And when he was done, he raised his hand, and watched the black dove appear. He handed the letter into its razor beak, and watched it fly off. It would find Scarecrow.

He stared into the sunset that had just fallen over the desert. A beautiful sight. When he was done, the sun and the moon would never again shine. The world would be consigned to darkness, and all people would be his slaves.

They would lose their humanity and merely become mindless creatures, forced into labor, working for their food like pack horse.

For what THEY did to him. But their power was gone. No one here could combat him. And he raised his hand a second time.

The "Lost Tale" of the War of the Magi, the only scripture of it remaining, appeared in his hand.

The only time humans and Espers allied during the tumultous combat. He had been consigned into a vacuum in time and space. The man sent to kill him had not come. And so he had 1000 years to sit, and wait.

And as he did, he grew in strength. And those outside grew weaker. Now none had the magic of the Magi, and there were no Espers. But the Hunter was here. And he would kill him, to erase the chance of temporal correction.

The Hunter and the Prey, caught in a temporal loop, had lived this sequence a million times. Every time, the Hunter had come from his time to destroy the Prey. But this time, the Hunter failed. Now the scales had tipped out of Balance, and into the side of evil.

Already signs of it had appeared. Livouf's ability to access the Prime Evil. The existence of these strange, new Evil Ones. But no one would imprison the Prey, this time.

This time, Livouf Takar, the Ancient Prey, would kill Livouf Manar, the Ancient Hunter. He had been branded. And he would die.

Scarecrow opened a cabinet in the back to find some dried fruit and meat. He hadn't eaten in days, so he fished out a hearty portion before sitting down.

The food wasn't anything special, but Scarecrow tried to enjoy it. He would need all his strength for the road ahead, wherever it took him.

Finished with his quick meal, Scarecrow snatched up the letters. The first three were from his agents, telling him of recent events. He noted with mild interest the fact that Tzen had been destroyed by a tornado. He paused halfway through the third letter.

"Akfek? Still alive? How interesting." He read a few more sentences. "What a blind fool. He never meant anything to his brother. Sad indeed." Scarecrow mused for a moment on misplaced loyalties, glad he had no such weakness.

The fourth and final letter was a job offer. Scarecrow read it through three times before setting it down. "Someone must want a new position pretty bad to pay two hundred thousand." Scarecrow fully realized what he could get with that kind of money.

Scarecrow got up to clean what little mess he had made in the hut. In less than half an hour, the small hut looked again as though it had never been used. Scarecrow pocketed the envelopes on his way out the door.

***********

Greldex shook his head. "I told ye, sonny. The Shade's Anchor is not a passenger ship. I would not be taking ye even if this blasted weather cleared up!" Greldex waved his hand at the dark clouds brewing on the horizon for emphasis.

"I can pay you well," the deep voice emanated from the hood of the black-cloaked figure. "It will certainly be worth your while."

Greldex sighed. He didn't like the looks of this stranger, and wanted nothing more than to be rid of him. "Look, lad, I be doin' ye a favor by not taking ye. The storms out there are strong enough to rip any ship in half! I wouldn't take anyone out in this weather!"

"Not even..." The deep voice lowered to a whisper. "... an agent of Scarecrow?"

Greldex cursed silently. An agent of Scarecrow! This was a spot of good fortune! Scarecrow's generosity was legendary. But... he looked back to the window, where stormclouds still approached. Was it worth it?

"Scarecrow rewards those who help him well, even for the smallest tasks. It will be well worth your while." The cloaked figure was still whispering, apparently unwilling to let his presence here be known. "I can pay you one thousand right now, plus as much again when the voyage is over."

Greldex swore again. Two thousand! On the best of trips, fully loaded with expensive spices and silks, he didn't make that much! It would indeed be worth his while. "Just remember to tell Scarecrow I'm doing him a favor, going out in this weather. I have one question: why me?"

The stranger laughed slightly. "You didn't know? You own the fastest ship this half of the world. What other reason would I need?"

Greldex sighed. This weather must be addling his nerves, for him to even think about going out in this weather.

Just then, a black-cloaked young man entered from the back of the room, stepping up to the podium. He gazed over the cult members with blood-red eyes. Serevin smiled, knowing he was one of the few people in the room who could avoid flinching when that gaze passed over him. The aura of evil emanating from the High Priest was powerful indeed.

"I have called this meeting," the High Priest boomed, voice filling the entire chamber, "on the orders of our Dark Lord himself. He has told me what we must do. Our plans are at a delicate stage. We cannot afford to have anything, or anyone, upset the balance. And so it is that there are three tasks we must accomplish.

"First, this Keyla," he spoke the name in disgust, "seems to be trying to get herself killed prematurely. She must stay alive, at least for the moment. So, the Ice and Death orders will be assigned to protect her. If you fail in this mission, I will be very... displeased." Serevin smiled as a shudder rippled through the room. He knew fully what the High Priest did to those who displeased him.

