I took to the far side of the island and remained there for a while. I built a crude shack to protect myself from the elements. I will never forget my days upon the Veldt, but I do not relish the thought of living them again. Pure civilization is not good, but neither is pure wilderness. There, my family would enter and stay by me. They warmed me and comforted me. They ate with me and often brought me food.

It was not an unpleasant time, but it could not last, either. I still had to find her. I still had to find Mira. Some trace of her had to remain on this broken world, and I had to find it. My wife was somewhere, waiting for me to find her.

Again, a creature of the sea, a dolphin, carried me to land. I thanked him for his help, and he smiled and clicked at me before returning to his home.

Once on the mainland, I realized that I was in the Serpent Trench. Once again, I forced myself to believe it because it was the only possible way. I was in the Serpent Trench, but on land! The destruction of the world had done great things, indeed. I never dreamed that it had done all this. It was unimaginable, but it had to be true, for here it was.

Getting my bearings, I realized that Nikeah had to be a little to the north. Travelling alone, it was only a short time before the town came into view. Once among the buildings, something tugged at my mind. Something I couldn't explain, but something I could not ignore. Whatever it was, it caused me to book passage with some gold I found at Doma. Still, I do not understand why, but I soon found myself on my way to South Figaro.

The seas were calm for the majority of the voyage. I spent most of my time in my cabin, thinking, remembering, imagining. I thought much of my time on the Veldt. I remembered the vast thousands of creatures that I saw. There were beasts of every shape and size. All colors of the rainbow. Some vicious. Others quite harmless. Most of them took to me quite well. Yes, there were a some that I could never get to understand me. The dragons were never a friend to me. It was the same with the worms. Yet, it was the worms that always interested me. So many shapes and sizes, yet worms came in only three sizes - tiny, large, and huge. The smallest nightcrawler was so akin to the man-sized hoover. And both, kin to the massive zone-eater, a creature of such girth and size, I often wondered what it survived on. Even if it were swallow an ocean, would it be enough to satisfy it?

The journey was quickly over. I stepped into the town, but left it quickly. I did not want to deal with civilization at the time. The close quarters on the boat left me feeling confined. I needed to get out into something more open, something wilder. Somewhere my family was sure to show up.

I did not achieve all that. The open space, I found. The wilderness I found. My family was not so easily seen. Before long, I realized that I was completely lost within the Figaroan desert. I was unsure of what to do. One hawk followed me in my wanderings, and he provided company for me, but did little to guide me home. He stood attentively at his perch on my shoulder, but could offer no help in my plight.

As the sun became hotter, I became even further disoriented. Before long, I had no idea which direction to face or where to go. Looking behind, I realized that the trail that I chose to be so straight was, instead, winding this way and that. I was definitely not moving in a single direction. Fear began to overwhelm me.

Soon, my friend gave me a look that I understood all to well. Hunger had gripped him, and he had to leave me. Though I was sorry, I assured him that it was all right. He squawked at me and flew into the horizon in search of better hunting. Though I didn't know exactly what he said, I still understood. To me, there really was no "language barrier" with my family.

The sun beat mercilessly upon me for hours. It wasn't long before my mind was affected. I saw visions. First, they were of the creatures that cared for me. Then, my wife and son. Oh, Mynsch! Mira! Why did this happen to me? What caused this foul plague to settle over my life? I cried in the sand. I cried because I had no strength for anything else. I cried because it was all I could do anymore. The sun had taken everything from me. My strength. My sanity. My will.

Yes, the zone-eater was an amazing beast. I thought it capable of perhaps swallowing the world. I though it was perhaps the largest creature not of dragon-kind. I also thought it lived only on the Veldt and a mysterious triangular island.

Times change.

And it wasn't.

In fact....

It wasn't a bad way to go at all...

I found myself drifting... floating on... no... it wasn't air. It was... then again, it really wasn't. I was floating in nothing. It was as if I were in the midst of pure black space. I was suspended, and nothing was around me. But it was a tangible nothing. Each bit of nothing would come closer for a moment, and it would flare, blinding me so quickly, that I had not even a chance to see the light before I saw... something else. Physical memories. It wasn't a thought of the past, but rather, I was there again. Cyan...

"Thy mastery of the Parry is quite fair, Kindar, but I do not understand why the Dispatch is so difficult for thee."

"Well, then, what do you suggest?" I asked.

Cyan looked at me thoughtfully, his chin in hand. "I believe that the difficulty may lie within the grasp of thy sword. In a parry, thou keepest thy sword down, and thrust it upward to not only deflect thy opponent's actions, but to strike as well. But the Dispatch carries with it no thought of protection of thine own self. Rather, thou leavest thy self open in order to strike the blow with greater force."

I thought for a moment. Then, grasping the blade, I parried a moment and then stood with the hilt facing out. My mind became clouded, and then blanked entirely. I blinked a moment, and looked at my surroundings. The dummy lay, nearly shredded, on the ground before me. My sword was in the sheath, and my arm rested in the ready position. I looked at Cyan. "Sufficient?"

"Kindar, I truly believe that thou hast the talent to be one of the finest knights in all of Doma." He smiled, and I nodded. Praise was difficult to come by from Cyan. I took it graciously, and treasured it always.

The light left me. Another piece of nothing crept closer. I could not see it, but I knew. I pulled toward me, and another flash. Mira...

"Kindar, dear. The ceremony begins soon. I wouldn't want my own personal general to be late for his officiation," said a voice behind me. I turned, and she was there again. Her hair flowed so gently down her back. Eyes of the deepest sapphire regarded me with concern, yet affection. I reached for her and pulled her close. "Kindar, dear! I hardly think this is the time... no matter how much I approve," she said with a smile. I didn't let go. I couldn't. Every fiber of my being was fixed on holding her there. Every piece of my existence rested on keeping her in my arms. I had to. I simply had to!

