One of the men stepped forward. He didn't speak, but there was a question in his eyes.

"I have returned," Scarecrow intoned. He produced a pendant from within the folds of his cloak. "I am Scarecrow." The pendant glowed with an eerie blue light.

The man who had stepped forward only nodded, face still carrying a grim expression. "I had thought it would take more than a measly magical explosion to kill you." His face suddenly cracked into a grin. "It's good to see you again, Scarecrow." He stretched out his left hand.

Scarecrow caught it, locking the other man's hand in his own. "It's good to see you too, Avris."

After a moment, Avris withdrew his hand. "And who's that?" he asked, gesturing toward Graxul, who was just now clambering out of the boat.

"Allow me to introduce Graxul, an Imperial lieutenant. He's decided to join us. He's top quality. He even managed to see through a bluff of mine."

Graxul grinned. "Wasn't able to DO anything about it, though."

"That doesn't matter," Avris said, looking Graxul straight into the eye. "There's maybe three men in the world who could see through the worst of Scarecrow's bluffs. If you can do that, you are a genius."

"What good is being a genius if you can't do anything with what you figured out?"

"That's where I come in. I'm the trainer of the Shattered Island. I teach everybody what they need to know to complement the skills they already have. You, for example, could use some practice sailing. As well as some crossbow lessons."

"How did you... how do you know? You haven't even asked me to shoot a crossbow."

Scarecrow cut in. "Many of the Agents have skills that no one else has. Avris can read people as if they were open books. He's also not bad at everything else. In fact, Avris is one of the few people who asked to join me, not the other way around."

Then Scarecrow turned back to Avris. "I need a quick change of clothes. Haven't been out of these in days. I'll be in my room in half an hour. Tell Jule to meet me there. And get started with Graxul, of course. That'll be all, everyone!" He raised his voice so that the rest of the people nearby could hear.

The crowd dissapated slowly, like the lingering fog. Avris led Graxul off, presumably on a tour of the island.

Alone again, Scarecrow smiled. It was good to be home.

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

Scarecrow frowned as he paced the room. Jule was already five minutes late. In two years, Scarecrow could not recall a single instance when Jule had been late. What was wrong?

The door opened, and in walked Jule.

Scarecrow grinned, as he always did when he saw Jule. She was a young woman, delicately beautiful. Luxurious long blond hair matched perfectly with her deep blue eyes. But that wasn't what Scarecrow was grinning about.

Jule looked delicate, to the point that almost any man would put himself nearly to the grave to prevent an injury from coming to her. She looked the type that would faint at the first sight of blood.

Nothing could be more wrong.

Even before Jule had met Scarecrow, she had taught herself how to manipulate people, how to act casual and innocent while you pumped someone for information, how to convince people of obvious untruths. That was one of her greatest skills, though there was also her self-taught magic, as well as martial arts. All in all, Jule was probably the most perfect spy. She could fit in anywhere, and people would trust her. It was uncanny.

"Well," Jule began, breaking Scarecrow out of his reverie, "I'm sorry I'm late. I had a few friends of yours to get."

"Friends?" Scarecrow cocked an eyebrow, knowing she would not tell him. Rather, it was more than likely that whoever they were, they were waiting just outside the door. Jule wanted them there, so she could see what reaction Scarecrow gave them.

Scarecrow had been the only person yet that Jule could not manipulate. She still didn't know why he did what he did, or even what his real name was. Over the years, a sort of friendly system of annoyance had developed between them. Scarecrow always knew that she would try to get under his skin whatever chance she got. Jule, in turn, knew Scarecrow would never really give her any information at all, unless it was something he wanted her to know. If either of them ever stopped, the other would know something was wrong.

Which meant that unless something was wrong, someone should be coming in right about... now.

Sure enough, the door opened, and in walked...

"Greldex?"

"Aye, lad. When ye left, I took a good hard look at my life. I don't have family, and I don't have many friends. I fig'rd it was high time I did somethin'. And now, I'm glad I did."

"Greldex works as an informant for the world situation, as he gets around a lot. He could also smuggle supplies and weapons to anyone we want." Jule looked at Scarecrow expectantly.

Scarecrow knew that this was her way of asking what exactly the deal was between him and Banon, and why she hadn't yet been told. Scarecrow shook his head. He wasn't in the mood. Besides, he needed to speak to Banon again before he could give her any answers.

Jule nodded, and ushered Greldex out. She then brought in the other friend. This one was a chocobo.

It was the same black chocobo he had acquired from the Figarans. Someone had obviously taken the opportunity to train her a little more, but other than that, she was in exactly the same condition in which Scarecrow had last seen her.

"Where did you find her?" Scarecrow asked.

"She flew here on her own. You don't remember giving her the order to return?" That spark of curiousity filled her eyes again.

"Actually, I'm not quite sure. My memory of what happened is a little hazy."

"Indeed? Well, then, you must not remember attaching a note to her neck. A note that informed us that you were dead, and that we should disband the Agents? It's just as well we didn't."

Scarecrow shook his head. He just didn't remember...

With a hand signal, Jule ordered the chocobo to leave. The door shut on it's way out, a compliment to Jule's still barely functioning magical skills.

"Now," Scarecrow said as soon as the door was closed. "Let's get down to business. I need to know about everything that has happened since I vanished. Starting with Sascha and Akfek. I need to plan my next move."

Settling down in her chair, Jule jumped in to all the changes...