"Second, there is a newcomer to our land, a newcomer by the name of Jaroh Magus. Find out more about him. If he is not useful to us, finish him. He has been... delayed... on his travels. Find him, and make certain that he will not harm our plans.

"Third, there is one who calls himself Scarecrow. He could work for anyone, and may damage our plans. We know almost nothing of him, and the attempts of the Thorn order to learn more have failed. And so it is that I call the Black Plague's first Hunt: Scarecrow must die! The man who kills Scarecrow will have power almost equal to that of mine. You will kill Scarecrow!"

The final word echoed through the cavernous temple. For a long moment, nobody dared even breathe. Then one of the Priests spoke up.

"I anticipated this desire, o Great One. I have already sent Scarecrow on a suicide mission, to kill King Edgar and Prince Sabin. I know that this will not damage our plans, and however powerful this Scarecrow is, he cannot defeat both of them. He will never suspect my plan."

The High Priest smiled faintly, before giving the Priest his darkest stare. The object of his gaze cowered in fear. "You dare attempt to second-guess my plans? No one does anything until I GIVE THE ORDER!" The cowering priest began screaming, staggering as though dealt mighty blows. "NOW! Is that clear?"

The wounded priest struggled to remain standing. "Yes, your Greatness. I will not fail you again."

"Good. Now, remember never to underestimate your opponent. I doubt this Scarecrow is such a fool that he will fall right in to your trap. So... spies report that Scarecrow is crossing the ocean. It would be best for all of you if he never made it to the other side. Dismissed!"

The High Priest turned and stalked out of the room, leaving the cult members to begin shuffling out. Serevin smiled. As Master of Beasts, his job was to find and breed more powerful monsters, so that one day the Black Plague would have armies of twisted creatures at it's disposal. There was a new creature he had found, his most powerful yet. Scarecrow would never stand a chance.

He paused, looking down at the frothy ocean. He was almost sure he had seen something. What could it be? Scarecrow stared at the water for a long moment.

"What 'r you lookin at, sonny?" asked Greldex. The grizzled boatman stepped over to the railing, standing next to Scarecrow. "Is something wrong?"

Scarecrow only pointed. The water was bubbling a short distance away from the ship, and steam seemed to be rising.

Greldex blinked. "In all my years... I've never seen anything like this. Any idea what it is?"

Scarecrow gave a brief shake of his head. "Hard to tell for certain. It could be some type of sea creature, but I've never seen anything like this... and sea creatures don't usually attack boats... unless..."

Scarecrow paused for a moment, staring at the bubbles.

"AQUILAN!" he suddenly shouted. Scarecrow grabbed Greldex and with all of his strength, leaped toward the cabin.

Behind him, a huge head rose from the water, letting out a blast of flame that covered the entire ship. Scarecrow hit the floor of the cabin hard, flames passing just behind him.

"And now the real fun begins," Scarecrow muttered as he leaped out of the cabin.

The Aquilan blinked as he leaped back out of the cabin, apparently surprised that anyone had survived that. Scarecrow had his cloak to thank for that, which had fended off most of the blast from both he and Greldex.

In the split second it took the creature to blink, Scarecrow sent two knives flying toward the reptilian head. It screeched in pain as the blades soared straight into it's mouth.

The head returned to the water, and Scarecrow drew two more knives. Standing in the middle of the now burning ship, he waited for the next attack to come.

Where had it come from? he wondered. The last of the Aquilans had become extinct during the first War of the Magi. In fact, he was lucky to have heard about them at all. They had some amazing legends in that Ancient Castle. An Aquilan, it said, was a type of Sea Dragon, a type that grew quickly and could regenerate itself. Scarecrow had no doubt that the Aquilan was healing the knife wounds it had taken, and would soon be back to normal.

A tentacle rose from the water, raking blindly across the ship. Another rose from the opposite side. A third rose up, but this one had a huge eye attached to the end of it.

Scarecrow cursed inwardly. He had hoped the Aquilan would have to resort to blind-fighting. If this thing was fully grown...

As the tentacles snaked across the burning boat, Scarecrow threw a single knife at the massive eye. Armored eyelids closed, and the knife bounced off ineffectively.

But when the eye opened again, Scarecrow was nowhere to be seen. The two tentacles stopped moving, unsure of what to do. The eye stalk began to circle the boat.

And then Scarecrow leaped out of his hiding place behind the cabin, slashing down with both longswords at the starboard tentacle. The blades peirced the armored skin, managing to slice the end of the tentacle clean off. As the other tentacle raced toward him, two more tentacles rose, one on each side of the ship.

Blades flailing, Scarecrow leaped across the ship, desperately trying to avoid the three tentacles, not to mention the spreading blaze. One managed to tangle around his leg, but he slipped free just in time to avoid the other two.

Scarecrow realized he couldn't win this way. "Time to pull out the big guns," he muttered to himself.

After evading the tentacles once again, he suddenly stopped, roughly in the middle of the ship. "Lightning!" A bolt of electricity appeared out of the only slightly cloudy sky, impacting with the eye before it had a chance to close it's armored eyelid.

