm late for breakfast, and it's all your fault!" she complained and then ignored him, heading for the stairs.

At the mention of breakfast again, Daisuke lurched after her. "HEY!! JUN! WAIT UP!! DON'T TAKE MY FOOD!!!" After practically flying down the staircase, he caught up with Jun at the entrance to the dining room and grabbed her arm, pulling her back so he could get through first. The girl wasn't going to give up so easily, and her hands quickly found its way to Daisuke's hair and tugged on it.

"DAI!" she screeched while Daisuke was trying to salvage his hair, "YOU KNOW LADIES SHOULD GO FIRST!!"

"WHAT LADIES?!!" he blurted back, "I DON'T SEE ANY LADIES 'ROUND HERE!!"

While they were arguing and fighting, the pair didn't realize there was an audience watching them: one being the lady of the house and the other was her guest that morning, who happened to be his rival's mother. "Daisuke! Jun!" their mother called, "Mind your manners!" She turned to her guest, shaking her head, "Please pardon their outrageous behaviors, Saria."

The bickering children soon calmed down after being embarrassed in front of a guest and shuffled quietly to their seats while the woman covered her mouth, laughing eloquently. "Oh no, I do not mind at all," she said, still chuckling a bit and hiding her own pain, "If only Takeru could experience such sibling affections." After her comment, Daisuke and Jun exhange glares, knowing well it wasn't any affections.

"Lady Saria, where's TE? Is he still sleeping?" Daisuke asked, wondering why the woman was in his home without her son tagging along. She laughed again at his silly error for her son's nickname, purposely pushing aside her hurting emotions.

"He has taken a trip," she said.

Daisuke and his mother looked at her with surprising expressions. "Oh?" her friend said, "This is so sudden. Takeru didn't mention anything yesterday. Right, Daisuke?" The brunette shook his head in reply, wondering what his rival was up. Was that the funny feeling he got that morning? If Takeru was gone, who would he tease and challenge now? What would he do every day until his friend and rival came back? How long was the trip? What was the purpose of the trip? Was he going out to prove himself as a better squire of the two?

"It was a last minute event," Saria said quietly, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. She didn't want to pursue the subject of Takeru's journey to find his brother--after all, it was a family affair. "He's growing up very fast, and an adventure will do him some good."

"Aah, I see," the other woman said, nodding, "Just like his father, experiencing the world. After that horrible war, it is good for him to personally see what the war has done to the land and its people. All of us should not take for granted our comfortable lifestyle and help those in need."

Saria could nod in agreement. "Don't you agree, Daisuke?" the woman asked, turning to her son, but was surprised that he was no longer present in the room. She looked at Jun, who shrugged her shoulders at the questioning glance of the boy's whereabouts, and faced Saria, who was as clueless as her friend. "Daisuke?" she called her son, getting up from her seat.

The three of them then heard footsteps running down the hallway towards the front of the manor. The sound of the door slamming echoed in the house, but a minute later, they heard it open again and an out of breath Daisuke appeared in the entrance way again, nearly scaring his mother.

He was carrying a big satchel of belongs on his back as he said rapidly, "MomI'mGonnaGoOnATripToo! BeBackLater!" After that sentence, his mother couldn't even get in a single word when he dashed off again. The door slammed shut a second time, and they waited, but Daisuke didn't return.


THIEF: Denying the World
With one foot propped upon a rock, the young man leaned forward over the cliff, staring blankly at the landscape below. A thin blade of grass dangled from his lips as he stood in silence. He enjoyed the gentle breeze that brushed against his skin and through his thick, golden hair.

After a while, he yanked the grass from his lips and threw it aside like the useless object it was. He turned around and walked over to a simple tombstone. He stood in front of the marked grave without looking at it, instead his deep, blue eyes roamed the tranquil cliffside. He later settled down next to the tombstone, leaning his back against it.

He closed his eyes and grinned at nothing in particular. The memories of his father came flooding back into his mind, but now the man was dead and laid in that very grave. "You always loved this place," he finally spoke, addressing the decease man. "Quite a nice view, but it's too quiet."

He had always enjoyed the quiet settings, but ever since his father's funeral, the silence among the thieves in mourning had pushed him to the limit. They allowed him to lock himself in his room and wallow in his loss, but he could still feel their sadness and pity, adding to his own depression. He had to get away from it all, so now here he was with his father again.

If that wasn't enough problems, he had to find out about his own birth and the mother he never knew. Anger filled his heart when he wrote the one-page letter to the woman who bore, cutting their relationship, but he knew that their bond could never be broken because he had her blood flowing in his own body.

He clenched his fists at that thought, gritting his teeth, and closed his eyes to lose himself in his own world where there was no one else but him. It was no use though as his blues eyes snapped open and glared at nothing in particular. He angrily punched the ground, ignoring the rough terrain that caused his fist to bruise and bleed. He didn't even flinch from the pain because all he could think about were the words of one of his men--the thief he had sent out to deliver the letters to his 'mother.'

"I've completed the assignment you gave me, boss," the thief said with a neutral expression. He watched the back of the young blonde standing by the window. From the still pose, one would've thought it was a statue of excellent workmanship.

"Yamato," his superior quietly said without turning around. The thief was for once confused until the blonde moved away from the window and looked at him. "I'm not my father, so just call me by my name." The thief only nodded, losing his confusion. He understood well because his father was only buried about three weeks ago, and the new position seemed inherit as he reluctantly took the leadership of these outcasts that had been his only family since birth.

"Well, anything else to report, Taka?" Yamato asked, brushing his hand through his thick, golden hair. He sat down in a chair behind his desk and ushered Taka to do the same. It may seem strange to see a young man order around a group of men around his father's age, but it was natural in their pack. Everyone looked up to the blonde's late father with upmost respect, and the son was no different, easily proving his abilities and himself to the others.

Taka seated himself in one of the side chairs in silence, gathering the right words to tell him. When Yamato read the letter his father had left behind, revealing the truth behind his birth, it was nothing more than a bombshell on his already rough life as the son of a thief. But now his mother was actually a noblewoman married to a well-known lancer of the neighboring kingdom.

