Sage Frontier Fan Fiction ❯ A Tale of two Fakes! ❯ Fuse wants to help the team, too... ( Chapter 44 )

DISCLAIMER: I don't own SaGa Frontier. SquareSoft does. They're appalled that I listened to an upbeat anime soundtrack while fighting Orlouge. It's not my fault that I hated his boss theme.

 

They reached the campsite shortly after eleven in the evening. By that time, almost everyone had retired to bed. Blue remained outside of a small tent, no doubt waiting up for his brother's return, and was more than a little relieved when he saw Rouge and Ildon climbing the rocks that adorned the far side of the camp. He put down the book he had managed to keep, and walked over to them. It was evident, painfully so, that he had grown quite concerned since they departed, and Rouge saw that he and Ildon exchanged knowing glances before he smiled and clasped Rouge's shoulder.

 

“Did you find it?” he asked, referring to the shard. Ildon nodded and showed him the tiny crystal. It was glowing faintly, but otherwise looked as common as the ore underneath Koorong. The only thing that told him it was the shard was the slight power emanating from it. It must have lost quite a bit of energy.

 

“It wasn't far from here,” Ildon said, as Blue took the shard to examine it, “Maybe a mile southwest. Unfortunately, it doesn't have much power left to it.”

 

“No doubt that most of it was spent transporting that dinosaur,” Blue commented absently, holding the shard toward the campfire. It appeared almost cloudy now, and that worried him. He had learned that such a cloudiness meant impurities of some kind, and he hated to think that the shard was infected with something.

 

As Blue continued his examination, with Ildon close by to answer any questions, Rouge looked around the camp to see if anything of interest had occurred. Somewhere during their outing, someone had erected a tent that seemed like it could hold all of them. Rouge took a peek inside, and found the Mystics fast asleep on straw mats. Zozma tossed a bit, but still had his usual grin intact, so he wasn't too badly off, wherever he was. And both Orlouge and the Time Lord were snoring loudly, no doubt exhausted with their own magic being drained continuously. Oddly enough, however, Fuse was not among them. Considering that he had been asleep when they first appeared, Rouge wondered where the bumbling cop could've been.

 

Backing away from the tent, Rouge turned and looked carefully around him. Fuse couldn't have gone too far; he was fairly unarmed and didn't possess any magic at all, and he wasn't stupid enough to leave without some level of personal protection. But there was no sign of him. Rouge walked toward the cliff edge and looked down. From there, he could see for miles across the grassland to the south, and saw the edges of the desert toward the southeast. There was no sign of the cop in either places, though the darkness could have easily obscured him.

 

Rouge glanced back at Blue, wondering if the older magician might know something. If Blue had kept a vigil while waiting for them, he must have surely seen if the cop had left. But why would he let someone like Fuse wander around such a dangerous world? There were many things that could have eaten him; dinosaurs and living trees were the top two concerns in Rouge's long list. Then again, Fuse was nothing short of a thorn in their sides, so perhaps Blue had darker motives than they knew. Rouge decided he didn't want any secrets about his brother. He walked back just as Blue and Ildon noticed he had left.

 

“Where the hell is Fuse?” the younger man asked curiously, his brow arching in amusement. Blue snorted softly and pointed north, where a copse of primitive trees sat. The night hid anything that might have been running through there, but Rouge knew Fuse could use that to the fullest advantage.

 

“When he awoke, all he remembered was that `he ain't where he's supposed to be,” Blue replied, mocking their boss's accent to a tee, “He ran in there to try and stake the scene out, and I haven't the heart to tell him that there's nothing to see.” At that, Rouge laughed. That certainly did sound like something Fuse would do. Never mind how illogical it was.

 

“Best to let the boss do his own thing,” Rouge concluded, to which Blue agreed, “At least he's not in too much danger. What do you make of the shard?” Blue noticed that Rouge had been staring at it for a minute, and looked down at it. In all honesty, he wasn't sure what he should have thought. He shrugged.

 

“It's definitely in a weakened state,” he stated calmly, “But there should be a way to recharge it.”

 

“We can use it, though, right?” Ildon asked him, and Blue nodded. There was a confident grin on his face, one he got only when he knew what he said was right. It brought a renewed hope in Rouge to see, for he trusted his twin beyond all else.

 

“Absolutely. Its power is questionable, but it does still have something left to it,” the magician replied seriously, and then frowned, “Unfortunately, there isn't much to recharge it with. We'll need to ask the Time Lord about it, because I'm not even familiar with these shards. What I want to suggest may not work.” Ildon and Rouge glanced at each other curiously. Neither had worked with crystals for long, so they couldn't begin to guess what could cure one. But Blue had studied crystal-work for some time.