Scarecrow knew this had only stunned it for a second, so he ignored the rapidly approaching tentacles to throw his sword at the eye. It went in dead center, and the eye dropped into the ocean.

He didn't have time to congratulate himself, as the three tentacles slammed full-force into him. His DarkCloak protected him from most of the damage, but one of the tentacles twisted around him, pinning his arms to his sides. He couldn't even move as it began to squeeze him.

Scarecrow struggled against his captor. If he could just reach...

A quarrel suddenly stuck into the side of the thing, and it released its hold on Scarecrow just enough for him to slip out. As he rolled to the side to avoid the other tentacles, he grimly noted Greldex inside the cabin, re-arming his crossbow.

The Aquilan's massive head reared up again out of the water...

Scarecrow leaped to the side, ducking behind the mast to avoid the heat of the flames. Luckily for him, the Aquilan could only breathe flames at the same strength as its first blast once in a great while.

"Stay inside the cabin!" Scarecrow shouted to Greldex, unsure of whether his voice would carry that far. He had to find some way to take out the head...

He almost didn't notice the sixth tentacle rising up from behind him. This tentacle had a hole at the end, and looked almost like a tube...

Scarecrow brought up his DarkCloak just as the acid spray hit him. He was glad the cloak was impervious to acid. Kefka had indeed created it well. The cloak had been a personal gift to him for his services... in some ways, it was almost too bad Kefka was dead.

Scarecrow broke out of his thoughts in time to evade one of the normal tentacles, being sure to keep his cloak up between himself and the acid- sprayer. Unfortunately, that left only one hand free to use his sword.

"As if that wasn't bad enough," he sighed, noting the small winged form now rising from the depths of the water. It was a drake, a sort of offspring of the Aquilan, that an Aquilan would realease in a dangerous situation.

"First things first," Scarecrow muttered. Abandoning the protection of his cloak, he whipped out his trump card...

the Guardian sword. It was Scarecrow's most powerful magic item, a blade found deep in the secret passageways of the Ancient Castle. The legend he had read there had mentioned the fact that it had belonged to a great warrior, and that this warrior's essences still filled the sword. It was indeed a powerful weapon, and could slice through steel like it was butter. Scarecrow still thought the Guardian had more power locked deep inside, though he had been unable to unleash it.

"No time for that now." A tentacle was headed straight for him. He hopped a short distance to the side and cut it in half, then leaped to avoid the acid blast.

The other two tentacles stopped reaching toward him, hesitating momentarily. He took the opportunity to leap forward and hack one of them apart. The second retreated into the depths of the ocean.

The drake, which was in the sky above the burning boat now, took the opportunity to breathe fire, blasting Scarecrow to the fore of the boat. It was a good hit, but Scarecrow managed to stay on his feet. He dimly noted two more drakes rising from the waters.

"Now's the time," he thought, leaping to avoid another blast of acid. He then dropped the sword in his left hand and whipped out an autocrossbow, raking the three drakes with quarrels. One of them went down, but it was enough to turn the other two away.

Dropping the Autocrossbow to use the Guardian with both hands, he ran from the front of the ship to the back, acid trailing along just behind him. Though the acid damaged the ship even more, it did put the fire out, and that was good enough for Scarecrow.

Then Scarecrow leaped straight at the spraying tentacle, using the Guardian to block the acid blast. One quick swipe and the tentacle was gone.

He turned around to find himself facing four drakes, and the head of the Aquilan had just risen up. Not even his DarkCloak could protect him from that kind of firepower. He was sure he could see the Aquilan's reptilian lips draw back in a smile.

There was nothing left he could do. It seemed stupid to Scarecrow for it all to end here, stupid and useless as well. He knew it could have been no coincedence that the Aquilan had attacked him, but he had survived many traps before. Why here?

His gaze went down to the Guardian sword, and thoughts of the great warrior filled Scarecrow's head. "Ancient warrior," he began, unsure of why he was talking to a sword, "I ask for your help. I cannot defeat this thing alone. I know what you must think of me, if indeed the essence inside this sword does think. I believe you were once a protector of the innocent. The captain of this ship has done nothing, but if I die, the Aquilan will kill him. Please help us."

Scarecrow opened his eyes, suddenly aware he had closed him. Nothing had changed. The Aquilan drew back its head, moving in perfect simoultaneity with the drakes. Nowhere to run. Scarecrow held up the Guardian, in a futile effort to block some of the fire, and closed his eyes.

A deafening roar filled his ears...

Scarecrow opened his eyes. Nothing had changed. Except...

The Guardian was glowing, burning with a magical fire. Scarecrow looked around. The drakes and the Aquilan looked as confused as he was. He looked back at the Guardian sword. The sword must've absorbed the flames...

It suddenly came to life, flying out of Scarecrow's grip. A ghostly image of a white-haired knight in crystalline armor suddenly appeared, holding the weapon. While they were still stunned, it leaped and swung at a drake, cutting it apart with one fell swoop.

Scarecrow drew his spare longsword, though the Aquilan was no longer paying attention to him. A jet of flame passed through the ghost-image, then was absorbed by the fiery Guardian blade.

