Butz tore off a strip from his traveller's cloak to bind the cuts across his left arm. As he bandaged his wound, he began to take in his surroundings. The burning red of the skies immediately told him that he was far from home.

"Well, Boco, look where your master's foolish curiosity has led us," Butz remarked to his companion.

The chocobo's response was intoned more as a statement of wonderment than as a chiding of his master. It was not so much his master's previous action, which was the not so clean dispatching of a pair of alien predators, that invoked this particular reaction, but the fact that they were clearly far from Lix. The avian's eyes would not lie fixed to any single spot. Boco vigorously scanned the land for even the slightest grain of comfortable familiarity.

As the bird searched, Butz kneeled down for a closer look at his assailants. Having never been much of a scholar, Butz's only conclusions were "big, green bugs".

"At least they don't smell," he thought to himself. Still, he regretted killing them. It was not so much the gash across his arm, and it was damned painful, but a nest of grubs nearby. Apparently, he was the one who had done the evil. A thousand he would curse Exdeath and the nothingness which had led him here.

He began to approach Boco's saddlebag for some food, when suddenly the great bird shrieked. In the chocobo dialect of shrieks, coos, and chirps, the words for "look over there" were not particularly easy on human ears. Still, Butz had neither the opportunity to cover his ears, nor the luxury of addressing the anguish in them. The chocobo began running towards what he had seen. Butz reacted quickly to restrain the chocobo. Unfortunately, he only managed to latch his hands on to the saddle bag. The bag was fastened tightly to the bird, which could be interpreted as boon or bane. Boco dragged Butz across the field in blissful ignorance. Although this gave Butz a firsthand chance to survey the new terrain, he noted with considerable displeasure that the dirt of this world lacked the tangy aftertaste of the dirt back home. Eventually the bird allowed his master to rest. Butz's mind began the formation of a n above average scolding. "Bad Boco" just wouldn't do for a felony of this scale. As his mind worked, his mouth began the unenviable task of spitting out the dirt, with his shirt sleeve aiding with that hard-to- reach dirt in between his teeth.

He approached the bird with the perfect lecture, then saw the object of Boco's attention. Boco was busy accosting a female chocobo (Butz was one of the few humans who could differentiate on sight). The lecture long gone from his thoughts, Butz gave Boco a healthy smack over the head. "Now what would Coco and kids think?" he asked the chocobo. Butz was completely oblivious to the approaching figure.

Butz resigned himself to examining his discovery alone. The massive building in the distance fit no architetural scheme common to his land. He walked towards it eagerly, in hopes of finding something... anything which would give him a better idea of where he was.

Twelve minutes of foot travel led him to the gates of the opera house. Outside a sign was posted in several languages. He barely recognized one of them. It was Mysidian... definitely. This relieved him considerably. After examining it for some time the gates of the opera house opened silently. "Excuse me, are you here for the job?" a tall, stern, and impeccably groomed man asked him. By chance the man had seen him reading the Mysidian portion of the sign and addressed him in that language.

Butz had learned quite a bit of it while doing research at the great library, but was more adept at speaking than literacy. "Uhh, yes... yes I am" he replied in heavily accented Mysidian.

"Please come with me," said the man as he returned through the gates.

Butz's eyes swayed left and right as he examined the hallway of the opera house. Brightly hued tapestries and exquisite paintings dominated the walls. Eventually he and the Mysidian-speaking man halted before a pair apparently having a quarrel. A short wild haired old man was ranting to the Impressario, "How can it be performed? How... without the heroes here to witness it? This is my masterpiece! my magnum opus! my-"

"I assure you that even now we are seeking them out, Mr. Surgeit," the Impresario replied.

Surgeit continued, "That has been your response for the last several weeks! To date none of your runners have returned, no doubt either dead or abandoning his mission!"

"I'm sure you know that the world has not completely recovered from the near ruin at the hands of Kefka. Besides, it's not as if they all wish to be found," the Impresario replied.

This apparently angered Surgeit even more. "Are you suggesting that they do not wish to attend the premier of my masterwork?" Surgeit screamed.