 

“And what do you suggest?” Ildon asked him squarely. Blue hummed a bit, and shifted nervously.

 

“Running water is normally a good conduit for energy transfer. Because it's situated within nature, the natural magic of the land can freely envelop the crystals if you dip them in streams and brooks,” Blue explained slowly, and gestured toward the area with a sweep of his arm, “However, there's no readily available source for that, and if there is, it's guarded.” Rouge understood that Blue was pointing at the cursed woods and those damned treants. And he understood immediately that he personally wouldn't be heading that way. He crossed his arms.

 

“I'm not fighting a damn tree,” he stated firmly, “If you ask me, they should stay rooted in the ground and not move.” Blue agreed, but he couldn't discount the idea simply because of one problem. The shard happened to be a bigger problem, at least at the moment.

 

“Unless either of you have seen a waterfall, though, we may have no choice,” Blue said grimly, and glanced at both human and Mystic carefully, “I leave it to the two of you, since you are the ones who've found the shard. What do we do? Find some water, or wait for the Time Lord?”

 

“I opt for the Time Lord,” Rouge said quickly, and Ildon stared, “He has to know more than we do.” Ildon blinked for what felt like a long time. That might have been true, but they'd be waiting hours, possibly days. If magic was slipping away, the Time Lord was the one suffering most of all. Could they honestly wait any longer? What would happen if the Time Lord didn't know?

 

Before Ildon could ask either of those questions, he was nearly hailed with a blanket of bullets as a gun from the copse of trees went off. He screamed in alarm, and did a sloppy, pirouette-esque sort of maneuver before finally slipping and crashing into the dirt. Rouge and Blue turned, each drawing a weapon against the would-be attacker, fearing an ambush in their weakened state. But they saw that it was only Fuse; he had leapt from his hiding spot and was running quickly toward them, waving frantically. Rouge watched in mild fascination. Normally, Fuse never ran that fast unless someone was dying. He obviously screwed something up - royally, Rouge had to add.

 

Fuse stopped a few feet short of his comrades, and finally put his arms down. He saw that, while all three were shocked, none of them were hurt too badly. He completely missed Blue and Rouge, and he only managed to knock Ildon over. For someone of his self-imposed skill, he had to say that his team was lucky, even if it meant he missed all three of them. He just grinned. To him, luck was more of an asset right then than skills. Though, that was only because he had no ammo left, and guns didn't exist in that time zone. And to hell if he ever decided to use a sword. Swords were for Silence, and he had established clearly that he had a love-hate relationship with the mute son of a bitch.

 

“Looks like my bullets didn't gut any of you,” he observed slyly, and nodded, “Good to know. Looks like you learned a new technique for the field, boys.” The two twins glanced at each other flatly. They learned to never take that sort of compliment seriously. It was half-assed at best.

 

“What the hell were you trying to do, boss?” Rouge asked, brow arched. He knew the answer would be pretty terrible, but it was like an itch: once you scratched it, you had to tear the whole thing apart before it stopped bugging you. And Fuse, so to speak, was the Neosporin that could stop said itch. He blushed a bit in embarrassment.

 

“Now, don't get too mad, but I was rigging that copse up with traps just in case they ended up being like those damn trees that tried to eat you two,” Fuse told them quickly, almost defensively, “But I accidentally set off my Super-Shotgun trap with the toe of my boot, and the kickback blew me clear out of the tree before I could stop it.” Rouge just nodded. That almost made sense, but in that familiar sense of not making much sense at all. Why Fuse would rig an entire forest was a mystery not worth solving. Did he actually think bullets would kill a tree? Maybe if they were on fire…

 

“If you set off one trap, how did it hit us when we're over one hundred yards away!?” Ildon grumbled, getting up off the ground and wiping his pants off. He wasn't exactly in the mood for the cop's antics, but he wanted to know why he'd been shot. Fuse shrugged.

 

“The trap shot another trap, and then all the traps started going off at once,” Fuse answered, as if that completely explained the lack of physics to the whole scenario, “I guess it's some sort of weird stacked effect, or some shit like that.” Shit was a good word to use, because that's what Ildon thought of the whole explanation: a big pile of horse-shit, with dead flies symbolizing Fuse's unique brand of logic.

 

After that, things got quieter. No one could figure out what to make of Fuse's antics, or his explanation of them. Eventually, though, Rouge's normal curiosity got the better of him, and glancing back at the tent, he asked, “So, what made you think that copse was full of treants?” Fuse's face went blank, and Rouge knew quickly that his question wasn't worth asking.