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

The door shut behind Jule, but Scarecrow only barely noticed. He sank to the floor.

Scarecrow had promised himself that when he returned, he would go and do the thing he had always wanted, whatever it cost him... but now it was too late.

All those years he had kept it inside, waiting for the right moment, the moment that would now never come. His dreams were shattered.

Only once before had Scarecrow ever felt so helpless. All those years ago, when his mother had died. When he had been the only one there to bury her. He had wanted to help her, but there had been nothing he could do. Nothing but watch her die.

Scarecrow cried himself to sleep that night, the way he had every day for months after his mother's death.

Scarecrow leaped back, spinning, so that his sword caught his opponents just as it struck. The weapon went skittering to the ground a few feet away.

Before his opponent had a chance to move, Scarecrow raised his blade to the man's throat. "Give it up, Avris."

The other man grinned. "Good session, Scarecrow. However... you wouldn't live to finish this." Avris gestured with his free hand, pointing out the small knife that his other hand was holding to Scarecrow's chest.

Scarecrow blinked through the sweat plastered to his face. How had he missed that? He should've known before the move was even made. What was wrong?

Apparently, Scarecrow wasn't the only one who had noticed. "Is something wrong, Scarecrow?" Avris asked. "You seem... preoccupied."

Scarecrow hesitated a fraction of an instant, wavering. "No. Everything's just fine." He tossed his practice sword into the corner. Without another word, he turned and walked out.

Avris stood there for a long moment, watching the door. He had noticed the hesitation. After all, he thought sardonically, he had been taught by the best.

But what was there he could do about it? Scarecrow never let anyone past his defenses. The only problem with that was that nobody could ever get far enough to heal him...

Avris shook his head. He could only hope Scarecrow straightened himself out soon. Dark times were coming. Dark times, indeed.

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

"...and I want the word spread within a week that I am back, and open for business," Scarecrow continued. "I want EVERYone to know. Our expenses are rising drastically, and we need all the cash we can get. If you have to, have Kungen relieve Sascha and Akfek of some of their funds, but make sure there are no ties to me."

Jule nodded. "Will that be all?"

"Yes. I'm going to be meeting Banon in a few days. Have your report sent to... the Trench. That'll be all."

Scarecrow stroked his chocobo, making last-minute preparations for the journey. He wondered briefly why he was still going on, why he was still bothering. There was no point to any of it anymore. Everything was gone...

"Uh... Scarecrow? There is one last thing. You know Graxul? He is already ready to know."

"That was fast. Send him here."

Jule nodded. Oddly enough, she didn't seem interested in trying to pry information from him right now. Scarecrow shook his head as she walked into the morning mists.

A minute later, Graxul poked out from behind a building, and walked up to stand before Scarecrow.

Graxul seemed to struggle for words. "I want to know..."

"I know what you want," Scarecrow replied. "You want to know why it is that I am Scarecrow and none of them are. You want to know why we have not switched places over the years. Well, I'll tell you."

"There is one thing I can do better than any one else. There is one skill I have that no one can match me at. I kill. People, places, everything. The perfect assassin. When it comes to killing, I am the best there is." Scarecrow bowed his head. "It's the only thing I was ever good at."

Graxul didn't speak. There was nothing he could say. For a moment, time stood still, with memories the only things that still had life.

Scarecrow raised his head. "But that's not all you want, is it? You want to know why I'm worth fighting for. You want to know why you should help someone who kills for money. You want to know that you will never have to compromise your principles while you work for me."

Graxul stared, open-mouthed. "How did you...?"

"It was obvious. You should know that by now."

Graxul shook his head in awe. "So...?"

"I cannot tell you why we do what we do. I have never yet told anyone--even Avris does not know. I can only give you my word that our goals do not put your morals in jeopardy."

Graxul paused before slowly shaking his head. "Not good enough."

"You know I keep my word, Graxul. Everyone here knows it. What's the problem?"

"I don't know a thing about you! What if you decide to keep your word only because it is convenient?"

"Are you saying you don't trust me?" There was a hard edge to Scarecrow's tone, a note of warning.

Graxul gulped, but held his ground. "I don't know you, Scarecrow," he whispered. "No one knows you. How can you expect them to trust you?"

A chill silence swept across the island, and for a moment, Graxul feared he had said too much. Scarecrow was shaking. It took Graxul a minute to realize that Scarecrow was laughing.

"Excellent, Graxul! It is not easy to stand up to me. It is also not easy to reason against pure foolishness. I had to know that you could do it before I was sure you would really work out as an Agent."

Scarecrow hopped onto his chocobo, preparing for departure.

Graxul stepped up to the side of the chocobo. "You still haven't answered my question."

Scarecrow leaned down to whisper in Graxul's ear. "I will not destroy that which you hold sacred. Through me, you will do all that you want, whether you know it or not. I swear it... on my mother's grave."

And then he was gone.

In a way, that was not quite true, however. It had been their Great Master who had killed most of them, after they had all failed to destroy Scarecrow. He had said that he had decided to disband the cult after its many failures, and then proceeded to kill them off, one by one.

Only these seven had escaped that night. Stripped of whatever powers they had possessed, and left without the touch of their eternal master, they wandered for weeks before finally deciding that the Black Plague Cult had one last job to do: they would kill Scarecrow. Then, their Master would accept them again.