Scarecrow took the opportunity to leap and stab another of the drakes. The drake swerved out of the way, but Scarecrow still managed to clip its wing, and it crashed down onto the deck. Meanwhile, the Guardian was attacking the reptilian head, smashing into the thick armor again and again.

Scarecrow didn't have time to watch the Guardian, however. One of the two remaining drakes swooped at him, and he barely managed to leap to the side. It circled around for another pass. Backing up against the mast, he raised his sword in preparation to strike. Without warning, the other drake swooped from behind.

Prepared for this, Scarecrow ducked... but the drake wasn't going for him. It caught his longsword squarely in it's jaws, wrenching it away, even as it clawed at his arm.

The things were intelligent! That was something the old legends had never said.

The first drake was still approaching... fast! Scarecrow leaped up onto the mast, forcing the drake to veer off, at least for a moment. He began climbing upward, headed to the crow's nest. He had only a few knives left, so he would have to find a way to make them count.

The two drakes were approaching from below. Though he was climbing as fast as he could, Scarecrow knew they would reach him before he made it to the top. Time to waste some of his precious magic...

"Ice!" The two creatures were hit by a quick torrent, which served only to distract them for a moment. It was just enough, however, for Scarecrow to swing himself up into the crow's nest.

The drakes soared upward, circling to come at him from opposite directions. Stuck between a rock and a hard place...

Scarecrow drew two of his knives. In terms of knife-throwing, he was the best. If he could time it just right...

The two drakes opened their mouths to breathe fire, and Scarecrow launched his weapons. They went in perfectly, jabbing deep into the drakes' throats. Not quite enough to kill them, perhaps, but they were unable to breathe.

Undaunted, the two drakes charged him, flying with death-defying speeds straight at him. They were attacking off-timed from each other, so trying to make them crash together wouldn't work. Scarecrow drew two more knives.

Just as they almost reached him, he leaped out of the crow's-nest, coming down on one of them from above. Both of his knives went deep into the creature's hide, as they plummeted toward the boat. The creature shrieked in agony, fully aware that it would not survive the crash into the boat.

Scarecrow calmly removed a rope-and-grapple from his cloak, swinging it away at the last possible second. For a moment he was in complete freefall...

then the grapple caught, presumably on a crossbeam of the mast, and Scarecrow found himself swinging halfway across the boat. He dropped to the ground, rolling to dampen his impact. His DarkCloak helped with that, too.

The last drake was soaring away, trying to escape the now-impossible situation. "I don't think so," Scarecrow muttered, drawing two more of his knives.

They sailed in with perfect accuracy, each one hitting one of the drake's wings. It plummeted into the ocean below.

Scarecrow paused for a moment to rest, as he looked around. The Guardian, and for that matter the Aquilan, were nowhere to be seen. He could only think of one place they had gone. He sighed, staring down at the frothy ocean waters.

The boat shook suddenly, and Scarecrow was knocked to the floor. As he struggled to his feet, the boat shook again. What was going on?

Greldex rushed out of the cabin. "We're taking on water!" he shouted. "The thing is putting holes in the boat!"

Scarecrow sighed. He had had about enough for one day. This was getting old, fast. Sighing again, he leaped into the water.

A strange glow lit up the sea, and after a moment Scarecrow realized it was the Guardian sword. The Aquilan had wrapped it's remaining tentacle around the blade, and was struggling to keep it from attacking. Scarecrow noticed the sword's light was getting dimmer by the second.

Meanwhile, the Aquilan's head was repeatedly slamming against the bottom of the boat, frequently putting holes in it. Scarecrow had to finish this fast.

Still swimming, he drew two of his knives. They wouldn't be too useful down here, but he had to find SOME way to get this thing.

The Aquilan turned its head, spotting him. Scarecrow was sure he could see the thing smiling as it stretched it's neck toward him. The Aquilan opened its mouth wide, unsure of why the morsel wasn't moving, but not caring. It was hungry, and it had been unable to eat all day.

It slammed its jaws down, crunching the morsel with all it's might. It had been a tough fight, but the taste was worth...

Leather. It tasted only leather. It screamed, letting out a blaze of flame into the water as it did so. A trick! I have been tricked! The Aquilan snapped its head around, eyes searching for the prey.

Just in time to see the 'prey' slam a knife into each of the Aquilan's eyes. The trick had been one of Scarecrow's favorites. Slipping out of his cloak, to sneak up on his opponent. He was slightly surprised it had worked so well underwater.

Almost out of air, Scarecrow left the bellowing creature behind as he swam up to the open sky. After catching his breath, Scarecrow looked back down into the water.

The Aquilan was withdrawing, swimming away with a speed that rivaled the fastest of fish. The Guardian was left behind, having finally got loose of the tentacle. The ghost image holding the sword was now swimming up to the surface. Scarecrow noted with dread that the boat was taking on large amounts of water. He couldn't afford to lose his ride, not in the middle of the ocean.