The Impresario maintained his composure and curtly replied, "No, not at all. I merely meant that they... perhaps they want to settle down and live what lives they did before the whole Kefka debacle. They only want to return to normalcy."

"Oh, I see" said Surgeit, apparently not completely convinced.

"Uh, look, we've just hired a new runner to find them," the Impresario said.

As Mysidian was a common language amongst scholars and writers, Butz managed to catch the entire conversation. He stepped foward as the impressario and Surgeit looked to him. "Uhh... hi!" he attempted.

Surgeit, appearing somewhat annoyed, intoned to the Impresario, "We need strong warriors for a task like this. You haven't been hiring students have you?"

"No, of course not... our newest messenger can speak a wealth of languages, which naturally will be a boon" the Impresario improvised.

"Yeah, yeah, but can he fight? We've already lost too many to wandering beasts," Surgeit inquired.

"Oh... naturally. If not, he would not be here at all! Why... um... excuse me, lad, but what was your name again?"

"Butz Klauser, sir," Butz replied.

The Impresario continued, "Butz here is the finest warrior in the area... no beast is his match." Then he turned to Butz.

"Uh, yes, I am a warrior most skilled," Butz added.

"Where is your sword and armor then?" Surgeit asked.

"Umm... in deference to this establishment, which was built to encourage art, I left them outside with my steed," Butz answered. In truth, he had brought little more than a hunting knife and was hoping to take the job as replacement harpist.

"Alright, he's your man. Send him out," Surgeit finally conceded.

Butz wasn't sure whether he should be relieved or nauseous.

To this Butz replied, "Actually, I'm a musician... but fighting is something I'm somewhat capable of as well."

Eyeing Butz suspiciously, the Impresario continued, "Well, Mr. Surgeit also brought up the point of you lacking the trappings of a fighter. So where, pray tell, is your sword?"

In truth Butz carried no weapon with him. After the defeat of Exdeath, Butz wanted to retire from adventuring and live on the countless hoard of treasure his adventuring had acquired. His personal sidearms Ragnarok, and Strato sat over his fireplace as decorations. Still, he had to convince the Impresario. Without warning he proceeded to drive his fist elbow deep into the stone wall. "I hope this will suffice as a weapon," he calmly asked.

The Impresario was taken aback. Only the grandmaster Duncan and his star pupil Sabin Figaro were likely capable of such a feat of power. After regaining his composure, he replied, "Quite impressive, lad... in fact, much better than what the other emissaries showed me. Well, let's just get down to business. Mr. Surgeit is willing to offer 50,000 GP for each hero that attends the premier. If you find them all then he will add a bonus of 200,000. If you manage to find them all then you will be rich beyond the grandest dreams of avarice. So what is your decision, Butz?"

Butz had already thought about his answer. "I'll need a few things."

An hour later most of his requests were fulfilled. Food and water took a back seat to maps and language texts. There was little in terms of protective gear beyond the painted armor and costume housed in the storage closets. After assembling most of his gear, the Impresario approached him with a pouch. "All of my hopes are with you, boy. There's some money in this pouch to cover your expenses, as well a traveller's compass. May the gods bless you on your voyage."

"I will find them, sir," Butz replied while nodding.

"Aahhhhhhhh!" screamed Surgeit. "Monster!"

Butz immediately rushed to the dining hall from whence the shriek had come. Surgeit had backed himself into a small corner. On the table, Boco was busy menacing a rather large pot of vegetable stew. With just the slightest excess of overacting, Butz called out, "Don't worry, Mr. Surgeit. I'll vanquish this foul fowl!" Butz picked up a rather imposing meat cleaver and gave Boco a wink. Boco immediately dashed for the exit with Butz giving chase.

As they careened out the door the Impresario entered. "Wonder what that was about," he mused.

When they were out of sight of the opera house, Butz mounted Boco. "Do you know what kind of trouble you could have gotten us into?" he screamed. The bird looked at him innocently and chirped. But Butz was tired and lacked the strength to chide the bird much further. The rest of the day was actually quite peaceful.