 

“What the hell's a treant?” the clueless cop asked, and at this point, Blue just shook his head. It wasn't worth the time to explain right then; he had let Fuse leave with the hopes that perhaps the old fool would have actually spotted something interesting. Now it was time to see if that hope paid off.

 

“Nothing you need to worry about,” Blue answered, and Rouge stared at him critically, “Fuse, did you happen to see any water anywhere?” Fuse just blinked slowly as he processed that question. To him, it was such a random question. He was on the lookout for monsters, so to ask about water was like asking him if he'd seen aliens. The answer was obviously `no.'

 

“Why the hell would I be looking for water?” he asked, brow arched in confusion, “Besides, it's dark out. I wouldn't have seen a damn thing.” Blue wanted to point out that the moon was full, and that any water would've easily reflected the light, but he didn't. Fuse would have simply said he just didn't think to look. And that would be the end of it. Instead, the mage turned to his brother and Ildon.

 

“Did either of you spot anything, by any chance?” he whispered, so Fuse couldn't hear. But both Rouge and Ildon shook their heads. They had stayed generally within the vicinity of the ranges, and as far as they had seen, there was no sign of water at all. Rouge moaned miserably, fearing what that could mean.

 

“I don't want to fight a bunch of trees,” he whined pathetically, flopping onto the ground. Blue sighed heavily, wishing that sometimes Rouge was the more mature of the two. But he understood his brother's fear, and felt that it was well-placed. Magic was the only way to actually harm the trees, and they had almost none of it. He turned to Fuse again, not sure whether he should tell the cop about the shard or not. It depended on what Fuse would believe.

 

“Do you know if there were any water sources nearby?” Blue asked him, and rephrased, “Based on what you were taught on how to survive, would you say there's water close by?” Fuse really couldn't understand the point of the questions, but he decided answering was best. Blue could easily become very annoying if he wanted to be.

 

Fuse squinted his eyes as he turned toward the cliff faces, taking a good look at what he saw before him, toward the distant horizons. He could see the forest far southeast, and the grasslands just south, and even beyond that, just a few patches of the desert Blue and Rouge had passed just a few hours before. If he had to guess, the grassland would have been the best bet if they needed water, but from what he could see, there was no source available. Judging by how dry it felt, it hadn't even rained for some time. He was surprised the grassland hadn't withered yet.

 

Next he turned north. Based solely on his camping trips with his father, the mountains were normally dotted with falls that provided clean water from a spring on the summit, or someplace close to it. If these mountains were anything like the ones in their time zone, there should be some kind of stream or brook on one of the slopes, or a cave that held some sort of pond. At the very least, he could see the moonlight bouncing off of the snowy caps, poking high into the night sky. It might take a few long hours' hike, but they could collect some of the snow and melt it, if they needed water so badly. The only question he had was why they needed it.

 

“I'd say heading north would be the best bet, boys,” he finally said, turning back to find them listening intently, “I don't see shit in the south, and even if the mountain's dry, I can see some snow. Can't guarantee it's clean, but it's water.” Blue exchanged a concerned look with Ildon. Snow wasn't a safe idea, and they needed to charge the shard as soon as possible.

 

“We need clean water,” Blue stated firmly, making sure his tone said, with no doubt, that they needed it. Fuse narrowed his eyes, looking at the younger man suspiciously. He could only guess why Blue was being so adamant. If he wasn't Blue, Fuse would've chewed him out for being disobedient and difficult. But he understood that if Blue was being this stubborn, there was a reason for it.

 

“Look, I ain't a camper, son,” Fuse told him plainly, “And I sure as hell don't see why you need it. Before I go traipsing off to find water, you'd better tell me why the hell I'm doing it!” Blue stepped back, surprised by the solemn tone in the man's voice. Normally, Fuse didn't want to admit that he just didn't know something. Was it possible he suspected something was up?

 

Blue could only smile weakly. If that was the case, then Fuse had a right to know. Even if it wasn't, making him go out just to find some water wasn't exactly fair. Especially since he had no way to defend himself unless dinosaurs were particularly weak against guns. And Blue didn't think a bullet would put down any monster. Except for maybe a rabbat.

 

“Did the Mystics mention anything about crystals or shards?” Blue asked him, but Fuse shook his head, tapping his foot.

 

“You kidding? They don't really say a damn to me unless it was to tell me to shut up,” Fuse replied bitterly, though Blue wasn't entirely surprised by the answer, “Why? Should they have?” Blue bit his lip and glanced at Ildon. The green-haired Mystic wasn't too thrilled that he let on even that much, but he gave a grim nod. And with that, Blue explained their situation, along with his idea.