Krathe swore again. The only trouble was that Scarecrow had practically vanished. They had heard recently that he was back, and was hiring, but there was no possible way of telling where he was now. Krathe doubted that he would fall for a fake job again.

Which brought them to Jidoor, in hopes that they could find some black-market punk who had some knowledge of where Scarecrow was. It was a lost cause. Nobody here had the faintest idea...

Krathe blinked as he looked up into the sky. Was that... a black chocobo? Figaro's forces had seemingly vanished, so the only person left who owned a black chocobo was Scarecrow. Krathe grinned. The bird was landing in Jidoor.

"Hey, boys, look who's here," Krathe said, pointing to the bird. "Our good friend Scarecrow came to us. Let's see if we can't track him down and pay him a visit. One that he won't ever forget."

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

Scarecrow snuck through the streets of Jidoor. There was no need for anyone to know he was here, yet. Besides, he didn't want anyone knowing why he had come to Jidoor.

Dashing through the shadows, Scarecrow pondered what he remembered of Banon's home base. There was a decent route near the emergency exit that would lead him straight to Banon's chambers. That would do.

Deep in thought, Scarecrow slid past the guards on the emergency exit. He would have to remind Banon to get more observant guards. He could've sneaked by them in his sleep.

The rest of the base was in the same condition. Scarecrow shook his head. It was way too easy.

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

Banon was pacing the floor of his study when Scarecrow sneaked in, through the open door. Banon looked to be in a foul mood, reminiscing on days of old. Scarecrow smiled. He was in for a surprise tonight.

Scarecrow closed the door, just hard enough for Banon to hear it. He whirled to confront the shadowy figure that was Scarecrow.

"Who's there?" Banon demanded.

"Don't you ever worry about assassins?" Scarecrow replied. "This place is easier to get around in than Kefka's!"

Banon squinted, trying to get a better look. "Scarecrow?"

Scarecrow produced a pendant from within his cloak, and raised it so that Banon could see. "In the flesh. I have returned."

"I had heard rumors that you were back in business, but never believed it was possible." Banon shook his head. "How've you been? What happened?"

"I ran into some... trouble. I think you may have problems bigger than Sascha and Akfek. Someone... or something... much, much, bigger."

"I was afraid of that. First Edgar, now them, with all this evil running loose in the world, it was a futile wish that they were the last of it. I don't suppose you know anything else about this... evil."

"Not much. I think you'll be needing all the help you can get on this one. I'd say Kefka was small potatoes to this guy. But then, Kefka was small potatoes to me."

Banon broke into a smile. "Modest as ever, eh, Scarecrow?" He quickly became serious. "My original offer still stands. Fifty thousand for every hero you get to join us."

Scarecrow nodded. "I'll do what I can. I think I know where most of them are. It'll take me time to get them all, though. I assume the rest of your arrangements still stand as well?"

"Except for taking down Edgar, of course. I assume you already know that."

Scarecrow absentmindedly clenched his fists. "Yes, of course. Is there anything new I can help you with?"

"Except for Sascha and Akfek, not much. Thanks anyway. There is one thing I'd like to tell you, though."

Banon paused. "I have chosen a successor. Merine. Perhaps you..."

"Of course I know of her," Scarecrow interrupted. "Go on."

"Well, I believe she has the ability to lead. However, she could use a little bit of experience. I... will be retiring shortly. You have to meet her, Scarecrow. I don't think we can win this war without you, and Merine will be running things soon enough."

Scarecrow hesitated before breaking into laughter. "To think. The grand leader of the Returners needs an assassin scum to save the world. This would make a grand tale."

Banon laughed too. "Sometimes, this is just like old times, my friend. Working together to stop Kefka... what times we had." A long pause followed. "When are you going to take off the mask?" Banon asked at last.

Scarecrow shook his head. "I thought, once Kefka was defeated, I would do it. Now, I may never show the world who I am. My privacy is vital to my survival right now."

Banon only nodded. "I wish you luck, friend. Is there anything you need from me?"

"Yeah. Train your guards to be more observant. I would like at least a challenge getting in and out of this place. And take care, Banon."

Banon nodded, then turned away. Scarecrow slipped out the door.

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

Scarecrow slipped through the corridors, easily evading the small groups of people he sometimes found wandering the base. The guard patrols were few and far between, and it was easy for him to slip past them.

Scarecrow shook his head. That was the problem with the Returners right now. There were still too few of them, and they were still just common folk. They needed more training, or they would never survive what was ahead.

He was almost to the exit, now, and still there had not been even the slightest danger to his secrecy. Rounding a corner, he...

Waiting for Scarecrow just around the corner was a woman. She looked old, though Scarecrow could tell the lines on her face were lines of sorrow, not of age. Scarecrow blinked. She must have known he was coming.

"What was so important about that meeting that I was not invited?" the woman asked. "I WOULD like to know about these things," she added in a slightly rebuking tone.

Scarecrow was still surprised. "Who... are you?"

"I'm Xyo. And you?"

"I am Scarecrow." He paused, wondering if she knew the name. No recognition was visible in her eyes, but Scarecrow was unsure.

"Interesting. I've always been fond of the tall, dark, and mysterious type. Would you care for a drink?"

For the second time in the conversation, Scarecrow was stunned. "Uh... sure." He offered her his arm, and Xyo took it, smiling faintly. They walked out of the base arm in arm, headed for the nearest tavern.

"Why not make it dinner?" Scarecrow asked, having regained most of his grip on the situation.