* - * - *

Thunder pealed across the heavens. A great storm was in readiness to drown the whole land. The pair had wandered for several weeks. In that time Butz had learned several things besides the fact that they were getting nowhere fast. Firstly, the major language of the land was Gestahlish, named after the former emperor, but Figaran of the realm of Figaro was fast becoming that in wake of the empire's fall. Secondly, both of those tongues as well as many of those dialects were very close to Mysidian, which allowed Butz to pick up a good deal of both languages. Finally, something was very different about magic in this place. He found most of his spells functioning wildly or not at all. Strangely, that fact had done nothing to deter him from attempting to teleport himself and Boco to the hamlet they had left half a day ago. Anything was better than standing aimlessly in the rain. He clasped his hands together and began the incantations. In a flash of light Butz and Boco reappeared exactly two feet from where they began. Boco gave a chirp of irritation. Again Butz attempted the spell.

"Hey, it's nice and warm here!" Butz remarked. In agreement Boco shook all of the water off of his feathers, once again disproving the cliche "like water off a chocobo's back". Unfortunately, someone other than Butz was caught in the crossfire.

"Who are you!" Cyan asked as he assumed a defensive position.

Butz's right hand began pushing his bangs aside as he took his first good look at their neighbor. He glanced and blinked for a while before reaching into his pack for a small scroll. On the scroll was a drawing of Cyan, one of the heroes he sought.

"Omigod, aren't you Spam Girlie-mon?" Butz asked with enthusiasm. "This is great! After weeks of trudging and riding, I've finally found one... only... thirteen more to go, still, this is a good start and-"

"Excuse me, lad, may I have a word in edgewise?" Cyan asked with slight annoyance.

"Dad!" Koro rushed over to Roco and shook him. "C'mon, Dad! Wake up! We gotta get outta here! Dad?"

Roco replied, rasping and coughing, "Son! Get out of here! Figaro did this! Go, before the whole castle falls apart! Cyan is probably still alive. Go!" Doma shook violently. A gaping pit opened up, and Roco was lost from sight.

"DAD!" Koro screamed. Another tremor happened and Koro blacked out.

* - * - *

When Koro awoke, he saw that the damage to Doma was mainly done. Bodies lay strewn everywhere. Columns were laying across the windows, blocking the sun.

A few people were still alive. They were crying and laying close to loved ones. A man and a women sat next to their dead child. An elderly woman lay crying next to her crumpled husband, who was dead.

Koro sat up and looked around.

"Dad?" Koro walked around and looked for Roco. "Dad!"

A Doma sentry sat in a chair, nursing a broken arm. "Sorry, son. I saw your father Roco fall in to a pit. Good man, him."

"No! He's not dead! He's alive. I know it!" Koro walked over to where the sentry sat.

"Really, boy. I saw him fall. But for now, we gotta get out of this place. Here. Help me get up." Koro slowly helped the man to his feet. "Thanks, son."

The man organized the people. He had them start digging.

Some people started yelling for help.

"Help!"

"Anyone! We're stuck down here! Help!"

Within a while, a man heard their yells and broke through the wall from outside. He began evacuating the people.

As Koro passed the man, he talked to him. "What's your name, mister?"

"My name's Butz. Come on, now. Move along."

Outside, Koro spotted Cyan. He looked really angry. Koro walked up to him to talk to him. Cyan had the people assembled and gave a speech to calm them down.

'What now?' thought Koro.

Butz had hoped that his fruitless search was due to his ineptness rather than the lack of survivors. He had found a few children, but sadly none of their parents. He hoped that he would not have to tell them that their parents were gone. "Sir Garamonde," he called out, mentally patting himself on the back for finally getting it right. "Sir Garamonde!" Cyan remained motionless. Butz waited for a response... waited... waited... "Spam Girliemon," he finally screamed out. Still Cyan was unmoved. Butz angrily stomped towards him. "King Cyan, perhaps it is beneath his lordship to do this, but perhaps you could cease the brooding for a while, and aid me in searching," Butz said as he approached.

Cyan looked down for a moment then turned his eyes skyward. "There is nothing left for us here, Butz. The only thing we have left is to bring hell to the doorsteps of those responsible!"