 

Fuse listened as best he could to Blue's story. He didn't understand most of it, and sure as hell had no idea how crystals managed to get mixed in there, but he did listen. And when Blue finished, he actually showed Fuse the shard in question. To Fuse, it was just a tiny shard, hardly worth anything. It was small, and to him, rather unattractive with all the cloudiness it carried. He eyed it carefully, trying to figure out what secret it held, how it could possibly hold so much importance. But he just couldn't see it. It didn't even give off the slightest bit of warmth.

 

“And you want water so you can wash it?” he questioned, brow arched in mild confusion. Ildon just snorted. Cleansing was a far better word to use, because washing implied that it was dirty at all. Blue's lips thinned. That was more or less the reason, regardless.

 

“All three of us think that, if we can restore some of its power, we might be able to access the remains of the time-space continuum and travel to a different era,” Blue told him seriously, “Perhaps even to Kylin, if we can.” Fuse hummed, thinking about that. He didn't know much about how time or space worked, but Kylin had said that warp holes were a fast way to reach his realm. But could this tiny sliver really create one?

 

“Have you asked the other Mystics?” Fuse asked, and at that, Blue paled. He hadn't wanted to wake the others up, but judging by Fuse's tone, he'd need more than Blue's theory to head out to the wilderness. Fuse saw this and said, “Don't you think you should?”

 

“Everyone needs to rest, Fuse,” Blue replied sternly, and crossed his arms, “Who's to say they'd even know, either? From what the Time Lord said to us, these shards are rare. Even if we asked, there's no guarantee they'd know the answer. But at least this way, we'd try.” Fuse's eyes narrowed again. He understood the context, and the fact that Blue just threw his own logic right back in his face. Sometimes, it sucked to have such a smart rookie.

 

Knowing there was no other way to deter Blue's decision, and that neither Rouge or Ildon would help him, Fuse just let out a reluctant sigh. He didn't particularly want to go exploring, especially alone, but he'd do it. Only because it was technically his duty. He shook his head and leaned against a rock.

 

“All right, boy, you got me,” he said with a resignation that wasn't normal, “I'll go get some damn water. Just pack me some food and a flashlight, and I'll be fine.” Unfortunately, they had neither food nor a flashlight. In the end, Fuse was sent off with a bag of berries and a torch. That would have to be enough, and as Fuse walked down the trail, leaving the three watching, he wondered how well his father taught him to survive. If he was mauled by a black bear, a lion, or whatever the hell this world was full of, he'd know his father hadn't, and he'd finally be able to get back at the bastard for it, too.

 

Fuse walked down the path, looking back only once when he was nearly a mile away. By then, he couldn't even see anyone else, though he hoped at least one of his friends were keeping watch behind him, just in case he was ambushed. Then he decided that, even if they weren't, there couldn't have been much of a threat here. Hell, he'd been out camping the copse for a while and hadn't seen a damn thing. The only thing he had to fear was the darkness, and his torch shrunk that fear like a shriveled sponge. He had nothing to be afraid of.

 

But the further he went from the camp, the more he felt like he was being watched. Perhaps it was just cynicism, or maybe it was the fifteen-some-odd years of being on the task force, but something felt wrong. The path sloped down along the northern bank of the mountain before rising up again in a steeper pitch, and it was here that Fuse chose to stop. He looked up; the cliff walls before him stretched onwards for miles, and even at his great distance from them, he could see it would take a very long time to scale such a mountain. Silently, he hoped there was some sort of pond he could exploit. He didn't want to have to climb up a cliff. Especially when he felt so vulnerable. He had bravado, but he wasn't a moron. Bullets wouldn't last long there.

 

Taking a heavy sigh, Fuse continued onward. The moon was brighter now, illuminating the dirt path amidst the thinning line of trees. From what he could make out, the northern slopes consisted of mostly flat grassland, with the mountain ranges to the west and farther north. There were trees dotting the northeast range, but unless he backtracked toward the woods Rouge had been worried about, treants wouldn't find him at all. But they had dropped off the west range. And he had been unconscious through most of it. What if there were still dinosaurs up there? Fuse found he didn't want to think about that.

 

And he didn't have to. There was little of interest as he made his way toward his unknown goal. At least, there was little of interest in the outward sense. Inside, Fuse's mind was working to understand what was going on. Blue had explained the shard to him, but somehow, he couldn't quite understand how it could work. It was so damn tiny. Then, he simply shook his head. Maybe he wasn't meant to know everything. Let the magicians worry about the crystal, and he'd worry about finding the water. That was how he'd handle it, at least with that one worry.