He knew how it felt to be alone in this world, when he himself had lost everyone dear to him and almost his own life if it wasn't for Yamato's father. He had practically shun the whole world from him, and at that very moment, he could see the same thing happening to Yamato. They were already outcasts of society, living by thievery, and accepted their fates willingly, but to find out another half of his life had pushed the young man into hate and anger.

Yamato knew of having a half-brother, but he couldn't--and didn't--give a damn about that. But this was what Taka wanted to bring up. "The boy," the thief began, keeping his indifferent eyes ahead of him, "he reminds me of you."

The room was left in silence with Yamato's unreadable, blue eyes staring at the man. Taka brushed his hand against the opposite sleeve as if he was sweeping the dirt off and looked up at Yamato to see if he was being challenge of the statement's validity. They sat in a staring contest, and the longer Taka looked at the young blonde-haired, blue-eyed man, the more he swore that the Yamato and the Takaishi boy were brothers.

Yamato remained quiet through the whole ordeal, having not expected the man to even bring up his family affairs at all, but Taka broke the intense atmosphere with his calm voice, "Exactly like you."

"There you are!" a voice snapped Yamato out of his meditation. The blonde pulled his thoughts back to his current environment on the cliffside and stood up to see an old man walking towards him. "Of all the places, I'm not surprised you're here," he chuckled, sitting down on a nearby boulder to rest his aged legs.

"Hey gramps," Yamato greeted with a sly grin, "Am I worth all your troubles to hike up here?" He joined the old man on the boulder, and they sat in silence for a bit, allowing the new visitor to pay his respects to the dead.

The old man stood up and walked over to the cliffside, gazing at the beautiful view below. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, and when he exhaled, he turned around to Yamato. "You should see 'her'," he said.

Yamato didn't answer, looking else where instead. "Your father has always been like a son to me, and you were like my grandson," he said. "I don't want to see hate breaking up a mother and son, when it was love that brought you into this world."

"'Love'?" the blonde practically laughed out. He took a few seconds to calm down and stood up, clenching his fists, "You call it 'love' when she abandoned my father and me?! She returned to her luxurious life, not giving a damn 'bout neither of us! No letters, meetings, whatsoever!!" He stared at his father's grave with furious eyes, "I was angry at him too, but he's gone now. There's no point. But she..."

The man stood in front of Yamato, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Look, Yamato. Your mother had a life already set for her, married to a great man, but your father came appeared before her, sweeping her into uncertainty and an unpredictable love. It was her choice to love your father and to have you, so don't tell me it wasn't out of love.

"But in the end, she had already belonged to another," he sighed, remembering the scene of the lovers' parting. "If you should blame someone, then blame 'Destiny'." He pushed Yamato's contemplating form back onto the boulder before the new perspective could knock him off his feet. Still, the blonde didn't seem convinced of what the old man had observed almost two decades ago.

"Stubborn as ever," he mumbled. "Why don't you let her explain things from her side?" he suggested with a smile.

Yamato had consider the thought for the past few days. As much as he hated his mother for leaving him, there was still a part of him that longed to meet her, to see who she really was, and most of all to have her embrace her lost son.

"Dammit, gramps," the blonde shook his head after making his decision, "It's people like you with all their talk who gives me headaches, forcing me to take these damn vacations." The old man chuckled, not minding the playful insult at all. "But mind you, I haven't decided IF I'll see her," he said before stalking off.

The smiling man watched him leave, knowing well that the decision to see his mother wasn't an obstacle at all because in his heart, he WANTED to see her.


CHEMIST: For the Sake of Others
Late that evening, he could smell the wonderful aroma coming from the dining room as he hurried downstairs from dinner. He had to stop by the front store to see if his big brother was still out there, and as usual he was. "Brother," he called, poking his head in the entrance way, "It's time for dinner."

"Huh?" He looked up and turned to the voice that called him. "Oh hey Jyou. What is it?" he asked and quickly returned to his work too absorbed in his work.

Jyou sighed, knowing his brother just loved his work too much, "Ya know, Shin, a doctor needs to eat too."

"Yeah, be right there," he waved his hand in acknowledgment.

After their father had passed away a few years back, Shin had taken over the business, having carried on the family name with great success, and Jyou admired him for that, determined himself to become a good doctor too. And it appeared the Kido family had a long line of natural medics. Jyou laughed at the realization, causing Shin to stop what he was doing and stare at his brother oddly.

"Okay, I'll come now," he sighed, writing a few last memos in his book. "We have to put in another shipment of lavander and aseras tomorrow." Jyou nodded, but before the brothers could leave for dinner, a loud banging at the closed clinic beckoned them. Shin went to answer the door and found a middle-aged man looking ver desperate and out of breath at the steps. He gripped Shin's sleeve tightly, baring his white knuckles, wanting to speak but the lack of air was first priority to his body.

"Please calm down, sir," Shin tried to soothe the man, taking the man inside the clinic, while Jyou quickly came to them with a glass of water and gave it to the seated man. He graciously accepted the water and gulped it down, still gasping for air. The brothers exchanged short glances before turning their attention back to their unexpected visitor.

"My son," he managed to splutter out. "He needs help!! Please, doctor!!" he pleaded, almost dropping onto his knees to emphasize his distress.

Shin pulled him up to his feet. "Don't worry. I'll do whatever I can. Where's your house?" he asked, gesturing to Jyou to get his bag of equipments and medicine ready.

"Up by the mountains," he answered, causing looks of disbelief to cross the Kido brothers' faces. The mountains were at least an hour from the town by the fastest chocobo on land. "It's rather far, but I heard this is the town with the best doctor."

"All right," Shin patted the man's back, "we'll get some chocobos ready, but tell me your son's condition."

Jyou left the two to inform their mother of the emergency and hurried to the back stable and lead out two golden chocobos, ready to ride. It was only natural because there were times when Shin had to do some house calls like the one they were about to do, but never that far. He wondered how serious the boy was and hoped that his brother would be able to help the child--if it wasn't too late.