"What about the survivors? Does their king not owe them anything? Vengeance will not fill the stomachs of those children!" Butz responded with renewed vigor.

"What can I do? I have no kingdom... no gold... no food. Will my katana feed them? There has been no suitable game for miles since the poisoning of the river. I have never been a king. I am warrior first and foremost, and my duties as a warrior is to return these horrors upon Edgar a thousand-fold!".

Butz, seeing that his line of arguing had little effect, attempted a different approach. "Well, what about your queen and the heir royale? Surely you must have some concern for them?" he asked with just a teaspoon of venom thrown in.

Butz had reopened old wounds in Cyan. Cyan turned to Butz and for the first time showed just how tired and old he was to Butz. "I have no queen... no son... nothing left, not even the pile of stones I called home. I am king no longer, for there is no Doma." Butz saw a lone tear stream down from the man who had only revenge to hold on to.

A boy of perhaps twelve approached Cyan. "King Cyan, we'll get them, won't we?" he asked while trying to stand as straight and as tall as possible. "We'll show them not to mess with Doma!" he shouted as if calling Heaven and Earth to witness as he stood up even higher than his body would allow, then he collapsed on to the unforgiving hardness of the earth below.

Butz squatted down to help the boy. "Are you alright, child?"

"I'm not a child!" the boy stated proudly. "Though I am a little hungry," he said, smiling.

Butz reached into his vest and thoroughly searched until, "Aha!" he exclaimed as he pulled out a small box of Choco-bos. "These are devilishly sweet." he said as he handed the boy a piece.

"Butz, I'll not have you raise the children of Doma on bird-shaped sugar confections!" Cyan stated as he intercepted the candy.

"I thought you said there was no Doma," Butz asked dryly.

"How could I refute him?" Cyan asked as he helped the boy to his feet.

The boy dusted himself off. "We'll rebuild Doma and make it bigger and beautifuler than ever!"

Butz barely managed to stop himself from correcting the boy in his glory. As Butz got up he noted that Cyan was busy chewing on something. "Say, these are good. Where'd you get them?" Cyan asked after finishing the Choco-bo. Butz and Cyan laughed for the first time in a long time.

* - * - *

The search after that exchange proved more fruitful than expected. A few hundred had survived, though few families were reunited. " So what do I do now Butz?" Cyan asked.

Butz blinked a few times. "I dunno. I guess you give a long moving speech or something."

"Wha...? I can't do that..." Cyan said, but to no avail as Butz dragged him up to the center of the town square.

"You'll do fine!" Butz said.

Cyan clearing his throat. "Ur... ahem... *cough*... Ah... People of Doma, I know of the horror that has struck our land, and I am afraid Figaro is at fault. We can not stay here longer, for they will likely send their legions to pick off any survivors. I did not believe I would say this, but we must abandon our home for now. I know that your fathers' and father's fathers' bones are buried in this soil, but for the sake of the children and their children, we must leave. I know that it is not easy to leave your home, and that the trek will be brutal to wherever we go. I wish that there was another choice, but there is not. Our husbands and wives lie dead. Our armies are broken. But we shall return, for there is no Doma without this land. That is my promise as you king! This land will be ours forever!"

Butz's brow furrowed. "Kind of a rash decision, to leave and all."

Cyan looked back. "It is right and necessary."

Butz paused and then said, "Well, at least you could have done something for their morale... something joyful and pleasant."

Cyan kept an even stare. "I don't do pleasant."

"This ought to be large enough... at least for me," Butz said as he finally cleared what looked to be a sufficient entrance. With a little effort and a world of cuts and nicks, Butz squeezed himself through the hole. "Hand me the torch, Boco!" Butz called back, only to recieve it face-first through the hole. "Damned bird knows me too well." Butz slowly searched his tunic for his tinder box. In a scant few moments the torch was lit and Butz made his way down the hall. He was surprised, more than relieved, at the relative lack of damage to the castle. Still he had little time to assess the level of damage. In his flight down the corridor he passed the corpses of a few guardsmen wishing that he could do something, but presently he owed his allegiance to the living. Eventually he reached the throne room.