 

The second, and most staggering worry in his mind was the bad feeling he was getting. It hadn't been there when he had left his team, but now that he was out there, alone, he wasn't sure he should be doing anything at all. And that wasn't like him. He was a go-getter, and he never let shit stand in his way. He shouldn't have been scared. Yet his head hurt and his heart pounded a little bit. It was as if there was a presence, a dark one, that wanted to scare him, make him run off to who knew where. Sometimes, Fuse swore he saw a flickering movement when he turned his head to better search the slopes. But it'd always be gone within the second.

 

“All right, now this is just stupid!” he called out, brows knitted after ten minutes of hesitation, “Come on out, you little sucker! I'm Fuse Flanagan of Squad 157. You ain't going to scare the shit out of me, so let's fight!” His eyes narrowed and he looked across the deserted field, half expecting some sort of monster to charge at him. But nothing heeded his call. The wind howled hollowly through the grass. Slowly, Fuse reached for his pistol. It was still loaded, like he'd left it.

 

“Fine. I shoot first, bastard,” he growled, and as soon as he saw that flicker, he took aim and fired. He nailed three bullets into a shadow, but it slipped before he fully registered what it was. Then, it was gone. And so were three valuable bullets.

 

“Oh, goddamn it!” he cursed bitterly, spitting on the ground. He really didn't feel like wasting his ammo that night, but to hell if he holstered his gun and suddenly found he needed it. That had happened too many times before. He'd just have to be a bit more careful with what he thought he saw.

 

Twenty minutes, a dead bird-like monster, and one missing bullet later wielded him only a small change in progress. Though there were no physical signs of water around him, Fuse felt the ground begin to moisten. He slowed, and saw that the grass began to thin, and then give way to barren dirt. That was… very odd. Considering the landscape, and the fact that the desert was in the opposite direction, he'd have thought the vegetation would have gotten better. But it appeared to be dying out again. Perhaps the cold of the mountain was the cause. And perhaps snow didn't melt into the very thing that gave the damn veggies their nutrients.

 

Concerned, Fuse kept his gun close and ran to where the rocks began to reach upwards into the craggy walls, and turned toward the west, where the grassland continued on for some time before it met its end at another range. Again, the ground felt wet underneath him, and he stopped, bending with his torch for a look. There was water. It was only a small trickle, but it weaved toward where he had turned. Which meant that there had to be a better source where he was heading. It was just a stretch, but that was enough. Fuse continued on, running as opposed to walking. The ground continued to grow soggy, and only when his foot actually managed to get stuck did he slow down.

 

His hunch pulled through. He kept close to the wall, and found that there was a basin, a small one, filled with water. It was fed by the trickling as the snow melted from the cap, which bore slight lines in the rock where the water rolled down over time. He hummed, and holstered his gun. That felt a little too easy, but there was nothing in sight when he looked to make sure. He turned back to the water, and dipped a finger inside to test it. It was bitterly cold, and was fresh when he tasted it. It cleared his throbbing head, and when he splashed it on his face, he felt refreshed and ready to continue. This had to be a pure source of water. If it wasn't, it was better than nothing.

 

Fuse took out a coffee mug from his coat pocket. It was a little chipped, and the `World's Best Boss' writing was fading a bit, but it would probably carry the water needed. He dipped it into the basin, cursing himself when the cold stung his hand. Then he quickly pulled his hand back, and looked into the cup. The water was still clear, and seemed to shimmer in the moonlight. He could see his own reflection, tiny in the cup, staring up at him with the same wonderment he held. Then he nodded, knowing that now he'd have to carry it back to the camp without spilling any of it. He looked up. And that's when he came face to face with the shadow he had tried to kill.

 

Fuse had nearly screamed, had nearly dropped the water to the ground and shattered the mug. But fifteen years was a long time to get used to the monsters, and so he managed a yelp and a back-step, but nothing more. Though, unfortunately, the torch was sent right into the basin, shattering the little bit of light he did have. It almost made the shadow scarier to see than before, but it gave Fuse the use of his gun and the ability to protect the water. He took out the pistol.

 

“What the hell are you?” he demanded harshly, and then added with an arched brow, “Whose shadow are you supposed to be?” Standing back, he quickly assessed his foe, and saw that it was humanlike in looks, though it was of middling stature, with long hair, and may have been effeminate with the way its shape was. But seeing as how it was a shadow, he could not tell its gender. Not that it mattered. A monster was a monster, and if it wanted to eat him, he wanted to kill it. The shadow merely hissed.

 

“Yeah, well, you're ugly-looking too,” Fuse growled, not sure what to make of it. Knowing his bullet wouldn't work, he did something he thought might. He splashed the water over it, and the shadow began to scream. It was a high-pitched wail, more demonic than human, and it hurt Fuse's ears to hear it. But it worked. Fuse dipped the mug into the basin again, and knowing he had only a few seconds, he bolted. The shadow screamed again, but Fuse distracted it temporarily by firing another three rounds. They bounced off the rock, but they made enough noise to confuse the monster, and he was gone before it could recover.