Xyo smiled faintly. "Why not?" This would be an interesting evening indeed.

He shook his head. No use worrying about it now. Time to concentrate on just who this 'Xyo' was, and why he had NEVER heard of her. Scarecrow knew everyone, period. Well, until Xyo.

He looked up again at the youngish woman. She seemed to be bored, though Scarecrow knew somehow she was watching him, trying to figure him out. There was an odd glint in her eyes that Scarecrow had never seen in any others before.

"So," Scarecrow began the conversation, "what would you like to eat?"

"I'll just have a little fruit. I eat light."

"As do I." Scarecrow flagged down a waitress. He whispered something to her, and slipped the necessary money into her hand.

For a moment there was silence. Then Xyo spoke. "So... 'Scarecrow'... is that your real name?"

"Do you know anyone who names their children Scarecrow?" he countered.

"No. But that doesn't answer the question."

Scarecrow grinned behind his black mask. "You are remarkably perceptive."

Seeing that this was getting her nowhere, Xyo abruptly switched topics. "What were you doing in Banon's quarters?"

"Just talking."

"About what?"

Scarecrow pursed his lips, thinking. "We were talking about business, and reminiscing on old times." Xyo's eyebrow shifted almost imperceptibly. "But you already knew that, didn't you?"

Xyo smiled curtly. "Perhaps. I..."

Xyo broke off as the waitress set a basket of fruit on the table. "Anything else you need?"

"No," Scarecrow replied. He reached into his cloak and fished out a small purse. "An extra hundred for you, miss." He handed the purse to the stunned waitress. She backed off, blinking rapidly at the money in her hand.

Xyo raised one eyebrow. "Are you in the habit of generosity to strangers?"

"You could say that. And what about you, Xyo? Just who are you?"

"I'm just a small-town girl. I'm nobody, really."

"Of course. And I'm the King of Figaro. I just wear this disguise to blend in with the common people." Scarecrow's hand clenched involuntarily.

*A nice trap,* thought Xyo. *He expects me to tell him Edgar is dead, when no 'small-town girl' would know THAT much about current events. A nice trap, but not nice enough.*

"Well then, King Edgar, what are you doing this far south?"

"Just travelling. I've been doing a lot of that recently. Tell me, which 'small town' are you from? I can't quite place your accent."

"Excuse me, but all this talking has made me quite hungry."

"Of course," Scarecrow replied, reaching for a small knife. He slowly cut an apple into pieces, and handed half to Xyo.

They ate, slowly, paying more attention to each other than the fruit. After a moment, Scarecrow reached for another fruit. Without warning, his knife flashed out, straight toward Xyo's face.

Scarecrow stopped, the blade only a hairsbreadth away from Xyo. She didn't even blink. Instead, she just continued eating her apple.

"Imagine," Scarecrow said as he put the knife away, "a small-town girl with no fear of death. How odd."

"Imagine," Xyo replied, "King Edgar not flirting with every girl he meets. Including that waitress, for example. How odd."

"Touche," Scarecrow saluted with an imaginary sabre. "Well then... how about a trade? I'll tell you who I really am if you tell me who you really are."

"And how are either of us to know that the other is telling the truth?"

Scarecrow paused. "I give you my word. Take it or leave it."

"I'll take it. And I, likewise, give you my word to tell the truth. You go first."

"Fine. I'm an assassin, a bounty hunter. I'm a freelancer. Banon's an old friend of mine. I don't do things for free. Banon pays me as anyone else would have to. I don't get involved in things except on a per-job basis. I've never failed a job. That enough for you?"

"What's with the mask? And what's underneath it?"

"I have many reasons for a mask. Concealing my identity, for one. And for the same reason, I hope you won't mind if I don't tell you what's underneath my mask."

"I promise not to tell," Xyo said.

"I'm sorry, Xyo, but that's not good enough. It is vital to my survival that no one knows who I am."

That only made Xyo more curious, but she shrugged and let it go. "Very well. I'm a traveller. I used to use magic, but not anymore. I've learned a lot of other skills during my years. I'm with the New Returners just because it's interesting." Xyo smiled inwardly. She had told him almost nothing, and yet every word had been the truth.

"I see. And where are you really from?"

Xyo blinked at the question. If she told the truth, there would only be more questions. If she lied... Scarecrow was a sharp one. She was not sure she could lie without him knowing.

All this ran through her head in an instant, before she decided on her course of action. "Just as you cannot tell me who you really are, I cannot tell you who I really am."

Scarecrow nodded thoughtfully. He suddenly looked up. "Here. I want you to have this." From within his cloak, he produced an ornate dagger.

As Xyo hefted the blade, she knew it was perfectly balanced for throwing as well. She raised an eyebrow.

"It's a gift," Scarecrow said hastily. "In the..." he broke off suddenly.

"What is it?" Xyo asked. Even as she did so, she noticed seven men that had just entered the tavern. They were all looking straight at Scarecrow.

"Get under the table," Scarecrow ordered. "They're obviously not interested in you, so you'll be safe. Don't worry about me."

The thugs were approaching, circling around the table to get an advantage. Scarecrow's hands clenched in rage. He recognized some of the men. The Black Plague Cult. He was tired of running from them.

*Kill them,* a voice whispered in his mind. *Kill them all.*

*No!* another part of him shouted. *There is no need. You can be out the window before they even make a swing at you. There is no need...*

*Kill them now! If you do not, they will hunt you down and kill you! Is that what you want? To be hunted like an animal?*

Slowly, inexorably, Scarecrow gave in. It had been long since he had finished anyone, and a bloodlust set in, clouding his thoughts.