Cyan had told him to search behind the throne for a secret lever. Upon searching he saw that the level was as secreted as freshly peeled onions. Still it would save him time, so he pulled on the oh so conspicuous lever. He failed to remember Cyan saying, "And whatever you do, don't pull the obvious one!" The click that followed unnerved him to no end, but he managed to duck anyway. Nothing occured after a few minutes, so he assumed that the trap mechanism must have been damaged by the assault. Butz continued looking, but found nothing. He tried to remember what Cyan's words were, but they slipped his mind. He kicked the throne over in frustration, but instead of falling it bent over, revealing a small cache beneath it. Butz, deliriously happy with this development, went down without hesitation.

Within the confines of Doma's treasure troves were swords. Big ones, little ones, imported ones, and others Butz had never concieved of. He gazed at them longingly, but one stood out in his eyes. "Ragnarok," he quietly intoned, not even wondering how it got here. He unsheathed the blade, and allowed its crimson radiance to flood the room. The light allowed him to see another room nearby which housed other weapons as well as a horde of gemstones. Butz began the long daunting task of gathering with the zeal of a boy alone in a candy store.

"So, have you comepleted the assessment, Osric?" Cyan asked.

"Yes, my liege. 87 men, 112 women, and 61 children, for a total of 260 people. Unfortunately, many are not travel-worthy," Osric answered.

"Hmm, what about a ship? Have any of the runners found a seaworthy vessel?" Cyan asked again with knowledge that the answer would likely be no.

Osric looked down. "I am afraid that all of our vessels were destroyed by the Light, sire."

Cyan thought for a moment. "What of the Nautilus? Was that counted amongst the damaged?"

Osric looked surprised. "The Nautilus, sir? That was decomissioned years ago. It is certainly in no state to travel the ocean, much less carry the people of Doma to safety."

"But was it damaged? My last recollection places it in the castle's underground waterway. Since the castle suffered the least damage, I can only hope that the Nautilus is intact."

Osric replied, "I'll have my people look, sire."

"See that you do," Cyan answered. But even if the Nautilus was in one piece, Cyan had no idea about what to do with it. Doma had no skilled engineers. Cyan could only hope that somehow it still functioned.

The runners returned soon and gave their report. "The Nautilus is intact, though we dare not approach it for fear of worsening its condition" they answered.

"Alright, dismissed," Osric ordered. "What shall we do now, sire?"

Cyan thought for a moment - then, "Ahhh! Monster!" screamed a group gathering food.

"It came from the castle entrance!" Osric called out.

"Hurry, lads, pick up a weapon and follow me," Cyan ordered as he ran and drew his sword.

It stood before him. It was as tall as a man, but clearly alien in nature. Sharp metal blades jutted from every point of its body. It wielded wicked spears in each hand. Cyan approached it slowly and then said, "Butz... is that you?"

"You've got a nice collection down there. I couldn't bear leaving anything behind," Butz responded. He was decked out with what seemed to be everything in the treasure room. Bandoliers of throwing knives and shuriken circled his calves, thighs, waist, wrists, biceps, and torso. Tied to his waist were Ragnarok, Strato, a matching wakizashi, and a chain whip. In his backpack were the other swords, axes, hammers, and maces. He held a pair of flying dragon spears in his hands.

"Be careful not to impale yourself," Cyan said with a slight smirk.

"Boco's getting the rest," said Butz as he pointed to the chocobo. Boco huffed, puffed, and panted as he dragged a huge sack the size of three chocobos. Each time he stopped to rest a few jewels fell from the bag.

"You didn't have to take all of it," Cyan said to Butz.

Butz replied, "I didn't. This is barely a quarter. Most of the stuff is still in the other room."

"What other room? Oh, forget it. We have other pressing matters."

Cyan, Butz, and Osric headed for the Nautilus. Its steel hull was unmarred by rust, but time had done damage to other components.

"Where'd this come from?" Butz asked as he went down the length of the ship.

Osric answered, "This vessel was found shortly after the great war. We, not being a nation of engineers, have only learned how to use the most basic functions. Mainly its engine which runs on steam power. Unfortunately, the engine broke eventually, and we have since been unable to use it."