But I couldn't. The light faded, and with it, my love. I tried to cry, but nothing came. My eyes did not water. They hardly functioned at all. They did not move at my command. They didn't tear at my sadness. They could only stare into the newly-approaching emptiness. Mipza...

The creature regarded me with interest. I sat quietly by the rocks looking back. I wasn't sure exactly what it was. It seemed to be reptilian, but it had no scales. Its skin was a sickly green color, its teeth sharp and ragged. Two eyes, black as purest night, looked out at me with interest. I wasn't sure how long we stared at each other, but human as I was, I soon lost patience. I took out the meat I was carrying and began to tear at it voraciously.

It wasn't too long before the creature advanced a bit. I stopped. It regarded me again with those eyes. Again we stared at each other a while. Again, I returned to my eating. Again, it came toward me. It reached my side and looked into my eyes. Then the meat. It reached a strange claw forward, and I growled as I ate. It pulled back and looked at me again with those eyes. Eyes full of hunger. Eyes full of... strangeness. I froze for a moment. Something in me demanded action. I took a bone in my teeth and tore it free. The creature cocked its head a moment, and I threw the piece to it. We both set in hungrily to our tasks.

It followed me everywhere for a while. I never determined what it was. I saw so many more when the world was ravaged, but they were nothing like the little creature that followed me. They were constantly attacking and rending everything. They ate more than I could imagine. What they didn't eat, they simply chewed, and what they didn't chew, they merely shredded it until it was no longer recognizable.

But Mipza was different. It was a kind creature, perhaps tormented by its own alienness. But then... so was I.

The nothingness pulled back and another came forward. It was smaller than the others, but more ominous. It was almost nothing, yet immensely important. It was... Mynsch...

It was so short... yet so powerful. A few moments, I held him again. A few seconds, I grasped his frame in my arms and cried anew. I prayed. I pleaded with the Lord to return my son, but nothing would arise from it. For a few seconds, I begged anew for the life to flow from me into his own frame. I knew it would never be, but I knew it couldn't happen all over again. As the light faded, I heard something. I listened closely this time. It was... laughing... It was... horrible, evil laughing. I suddenly knew that if I were alive, I would stop at nothing to find that laugh again, and vanquish it from the world. Forever.

And then I learned something new: Nothing in all of eternity can hurt as bad as waking up from being dead.

I decided to try to move.

I then decided that perhaps it wasn't such a good idea. The bones in my arm popped and snapped with even the smallest movements. Each fraction of an inch provided more pain than the last. I lay on the ground for a while thinking of all that had happened. I considered the memories that continually flooded my senses. I thought of the path I had taken and wondered where it had lead me. I thought of the zone-eater and wondered what the hell is was doing in the Figaran desert.

Time didn't mean much then. It usually doesn't in the dark to me. I only know that it was less than a day by the fact that hunger had never crept in. But the hours were still quite a long time to lay alone, forgotten. I doubted that any family would find me here, in the belly of the beast.

Light flared around me. "What the devil..." I muttered. At first, I thought I was back within the nothingness that help my dreams. But this time, I really was blinded. Something was different. Everything was solid. The light was bright, but dimmer than before, and it affected my sight unlike the last. No memories came. Only confusion.

When my sight was bestowed to me again, I realized something new: I was not inside the zone-eater. At least, I hoped that zone-eaters did not have stone for a belly. Rock walls surrounded me, and gravel lay strewn about, much of it on top of me. Despite the pain that I knew I would feel, I craned my neck to find the light that flared. I saw nothing that could do such a thing, yet enough light remained for me to see. There was nothing to do this. Only rock and stone, granite and gravel. The hole above me was quite small, not enough to shed this much light. I imagined, however, that that must have been where I dropped through. Perhaps it sealed after I fell. Or perhaps that was not where I came from. Perhaps something brought me here.

I didn't appreciate that thought.

"I'd kill for an elixer..." I groaned. Relying only on the strength of will, I pulled myself to my knees and sat down against the wall in front of me. I, again, looked about. The chamber to which I dropped was about 8 feet high and roughly circular. Dust was quite prevalent, and I imagined the cave must be old. One crook seemed deeper than the others, and I regarded it with interest. I wanted out. Perhaps that was it.

Struggling to my feet, I stumbled to the nook. It was a tight squeze, but I managed to slide in. It was definitely some sort of passage. I never liked spelunking much, but I decided that claustriphobia was not the ideal thing to come down with at the time. The light, wherever it came from, was a great help, and the pain also helped to dull the fear. After limping a while down the twisting corridor, I came to a sight that was easily the most unexpected thing I could ever have imagined. Imagine my shock... Imagine every part of me completely frozen in place in awe... in wonder... in confusion...

Of all the places I had ever dreamed of, this was not the place to build a castle...

He looked up from the desk and stared blankly at the wall. He realized that he had been writing for hours. It was tiring somehow, but he loved it. The one way he could freely let out his feelings sometimes.

It had been a long time... He looked at the parchment in front of him. Several pages of writing littered the desk, and the ink well was nearly dry. He collected the papers and laid them quietly in the desk drawer. He locked it with the key he had found. He didn't want anyone to read it. Not while he was still here. The only person he had ever allowed to read his writing was Mira.

His eyes teared at the memory. After weeks at the castle, he had learned to control his memories, but they would always crush his heart a little.

He glanced at the drawer again. After a moment, he unlocked it.

"Just this time... I'll let down guard just this time..."

Forgotten and encased in stone.

Kindar took a step forward. It seemed to take an eternity. His mind was flooded, and time could not keep up. Each footfall was an hour. Each turn of the head to draw in the sight was an eternity. And yet, somehow, almost before he knew, he stood at the gates.