Jyou climbed onto one and still holding onto the reins of the second one, rode out to the front steps of the clinic, where Shin was waiting with the man on his own chocobo. Shin handed the medic bag to Jyou while he climbed onto his chocobo, and soon the three were off with the darkening skies looming overhead.

As expected, the rush trip took over an hour, forcing them a little ways up the mountain side where a small, poorly built house resided. It was not too far from a nearby village, but the area was too poor, and they didn't have an experienced doctor around. The man--came known to be Saitou--worked up in the mountains as a woodsman and partial hunter and had made their home there.

Saitou practically jumped off his chocobo when they reached the house. Shin knew the urgency of a relapsed fever at its peak and hurried after him with Jyou trailing not too far behind, leaving the chocobos to themselves. Saitou announced their arrival to his wife as the three men busted the door down. The woman came out from the next room with her face stained with dried tears and embraced her husband while Shin and Jyou rushed into the bedroom.

The boy tucked in bed was definitely burning with a fever, but the tint of purple of his upper arms and just faintly on his face and neck gave way to poison seriously spreading. He checked the child's body for signs of a bite, and surely he found one on the inside of his left ankle. Saitou noticed and spoke up, "Shortly after we treated the snake bite, he came down with the fever. After a few days, we thought it was gone until this morning."

"I have the medicine for the fever," Shin said as Jyou went through the medic bag and found the bottom. He handed it to his brother. "But the poison isn't completely out of his system. Unfortunately I didn't anticipate this," he examine the bite and the reaction of the skin more closely. He was glad it wasn't a rare poisonous bite, but since he didn't have any antidotes, he would have to work with nature and mixed a batch from scratch.

"What can we do, doctor?!" Saitou inquired, his voice quivering as he held his crying wife against him.

"There's a plant called 'Artemis Leaf' that can cure this," he said.

"It's usually found growing on rocky terrain, like cliffs or mountains," Jyou added, knowing his brother's intention. "Rather dangerous to get, but I'll go find it." He checked himself before heading for the exit.

Shin nodded, "Be careful. It's getting dark out there."

Parting from his wife, Saitou announced, "I know the mountains, so I'll guide you there." Jyou nodded, and the two departed from the others, taking lanterns and ropes, and armed themselves just in case they ran into anything or anyone out there.

The night overwhelmed the pair trudging up the mountain side. Holding the lantern, Saitou lead Jyou to an easily accessed cliffside that usually had all sorts of plants stemming from the rocky crevices in the daytime. It wasn't a difficult climb down, but it was better to be safe with the rope around Jyou's waist as Saitou securely held onto the other end, lowering the young man down.

Nervous at not having to do this before, Jyou slowly descended with one hand holding the lantern out to search for the herb while the other clutch the earth for dear life. It didn't take long as he browsed through the many plants until he found one with the recognizable white flower. "I FOUND IT!!" Jyou shouted happily, plucking a few from its roots and tucked them within his shirt. He hooked the lantern onto his belt and proceeded to climb up, having managed not to look down through the ordeal.

The trip back up was a breeze with Saitou's help, but when Jyou threw is body over flattened the ground, they heard footsteps heading there way. Jyou gave his companion a questioning look, but the latter shook his head, not certain who was out at this time. Their answer came soon enough in the guise of five men, looking nothing of kind and gentle.

"You boys doin' out pretty late, eh?" the plump man grinned as one of the men shone their light upon their victims.

"They must be bandits," Saitou whispered lowly to Jyou, who grabbed something from behind his back. He observed the five carefully in the light source that they had, certain that they would be armed.

"I really don't care what yer doin' out here," the group leader continued, "but just give us your valuables, and we'll let you live."

"We have nothing of value," Saitou said. "I'm a poor woodsman around here. We're just getting a plant to save my son."

"How touching," the man said sarcastically, and Jyou fumed, seeing him roll his eyes with his remark.

Jyou silently cursed his luck, pulling the 'Artemis Leaf' from his pocket, and gave it to Saitou who looked at him in surprise. "You have to get back and save your son," he whispered back. The man hesitated, but in the end, the life of his son was more important, and he didn't argue. Jyou smiled faintly, trying to ease the man's thoughts, "Tell my brother I'll be back for a late dinner, so he better not take my portion."

"Didja hear me?!" the bandit demanded. "Hand us everything you have!"

Saitou nodded to Jyou, having no other choice. "All right," he said, revealing his weapon, "When I tell you to, go for it, okay?"

"Yer makin' this difficult on yer part," another man said, and the two could see them carefully closing in.

Jyou drew his gun into the air and fired at one of the men's leg, wounding him, while the other flung themselves to the dirt, as more shots rang over their heads. "NOW!!" he ordered, and Saitou rushed down the uneven land to the far right which had a good distance between him and the bandits. He escaped easily thanks to Jyou's distraction and kept running until he could no longer hear the foul language in the air.

Jyou spotted a large boulder and ducked behind it, reloading his gun. He was breathing hard, and his heart beat was pounding like crazy, wondering how he was going to escape this and get his dinner. And he was regretting not grabbing something when he left home.

"Come outta there, you f**kin' bastard!"

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" Jyou yelled, "I'VE GOT NOTHING ON ME!!"

"Oh ho ho," he laughed, "Not after that little stunt you pulled."

It was silent again, but he could hear the footsteps spreading all around him, and the sweat dripping down the side of his face increased, knowing that he couldn't fight off all five of them. He wasn't a sharp shooter like his brother, and his senses weren't good enough to make out his opponents' positions. He took in a deep breath, and when he exhaled, he just went with it, knowing it was very unlike him.

Rolling out from his shelter, Jyou started shooting at the first person he saw, but he missed his target as a bandit lunged at him, knocking him back. Pain seered through his body when the knife stabbed into his side. Using the butt of the gun, he smashed against the culprit's head and kicked him away. Jyou staggered backwards, clutching onto his bleeding wound.

He didn't realize his even more dangerous position until it was too late as his foot slipped off the edge of the cliff, and he fell backwards into the darkness.