Scarecrow let out a snarl, and leapt at his opponent...

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

It was over. He didn't remember what exactly had happened. Two tables had been smashed, and the bodies of the thugs littered the ground. Scarecrow shook his head.

*Control,* he reminded himself. *You must control yourself if you are to succeed.* But it was too late. Here, losing control had cost him little. But what if there had been friends around?

*Xyo!* he suddenly remembered. He dropped the sword in his hand, and rushed over to the table they had used. He glanced under it...

But there was no one there. She had vanished.

Scarecrow held a hand to his head. Tossing a pouch of gold to the owner of the tavern for the damages to the place, he rushed out into the night.

Part of his mind tried to work out where he would go next. Perhaps he would go and pay a visit to Sascha and Akfek. Or he could steal one of those orb shards that Celes and her friends had. That could certainly be useful.

Scarecrow half smiled to himself as he soared over the open sea. He could go anywhere. He could do anything he wanted... no. That wasn't quite true. There was one thing he wanted more than anything else, that he would never do, not anymore.

Depression rose up in waves against him. He looked down at the world below him. *How easy it would be to just leap off,* Scarecrow thought. *End all my worries just like that. Perhaps it would save everyone a lot of trouble. Maybe they would all be better off without me.*

Suddenly his bird shook up and down, threatening to throw him from his seat. Scarecrow blinked, looking up. And then his eyes went wide.

Where it had been a clear, sunny day only moments before, storm clouds were now moving in from every direction. Moving in quite fast. Only magic could move them that fast. But what really amazed Scarecrow was that he hadn't seen it coming. Even in the deepest loneliness, he had trained himself to notice things. Now, he seemed to be losing his edge.

A second wall of turbulence slammed into them, then a third. Rain poured down, hard enough that it hurt. Scarecrow counted himself lucky that he had just finished strapping himself onto his chocobo.

Below him, Scarecrow could see only the ocean. They must've flown over it while he was thinking. There was no land in sight, especially not through all that rain. Lightning crackled around them, but didn't hit... yet.

"Did you really think it would be so easy to escape me?" a voice laughed, the harsh words echoing even through the deafening downpour. "Did you really think I'd let you go so easily?"

Scarecrow knew who it was. He didn't even need to ask. "Well, 'Worm', so good of you to join me."

The booming voice laughed again. "I would advise you to be more courteous to those who could kill you."

"Well, when I find someone who could kill me, I'll take your advice."

That earned him another laugh. "I have only allowed you to live this long in hopes that you might... reconsider my offer. As it seems you will not, I must destroy you."

"Actually, I've been thinking about your offer. I'd like to change the deal just a tad. You join me, and maybe I won't kill you."

"Your pathetic excuse for humor will not help you, Scarecrow. You could not even touch me, using your greatest powers. Expending only the tiniest portion of my power, I can utterly annihilate you."

Scarecrow didn't bother responding. Something had suddenly occured to him. He set his chocobo into a dive.

"Whatever you are trying to do, Scarecrow, it won't work. You are too far away from land or shelter for you to survive this storm."

Scarecrow looked down at his bird. It was getting tired, fast. It couldn't hold out against the storm forever. Hoping that his chocobo had enough energy left, he set it to head almost straight up, using the momentum of it's dive to speed it along.

The clouds were only a short distance away. If he could just break through the cloud cover, he would be out of this accursed storm.

Apparently the 'Master' also realized his plan. The rain came down even harder, the wind buffeted them about like a reed, and lightning crackled against them.

Scarecrow held up his sword, using the power of Runic magic to gain energy from the lighning.

The wind and rain still took their toll, however. Scarecrow wasn't sure how much longer his chocobo would last.

And suddenly they were out of the clouds, staring up at clear blue skies. The world seemed so peaceful up here. It was like magic. One moment, they were in the midst of a raging storm, and in the next they were in the most tranquil place Scarecrow had ever been.

The chocobo, exhausted with the effort it had taken to get here, fell unconscious. They plummeted back into the storm.

Booming laughter surrouded them, echoing the sounds of the thunder. They were in a dive, now, a vertical drop that would only end with dashing into the sea.

<Cure2!> Scarecrow spent most of his reserves of magical energy into the spell. The chocobo was still unconscious.

<Cure!> Nothing. <Cure!> Scarecrow spent the very last of his power into the spell. For a moment, nothing happened.

Then the chocobo's eyelids fluttered. Looking down, it suddenly realized what their situation was. It didn't even need Scarecrow's signals to know that it should pull up... hard.

The water loomed up before them. Scarecrow gritted his teeth, hoping to the Goddesses that his bird had enough strength to get them out of this one. Gravity pulled against Scarecrow, threatening to rip him out of the saddle. His straps snapped. His hands barely grasped the pommel of the saddle.

The chocobo glided level with the water for a moment, then managed to pull up, just barely. Scarecrow heaved himself back into his seat.

"Damn you!" he shouted up at the clouds. "At least give me something I can fight, coward!"

The clouds seemed to laugh right back at him. "If you insist."

Scarecrow barely saw the bubbles in the water in time. "Aquilan!" he shouted, veering left hard.

The creature's head shot up out of the water, spraying a mist of deadly fire. Scarecrow's right arm was scorched, but he would live. He swiveled his neck around to get a good look at the creature.