Left forgotten for centuries, they stood open to welcome him. But he didn't enter. Not yet. He couldn't. The gates had markings upon them. An engraving that had been worn away with time, but could still be seen. The markings were faded but clear. It had to be.

"Baron..." he whispered. His hand came up to the seal, perhaps to prove it was real. His fingers touched the wood, caressed it, traced the encompassing circle down, and finally rested beneath it. All the knowledge of ancient times... all the reading, studying... exhumed and filled with life in a moment. His mind was suddenly filled with the texts from the library. Filled with the stories of Baron's noble birth and rise to become a kingdom of might. The legend of its capture by the dark Golbez and its freedom through the one, true paladin, Cecil. The tales of its role and eventual fall in the War of the Magi.

Awestruck, Kindar breathed deeply. His head was whirling with the concepts that could hardly be accepted, but had to be true. After another moment, he pulled away from the door and entered the main hall.

The light.

It was brighter ahead.

Curious at the source of the mysterious illumination, he stepped ahead into the gathering chambers. Chairs lined the tables and counters. A passage to the far right led into darkness. Ahead, double doors led to the royal audience chanbers.

And the light.

He opened the doors, puzzled as to why they were closed. It was not long before he understood why. The occupant wished privacy. He was quick to comply as he dashed back into the main hall. Yet the man from the waiting room was swift to follow.

Kindar lept down the stairs into the basement and quickly regretted the choice. The room in which he found himself was small, and the space it did provide was taken by a large table and bookcase. A return up was not an option, but neither was remaining. Panic set in as Kindar's hands began to sweat. Where was his family when he needed them most?

Quick steps brought his persuit to face him. The mouth was covered by cloth, and ceremonial robes hung loosely around the form. Little of that mattered to the intruder who's eyes were focused on the curved blade that gleamed in the assailant's hand.

A moment passed, and nobody moved. Each muscle tensed and ready. Sweat began to form on each man's brow as the moment became forever. Suddenly, forever was shattered as the samurai warrior lept up and across the table to strike. Kindar took the moment to swing beneath and thrust the table upwards. Caught off guard, the other barely had time to regain his bearings and land on his feet as the wood below flew out from under. In the confusion, Kindar fled back up the stairs.

Cursing the luck, he dashed into the gathering chambers once again. Hoping to confuse his predator by choosing a poor direction, Kindar jumped first to a counter, and then to the rafters above. He crawled silently along the beams until he came to rest above the entry. The warrior was but a moment in coming. He scanned carefully for his prey, but saw nothing. He turned, and Kindar relaxed. With that, the weight shifted the beam with a groan.

Knowing doom was certain without, Kindar swung down into the man as he turned, knocking them both to the ground. Amidst tangled limbs and clothing, Kindar regained composure first and started for the audience chambers. Running with all his strength, he flung the doors to the waiting room back and hopefully closed. Not pausing to see, he burst into the audience chambers and slammed the double doors. Quickly, he swung the heavy bolt into the catch. He felt the rotting wood give even as he pulled it down and knew it wouldn't last. He prayed for another way.

Shock overcame him as a voice answered.

Kindar turned to the throne, but shielded his eyes from the brightness that shone from there. He tried to peer ahead, but the light caused his eyes to tear, blurring anything that he might have seen.

The silence could have gone on a long time had it not been for the predator behind. There were the efforts of the samurai to break through the rotting, wooden doors. The wood shuddered and moaned with each blow, but Kindar heard little of it. He was focused ahead on the light from the throne.

"Who? Who are you?" he managed.

"I am Rinjai," said the voice as the light dimmed. "I am the sword of Raiden." Kindar's arms slowly fell to his sides as the light was pulled toward the throne. When it was low enough to see through, Kindar saw the source. It was just as it had claimed.

"Just as the knight Cecil came here to receive the shield of Salvatar, so do you come to claim your rightful arms," said the sword.

Kindar's awe turned to stubborness. "Cecil was king here, and there is no mention anywhere of Salvatar. He came to save and to rule, not to claim elements of war. As for me," he turned. "I gave up the sword. My family is my guard and protection. They have done more than any sword ever could. They comforted me. They stood by me when I was mad with grief and anger. They understand me. No sword can."

"And where is your family now, knight? They come and go as they please. They are not as faithful as the sword who is always by your side. Often, they are not even near you or none that can help. You cannot cast away everything, Kindar. Survival is made up of many pieces. You discovered one in your family, but you cannot give up another is trade. They make up a part of you. A part of your life." A flash brought his hands to his face again. When he looked up, the sword was absent.

Rinjai spoke from his side. "Someday you will see." An ornate scabbard hung from his belt, and a jeweled hilt rose out of it. Kindar grabed the hilt furiously and flung the sword. "I don't want it!" he yelled in fury. The weapon clattered to the dais steps, sliding across the stone.

"Someday you will see."

With a final groan, the doors behind gave their last and crashed to their final rest on the ground. As he turned, the samurai lept forward with a foreign cry. Kindar needed no translation. He came for blood.

Leaping to the side, he dodged the samurai's blow. He slid his hunting knife from the sheath and turned again. As the warrior regained his bearings, it became another face off. Each man waiting for the other to signal his intent. Neither wishing to be the first to move.

Both men had been trained through experience to have patience. It was an integral part of the samurai's life, and it was a focus of Kindar's being. He had lived where animals roamed. He learned to understand them. He learned to trust them, and through this, he learned patience. It began to be a test of whose training had been better ingrained.

A muscle tensed. As the warrior dashed forward, the other jumped ahead. In midair, Kindar grabbed the other's shoulder and pulled for all he was worth. The samurai slashed at the flying figure, but lost his focus as he was thrown to one side. He found himself facing away from his prey, and had not the time to rectify it. He fell as Kindar swept with a leg.