ARCHER: Shooting the Dream
She walked into the beige tent and stood a few meters from the entrance, letting her hazel eyes wander around the cramped space filled with various-sized boxes. Her thin lips protruded into a slight pout as she placed her hands on her hips, tapping her foot in deep thought. She looked from one end to the other once more, searching for a familiar crate. She sighed, walking over to a stack, "Geeze, how am I suppose to look for her knives through this junk?!"

A voice from outside called her, "MIYAKO!! HAVE YOU FOUND THEM YET?!!"

Irritated, she shouted back, "STILL LOOKING!! YA KNOW, YOU SHOULD LABEL YOUR OWN STUFF!!"

"WHATEVER!" came the response.

Miyako shrugged her sister's usual answer aside and began to go through the accessible boxes, opening them up, and when it wasn't the right one, she closed it and went through another. Just because she was the youngest of the four Inoue siblings, she was ordered around like a servant, but then again they could boss around any of their younger cousins if they wanted to.

She really didn't mind the chores and errands, but they should consider doing their share in the family business. Besides that, Miyako was missing precious practice time. She groaned and collapsed on the ground in frustration, knowing that she had about three hours before people would gather and their performance began.

She had been traveling with her large, extended family ever since she was born, entertaining people of all walks of life. She loved her lifestyle, roaming across the land without any attachments, but sometimes she would daydream about venturing on her own--for once be selfish in her own desires. Whenever she thought about it, her mind would always come back to her family, especially her father.

Even though her siblings ordered her around, they knew very well that Miyako played an important role in the famiy troupe of entertainers. Ever since her father's accident with a chocobo during one show, he wasn't able to ride again and perform the Inoue's exhilarating archery demonstration. It was one of the best exhibits of the entire show that drew many customers, and of all the Inoue family members, Miyako seemed to be the most promising one to inherit the talent. She carried on her father's work with great pride and ease, and it wouldn't surprise anyone if she would later on surpass her father too.

Miyako then noticed some chests stacked improperly and went to straighten them out, only to find that the wooden case beneath the pile had a familiar latch. She groaned, knowing she should've expected her sister to carelessly misplace them with their undergarmets area. She opened the box to make sure that all ten daggers were there or else her sister would have a swell time shouting everyone's head off.

Having what she was looking for, Miyako left the tent of equipments and whatnot and grabbed a bow and a quiver of arrows just outside the exit. She carried the quiver diagonally on her back, strapping it over her right shoulder while the bow just hung over her left one as she walked pass a few more similar tents until she reached a large, double tent propped up at the far end of their campsite. She entered the open entrance and strolled over to an older girl, brushing a golden chocobo in its pen. There were several other chocobos in separate pens that were responsible in transporting the family's carts and carriages of equipments and supplies from place to place.

"Hey Chizuru," she called, "I found them." The girl turned around as Miyako showed her the case.

"Great!" she chirped and immediately opened it. "Oh my precious babies are all here!"

Miyako rolled her eyes, shaking her head at the remark. She left her sister alone with her daggers and walked over to her favorite chocobo at the second to last pen. "Hi Bliz," she cooed, brushing her face against her soft feathers. The creature answered with a happy 'wark', nuzzling her beak against her owner's arm.

She had known 'Blizzard' ever since she was six, practically raising the chocobo herself, but the caretakers were usually her uncles and cousins, who were also in charge of breeding them too. And from one of the recent breeds back then, Blizzard grew up along side with Miyako, and the pair became an inseparable team in the fields of entertainment. The friendship didn't come easily because Blizzard was a rather difficult chocobo to tame when it didn't like the presence of humans near it--hence her name--but little Miyako never gave up on befriending it.

"I'm taking Bliz out for practice," she informed her sister, who just waved it off, too busy with preparing the other chocobos. Miyako opened the pen and saddled her friend up for a short break from being cooped up in the tent. Blizzard knelt down, allowing the girl to easily climb onto her back. "Let's ride!" she cheered, and Blizzard didn't hesitate to rush out open fields.

The pair dashed by a group of men assembling a stage by a grove of trees, and Miyako informed them of her practice. A young man paused and shouted to her, "Change of schedule, Miya-chan! You'll be the first act instead of Momo-chan!"

"Okay!" she called back, "And tell Momoe she owes me, brother!" He waved her off and returned to his work while his little sister and her chocobo disappeared to the practice fields, which would be the same place she would perform. Several targets were already set up within a large fenced area to keep the spectators out and safe, and the weather was perfect for the afternoon show. The Inoue family traveled to so many places, not a single town wouldn't know about the talented troupe.

Blizzard slowed down as she passed through the gates, and Miyako was holding the reins in one hand while the other had a strong grip on the bow. She gently pulled back, causing the golden creature to stop on the spot. "Okay Bliz, it's the same, ol' routine," she informed her partner, who warked in comprehension, as she pulled on a pair of tan, leather gloves. Being together and going through the same act for so long, she would understand.

Miyako pulled an arrow from the quiver and prepared it against the bow. With a short cry and a gentle kick to Blizzard's side, the chocobo sped off towards one of the target as the girl waited until the right moment came to get the aim in. The arrow snapped from her gloved fingers, spinning through the air until it hit the red circle on the target.

After the hit, Blizzard slowed down while the girl tilted her head to the side, staring at the target. "We really should update it," she sighed. "Hmm, maybe if we hit five in one run? What do you think, Bliz? It'll definitely surprise everyone--even dad!" She laughed and checked the number of arrows she had with her. A perfect five was left just for her.

Blizzard trotted off to one end of the field and was set to execute Miyako's new idea. The girl had the first arrow ready, keeping her body at a slight angle since her chobobo would be zipping straight to the other end of the field. She could feel the adrenaline churning in her body, and it would be needed at that crucial moment when speed was necessary to get the act perfect. The grip around the bow handle was too tight, and she knew she had to relax--at least her mind had to.

She wondered how she would react under pressure in front of a crowd if her forehead was already sprinkled with sweat, somewhat afraid of a possible failure, just during the practice run. She wiped the sweat from her face with the back of her gloved hand and took a few deep breathers, mentally scolding herself for being stupid. She had been doing this many times before, but just this once, she was experimenting with five separate shots into one run.