Butz contemplated for a while. "I'm no engineer, nor will the wind carry this vessel very far considering its metallic hull -"

"So what is the point of being here?" Osric interrupted.

Cyan raised his hand. "Let the boy finish, Osric."

Clearing his throat, Butz continued, "But those are not the only ways to move a ship across the waves. Let's have the thing moved outdoors. I wish to try something."

It took some time, but the great vessel was eventually brought to the harbor. Butz sat down and hoped that this would work. "Syldra, great dragon of the ocean, I bid thee come and aid me as you would your dead mistress." Nothing happened... wait, was that a fin? Great Syldra raised its head from the waters, flooding the docks. The silver serpent's size rivaled even that of mighty Leviathan's. The people of Doma ran from the creature knowing surely that the end had come. Cyan and Osric drew their weapons to fight the titan. "Wait!" Butz cried out. The king and his vassal looked at Butz with befuddlement. "This is how the Nautilus will once again rule the seas!" Butz stated proudly.

"This is my pal Syldra!" Butz answered with a smile. He would have put his arm around the dragon to push the point home, but that would have meant quite a swim.

Cyan gaped for an eternity of milliseconds and finally said, "I thought you said you just got here. How'd you find this thing? In the waters of Doma no less!"

Butz stopped to think about how he would frame his response. "Well, Syldra's not from around here. I called Syldra from the Land of Summoned Monsters. and poof!, instant cholesterol-free water dragon!" He smiled again.

"But the espers are gone! There is no more magic!" Cyan ranted again. "How did you summon this thing?"

Butz began his explanation. "One needs magical energy to summon the monsters of the outer worlds. The mana becomes the energy that opens the gate as well as payment for services rendered. You don't really master the creature... it's kinda like a bargain with your mystical power being the credit. I have no idea what happened to my powers since I got here, though my lores still work. My mystical energy fluctuates wildly, so I used a special technique known only to the most powerful of callers. I opened a random gate and tried to pull Syldra out. There was little chance that would succeed, but I guess I got lucky in this case. The gate is an innate ability that is not based on mana, but how familiar one is with the outer planes. It has something to do with planetary alignment, though I could never figure out what -"

Cyan interrupted. "Forget it. I'm resigned to stop questioning what you do lest you confuse me further. I'll take your word that the dragon won't harm the people."

"Syldra? Syldra's as gentle as a puppy, except when she's hungry, angry, depressed, moody, hungry... uh, I'm not making you any more confident about this idea, huh?" said Butz, realizing that he should stop.

"No," said Cyan bluntly.

Butz stopped then began, "Uh, she does tricks! Syldra! Roll over!"

"No!" Cyan said this time with considerably more passion and intensity, but it was too late. The dragon's turning sent a wave which knocked over Butz and Cyan.

"Ooh, really bad idea," Butz remarked.

Cyan said nothing. He just began drying himself off.

By now most of Doma had headed for the gates except for one child. Koro's eyes dilated. "Wow! I've always wanted to see a real dragon!" he said as he ran towards the pier. He arrived just in time to watch Syldra's aquabatics and the mini-tsunami which knocked over Cyan and Butz. "Cool! Does it know any other tricks? C'mon, dragon, uhh, leap out of the water!" shouted Koro.

A massive silhouette loomed over Cyan and Butz. They knew what was coming. Cyan, accepting his fate held out his arms. "Take me...". Butz managed to open up an umbrella and held it up.

*SPLUSH*

Koro was even more excited. "Whoa! Uh, hey, dragon, how about you -"

Cyan moved quickly and cupped the boy's mouth. "That's enough for today, Koro! I'm sure Ms. Dragon is quite tired now. Perhaps tommorrow," Cyan said as he brought the boy back while trying to think of a way to convince the people of Doma just how safe the dragon was. But first he would have to convince himself.