Acknowledging his brief advantage, Kindar darted forward and raised the knife. Ready for this move, the samurai pulled away. It was enough to avoid the intent of the thrust, but not the power of the stab. The dagger came down hard in the warrior's leg and ripped the flesh as it was torn out.

Undaunted, the wounded flipped forward to his feet, seemingly unfazed by the slash. Another face off began. Each man circled the other, watching for the sign again. Here, Kindar struck first. Again, leaping high, he aimed to bring down the knife on the other, but the samurai was prepared. Pushing forward, he jumped but remained low. Expecting a thrust from the blade, the intruder was unprepared for the samurai's kick. It connected in the stomach and sent him flying back onto the dais stairs.

Again, a foreign cry filled the echoing chamber. Kindar could only wait for the final strike. It came with force and jarred his arm with a numbing sting. He opened his eyes to see a sword in his hand. He had to have grabbed it without knowing it. Hadn't he?

There was no time to debate. Kindar scrambled in a parrying position on his feet while the other advanced again. Kindar stood cold with the blade in a horizontal parry, and the other struck. At the sound of the meeting swords, Kindar's mind clouded and faded into blackness.

He opened his eyes to find Rinjai in the ready position and the samurai on his knees. "The parry always was one of my better moves. Let us begin in earnest," he said through clenched teeth.

He watched the warrior get up. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, the samurai relaxed. Flipping the sword behind his arm, he bowed to the knight. Smoke curled forth from a hand and covered him. It cleared to reveal nothing but a memory. "Perhaps we will meet again," thought Kindar.

He slumped to the ground and sat back on the velvet stairs. Exhastion pulled at his muscles and he was in no mood to find a better place. Sheathing Rinjai, he rubbed at his numbed arm and sighed softly. "I suppose as a final resort..."

He wasn't sure. A voice in his mind, a vivid memory, or true whisper.

"Someday you will see."

I hated mushrooms raw. I hated mushroom soup. I hated mushrooms lightly toasted, well done, or burnt to ashes. For almost two weeks, I had found nothing anywhere near Baron castle that wasn't some kind of fungus.

And I hated them all.

-----

Kindar sighed and set down the quill. Shaking his head, he quietly slid the papers into the desk drawer. For the past few weeks, he had spent his time exploring the area, quickly getting over his claustrophobia, and writing something of a journal that he kept in the desk in the tower. For a time, he had locked the drawer, but slowly, he loosed himself from the habit. 'Who's to find it?' he thought, 'And besides, what if someone does? I can't lock myself soul away forever.'

He leaned back in the chair and looked around at the room he had taken to be his own. He wondered who had lived in the room when Baron fell. Who had slept in that very bed in the times of the paladin legend? Maybe Cecil. He chuckled at the thought.

And yet...

He shook his head. Couldn't be.

His mind wandered to the words of Rinjai weeks ago. "Just as Cecil came..." When did Cecil come? Why wasn't it mentioned anywhere in the paladin legends? "A strange mystery indeed."

Kindar stood and took his cloak from the wardrobe. Fitting it lightly over his shoulder, he trekked down the staircase to the courtyard. Once again, he journeyed outside of the castle walls and into the surrounding tunnels. He searched over and over for a way out from the caves, but there didn't seem to be any such passage. He prayed again that he wouldn't be trapped under stone forever.

Hours later, frustrated and exhausted, Kindar came back to Baron. "Home, sweet home," he muttered. He slipped past the awesome, yet nearly destroyed doors. Still, the insignia was there. "Would have made the historians back in Doma delirious. Too bad there's no Doma anymore."

He sighed again, and walked into the main hall. He suddenly realized that after the battle with the samurai, he had never returned to the gathering chambers or the throne room. Maybe it was fear. Perhaps he did not want to remember the battle. Or the small realization that came with it.

He was still a knight.

Stepping forward into the gathering chambers, he saw the broken beam that gave ever so slightly under his weight. It was rotting badly. He shook his head at how he could have made such a poor decision. But it was over. And he was still alive.

And he was still a knight.

He turned and saw the door to the right. It was small, but still enough to let a man through without ducking. Kindar stepped up for a closer inspection. It wasn't long before he realized that this was the door to Cid's secret laboratory. Cautiously, he stole into the small hallway and followed it to the stairs. The light grew dimmer below. Apparently, Rinjai's light originated from the throne room no matter where the sword was at.

Kindar left and returned with a torch from the main hall. A flint spark brought the flames to life, and he began his descent. The fire cast dancing shadows on the walls creating an eerie band of followers. Each one came to view for but a moment to taunt him and then disappeared back into the darkness. They laughed at him, mocking his journey into the blackness, dancing evilly around him.

Soon, the stairs ended and the small corridor expanded into a cavern of enormous size. It rivaled even the emptiness that held Baron. It was the home of the Enterprise. Wooden planks led out into the void, presumably the docking area. Kindar's boots echoed hollowly in the expanse as he stepped to the edge. The exit was blocked by thousand of rocks and rubble amassing several hundred tons. There was no escape from here.

Disheartened, Kindar walked solemnly back toward the stairs. There was nothing for him here. Just a thousand stones and a wooden dock.

And a hole in the side of the wall.

Curious, Kindar inspected the small opening. It was about large enough for a man to crawl through with a little effort. It led a ways forward and then seemed to grow into a tunnel large enough to stand in. There was more to the cavern that it seemed. Kindar prayed silently and dropped to his knees. It was a tight squeeze, but he managed to fit in the tunnel with little struggle.