 

Fuse remembered where he had gone and what he had to do to get back. He was glad his memory was good, for when he did dare to look back, he saw the shadow was pursuing him, going at roughly the same speed he was making. It wasn't gaining ground, but any faster, and Fuse knew he might be a goner. And he couldn't risk the water again. With one hand clutching the mug to his chest, Fuse aimed his pistol and shot backwards again. The shadow seemed to be of greater substance this time; the bullet hit and he heard a thud as something insubstantial fell backwards. But he didn't look. He just ran faster, and prayed his heart could keep up.

 

The hillock rose a few gentle steps, but a leap cleared them, and Fuse was about halfway there toward the campsite. Yet he heard the rustling, and knew the shadow was not far behind him. He cursed angrily, wishing he had some level of magic so he could summon a ray of sunlight and just smite the damn creature, send it howling back to Oblivion. Never mind the fact that magic didn't work in that particular era. Right then, bullets didn't work, either, and Fuse was willing to use anything that could pin a damned shadow. The copse came into view, and thinking it best to try to hide amongst the trees and darkness, Fuse plunged right in. The branches stung and tore at his sleeves; it was almost as if they had come alive in the night. But he continued, knowing that even in darkness, the shadow was only a step behind.

 

He zigzagged and climbed over branches, never taking a straight path and hoping to confuse the shadow. He heard similar scrapings as the thing passed by trees, and was relieved to find that as the night drew on, the shadow became fuller and more alive. He wasn't sure how or why, but soon, he would be able to actually fight. First, though, he'd have to find a good battlefield, a place where he had an advantage. And the copse wasn't it. But he had to admit, he was still gaining the advantage he wanted. He heard a moan as the shadow tripped on an unseen log, and now he dared to look back. He was halfway up a tree, and had a solid footing. He could risk one glance.

 

That glance made him nearly fall out of the tree. The shadow was no longer a shadow, but a person. Or, at the very least, a humanoid. But humans didn't have dark wings sprouting out of their back, or two horns poking out of their head. Nor did they normally wear torn leather armor. Nor did they give off an energy so immersed in evil that it made Fuse's blood freeze in his veins. He felt his throat seize up, and quickly scrambled up to a high branch when the shadow began to pick itself up. It looked up, obviously looking for where Fuse had gone. It couldn't find him, but Fuse saw its face, and couldn't help but think it looked familiar. The features were angular and sharp, attractive to those who were vain, but otherwise giving the creature a smug expression. The nose was straight, the mouth thin and drawn, and the cheeks looked thin. But most of it was obscured in an unnatural shadow, and when the eyes flashed up, Fuse saw they were red.

 

“What in hell is that thing?” he whispered to himself, scanning his mind for anything that could have helped him. His first thought went to an Incubus, but even they were not as beautiful, nor as regal, as this. He took a steadying breath, and continued to watch. For now, it seemed preoccupied with prowling the ground, not even considering that its target had gone high into the trees.

 

“What's it looking for?” Fuse asked quietly, narrowing his eyes. He reached into his coat and held the mug of pure water. Originally, he had thought that it wanted the water. That was how it appeared at all, but when he had tossed it, the purity had literally hurt the shadow, had possibly been responsible to its continuous shift into life. Now, it wasn't even going after him. It was looking for something else.

 

Fuse's eyes hardened when he realized that the shard might have been it. That would've made sense - at least more so than a mug of water. And if it were true, then Blue and the others were in danger. Fuse's fist clenched and he put the mug away. He knew nothing about how crystals worked, but he wasn't about to let his team get mauled by a creature of the abyss. Especially if that crystal was their only hope. Fuse looked around. The creature was rummaging through a pile of leaves, and its back was turned toward him. He had two options: he could jump on its back and try to strangle it, or he could leap down and run, continuing the chase that had been started. He just wasn't sure which would be worse. The former meant death, and the latter meant risking multiple lives for a chance that might not have even worked. At least with the latter, though, there'd be more people to fight the horrid shadow. Fuse leapt from the branch, and landed with a thud. And then, he was off before the shadow even saw.

 

Fuse didn't stop until the camp came into view, and even then, he had begun to yell and scream, hoping he could attract someone's attention before that shadow returned, assuming it hadn't already. Ildon and Blue ran out, both with their swords drawn, and saw Fuse returning. Ildon sheathed his blade, but Blue immediately sensed something was wrong. Fuse was an idiot sometimes, but he wasn't stupid. To scream like that would've meant attracting a lot of attention, and Blue had been absolutely clear that that wasn't what they wanted. Something was horribly wrong.