Scarecrow swam up to the boat, entering it through one of the holes that had been bored into it. He noted with dismay that the cargo hold was almost full of water, and the boat was close to sinking completely. Time to use the last of his magic.

"Qifi!" The boat shuddered, planks suddenly coming back into place, partially repairing the damage. "Qifi!" The boat was sealed now, but water still filled most of the hold. "Fire!" A large portion of the water turned instantly to steam. Drained completely of magic, and still losing blood from various wounds he had taken, Scarecrow collapsed in a puddle of the remaining water.

******************

"Are you all right?" a gruff voice asked, shaking Scarecrow awake. "C'mon, lad, you can't just die on me now. Wake up!"

Scarecrow coughed up some water, opening his eyes. He was on deck again. How did that happen?

"You're alive! C'mon then, get up!" Greldex helped Scarecrow to his feet. After a moment of resting, Scarecrow pulled a potion out of the pouch on his belt, draining it in one long swig.

"I'm fine now," he breathed, still coughing up a little water. "What about my cloak?" Scarecrow was still covered from head to toe in black armor, but his cloak was a powerful item, and he hated to lose it.

Greldex lifted a sodden mass of black cloth. "Fished it out of the water. Figured you'd want it." Looking again at the cloak, he added, "Once it's dry, at least."

Scarecrow managed a brief laugh. "Found this, too," Greldex continued. He pointed to a crystalline sword that was lying on the deck. "Don't know how it got here. It just showed up in the middle of the hold.

Scarecrow smiled under his mask, reaching for the sword. "Thanks," he whispered.

"Yer not just an agent of Scarecrow, are ye?" Greldex suddenly asked.

Scarecrow turned. "What?"

"I saw you do magic, lad, and ye're a wonder with weapons. The way I see it, with magic bein' destroyed and all, only Scarecrow can pull a stunt like that."

After a pause, Scarecrow nodded. "So I am. But, remember one thing. Magic doesn't die easy, and it takes a lot more than killing Kefka to do it."

Scarecrow didn't even glance that direction. "Another ship. They've been closing with us for about half an hour. Someone aboard REALLY wants to meet us. Could be pirates," he offhandedly remarked.

"Pirates?" Greldex laughed. "I'd like to see the pirate who could take you on! That'd be the day! Ha!"

Scarecrow grinned slightly, under the hood of his DarkCloak. Every little plus to his reputation helped. Still...

"Look. I'm sorry about putting you into all this danger. I don't like getting anyone killed for no reason."

Greldex raised an eyebrow. "Puttin' me into danger? What're you talkin' bout, lad? It's not like the A... the Akillan was yer fault. Ye can't be blaming yourself for that un, lad. Truth to tell, without ye, I wouldn't ever have survived."

"Oh? Tell me, have you ever heard of an Aquilan before? Or even a strange, many-tentacled beast that destroyed entire ships?" Scarecrow raised a gloved hand, keeping Greldex from speaking. "Don't answer, I already know. The answer is no. The answer is that not one Aquilan has been seen since the War of the Magi. And now one just happens to attack us? In my experience, there's no such thing as coincidence, and especially not one like that."

Greldex paused. It DID make sense, after all...

"And this boat approaching," Scarecrow continued. Greldex looked back at the black shape moving across the water. Even at this distance, Greldex could see the flag that marked it as a pirate ship. "How many pirates have attacked you in the past year? Not many, I bet. And did you even notice that the wind is moving against us, now? While they continue to gain at an alarming rate. Someone... is hunting me."

****************

"Hoy there!" shouted one of the pirates.

"Ye won't be gettin' no cargo from me!" responded Greldex, waving his crossbow for emphasis. "I won't be givin' up easily, ye hear?" Greldex resisted the urge to smile. None of 'em would even stand a chance against Scarecrow.

The pirates looked irritated. After a moment, one of them spoke up. "We don't want your cargo. Give us your passenger and we'll leave you alone."

"Looking for someone?" Scarecrow asked, materializing in the crow's nest... of the pirate ship. The pirates blinked, dumbfounded. "I don't make easy prey, gentlemen. I would kindly ask you to withdraw... NOW." He put a few warning shots into the deck with his autocrossbow. "Undock from his ship, and I'll think about letting you live."

The pirates paused, for a long moment. Then one of the youngest ones spoke up. "We don't have to..." He broke off as the quarrel jabbed into his knee, and fell to the ground.

"Anyone else?" There was no response. The pirates just looked at each other.

"Fire!" Scarecrow's autocrossbow burst into flames. He dropped it just in time to avoid getting burned. In the same instant, the pirates drew crossbows and fired, barely giving Scarecrow the split second he needed to duck back into the crow's nest.

While they were still reloading, Scarecrow flung himself out of the crow's nest, sliding down a rope till he reached the deck. Have to find out who's using magic, Scarecrow thought, as the pirates dropped their crossbows in favor of short-range weapons.

They advanced slowly, cautiously. "Isn't this kind of unfair?" asked Scarecrow. "I mean, seven of you, one using magic, against one of me? You don't stand a chance. You can still withdraw if you like."