As the tunnel grew larger, Kindar rose to his feet. Seeing branches here and there, he picked up a light colored stone from the ground. He needed to make sure he could find a way back to the castle if he found nothing at the end of his exploration. As he came across each branch, he marked his choice by scraping the stone across the wall. It made a faint, but recognizable mark. Still hoping for an escape, Kindar walked onward.

Seeing them growing on the walls and taunting him, he burned the mushrooms along the way.

"And then there was my claustrophobia. It wasn't long before I realized that it wasn't completely gone..."

* * * * * * * * * * *

The darkness, again, shrouded the passing of time. The torch had gone out several times, but the fungi on the walls burned well. A thin coating kept the flame alive long enough to continue exploring.

His boots scraped against the stone below. The flames licked the walls and danced about the wanderer. Small pebbles lined the way. It was ever the same. Constant. The darkness ahead. The darkness behind. Only the torch providing a pocket of light, of salvation.

Kindar had considered going back but decided it wasn't worth it. The castle was just as much a prison as the caves. The tunnels, however, might provide a way out. Escape to the surface. The sun! His family! The feeling of grass on your feet! The warmth of the light cascading down to your face! Even the rain as it cooled and satisfied the thirst of the green.

And yet... something wasn't right.

Though it was difficult to tell, Kindar soon realized that he was not traveling up to the surface. Rather, he was traveling down. Down to...

What?

It didn't matter. There was no other way to the surface. There was no passage that provided escape other than this one. Perhaps there was a bottom, and it curved back up. Yes. It would start back up.

Hours later, Kindar began to lose hope for it. Sleep was beginning to pull at his muscles, and he knew that he must have been traveling through the caves for over a full day. His stomach yearned for anything that might satisfy it for even a moment. Even the fungi were beginning to look good.

Discouraged, Kindar slumped to the ground. He spread out his cloak and lay down. He would go back to the castle when he awakened. There was nothing else to do. The tunnels were simply not leading him out. There was nothing. No end.

But...

* * * * * * * * * * *

Kindar thrashed about, flinging the blanket from him. He looked about frantically. No light was seen anywhere. All darkness. It was...

The tunnel.

His heart gradually slowed. He was in the tunnel. From Cid's lab. Kindar sighed. Each time he awoke in the darkness of the caves, it took longer to realize and accept where he was. He couldn't remain. He couldn't go back to the castle. There was only escape. There was a way out. There had to be.

He rose to his feet and took his "blanket" from the ground. He wrapped it around his shoulders and fitted it back to it's normal, comfortable sitting. He used to wonder why he liked the cloak so much when it hampered the sword. He was quickly learning. The cloak was the most versatile article of clothing ever imaginable. A blanket. A pillow. A bag. Anything. Even the towel couldn't match it for usefulness.

Kindar fumbled around with his hands a moment, but couldn't find the torch. Panic started to rise up. His hand reached up to find the wall and he started slowly forward with only the stone to guide. He prayed that he had kicked it forward in his sleep. His arms tensed with hope. It was just ahead. It was just ahead.

But it wasn't just ahead. Something else was. A light. It was a torchlight that didn't flicker. It was a flame that danced, but slowly, methodically. The wanderer took his hand from the wall and let the dim illumination guide him. He didn't find the torch. He didn't need to. Another was guiding him.

A thought struck Kindar. He found himself so often in the past few days blind. Searching. Hoping and praying for light. He was pondering this when the tunnel opened up. Orange light filled his eyes, and warmth floated up to him. It was impossible to describe. It was creation displaying its power and beauty.

The light did not come from above. It came from below. There was no sun. Or perhaps there was. Perhaps the sun had heated itself infintely so and melted. The liquid sun gathered in massive pools, collecting in oceans whose end could not be seen. Rock walls made of thousands of interconnecting swirls of color made up a cliff he emerged from, the light from the liquid sun dancing ever so delicately and softly upon it. Again, Kindar found himself in awe of his findings. Time slowed again. Every minute was spent taking in the sight. It was incredible. It flooded the senses to become everything.

And it chittered.

No. The sight didn't chitter.

The rocky creature ambling for him chittered.

"But to whomever is reading this, tell me:

"How does one befriend a rock?"

* * * * * * * * * * *

It was about waist high with numerous appendages flailing about beneath a rocky shell, propelling it toward him at a slow, but steady pace. Chittering the whole way, its antennae waved from side to side in a frantic dance. Faint blue and yellow marked its side as if a too-intense painter had swept his brushes from the canvas onto the creature's side.

Kindar stood a moment as it came for him, then moved to place one knee on the ground. He extended a hand, and whistled intermittently through clenched teeth and tightened lips. The creature slowed a bit, then came forward with redoubled force. A slight fear began to hit the man, but he remained on the ground, trusting that the knowledge he gained from the Veldt would apply to the surface beneath the world.

It continued coming for him and finally barreled into him, sending him sprawling to the floor. Kindar frantically pulled himself back hoping he could escape to some sort of safety in the caves when he realized...

It was caressing his leg.

Its many legs were rubbing up and down his leg and the antennae were moving slowly, rhythmically around. Kindar reached out a hand again. The creature stopped a moment, and rubbed its antennae against it. Kindar reached up with a finger and rubbed its underbelly. It was soft and fleshy with blue and yellow markings similar to the ones on its shell. It chittered with apparent delight.

Rising to his knees, and eventually to his feet, Kindar looked down at the little boulder and smiled. "So what's your name, little one?" It chittered happily, and the man chuckled. "Well, for now, let's call you..." he thought a moment, "...Kebah." Once again, it caressed his leg. Kindar thought again for a bit, and prayed intensely that it wasn't trying to mate with him.