"If I don't try, I'll never achieve my dreams," she said quietly. If she could get pass this trial, then she could definitely get to her dreams all on her own. With great determination, she raised the bow into the air, ready to shoot. "LET'S GO!" she shouted, and Blizzard zipped across the field.

Her calm mind and her vigorous body seemed to be like two separate entities yet they worked together as one arrow after another flashed through the air until all five were used. The exercise was complete, and Miyako pulled on the reins to get Blizzard to backtrack to observe the outcome. And it was only natural that the five arrows found their targets in the central, red circles (because the writer likes to exaggerate and it's fanfiction).

The feeling was wonderful, accomplishing such an outrageous feat, but then again, anything was possible if you just believe and try. She held her hand to her chest, feeling her heart still racing from the excitement. "Is this... the feeling one would get from an adventure?" she pondered.

Sure, her life was always on the road, but to be out in the world on her own would be different than an every day life performing shows with her family. She didn't want to be just a name people would know about and never meet outside her family business life. She was supposed to be out there, showing the world who Miyako Inoue really was.

"The wind is calling my name!" she announced, laughing in the presence of a curious Blizzard. And then her stomach growled (definitely not the wind), so she had to return to her daily life for food until her dream resurfaced again.


WIZARD: Memories of Shadows
He sat at the kitchen table, staring blankly at the bowl of soup before him. With the spoon between his fingers, he prodded the pieces of vegetables swimming in the liquid as if he was doubting the taste, but his mind couldn't care less about the food. Shifting his gaze from his meal, he looked around the dining room attached the kitchen, where his mother was content in the household chores.

Nothing seemed to have changed much from his mother busying herself with the house to his father working at townhall. Nothing at all... except for the fact that their family no longer consists of four members, but three instead.

"Ken? Is something wrong?" his mother asked, having turned around to find him staring off into space. He looked at her, blinking his thoughts away. "You've been very quiet today," she said, walking over to him. She laid a hand on his forehead for any signs of health problems. Her eyes dropped onto the uneaten soup. "Are you feeling all right, sweetie? You haven't touch the food at all."

He shook his head, giving her a faint smile, and finally took a spoonful of the soup to ease her worries. "I'm just not hungry," he said, gently squeezing her hand to reassure her of his healthy condition.

She nodded, and he watched her clear the table away. "It's good to have you here, sweetie. You should come home more often!"

"I know, mom, but sometimes I'm stuck at the academy with too much work," he explained. He regretted those words when his mother paused shortly in her trek to the kitchen counter with a soft sigh escaping her lips. The mention of Millain Academy brought back sad memories for the family, but he didn't want to think about it.

"I haven't had your homemade pie in a month, mom," Ken tried to cheer her up, "Do you think you could..." She twirled around and gave me a sweet smile, but behind her eyes were all the tears and sadness she held inside.

"Of course, sweetie! I'll just have to head to the market for the ingredients!" After she set the bowls and plates on the counter, she began to take off the apron. "Why don't you join me? We could visit the old places--some have changed quite a bit."

"Maybe another time. There's still a few things I have to do before I leave tomorrow." She only nodded, knowing that he would rather be alone than conversing with the townspeople.

After she disappeared from sight and the front door closed with a squeak, Ken left the kitchen and quietly walked around the house, slowly reminiscing on the old days when his older brother was still around. It wasn't any good memories to begin with since the two never got along, and contempt for each other just filled their hearts. At least that was one thing they would admit of having in common besides being related, and also being young, talented mages.

Ken would've never thought of following his brother's footsteps and become one of the best black mages of Millain Academy if he hadn't died five years ago. When he was still alive, his presence loomed over everyone, making them feel inferior to his intelligence and power. And even in death, he left quite a huge impression on all of them, mainly in Ken who was now left in the deceased man's shadows to fulfill the void in his parents' lives.

He sighed, trying to shake the ghostly images of the young man from his mind, but it would never work as if his spirit was attached to him. He stood at the bottom of the stairs, staring at his empty hands, like they weren't his own. His dark eyes widened like he had just realized something or had awaken from a deep sleep, and he shook his head, clutching his hands to the side. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME?!!" he shouted like a madman and rushed up the steps.

The house was empty of all persons except for him, yet there was a haunting aura lurking about. Was it the ghost of his brother missing his home? Or was he still around to torture Ken endlessly? Or was it just his imagination from the fear in his heart? Fear... Fear of becoming the person he hated all his life.

"No... I'm Ken," he mumbled, leaning against the door of a bedroom, "Not Osamu... Ken... Not... Osamu... Ken... Osamu..." He continued the confused mantra, lost in his own identity. Since the day of the news of Osamu's death, Ken's life had ended right then because he had no reason to live in hate. But the guilt of hate was unbearable like it had been his own fault for his brother's death. And that very day, he had accepted Osamu's personality, dreams, and life... becoming a stranger to himself.

He stumbled into the room in a dazed state, no longer able to take on the false image. He couldn't run from the truth and hide behind a dead persona to avoid what wasn't his fault to begin with, but his parents' sorrow was a reminder of the past that he couldn't let go.

He looked around the tranquil room, absorbing every single detail from the various sized textbooks on the shelves to the wrinkled covers of the bed. The curtains were drawn back to allow the sunlight in, even though the owner of the room would never return again.

Ken climbed to his feet and slowly walked over to the desk in the corner and hovered over it like he was the dead Osamu visiting his room for the last time. He lightly caressed the wooden surface with his fingers, brushing a trail through the heavy layer of dust that had accumulated over the years. He had been right: the room was left exactly the way it was five years ago. It was just too painful for his parents to enter the room, and he never bothered with it either... until now.

His eyes wandered over to the pile of books to the right side of the desk, appearing like something had interrupted Osamu in the middle of his studies. For some reason, Ken reached out to the books and carried them over to their rightful places on the bookshelf. One by one, he put them up as if he was under some sort of spell, but his eyes soon unglazed when the letterings of a book caught his eyes, standing out from the other texts about black magic.