They continued their advance. Oh well, it was worth a shot. Scarecrow still didn't draw his own blades. Just a moment longer... now!

Without warning, Scarecrow leaped at one of them, grabbing his victim, and sending them both flying up into the air, only to come crashing down with a Suplex that even Sabin would be proud of. They crashed through the deck, straight into the empty cargo hold.

The pirates blinked. A Suplex? Since when had Duncan taken on a new apprentice? One of them creeped up next to the edge, peering down...

The knife went in straight between the eyes, as Scarecrow had planned. He then leaped back out of the hold. Only five left. He whipped out a long- sword.

"Lit3!" Electrical energies suddenly converged, pulsing through his system. Flung backwards by the force of the energy, Scarecrow landed in a heap against the starboard rail of the ship. He didn't move in the slightest.

The Priest of Death chuckled. He hadn't expected it to be so easy. He pointed to two of the other 'pirates'. "You. Go cut off his head. I'd like a little... souvenir... for our master."

The crossbow bolt lanced through his shoulder, sending waves of pain through his entire system. He turned, realizing he had forgotten the captain of Scarecrow's ship. Greldex was reloading his crossbow frantically.

"YOU DARE!" the priest shouted. "I will summon the forces of darkness against you, fool! NO ONE TOUCHES..."

He broke off as an Aurabolt shocked into him, blasting him forward against the port railing. "...Scarecrow," finished the assassin. The priest noticed to his dismay that the two 'pirates' he had sent to finish Scarecrow were slumped against the deck, face-first in pools of their own blood.

"Doom!" Dark energy rose out of the priest's being to sweep around the assassin, then squeezed together for the kill. Then, just as swiftly, the energy was sucked into Scarecrow's cloak.

Scarecrow stood up straighter, obviously healed by the priest's effort. Another Aurabolt lanced out, sending the priest crashing through the railing, and into the sea. "This isn't finished!" the priest shouted, then was covered by the tranquil waters.

The other two pirates took the opportunity to leap at scarecrow, hacking at him with their mightiest blows. Only one of them even managed to peirce the DarkCloak.

Scarecrow's fist sent one flying over the railing, and he caught the last by the neck, squeezing just hard enough to make the 'pirate' drop his sword.

"Now," Scarecrow began, in his most dangerously quiet voice. "You're going to tell me who wants me dead so badly. Or I'm going to get nasty."

"I won't tell you anything!" the young man snapped.

Scarecrow drew a long-sword with his other hand, and raised it to the 'pirate's neck. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that. NOW! WHO WANTS ME DEAD, SCUM?"

A look of fear passed across his subject's face. "Go to hell!" the young man snapped. His hand darted to the knife at his belt. Scarecrow drove the blade home.

"You first," he muttered, pushing the body into the waters.

*******************

"See you around, Greldex," Scarecrow said, waving at the grizzled sailor. "Try not to get yourself killed. Oh, and..." He fished out a pouch from under his cloak. Tossing the pouch to Greldex, he added, "Here."

Greldex caught it, and looked it over in his hands. What could it be? After a moment of wondering, he opened it. It took him a moment to regain control of himself. These jewels had to be worth thousands!

He looked up to thank Scarecrow, but the cloaked figure had already vanished over the coastline.

The door to the small antechamber swung open, revealing the purple-and- gold robed figure of the High Priest of the Black Plague. The Priest looked even less pleased than usual.

"So..." began the High Priest, turning the full stare of his blood-red eyes upon his underling. "So... you dare return to me with news of failure! And not only did you lose, but six others of our number died! I do not tolerate such incompetence, Death!"

Electricity suddenly crackled from the High Priest's hands, lancing into Death. He doubled over in pain, as the surge continued to grow in strength... stronger... his vision faded, all parts of him concentrating on only the pain... stronger...

"Enough!" shouted the High Priest, and the pain suddenly faded. "Now! If you are unable to find a reason that I should let you live, I will give you as a sacrifice to the Master. He is even better at dealing pain than I am..."

Death cowered, remembering full well the touch of the Master. There was only one thought on his mind now: Scarecrow brought me to this. Scarecrow must die. Death only barely managed to contain his rage, his desire to strike out and destroy Scarecrow. "Great One, I have learned much from my battle with Scarecrow. I have learned of his abilities. I have also seen... his weakness." Death was half-lying, but only half.

"Indeed? What is this weakness?"

"He relies heavily on his magical cloak, which was created with the element I use. Without it, magic will easily destroy him. I alone can unbind this cloak, Great One."

Death didn't even have time to duck as the fist smashed into his face, sending him sprawling across the floor. Blood ran down his smooth, balding head.

"Worm! Your powers are nothing, and you would not even have THEM if I did not grant them to you. Never overestimate your importance!"

Death shifted to a kneeling position. "I am sorry, your Greatness. I only meant to say that the powers you have given me are well-suited to this task. I also aam the only one surviving of those who have fought with him. I know how he fights. I am the ideal choice for this task."