The man looked about again to see his surroundings. The ground was packed quite hard, and little grew except in tufts and clumpings of life where the earth had split apart and the soil beneath was revealed. The lighted waters were far in the distance, yet easily visible because of the constant glow. He wondered if night ever came to this land.

Cliffs arose hundreds of feet into the air behind him, and stopped at a roof of stone that covered the entire cavern for as far as could be seen. Miles of cavern lay in all directions but to the cliffs. Other juts of rock appeared here and there. Some rose a good ways, others were merely boulders embedded within the earth. Most were jagged or at least rough. Yet one wasn't. One far in the distance was quite even. The regular shape seemed unnatural to the wanderer. Squinting, he tried to get a better look at the form. It was roughly rectangular with other rectangular pieces rising out of the top of it.

Perplexed, the man began walking toward the creation. He looked back a moment to see Kebah engrossed in some kind of flower that grew out of the rock. "Kebah! You coming with me, little one?" Antennae flailing, the rocky creature ambled toward him and looked up at his knees. "Come on, little guy," he said, smiling. "Let's see the funny rock." As usual, the creature chittered a bit and followed the man.

* * * * * * * * * * *

It wasn't long before Kindar realized what it was that he had found. The rectangle that formed the base of the "rock" was, in truth, a wall. The others that rose above were towers and roofs of buildings. A fairly decent sized town sat among the granite and treeless earth. Coming closer, he saw bits of activity around the walls, movements just discernible in the distance.

As he walked on, he studied the forms as they moved. He noticed one stop a moment, then quickly run to another. They both stopped and then ran into the walls. Within a few minutes, several shapes came from out of the walls and began traveling toward the man. As they came closer, Kindar began to make out their stocky shapes. They wore mostly purple and red, and each had a large beard that nearly took over their faces. There could be no mistaking them.

They were dwarves.

"Human!" one shouted as they came near. As they met amidst the barren land, the one said again, "Human! Hi-Ho! It has been many years! It has been many generations even! Who are you, human? What brings you to the Underworld? And," he said pointing at Kindar's side, "how is it that you come traveling with a rock larvae?"

"My name is Kindar. I was taken away from the surface by a worm, a zone-eater. I've been trying to find a way to return, but I have found only this passage down. As for the larvae, here," it chittered and rubbed the man's leg, "it found me when I came to this place, and it seems harmless."

"Well then, Kindar. Come with us! Let us return to town and speak more of all this. But... leave the larvae."

Kindar stopped a moment. "Why should I leave Kebah? What about him is wrong?"

"You have named it? It is a wild beast!"

"I lived among the wilds for a long time. I understand them. This one means no harm. Please allow me to bring him into the city."

The speaker thought a moment. "Very well, Kindar. Kebah comes with. Then we are off to the city! Hi-Ho!"

The group turned and headed back to the city. Kindar walked along beside and talked about what he knew and of his past. Silently, he hoped. There was a way home. If any could find it, the dwarves could find it. There was a way home.

"Many answers are difficult to find. Sometimes, however, they lie just beneath the surface. To my surprise, that is just as literal as it is figurative."

* * * * * * * * *

"Welcome, Kindar, to Tomra! It has been generations since a human has visited our people. Many will be pleased to see they have returned."

"I'm not sure that humans have returned to the underworld for good. As I said, I found myself trapped here. As far as I know, I am the only one to have such a thing happen," said Kindar.

The dwarf thought a moment. "Well, it is no matter. Still you are among us, friend Kindar! The people will be overjoyed to hear news of the overworld!"

"Well..."

"Gimet."

"Well, Gimet, I'm afraid that I really don't know what has happened on the surface too recently," said the man quietly.

Gimet stopped and looked at the man. "Do you know of the tremors?"

"Well, yes. They shook the lands above and decimated the world all over. The water has risen to land, and land has fallen to water. Trees stood barren and fighting for life in soil that is rock and clay. Many creatures perished. Perhaps entire groups of them. But I do not know the reason for all of this."

Gimet said, "Well, Kindar. Then you can tell us of what you know. Over 500 years have passed since the parting of humans and dwarves. 500 years since the Dread Wars."

"Dread Wars?"

Gimet turned to a door and pushed it open for the man. Kindar looked at the building. It was stone as was most of the dwarven world. A wooden sign hung over the doorposts announcing the inn. "Come inside, man. We can relax and talk of this inside. I would offer you my home, but I have no room. I am sure, however, the innkeeper will gladly give you rest for the night and likely for as long as you wish."

Kindar nodded and entered. A dwarf sat behind a stone desk, writing on slips of paper. His beard was quite gray and, though full, very fine. He wore thick glasses, and they nearly flew off when the man approached. "Hi-Ho! Gimet! A human! Well, I don't believe! Where'd you come from, young'n?"

"Name's Kindar. I was taken underground, and searching for a way to return, I found myself here. Gimet says you can put me up for a time."

More nimble than Kindar thought someone that old could be, the older dwarf leapt from his chair and grabbed his hand and led him off. "Sure! Sure! Come with me! Best room in the place! Don't get many travelers. I can put you up! Haven't had humans in here for nigh 550 years! Hmmm..." He stopped a moment. "Don't even remember the last one."

Kindar started. "You've been around that long?"

"Well, sure!"

Gimet put a hand on the man's shoulder. "This is an incredible dwarf, Kindar. He's lived longer than anyone could've ever dreamed. His father owned this inn 600 years ago. When we closed the rift, Tamar, here, swore he wouldn't rest until the humans returned. He's lived by sheer will, I guess."

"It's right eating, I tell you! If all you little snips would just stay away from the rock candy, I tell you, you'd be older than I am!" said the elder waving a fist in the air.

Gimet said, "I understand, Tamar." He smiled and opened the door for Kindar. "I believe this is the room, isn't it, Tamar?"