He flipped through a few pages, finding the materials and words very ancient, and in between two of the pages was a thick envelope without its contents nor the name of the sender or receiver (but it was most likely Osamu). He held the envelope tightly between his fingers as his expression became very grave, frowning at the item in his hand.

Ken was quite young when his brother left home to study at Millain Academy, so during the times he didn't come home, he was assumed studying at the academy. But here was the young Ichijouji holding onto an empty envelope with a broken seal of royalty on the back. Their family had no ties with any royalty nor high officials, so why did Osamu have something from the king or the royal court?! It just didn't make sense... unless there was more to the young man than he and his family knew about.

He glanced at the envelope and then at the text in his other hand, beginning to doubt the message given them five years ago. "He died," he spoke just above a whisper, "and we just accepted it..." So many questions cycled in his head about the past, but there was one that shocked him the most, concerning his brother, "... without a body..."


MONK: Worthy Outcast
She carefully creased the paper in half and tucked it safely beneath the unlit lamp by her mother's bedside. After taking one last look at the woman's sleeping form, she turned away with a strained face and left the room, quietly closing it after her departure. Her feet treaded softly across the wooden boards as she tied a cloth bundle of her belongs to her back.

When she stepped out of her home, she glanced at the small building once more before throwing a black cloak over her emerald outfit, clinging tightly to her figure. In the slumbering darkness, she took off towards the edge of village, never looking back because it was all going to be the past until she could prove to everyone that the only lies that ever existed were in their hearts.

Her father--the face of the man she never saw even after her birth--was not a traitor!

One's childhood was a precious time to treasure forever, but she would only remember her childhood as a time of loneliness and ridicule from the other children. The abuse had scarred her for life, but because of it, she swore to become stronger and never to show her weaknesses to her enemies. Perhaps she should've thanked them for their 'kindness' because she grew up to be the best warrior out of her generation.

How ironic life was.

She would always sit alone just outside her house, watching the children of the village playing together. Even though they sometimes glanced her way, their expressions were nothing of kindness. They kept their distance from her as if she was some sort of plague, and she noticed that most of the adults hardly socialize with her mother either. She wasn't any different than they were, so why were they mean to her and her mother?

A ball suddenly flew towards her, bouncing into her yard, and a few of the children ran after it until they stopped meters from the enclosed fence as if fearing for their lives. She stood up and walked to the ball. After picking it up, she thought about asking them if she could play too, but an older boy angrily ran to her and grabbed the toy from her hands. He then shoved her to the ground, yelling, "TRAITOR!!" He took off with the other children following as they threw back dirty looks at her.

She was too young to understand what the word meant, but for some reason, she sat up from the ground, glaring after them through her invisible tears. She gritted her teeth, telling herself not to cry from their abuse or from the minor scraps on her palms. She wouldn't let them be happy to see her in pain, even if she didn't know why they always treated her like a disease.

She wiped her dirty hands against her loose pants and pushed herself from the ground, sniffling quietly. She brushed her hand against her face as if to dry her face from tears and entered her house, heading towards the kitchen where she could hear the water running.

When she appeared in the kitchen, her mother turned around to her and found herself torn apart at her heartbroken, five-year-old daughter. "Oh Sora!" she called, rushing to the girl's side, and took her into her arms. "It's all right, sweetie!!"

Sora buried her head into her mother's chest, finding great comfort in her warm embrace. "Why don't they like me, mommie?" she cried, "Why are they so mean to me? It really hurts. They keep calling me 'traitor', mommie... I don't know what it means, but it has to be bad... They keep hurting me... Why? I don't want to be a 'traitor'!"

The woman closed her eyes, knowing very well of the painful emotions going through the child, but she was just to young to understand it all. But for now, she could only comfort her. "Listen to me, Sora," she said, pulling her daughter back so their eyes could meet, "You have to be strong. Don't listen to what anyone says. You're not a traitor, and you're father was not a traitor."

"Papa?" the girl questioned, rubbing her eyes.

"Yes, your father was a great man! There's no one else in this world who understands your father like I do... and you're his wonderful child, Sora, and he loves you very much--just I like do. Please never lose faith in him. It doesn't matter what the world thinks of him--all he wants is his daughter to believe in who he is."

"I believe in papa!!" she cried with her small hands clutching her mother's blouse tightly. "I believe in him!! He's not a bad person because mommie's a good person, so he's good too! But where is he? Why isn't papa here with us?"

"It's very hard to explain, but I will tell you when you get older and become strong just like him." The girl nodded. "I promise."

Her mother did keep her word, and just a few weeks ago when Sora proved herself in the village's annual fighting competition. It was only natural she was champion since her mother was one of the best fighters of their practically extinct Amazon Tribe. Even after earning a prestige status, the villagers continued to keep their distance from her, but along with hate in their eyes was fear--afraid of her potential.

It pained her deeply to see this new emotion burning within them, but she had ignored them and ran to her mother like many years ago, hoping to find consolation in her words and embrace. Keeping the promise, the woman sat her teenaged daughter down and related the whole story of how she encountered her father to the downfall of their clan.

The Amazon Clan used to be quite a large group of powerful monk warriors, excelling in hand-to-hand combat and spiritual enlightment, but over the centuries, the clan dwindled down only to a few because people began to fear their power and strength. And when the Gennai Wars were in the prime years, orders were given out to eliminate all of the Amazons in fear of a huge wave of retalition with the group's support.

Whatever was left of the tribe had gathered at the very village they lived in, enclosed in the deep Forests of Leria, where the mazes and illusions of the greens protected them from outsiders. It became their last refuge from the ignorant world.

But before the downfall, her mother once encountered a young knight who defeated her in match, and according to Amazon laws that were strictly enforced upon every generation, she was to marry the man who overpowered her. This law ensured the Amazons to produce strong offsprings to continue to the name of the ancient tribe. By marrying an Amazon woman, he was automatically considered family, but even if the marriage was by Amazon law, there was no denying the attraction of the pair. Love eventually blossomed, and Sora was conceived from it.