The Aquilan's reptilian head stared right back at him. Scarecrow could swear that it was grinning. It breathed out another jet of flame.

The chocobo swooped low just in time. Another jet, and Scarecrow pulled his bird into a barrel roll to the left.

Scarecrow cursed. There was only one way he could think of to get rid of that head. After they dodged another blast of fire, he stood up on the back of his chocobo.

Scarecrow had only seen that 'Tellah' do it once, but he figured it was worth a shot anyway. He prepared himself for one of those jumps he had seen the young man do.

It should be noted here that Scarecrow's jump went a foot farther than he could usually manage. However, a foot farther was not nearly enough to reach the Aquilan.

Scarecrow plummeted toward the water, tossing a grappling hook back, toward his chocobo. It caught onto something, pulling him forward.

He turned around, then saw it. A huge, white, serpent-like head loomed up before him, mouth open. As he plummeted into the mouth, the last thing Scarecrow wondered was whether his chocobo would survive.

A trace of sadness passed over his father's face. Scarecrow frowned inside. He didn't like it when his father got sad like that. The sadness soon passed, though, and a big smile broke out on his dad's face.

"After that, the robbers settled down, found lovely women to marry, and lived happily ever after."

Scarecrow smiled even wider. "You tell the bestest stories, daddy. When I grow up, I wanna be just like you."

"Me too daddy!" Scarecrow's sister piped up.

For an instant, Scarecrow thought he saw a flash of pain cross his dad's eyes. He wondered what for.

"I hate to interrupt," said a voice from the doorway, "but you all need to go to sleep."

"Do we hafta, mommy?" asked Scarecrow. "Can we have one more story?"

"It's already way past your bedtime," his father said. "Now you get some sleep, and I'll see you in the morning." He gave scarecrow a quick kiss on the cheek. Then he blew out the candle on his way out the door.

Scarecrow tried to get to sleep for a while but it was hard. He tossed and turned, but just couldn't get comfortable. After a while, he decided he just needed some water.

As he left his room, Scarecrow thought he heard a noise downstairs. He decided to go have a look. As he went down the stairs, he saw his father going out the front door. He quickly ran outside, wondering what was going on.

Scarecrow's dad was bundled up in travelling gear and had a large bag thrown over his shoulder. He was quickly walking away from the house.

"Where are you going daddy?" asked Scarecrow. His father turned around slowly. A sad look covered was spread across his face, and this time it didn't go away.

"I have to go away, dear. I... I'm sorry."

"Why do you have to go?"

"I wish I could explain it to you. I just have to go. You take good care of your mother for me, all right?"

"Okay, but... I don't want you to go. Please stay, daddy." Scarecrow felt all sad inside. He thought he was going to cry.

"I wish I could. I'm sorry." With that, Scarecrow's father turned and walked away.

Scarecrow could feel the tears running down his cheek. "Don't leave! Come back, daddy! Come back!"

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

Scarecrow tossed in his sleep. "Don't leave," he mumbled. "Come back, daddy. Come back."

The man standing over Scarecrow frowned. With a damp cloth, he wiped some of the sweat off Scarecrow's forehead.

"Will S... will Scarecrow be all right?" a man standing nearby asked.

"I'm not sure, Your Majesty. He's got a nasty fever, but he should be able to break out of it soon."

"Good. I have some other things to attend to now. Send him to me when he awakens."

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

Scarecrow smiled as he crossed the hallway and entered into the small house that belonged to Canthra. She was Scarecrow's best friend. They did everything together.

As he passed into the single room of the house, he noticed it was strangely dark. His eyes narrowed briefly as he looked from shadow to shadow, searching intently.

In a flash, the room exploded with light. Scarecrow was blinded momentarily. When he finally was able to see again, Canthra was standing before him.

To say that Canthra was an impressive sight would be an understatement. She stood fully twice as high as a man, had the body of a lion, and the wings of an eagle. Despite her strange form, she appeared infinitely regal and controlled as she stared down at Scarecrow with those icy blue eyes of hers.

"Before you may pass into my domain," Canthra boomed, her voice filling the room, "you must answer me one riddle. If a rooster lays an egg on top of a roof, which direction will it roll off?"

Scarecrow rolled his eyes. "Will you ever get a better riddle, Canthra? Everyone in the whole kingdom knows that one by know."

"The riddles are mine to ask. Besides," she added with a wink, "that one's my favorite. Now... answer my riddle, or you must leave this place."

Scarecrow sighed. "Roosters don't lay eggs. Are you happy now?"

But apparently there was more ceremony yet to be done. Canthra raised one eyebrow, and in an aloof tone, replied, "You have answered...correctly." Then a grin broke out on her face. "So what'd you want to see me about?"

"I'm finished with my studies for the day, so I was wondering whether or not you were busy with anything right now. Apparently, you're not, so let's go find something fun to do."

Canthra shrugged. "Sounds good to me. How about we..."

Canthra continued, but Scarecrow couldn't hear her. A voice was buzzing in his ears. *KILL HER,* it said. *KILL HER NOW. SHE WANTS TO KILL YOU. YOU MUST KILL HER FIRST.* Scarecrow looked down, appalled by the knife he had somehow slipped into his hand. What was he doing?