 

“Sir, what's going on?” he asked, when Fuse finally slowed enough to stop without tripping. The flustered cop was out of breath; he was obviously terrified of something. But he shook his head, trying to act as if he were just tired. Blue didn't buy it.

 

“Get in the damn tent and let's get that shard cleaned,” the cop said quickly, and that shocked Blue even further. Normally, Fuse didn't care about magic or what he called `hocus-pocus crap.' Blue glanced at Ildon, and saw a similar expression plague the Mystic's face.

 

“Shouldn't we wake the Time Lord?” the green-haired Mystic asked warily, and Fuse shook his head again, his brows creasing in agitation.

 

“Are you shitting me!? You assholes send me out there and now you want to wake everyone up!?” Fuse growled, though Blue suspected that if everyone had been woken, it was from Fuse himself, “Get in the goddamned tent!” His adamancy was half-expected, but it was clear he was confusing the two men before him. Fuse found he wanted to hit them with a baton for their hesitancy. This was serious, and for once, he was trying to help them out.

 

“Fuse, what's gotten into you?” Blue asked calmly, fearing Ildon's sarcasm would only anger the cop further, “You're normally not so scared. Did you find something?” Blue's tone calmed the cop considerably, and he stopped shaking. He bit his lip; he didn't want to tell them what he had seen. He wasn't sure how they'd react, or if it had even been real. It was late, after all, and the shadows were thick around them.

 

“You ain't going to believe me, but I saw some sort of shadow…thing,” Fuse replied gravely, almost inaudible against the growing moan of the wind, “Some demon, maybe, `cause it wasn't even real at first, and then it started tripping and tearing itself on trees and shit.” Blue tilted his head, trying to think of what that could have meant. He had no doubt Fuse had been attacked. Only a creature bred of darkness could scare so bold a man. But what it had been, Blue could only guess.

 

“A demon?” Blue repeated, and his tone told Fuse he believed him, “What kind? Monstrous? Elemental?”

 

“Human-like,” Fuse said quickly, and glanced behind himself for a second, “It had bat wings and horns, but it wasn't much bigger than me. Sure as hell was faster, and probably far stronger, too.” Blue didn't doubt that, either. He glanced at Ildon, and the Mystic nodded knowingly. He knew only one man with bat wings.

 

“So Rouge was right,” he said softly, and nodded when Blue added, “We can't let him know. It might destroy him.” Fuse looked at them both. Now he was the one who was confused. But neither said anything more.

 

“You two mind telling me what you're talking about?” he prompted, when no one spoke again for a moment. Blue looked at him squarely. If Fuse learned that he might have just been assaulted by Ciato, he'd go back and kill the Mystic. And then Rouge would really lose it. As much as he didn't completely approve, Blue loved his brother and wouldn't risk his mental health like that. He tried to smile warmly.

 

“Nothing important, sir. You've risked a lot to get us the water,” he said, and Fuse grunted an agreement, “Come on. The sha…” Blue was cut short when a hand suddenly grabbed his throat, knocking Fuse sideways. He was spun sharply, and came face to face with Ciato. Or rather, a Ciato possessed fully by an evil so strong, it made him want to collapse. The man's eyes were blood red, burning with hatred, and his face was hidden in shadow. But it was him; white hair, black armor, and bat winged as he was. And he was about to murder Blue right there.

 

A kick from Ildon ended the threat, and Ciato found himself spiraling as he crashed into the ground, ten feet from where he'd been. Blue staggered onto his knees, head reeling from the lack of oxygen for that agonizing minute. But he recovered, knowing the danger wasn't over. Ildon's sword was already in his hand, and he was already lunging by the time Blue was up, aiming directly for Ciato's back. But both Mystics were skilled, and Ciato rolled, one wing slamming into Ildon and dazing him. Blue took that moment to attack, using Ciato's movement against him as he pinned the wing to the ground. Ciato snarled, and kicked Blue in the stomach, sending the weakened human over twenty feet backwards. And then he was up, tearing his wing clean off before he realized the sword was still there.

 

“Long time no see, Ildon,” he said, in a voice that strangely wasn't his, “What's wrong? You look scared.” Ildon didn't care how true the statement was. To see Ciato standing there, before him, was something he could never have imagined, not when the world should have ended. Yet, there he was. And again, it wasn't truly him. It couldn't have been!

 

“What on earth happened to you!?” was the only question Ildon could ask him. Ciato didn't respond at first. Then, slowly, he grinned. It was a wicked look, one that had never crossed the man before. It was like being slapped across the face; Ildon could scarcely recognize that it was his old companion.

 

“You mean what not of this earth,” Ciato corrected, and laughed, “Earth no longer exists, my friend. Everything we knew and loved… gone!”