When the news of pregnacy was announced to the tribe, they were soon under attack from the enemies. The women and children were the first to evacuate while the men fended the invading soldiers. The tribe fell back into Leria Forests and found themselves their ever since. The remaining men who returned from the battles survived with threatening injuries, but what startled everyone was the information that Sora's father had been a spy for the armies.

They couldn't accuse her mother of the set actions of another person, yet it was her husband that had caused the many deaths of their tribe. She couldn't forgive herself, but in heart, she wouldn't believe that her husband had betrayed her and the clan--if only she could've seen him once more, to hear it directly from him. And that was Sora's main reason for leaving her home.

Sora was long gone from her home in the forests and was now running through the town port near the waters with the sun ascending into the skies for a new day--a start of her journey. She had put all her energy into making it to the harbor to board any ships for her search.

She wanted to find her father if he was still alive. She wanted to know the truth. Everyone except for her mother had strong feelings against him, and even she was beginning to doubt her faith in him... No, she had to stay strong and believe in him! She had promised herself to clear his name, proving their worth to her people, and punish those who had caused so much pain and sorrow through their lies and deceit.


ORACLE: Imperfections of Man
The young man paced back and forth in the study, wearing most of the red carpet out by now. He had been in a nervous state since his father left that morning towards the royal palace for a meeting with the king and Council. He wished he could attend, but the matter was of the country in relation to the others after the end of the Gennai Wars, so having his teenaged self there only spite the members of the Council.

He sighed and took a break from his worriment in front of the bay window, staring out to the front gates below. His father would be back soon after seven days, like he had promised, and then they would discuss the country's situation further.

As young as he was, his father thought highly of him ever since he accompanied the man to the royal court two years ago, in preparation for one of the climatic battles of the war. Despite his hatred towards violence, he had joined his father and others in planning the battle in hopes of soon ending the pointless war. And it was then that he openly expressed his feelings to the king about how much the people have suffered and even predicted that the war wouldn't last for another two years.

The majority merely entertained his predictions, but his father had faith in his son's words. Although they didn't mind the boy tagging along, his voice was still heard through his father's reasoning since the man was a close advisor to the king even though he was only a scholar--but a scholar of history, who analyzed the ways of the old system in governing and such. This was an advantage to the king that allowed him favor among his subjects.

He turned around when he heard the door creak open, followed by a voice, "Koushiro?" The door opened wider, and a middle-aged woman stepped into the room, carrying a tray of tea and sweets. "Honey, you've waited all morning. I'm sure he'll be home soon." She set the tray down on the table and walked over to her son. "Come, even a young scholar needs to eat," she said, coaxing him over to the snack.

He smiled and obediently followed her. The mother and son sat down and began to dine. During that time, they chatted about the nice weather and the events that were expected to occur around the town with the harvest month approaching.

Sipping the warm tea, her eyes wandered across the table and caught several books laying open. She picked up a green-bounded one and read the underlined sentence, "'Authority without wisdom is like a heavy axe without an edge, fitter to bruise than polish.' Hmm, something your father would agree on."

Koushiro smiled as she handed the book to him. "It's a rather interesting book in its discussion on the evolution of man, from knowledge to power. It tends to be pessimistic on the human nature: greed provokes man to wage war." He paused, folding the corver of the page and closed the book. "It's very nerving to think in such a way, but that is the reality we face about ourselves."

She nodded slightly and stood up. He watched her walk over to the window as she spoke calmly, "Reality may be dark and cruel at times, but you must remember, Koushiro, of a little thing call 'hope'." She turned around to face him and waved a hand towards the shelves of books, "You can read all the books in the world and have the knowledge of centuries, but nothing compares to the wisdom gained through experience." She returned to his side, graciously taking small steps, until she stood in front of him.

She smiled down to him like the gentle mother she was and placed a hand over his chest, where his heart laid. "Nothing can compare to what is here." She drew away as he sat there and contemplate on her words.

He had to agree that it was a part of human nature to be idealistic of the world, but he, on the other hand, had always been practical. In a time when suffering and sorrow loomed over the people, it was their faith and hope that kept them going. The perseverance of the heart is one amazing thing. Perhaps he should understand life rather than seek the endless knowledge of the world.

Suddenly, the door burst opened, and a servant rushed in, breathing heavily. "MY LADY!" he huffed out, "An army of about 100 soldiers have entered the city and are heading this way!"

"What?!" Koushiro stood up abruptly, knocking over his cup of tea. "Father didn't leave with that many. Did you see him with the soldiers?"

He shook his head, "I'm not sure, but someone said they saw Shue among them."

"Just Shue? This doesn't make sense."

"Well," his mother began, "we will not know by sitting here." She made her way for the door as the servant stepped aside to let her through. Koushiro immediately followed her. The trio descended the grand staircase that winded down to the open hall. Two different servants opened both front doors for the lady of the house and her son, and just as they stepped outside, the horde of soldiers passed through the gates of the Izumi compound.

Following the army, the crowds of curious citizens watched the scene unfold, but the head commander ordered half the soldiers to fall back and keep them away. He then continued down the pathway up to the steps of the mansion and halted his troop with a raise of his hand. He stepped forward and took his helmet off before a slight head bow to Lady Izumi.

Koushiro studied the clean-shaven man with his hair sleeked back and the stern face of a thirty-year-old. Nothing was outstanding with the man, and Koushiro found him rather harmless, but it was the younger man to his right that bothered him. He narrowed his eyes a bit, suspicious of the smirk on his face. The eyes were slits of dark-green as he eyed each person of the Izumi household.

He tried to push his thoughts of the man aside, but only succeeded in doing so when he recognized Shue, his father's attendant farther back with two soldiers on either side of him.

"I am Commander Ichirou," the older man announced, "I have been ordered to escort Sir Shue here."

"Where is my father?" Koushiro impatiently cut in, noting the smirk growing wider on the other man's face, and he didn't like it.

The man gave a small wave to the commander, as if brushing him aside, and stepped forward, introducing himself, "My name is Shao Fei, part of His Majesty's Research Council."