The High Priest stood there, staring, for a long moment. Then he laughed. "No, there was one other who fought Scarecrow and survived. One of the Master of Beast's creatures, this... Aquilan."

Death sneered faintly at the mention of Serevin. He was an ambitious coward, and didn't even deserve to be a member of the Black Plague.

"Serevin wasn't even expected to lift a finger on this project, and yet he brings back better results than you. His Aquilan would have destroyed Scarecrow, if not for a powerful magic item of Scarecrow's, a weapon of sacred power. Serevin also learned that Scarecrow can use magic, not to mention tools. He also demonstrates typical abilities of an assassin, such as knife-throwing, and stealth. Have you anything to add to that?"

Death frowned. So, Serevin had brought better results? One day, Death promised himself, Serevin will grovel at my feet. "My Lord, I have seen him use the skills taught by Duncan, as well. He must be in league..."

"I will decide who is in league with who," the High Priest interrupted. "You have only to tell me what I wish to know. I have decided to grant you one last chance, Death. Several of the orders are preparing a... meeting with this Scarecrow. Now, here is your part..."

Death listened intently, as a slow smile began to creep across his face. The plan was perfect. Scarecrow would die.

The two men were moving slowly down the street, acting very casual. But it would take an untrained eye not to notice the knives they had their hands on, and needless to say, Scarecrow's eyes were not untrained.

There were more of them in every street in South Figaro, all of them slowly closing in on him. If he even tried to attack any of them, the others would be on him in a second. Scarecrow kept moving down the street.

Two more, right in front of him. He was trapped... or, at least, that's what he wanted them to believe.

Scarecrow ducked into a small shop on his right, knowing they would only be seconds behind. He quickly surveyed the room.

It was a small shop, dealing in Relics. There were stairs at the back of the shop, but Scarecrow knew there would be more enemies waiting there. No other assets in the room. Scarecrow frowned.

"For the mess," he said, tossing a bag full of GPs to the shopkeeper, who proceeded to look at him quizically.

"What mess?"

Scarecrow responded by drawing the Guardian and cleaving a hole through the roof. The men that were following him got there just in time to be hit by a curtain of debris. Scarecrow leaped through the hole, vanishing into the night.

******************

Ahh, the Figaran outpost. Just what I need.

Scarecrow quietly slipped into the South Figaran guard outpost, barely even noticing the guards as he sneaked past them.

After a moment's hesitation, he entered the stables, where the black chocobos were kept. He stepped into the light of the room, and began to inspect the birds.

The guard on duty there blinked. How the...? "How did you get here?" he demanded of the black-cloaked figure. Scarecrow didn't say a word.

"Who... who are you? How did you get here? And...and what do you want?" the guard blurted.

"What do I want?" Scarecrow asked, still not looking up from his inspection. "I want one of these birds... this one, I think." He gestured toward one of the smaller ones.

The guard was perplexed. Someone barges in here, somehow getting past all the guards... and he wants a chocobo? "What..." he began, before being interrupted.

"I am prepared to pay you... five thousand."

"We don't sell..."

"Six thousand, then," Scarecrow interrupted.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I just can't sell you a..."

"Would you prefer I just stole it? I bet that would be fun to explain to your superiors. 'Well, this guy in a black cloak just came in and took one.'" Scarecrow laughed. "Unless you think you can stop me?" There was a dangerous edge in his voice, and the guard swallowed.

"Uhh... well, I can't sell it for less than twenty, then."

Scarecrow snorted. "Twenty thousand? For this runt? How 'bout I make you a final offer... seven thousand... and I leave you alive."

The guard paused a moment, considering. "Seven thousand it is. Did you want a bridle, or anything?"

"No, I'll take care of that on my own." Scarecrow counted on seven thousand-pieces, and tossed them to the guard. "Oh yes, and..." he produced a package from the folds of his cloak and tossed it to the guard. "Give this to Edgar."

With that, Scarecrow turned, vanishing into the night with his newly-owned chocobo. The guard looked at the package lying near his feet. There was a single word on it. Scarecrow.

"Arianox," he called to the black dove. It appeared in the window. "Bring our most esteemed friend Scarecrow the following message: 'I found the knife a trifle amusing. Were you trying to prove some sort of point? I have returned a gift you might find interesting.' Carry this with you." Edgar handed the bird a cloth-wrapped object and laughed.

At the thought, Scarecrow became morose. His career, his agents... it all seemed so pointless, without...

But I can't quit now. This is my only option. Scarecrow sighed, looking down at the empty desert...

Well, not quite empty. Sabin was trekking through the desert, just below. Finally...

Scarecrow swooped in, preparing for his meeting with Sabin.

**********************

Sabin looked up. He was sure he had seen SOMEthing. What could it be?

He didn't have time to consider very long. Two Nomads leaped over the top of a nearby dune, drawing their curved swords.

The Nomads had always been peaceful, but recently... they had begun attacking random travellers, ever since Kefka was killed. No, ever since...