Canthra was looking at him strangely. She was speaking, but Scarecrow didn't hear a word she said. *KILL KILL KILL KILL...* He looked down at the knife in his hand. In the back of his mind, another voice was calling out for him to stop. But it was too little, too late.

Scarecrow snarled as the dagger sunk into Canthra's lion flesh. He stabbed again and again, raw fury giving him speed and energy. The only thing he knew was that he had to kill this one.

When it was over, Canthra was lying on the floor, a mass of bloody cuts. Scarecrow looked down in confusion. What had he done? The knife dropped from his hand.

Still in shock, Scarecrow noted dimly that he was covered in blood, only a small amount of it his own. He was backing slowly out of the room, still trying to comprehend what had happened.

After a moment of thought, he realized one thing and one thing only. He had to leave. Quickly.

Opening the door to the small house, Scarecrow ran as hard as he could. He didn't stop until he was at the entrance to the tunnels.

Out of breath, exhausted, Scarecrow collapsed on the ground. As he was lying there, he looked out over the village.

The Land of Summoned Monsters. It had been his home. Now, he had none.

As he walked away, no tears ran down his cheeks. His cheeks had been dry since the day his mother had died.

Scarecrow opened one of his eyes a hair. In suprise at what he saw, both eyes flew open.

"Indra?" Scarecrow gasped.

The Master of Lightning smiled faintly. "It's been a long time."

Scarecrow leapt out of the bed and to his feet, ignoring the pain that lanced through him. "Indeed it has. Where are we?"

"The Land of Summoned Monsters, of course. Where else do you think I would be?" Indra raised an eyebrow.

"I had thought YOU would be here. Me, however... I should be dead."

"Perhaps I'll let Leviathan explain that. He's expecting you."

Scarecrow nodded. "Where's my mask?" He hadn't mentioned it before, as Indra already knew who he was.

Indra grinned. "Don't know what you need that thing for in here, but... it's under the bed, along with your cloak. Now hurry up. Leviathan's waiting!"

Taking his time, Scarecrow pulled the mask and cloak from under the bed. He put them on even more slowly.

Indra sighed. "Just like old times, eh, Scarecrow?"

"Few things ever really change." Scarecrow paused for a moment before looking over at Indra. "You said Leviathan's expecting me. Am I going to be put on trial?"

"I don't know, Scarecrow. Leviathan only told me to help your healing with what little skills I have. I wasn't even told what your crime was."

"Why you? All you've learned about healing is non-magical. What happened to Asura?"

"She's been missing for quite some time now. If you want more information, you'll have to speak to Leviathan. Come on."

With that, Indra turned and walked out the door. Though he already knew the way, Scarecrow was contect to let Indra lead.

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

Leviathan was seated in the throne room, guised (as usual) in human form. As Scarecrow walked into the room, one of Leviathan's advisors stopped speaking and walked away.

Leviathan's face was a mask. Scarecrow walked slowly to stand before him. Out of the corner of his eye, Scarecrow noticed all those in the room leaving, and the doors being shut.

"We both know what terms we last parted on," Scarecrow began, "so let's get straight to the point. I want to know what happened. I should've died up there."

"I saved your life and brought you here."

"Why?"

"Because if I hadn't you would have died."

"And why do you care? I killed one of your own without reason. By your own law, I must die. I lived here, remember? I know the rules."

"We all do things we are not proud of, Scarecrow. We all make mistakes."

"Mistakes? You call repeated stab wounds a mistake? Are you kidding?"

"You sound as if you want to die."

"And you sound as if you want me to live. No one does something without a reason. Why?"

At last Leviathan smiled grimly. "You see through me all too easily, Scarecrow. The truth is that I have need of your services."

Scarecrow was incredulous. "What? Is this your idea of a joke?"

"No, Scarecrow. Think of my saving your life as pre-payment for your services."

"And what's the job?"

"I want you to defeat... Atma."

"I thought he was dead. How am I supposed to find him?"

"You're the assassin, Scarecrow. You figure it out."

"And what do you want him for?"

Leviathan's face revealed nothing. "You have always let your clients maintain their secrecy. My reasons are my own."

"And if I do? Your law still says I have to die."

"If you complete this mission, I agree to give you a full pardon for your crimes."

Scarecrow's eyes narrowed. "When I was young, Leviathan, you were like a father to me. To Canthra as well. I cared about you once, and so did she. You would let her death go unavenged, just so you can see Atma destroyed?"

"You sound again as if you wish to die."

"Maybe I deserve to die! Did that not occur to you?"

"Will you take the mission, or should I sentence you right here?"

Scarecrow hesitated a long moment, torn between past and present. "Damn you, Leviathan. My code does not allow me to not accept this mission. But somehow I get the feeling that you already knew that. Damn you!"

Scarecrow took one step closer, staring Leviathan straight in the eye. Scarecrow's own eyes fumed in rage. Leviathan's, in contrast, were serene and composed.

"I accept the mission," Scarecrow half-snarled, barely controlling his anger. Then he looked down, and spat at the great King's feet. "That's for making me care about you, once." Spinning on one heel, Scarecrow swiftly stalked away.

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

The door slammed shut behind Scarecrow. Breaking out of his composure, Leviathan hung his head in shame.

"It would have been easier to have offered him gold," Leviathan sighed. "Even if we had to steal it from humans."

A figure stepped from the shadows in the corner of the room. "But it would not have worked. Scarecrow has dealt with Atma before. Deep down, so deep that even Scarecrow does not know it, he is afraid of Atma. This was our only option."