"Yes, yes... I'll be up later this evening, Kindar, to see if there's anything I can get you." With that, he stepped back and nearly flew down the stairs.

Kindar nodded. "Lively."

Gimet laughed. "Oh, quite. You never are sure just what Tamar will do next." The mood became a little more serious as the two sat down. "Truly, though, Kindar. Do you not know of the Dread Wars?"

The man shook his head. "I don't believe so. Tell me about them. What brought them about and what happened?"

"That, man, was something that we hoped you could tell us. More than 500 years ago, Kindar, men began to thirst for more. More power. More magic. More of everything."

Kindar nodded again. "The War of the Magi, then."

"If that is what the humans choose to call it. The dwarves fought to stop these madmen. We used our might to smash them to the ground, but it was not enough. We didn't have the magic, Kindar. We couldn't stand against them. We would win the battles against their forces always, but we could not defeat the men themselves.

"Then came the machines. Infused with the power of the espers, we had no hope against them. We couldn't fend them off. We tried to combat them, but there was no hope for us. Yet we warred anyway. We were determined to prevent these men from taking over all.

"But not all of us. Not every dwarf supported the King. There was one especially. Minas. He was a dynamic speaker and had much influence among the people. He used this to sway the people to his view. He didn't want to fight any longer. 'This is not our war!' he would say. 'Leave the battle to the humans! They began this! Let them fight their own wars!'

"The king couldn't have it. He spoke back against Minas, but the people were tired of battle, Kindar. They supported Minas. They believed him. They rallied around him. The king was a fair dwarf. He would not do anything against his rival, but his word was still law. He supported those who would put away these madmen from the surface.

"But his health failed him. The constant pressure from the war and from Minas and his following was too much. He fell sick to disease and could no longer run the land. Within a few weeks, he perished. Without an heir, there was no clear successor to his throne. The people, however, made their choice. They pushed Minas above all others to rule over them. Under his command, all dwarves returned from the surface, and the rift was sealed. The dwarves would no longer associate with humans. They felt that they should finish their own. That we would be safe away from the battles above.

"Many still do not agree with the choices that were made so long ago, but they were made. And we live with them to this day. But we wish to know, human. There has been no way to know. What was the result of the Dread Wars? Mankind has obviously survived, but what happened then? What has happened until now?"

Kindar leaned back and began to speak...

"But I couldn't shake the feeling..."

* * * * * * * * * *

Kindar's voice took over. "For many months after the dwarves left, it seemed that the war would never end. Battles continually raged, destroying towns, ravaging castles." The man stopped a moment and looked up. "Even Baron was taken."

His gaze returned to the dwarf opposite him. "I'm not terribly clear on the details of the war. I don't think that most people truly are. It's, for the most part, facts that the historians keep track of. But I do know this: the tide of the war finally turned when the espers left."

Gimet looked surprised. "The espers left?"

"Indeed," replied Kindar. "Left and never returned. Many were hiding somewhere, focusing their power, and creating. Creating a new world. Finally, they gathered together and departed for this world, sealed the entrance with giant iron doors, and locked themselves away for eternity.

"And when they left, so did the magic."

Gimet nodded. "That explains it. There were few among us who knew the art of sorcery, but there were some. Or so it is said. After so many years, it is difficult to tell. So much has been passed into legend. The concept of magic can hardly be reconciled with science proving so many questions about the world. Tamar speaks of it sometimes, but most consider him merely senile. Still, his words so often touch a place in the hearts of the dwarves that though magic disappeared from the world, it never left our spirits."

Kindar said, "After the espers departed, the Mages were confused for a time, not knowing what to do without a constant source of magic to infuse their creations with. Though the population was decimated, they joined together to kill them. No Mages survived. Mankind wouldn't let them. Not with the risk of everything again."

"And what has happened since then on the sun-lit lands?" Gimet asked.

"Technology has grown. Water and steam create power for machines, replacing the magic that was lost. We have learned much about how our world works." Kindar looked down a moment and thought of the Veldt. "Sometimes, though, I wonder if we have forgotten that nature has much to offer as well."

"How many towns remain above? Does Agart still survive?"

Kindar shook his head. "Unfortunately not. Dozens of people were lost when the storms came. Waves crashed against the island and engulfed the town. Only a cliff remains of the mountains now. Dry land is sparse. It stands alone in the ocean, merely a solitary island.

"I doubt that you would recognize any of the towns that survive today. I hail from the Castle Doma. Nikeah is not too distant from there, perhaps a few weeks travel. The town on the Veldt, never did find the name, is quite close as well. An Island far south holds a few towns, Albrook, Maranda..." His voice trailed. "I don't remember others. Further west, there's Figaro and South Figaro. Across the mountains, Kohlingen and Jidoor. There's also a town up north, Narshe. As cold as this place is warm." Kindar stopped and thought. "There's probably others hiding here and there, but that's all that I know of... or knew of. Perhaps the quakes have changed things. It's so difficult to tell. How does one know?

"In any event, what has happened here?"

Gimet said, "We seem to have advanced technologically fairly similarly, though we use different fuels for our machines. Mainly coal. As for our town and castle, when the world began to split apart, the land bridge again broke apart, and we of Tomra are separated from the majority of our brothers. But we have lived before alone. We will survive again alone."

The door was flung open and a very energetic dwarf skipped in. "Well, friend Kindar, how are... Get that thing off my bed!"

Puzzled, the man turned. Laughing a bit, he chirped through his teeth and called out, "Kebah. Come down, little one." The larvae chittered and dropped to the floor. It scurried over to Kindar and caresses his legs as usual. "Sorry, Tamar. Gimet and I were talking and didn't notice. I'll keep him down."

"Never thought I'd see the day when I'd let a rock larva into my inn," said Tamar, shaking his head. "But no matter. Is there anything I can get for you before you sleep?"