 

“And it was your doing,” Ildon reminded him bitterly, hatefully, “We aren't blind. It was you who destroyed the terminal, who destroyed the world, who… who…” The words caught in his throat, and Ildon shook as he fought back the tears. But his emotions were more powerful than his discipline, and he screamed, “WHO MURDERED RASTABAN!” And he charged, wanting Ciato to feel every ounce of hatred he felt.

 

“I'll admit, that one almost killed me,” the white-haired Mystic replied sincerely, and Ildon froze, “He was the prince we all loved. Kind, and beautiful, and forgiving. Almost like…” He didn't speak again, and his face went from sadness, back to that overwhelming evil. Ildon didn't even know if that had been an act, meant to only halt his death.

 

“You could never love!” Ildon yelled furiously, and his eyes went red, “All you've ever done was hurt everyone! And now you expect me to believe Rastaban's death struck you? What a lie!”

 

“A lie?” Ciato repeated, and frowned, “Those are below me, Ildon.” Ildon wasn't so sure what to believe. If what he said was true, why would Ciato do this? Why kill so many innocent people? What was the point of it?

 

Ildon decided to ask questions later. He yelled again, something incomprehensible, and came on with a flurry of jabs that forced Ciato to step back, almost to the edge of the cliff. They were facing the eastern slope; it was easily a one-thousand foot drop, and he wouldn't survive. Even if he rolled and went south, he would at best break his other wing. Ildon would either corner him, or kill him, and he wasn't sure which was most likely. He brought up his own sword and deflected the rest of the attack, but if anything, that angered the green-haired Mystic further. Their dance continued until he was sure the ground would crumble, and he'd go tumbling. At the last second, Ildon relented.

 

“Death is too easy for you, you traitor,” Ildon spat venomously, “You deserve worse.” Ciato knew that to be true, but damn be it to Ildon if he thought he could win. He knew nothing. Ciato's scowl returned.

 

“Do I?” he asked, “And what could possibly hurt me more than the thought of spending millennia in space, alone, with no one?” Ildon stopped, and stared at Ciato. They stared for a moment, and that moment turned to ten. That was what had caused this. Pain, one so strong that it pushed all reason out of Ciato's warped mind, and twisted his soul to this degree. But the result was even worse, Ildon thought. It made no sense, yet it made such perfect sense at the same time. Ciato had gone mad, just as Rouge said.

 

Before either could speak, could retort, could argue, a voice cut out from dozens of feet away, back toward the camp. It took Ildon an agonizing moment to realize that they hadn't been alone, and for Ciato, it took far shorter to recognize the voice. It had been Rouge, his voice cutting the silence like a sword through skin.

 

“What… what happened!?” came the frantic cry, and both Mystics turned to him. His skin was white as he looked at the obviously bloody battle. Blue lay before him, unconscious, bleeding from the mouth, and Fuse was further behind, his head cracked from the hard landing. Blue blood lay in a pool around Ciato's torn wing, and there were arcs in the sand where Ildon's sword met his skin, drawing thin lines of blue blood.

 

But what terrified Rouge the most was not the blood, or his brother's unconscious body. It was the Mystic before him, covered in blue and red blood, torn leather armor adorning him, with only one sagging wing. It was Ciato, no longer even really a Mystic. Rouge shook, unable to comprehend what had happened. Or how, or even why. All he could see was that Ciato was before them, and was corrupted beyond anything he had ever felt. He had been right. And he had never wanted to be wrong so badly until now. Ildon turned to Ciato, a grim look tempered only with the pity he felt for Rouge.

 

“That could,” he answered, and kicked Ciato off the cliff. Ciato screamed as he fell, but that scream was soon muffled, and then came that sickening silence that Rouge did not want to hear. Ildon sheathed his sword and turned again. But what he had done did far more damage that he thought. Rouge's hands were clasped before his mouth, his eyes widened with horror. Ciato was there, and then he was gone. And Ildon knew it was his doing that had probably just ended Ciato's life.

 

The worst part was, Rouge had seen all of it. There was no protecting him now.

 

-----------------------------(End Chapter)

 

Fuse may have gotten the water needed to cleanse the shard, but time is not their ally. Ciato has returned, and with him the full fury of the abyss comes to end the team's lives. He intends to destroy the world, but for reasons that only he understands. To make matters worse, Ildon may have ended his life forever, thusly destroying any peace Rouge could have made. Why did Ciato want to stop them, and what was his plan for the shard? Did Ildon truly kill him, or will he return? What consequences will Ildon face for exposing Rouge, even unintentionally, to what Ciato has become? Find out next chapter, so click that Review button!