After a short oratory about how the heavens had blessed Doma with a powerful creature to aid them in their righteous quest, Cyan brought the people back to the Nautilus. By then Butz had finished attaching Syldra's collar securely to the ship. They boarded slowly along with their supplies. The Nautilus barely managed to fit the 262 people. Boco was the last aboard, as he dragged the heavy bag. Seeing it reminded Cyan of something he wanted to ask Butz.

As Butz was making final checks on the collar fasteners, Cyan asked, "So what is this about a hidden treasure room?"

"Not much of intrest. Just a few thousand gemstones... oh, and this," Butz answered as he threw to Cyan a manual.

Cyan looked at it in disbelief. It was entitled "Garamonde family swordstyle by Astraph Garamonde". Cyan looked up at Butz. "Butz, do you know what you've found?"

Butz looked back down as his hands checked on one of the safety locks. "It's a warrior's manual. So what? Haven't you mastered all eight moves of your family sword technique?".

"But this is by Astraph Garamonde himself. The first and greatest royal knight of Doma!"

One particular lock was irritating Butz to no end, but he turned back and answered, "Well, I wish he was here. We need all the help that we can get!" then turned back to the lock.

Cyan, realizing that Butz was oblivious to his family history, finally stated, "It contains the ninth technique of the Garamonde Sword Style."

Butz and Cyan sat down on the pier and Cyan began his explanation. "Astraph Garamonde was the best friend of the first king of Doma. Together they founded the nation of Doma, and Astraph's heirs would become the leaders of the royal knights. Over the generations the Garamonde swordsmen would be known as the finest in the world. Even with only the first six moves they could defeat any other warrior. But with this reputation, many fell lax in their training. My own father only learned the first five. When I learned of this I resolved to learn all of the techniques. Unfortunately, the manuscripts left by Astraph documented only the first eight. Before I mastered the Cleave strike I learned of the ninth from old letters written by Astraph, and I have searched long for it since. But I was growing old. I had hoped that my son Owain would learn it, but he is gone. Nonetheless, to uphold the honor of the family name, the last Garamonde must master all nine moves, as the first did."

And of the entire story, the part Butz remembered most clearly was "the last Garamonde."

Butz barely managed to catch the dark shape etching itself across the cloudy sky. "Cyan, look!" he warned.

Though old, Cyan's eyes still bore an unnatural sharpness. "A... purple chocobo... wait, I see a rider... with... the uniform of Figaro!" he cried out.

"An advance scout for a raiding party," Butz thought. "I'll make sure that you never return!" Butz focused on Syldra.

* - * - *

Keyla had flown for hours and Bork began showing signs of wear. Fortunately, Doma was finally in sight. As the pair approached the dock, they saw a massive ship in the harbor. "At least the people of Doma have a retreat," she thought with some relief. As she got closer she could see king Cyan and some other person. She began her descent when suddenly a massive reptilian head rose from the ocean. It stared right at the two and Keyla saw that it could swallow the two whole with no difficulty. She attempted to swerve Bork out of the way, but the chocobo was frozen with fear by Syldra's piercing gaze. When Bork finally attempted to dodge, Syldra's massive head swatted them into the ocean.

* - * - *

"Got her weapons, Osric?" Cyan asked.

"An autocrossbow and some blade arms, sir," answered Osric.

"So let's get some answers!" exclaimed Butz.

"Awaken, dog of Figaro!" Cyan coldly intoned.

Keyla's eyes eventually opened. She was drenched, but not drowned. She finally managed to take in her situation. She was utterly surrounded by angry Domans.

"Jump, Syldra! Jump!" The dragon jumped out of the water. "Wow! A real live dragon!"

The survivors of Doma were being loaded on the ship Nautilus. Butz had called Syldra from some Land of Summoned Monsters. 'Wherever that is,' thought Koro. Butz said that Syldra would pull the Nautilus. Most of the citizens looked doubtful. But as Koro looked up at Syldra, he could easily believe it.

As Koro sat watching the dragon, someone spotted a person from Figaro approaching on a chocobo. Syldra went over to the person.

"Syldra! Wait!" Koro ran after the dragon.

Syldra scared the chocobo, and the person fell to the ground.

Cyan and Butz approached the rider with some sentries.

"Who's that?" Koro crept over to where the person lay, curious.