Edgar. That had to be part of it, somehow. First Edgar was acting strangely, and now...

Sabin broke off his train of thought as the two Nomads rushed him. He leaped backwards, just out of reach of their swords. Then he went into a spin, mustering all his energy for an Air Blade. The air swirled around him, caught him in his spin. Sabin was one with the air, part of the air... now!

He unleashed the energy in a massive flurry of wind, wind that bit deep into the Nomads. They struggled against it, managing to remain standing even in the full force of the gust.

Sabin blinked. He had had no idea that the Nomads were strong enough to stand up to that much force. He prepared for another attack.

Meanwhile, one of the Nomads touched the other on the shoulder, the first sign of communication Sabin had yet seen the Nomads use. In surprise, he lost concentration for a moment, breaking out of his Blitz. The second Nomad ran off into the desert, leaving only the one...

Moving with a speed that rivaled Sabin's own, the Nomad leaped at Sabin, coming down in a wicked arc with his sword. Sabin caught it with his claws, but the force of the Nomad's leap knocked sent him sprawling.

The next thing he knew the Nomad was above him, trying to force that curved sword past Sabin's defenses, and into the heart. Sabin struggled, stopping the blade only inches from his chest. The Nomad was too close, have to get...

"AWAY!" he shouted, calling on adrenaline reserves to add to his strength. The Nomad was flung back, the curved sword slipping out of reach.

Sabin got to his feet at the same moment the Nomad did. He forced himself to concentrate, ignoring the fact that the Nomad was beginning a leap toward him...

Sabin moved abruptly, shooting toward the approaching Nomad. Fists and feet went into a flurry of motion, slamming into the Nomad again and again, as Sabin pivoted around the still-leaping Nomad.

A second later, it was over. A Bum Rush to make Duncan proud, thought Sabin. He walked up to the battered form of the Nomad. The Nomad was clothed in the desert browns that all the Nomads wore... except...

The dusty veil had fallen away from the Nomad's face, revealing the face of a very young woman. Sabin frowned. He never liked it when women got caught up in things like this. I wish it could have been different, he thought, staring down at the wrecked body.

A deep, throaty laugh resounded across the desert, and Sabin looked up. Who the...?

There was a black-cloaked figure standing at the top of a nearby dune. It had no weapons drawn, but something told Sabin this was not someone who even needed them.

"Well met, Prince Sabin." The deep voice echoed across the desert, seeming to come from all directions at once.

"Who are you?" Sabin shouted.

"Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Scarecrow. Perhaps you have heard of me. No matter. I am a professional bounty hunter."

"I suppose that means this was no chance meeting. I won't be going in easily." Sabin raised his claws, preparing for a fight.

Scarecrow laughed. "If I had wanted you dead, you would be dead already. Your meager powers are nothing to me, and you would not even have seen me in time to use them."

Sabin kept his claws up, just in case. "Then what do you want?"

Scarecrow drew a small parchment from inside his cloak. "This is a job offer. The offer has been made to pay me two hundred thousand for your untimely demise. However, I have not yet accepted the mission, as I don't really feel like killing you."

Sabin raised one eyebrow. There had to be a catch.

"I suppose you are wondering: what's the catch? Well, I still have to make a living, and if I don't get my money one way... Anyway, if you can come up with two hundred thousand, I will agree to ignore this job offer completely. Otherwise... well, I'm sure the prince of Figaro can come up with that much money."

Scarecrow frowned. He did have enough to cover for that, but... "How do I know you won't kill me anyway? And why should I pay you anything? I could take you on." Actually, Sabin was unsure, but it would be a mistake to give in too easily.

"First, all good bounty hunters have a code of honor. Otherwise, their employers can never know that they won't just take the money and run, or some such. I happen to be a good bounty hunter. When I give you my word, be assured that I will keep it. Also, if I killed you, I could simply take your money. Why would I want to bargain now?

"Second, it would be a... mistake to think you could defeat me. As a bounty hunter, one-on-one combat is my specialty. I am strong enough even to survive your fabled Bum Rush... and strong enough to throw them myself." As a demonstration, Scarecrow raised his hands, firing an Aurabolt just over Sabin's head.

Sabin blinked. Who had taught...? No matter. He reached into his pouch. Yes, he had just enough to cover this bill. "All right, I believe you. Now, if I give you the money, will you tell me why you aren't just going to kill me?"

Scarecrow paused. "Very well." He reached out one hand, deftly catching the heavy purse Sabin tossed him. He pocketed it before speaking. "There is someone else who's been looking for you."

Sabin rolled his eyes. All of a sudden, everyone seemed to want him dead.

"An old friend of yours, I believe," Scarecrow continued. "He has offered fifty thousand for each one of you I can find."

"Each one of who?" Sabin asked.

Scarecrow went on, ignoring the question. "He was at South Figaro a short time ago, but I believe you will find him in Maranda now. In case you hadn't heard, undead legions of your brother are approaching Maranda."

Sabin blinked. Undead legions... Edgar? Was the whole world going insane?

"I believe your friend's name is... Banon."