"I know, Canthra. It's just that... he already has so much pain."

"I understand. I, too, almost stepped from the shadows several times. He is my friend too. I fear he would've seen through me in an instant had I been in your position."

"He doesn't even think of me as a friend anymore. Or anyone. He keeps his walls so tight that no one could get through, even if they tried."

The sphinx shook her head sadly. "It is the curse. Those who are closest to him he is most likely to harm. So he doesn't let anyone close anymore. I wish so much I could tell him what I know."

"But we can't. The book was clear on that. If he is to become what he wants to be, he must discover how to do it on his own--no help from us."

"That doesn't make it any easier. Scarecrow may be our last hope. If Atma is not stopped soon, he will destroy us all--before anyone knows what he is doing."

The wizened old Master of Lightning looked over at him as they continued walking. "I would expect you to know that better than any of us, Scarecrow. Not one of us has ever left."

"Point. But the route I took would take several days to traverse. Isn't there any other way out?"

Indra furrowed his brow for a moment. "Couldn't you ask Leviathan to take you to the surface?"

"I'm not asking Leviathan for any help ever again." There was a hard edge to Scarecrow's tone that Indra had never heard before. Not for the first time, Indra wondered what had happened between Scarecrow and Leviathan. They used to get along fine... all those years ago.

Scarecrow reached out and opened the door before him. "So, Indra, there was something you wanted to show me?" Before him stood what appeared to be the chocobo living quarters. Many of the huge birds were wandering about the room.

Indra smiled. "Yes... do you see anyone you recognize?" Indra snapped his fingers, and a small chocobo stepped forward.

Scarecrow's eyebrows shot up, though it was concealed by his mask. The chocobo before him was small, sleek... and black. Scarecrow had assumed that his chocobo had not survived the storm. Apparently, he was wrong.

"He-lo Sca-co." Scarecrow's eyes went even wider. His chocobo could talk!

Indra smiled again. "His brothers took the liberty of informing him what it was to be a real chocobo. Apparently, he was bred for cruelty. It took them a while to get past all the confusion he was feeling."

"Amazing." Scarecrow looked his bird over again. "And they taught him how to speak?"

"Sort of. His vocabulary is... limited, at present. He can learn, though. He's exceptionally intelligent."

Scarecrow frowned. "They taught him what it was to be a real chocobo, eh? I guess that means he should be free now."

"Why, Scarecrow, I didn't know you cared."

"I don't. I just realize that he won't want to fight for me anymore. He won't be much use to me that way."

"Oh really? Perhaps you should let him decide."

"Want go with Sca-co," the little chocobo chirped.

Scarecrow just stood there, unable to speak. "None of the other chocobos have been able to figure it out either," Indra said. "He just seems to like you."

Scarecrow shook his head. "I suppose that's his decision. Well, this certainly changes things. There's a shortcut I can take almost straight to the surface now. Only one condition: you, chocobo. You must promise to obey me. I can't afford to have you cutting out on me in the middle of combat."

The chocobo chirped. "Me o-beh you Sca-co."

"Well then. We have no time to waste. Let's go!"

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

It was evening as Scarecrow's chocobo finally came out of the caves. Their journey had been uneventful, but the chocobo was tired. They flew a short distance more before they stopped at a small hut. One of Scarecrow's message depots.

"You wait here, chocobo. Plenty of good grass around, and probably some berries or something nearby. See you in the morning."

The chocobo chirped and nodded. Scarecrow turned and walked inside the small hut.

The hut was typical of Scarecrow's message depots. The place appeared to be completely cleaned out, but open a simple compartment, and...

Scarecrow blinked. There were more messages than usual. And none of them were job offers. How strange.

The first message was about Atma sightings. Atma had apparently been seen in the vicinity of the Pheonix Cave. Finding Atma had been much easier than Scarecrow had predicted.

The next message was, oddly enough, also about the Atma Weapon. Except, in this case, it was the sword. One of his agents had reportedly taken it from a petty thief in Nikeah. They were even now shipping it to the Shattered Island to put in storage for later use.

Something tugged at the back of Scarecrow's mind. There was just something odd about the situation. Why had the Atma Weapon shown up so suddenly, after many months of being missing? How had a simple thief acquired it? SOMEthing was decidedly wrong. Scarecrow told himself he would return to it later. There were other messages he needed to read.

Several of the next few messages were routine information. Small things, really. But, as Scarecrow knew well, sometimes the small things were the most important.

On the sixth letter, Scarecrow paused. "Sascha and Akfek ready to move against Jidoor? Interesting..." Scarecrow pursed his lips. There was money to be made off this, but Scarecrow had something else in mind. There was something he needed... and Setzer was the only man alive who might be able to get it.

Scarecrow permitted himself a brief smile. This was the first improvement to come along in weeks. The first step in completing his plans.

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

A noise awakened Scarecrow. Instincts pulling him together immediately, he was on his feet in a flash.

Scarecrow's eyes narrowed as he looked around the room. "Who's there?" he demanded.

After a moment, he heard the noise again. It was a whistle. One of the loneliest, most empty sounds Scarecrow had ever heard.

Scarecrow shook his head. "Blasted train. Why can't it just leave me alone?" He walked over to the one window of the shack, and gazed out into the starlit sky. "Do you hear that, train?" Scarecrow shouted. "LEAVE ME ALONE!"

The empty sound of a train whistle was his only reply.