"Research Council?" Koushiro repeated in bewilderment. Not only was he unfamiliar and confused on the council, but the name of 'Shao Fei' didn't ring a bell either. He knew all of his father's friends and even mere acquaintances. The man was very suspicious indeed, but Koushiro was more worried for his father's safety. "I haven't heard of such a thing, and what research is this? Does my father have anything to do with this?"

Instead of answering his questions, Shao directed the conversation to Lady Izumi, "If you would be so kind, My Lady, to have this conversation inside?"

"Certainly, sir," she smiled politely, gesturing him inside. Before Koushiro followed them in, he noted the commanded had quietly ordered his soldiers to be posted around the mansion. Shue was released, and Koushiro immediately pulled him aside.

"Is father all right?" he asked.

Shue nodded, "He's fine, but the king has detained him at the castle. I'm not sure of what went on, but I overheard something about a 'Crest'."

"A 'Crest'? Hmm, it probably has something to do with this Research Council," he said quietly, trailing behind his mother and Shao a good distance. They entered an empty gathering room, where a huge mural of colored glass decorated the front wall. Everyone seated themselves at the rectangular table, and the commander came in, closing the door after his entrance.

"As I have said before," Shao began, "I am with the Research Council. The research is on..." He paused, wondering how to phrase his next words. "Well, let me ask you this: you have heard about the 'Legend of the Crests of Destiny', haven't you?"

"The 'Crests of Destiny'?" Lady Izumi looked puzzled, but she nodded her head, a little uncertain, "I vaguely remember if from my childhood. But it was only a legend."

"Legend or not, we will clarify this when we have the Crests."

"I don't know understand."

"It is not for you to understand, My Lady," he frowned, and Koushiro didn't like the rude tone he used on his mother. "It is believe that one of these Crests resides in this home. His Majesty has ordered Lord Izumi to hand it over to us. Unfortunately, he has denied any knowledge or possession of it." He clasped his hands together and leaned forward menacingly, "But I find that hard to believe."

Koushiro stood up, pounding the table top, "How reliable are your sources on this information, Shao-san? You should not base your conclusions on mere rumors. And even if we do have a Crest, why would we hide anything from His Majesty? The Izumis have been loyal to the royal house for many generations."

Shao leaned back into his chair, throwing an amused look in Koushiro's direction. "Aah, the young Izumi I've heard so much about. Like father like son, I must say. But as for your questions, little one, it's true your household as served His Majesty with great loyalty, but over time, things change. And people are no exception. We are only mortals, the creation of God's power, molded in His likeness YET with imperfections."

"Shao-san, you make our existence seem loathsome," Lady Izumi interrupted. "Aren't our imperfections what makes each of us who we are? If we were all like God, in every way, then our lives would not have greed and war, pain and sorrows. If we never experience the dark side of life, we would not know of the preciousness of life itself."

The man chuckled, "Yes yes, you are correct, My Lady. But we should discuss these philosophical matters another time. The longer we delay the search for the Crest, the longer your husband is a guest at the castle."

"Very well," she said. "Even if I had protested in the search, you would only deject my words and forcefully turn this place into chaos."

"A wise woman, you are," he chuckled. "Commander, have your troops begin the search. Don't overlook any holes and cracks." The commander nodded and left the room, and Shao turned back to the mother and son, "And it is best if you remained here for the rest of the day." He stood up and left the room, but right after his departure, two soldiers entered for guard duty.

Having strict orders not to overlook anything, it took the soldiers most of the day to get through half the compound, including the storage houses in the back, the stables, and several buildings. The end of the day soon fell upon them, but Shao wouldn't let them rest. During that time, Koushiro and his mother remained quiet, with the two soldiers present, even until dinner.

The maids brought any the food, and Lady Izumi turned to the soldiers and said, "Why don't you join us?" The pair looked at one another, wanting to accept the kindness, but they were soldiers on duty and shouldn't be distracted.

"At least have a drink," a maid insisted and poured each of them a cup of wine. She smiled as she served them. And with just one drink wouldn't hurt, they rationalized. After one cup, it was so addicting, and the maid happily poured one after another until they were drunk.

"Thank you, Saya," Lady Izumi smiled. The young woman nodded and left, closing the door securely after her leave.

Koushiro had seen the mischievous smile his mother wore. "Mother, you had Saya purposely get them drunk?" She nodded, pushing her uneaten food aside, and stood up. "What are we going to do?" he asked, watching walk towards the mural of glass.

"Come here, sweetie," she beckoned him to her side. They stood there in silence until she spoke again, "Perhaps it wasn't legend." He looked at her if she had grown an extra head on the spot. Her hand reached up to a violet glass and caressed the surface with great care. Then her fingers traced around the edge and pressed hard against the filled plaster that held the glasses together.

Koushiro watched in awe as the plaster sunk inwards, revealing what he had thought was just glass. His mother held the round, violet stone in her hand for him to see clearly. "There is a reason your father kept it from the king. If the twelve Crests are gathered, whoever possesses them will have immense power. From the legend, you should know how much destruction they can cause--even if it was to destroy the demon, it sacrificed many lives."

He nodded, understanding the grave situation. "If the king had them, it would only start another war."

"That is why you must leave before they discover it," she said. He looked at her appalled at such a suggestion. She took his hand and placed the stone in it. "There is no time to object, Koushiro. For your father, for the future of this land, you have to take it out of here." She pulled him along to the far right end of the mural and pressed another violet glass. Part of the mural pushed back and revealed a small passageway.

"We were lucky they left us here," she commented. "After you leave the city, go find your friend, Taichi Yagami. We haven't heard anything of him after the war, but I have a feeling he's still alive. Find him, and I'm sure everything will be all righ."

"Why Tai, mother?"

"His father also had a Crest." Before he could say anything else, his mother shoved him into the dark passageway. "Don't worry about me and the others. They won't dare do a thing to us. Take care, my son." That was the last thing he heard when the wall closed again, and he was in darkness.



Most of chapter one has been edited, but it is finally complete. Here are the parts to Chapter Two, Crossroads of Destiny:
PART I: Forever Rivals
PART II: Chasing Bullets and Arrows
PART III: Common Grounds (working title)
PART IV: The Price for Knowledge
PART V: Legends and Realities (working title)