"It is night then? I can't tell. The light never dims."

"No, there is no sun here as there is on your surface-world. We cannot tell physically when night comes. There is no difference, really. We dwarves have just found it easier to agree on times to sleep, and it is coming nigh."

Kindar said, "Well, then, could you perhaps get me some tea?"

"Mushroom tea right away!"

Kindar winced. "Stop!... Please... Never mind..."

Gimet rose. "Well, Kindar, sleep this evening, and we shall greet the people in the morning. You may stay as long as you like..."

"As long as that bug stays off my bed!" called a voice from below.

Gimet smiled. "With some small qualifications."

"Thank you, Gimet. It will be pleasant to stay among civilization again."

"It has been a time then?"

Kindar nodded. "Quite a time, friend. I shall tell you in the morning."

"Good night, man."

"Good night, dwarf."

Kindar removed his clothing and set it out on the dresser. Boots were placed carefully by the bedside. Rinjai hung from the post. He sat and thought a moment while Kebah shuffled beneath the bed. Then, with a smile, he extinguished the lamp and settled to sleep, lulled by the chittering of a friend.

"Yet there I was in the middle of Tomra, somebody shaking me. I knew it wasn't morning. It couldn't be. Yet still, somebody was furiously trying to get me awake.

"I just wish I had listened to him."

* * * * * * * * * * *

"Kindar!"

A small earthquake was tearing Kindar from his slumber. And it was speaking to him.

"Please, Kindar! You have to wake up! Please!"

A small, pleading earthquake with a very familiar voice. Kindar rolled over and looked up. Tamar stood over him, his face in a mask of worry.

"What is it, Tamar?" Kindar mumbled, rolling back to his side.

"Kindar," said the ancient dwarf, "you can't go back tomorrow! You can't go back to the surface world! Please!"

"But they've been following my trails and working on an exit for two weeks now. I go back tomorrow."

"No, Kindar! You can't! I beg of you!"

The man rolled over again and looked in the dwarf's eyes. Tears were streaming down his face, his aged lips trembling. "Why, Tamar? What is it?"

Tamar breathed deeply a moment and spoke, "I had a dream, Kindar. I dreamed that someday, on the surface world, you find the one. The one who killed your child. And somehow, Kindar," the dwarf stopped a moment trying to pull his words together, "that one uses a sword that hurts you more than any pain you have ever felt."

Kindar thought back to awakening after being swallowed by the zone eater. "Not possible..." he mumbled.

Tamar pleaded, "Please, friend! Don't go back to the surface!

"Kindar, I'm not going to survive this night. I know that. I've lived over 620 years. My time has come many times over. I cannot continue to cheat death. Take over the inn for me, Kindar! Stay here under the surface-world. Stay where you will never find the man who killed your son! I beg of you, Kindar! Please! All that I have is yours!"

Kindar looked up at the elder. "Tamar," he said soothingly, "I have to go back to the surface. That is my home. My time here is over. Your dream is just that, Tamar. A dream. Go back to sleep, friend. We can talk in the morning."

Tamar turned and ran from the room. Kindar could only watch a moment before sleep overcame him again.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Kindar didn't care if he was underground and they happened often.

Two earthquakes were not meant to wake him in one night.

"Stop shaking..."

Another familiar voice broke through as the shaking stopped. "I'm sorry, Kindar, but I have news."

"Can't it wait 'till morning, Gimet?"

"It is morning, Kindar."

"Can't it wait 'till afternoon, then?"

"Tamar said you were difficult to get up. I believe it fully, now. But Kindar, there's news. A hole to the surface has been created. We couldn't find your original path, quite, but we made it back to the castle and opened a tunnel around there. You can go home, Kindar."

Kindar buried his face in the pillow. "Great... I'll be down to head out in an hour or so."

Gimet spoke again, "That's not the only news, Kindar."

The man mumbled something indecypherable into the pillow.

"Tamar passed away in his sleep last night."

Kindar was awake. "What!"

I found him this morning. I thought something was wrong when he didn't greet me at the desk. When I checked his room, he was lying in his bed, finally gone to see his father again."

Kindar pulled on his robe and slid into boots. "Take me to him, Gimet."

"Kindar, perhaps it would be better if you were to clothe yourself first. He'll remain at least until you fin-"

The knight cut him off. "Take me to him now, Gimet."

The dwarf nodded.

* * * * * * * * * * *

The thought of returning to the surface invigorated him. The thought of Tamar did not. Trekking through the tunnels again, he felt guilty at being happy. How could he? A friend did not wake up in the morning. Yes, he was old, but he was a good dwarf. He had more life in his body than any other being Kindar had ever seen.

Kebah chittered behind him. He turned and pat the larva. "Yes, little one. I'm all right. I'll be fine." It returned a deeper, slower chitter. "Don't worry, Kebah. Everything will be all right."

"We're here, Kindar."

The man looked up at the sight. An enormous cavern was just ahead. A fair ways away, wooden planks lined out into a massive depression. Rubble and boulders blocked what was once a dragon-sized exit. It was the home of the Enterprise.

The party took to the stairs on the right. For nearly five minutes, they walked up into the darkness. Despite knowing where it was leading, Kindar still felt anxious at the thought of moving upwards through the darkness.

When the doorway opened again, Kindar shielded his eyes from the light. "Rinjai, can't you cut that down a bit?" There was nothing. It seemed the sword had spoken all it was going to. The light remained. It was bearable after a moment, and Kindar followed as Gimet and the others led him outside.

"Someday, Kindar, we return here. Now that we know of this place, we will return to honor this castle and its former people. It was once a source of great evil, but also a source of a greater good. Perhaps we may even make it a part of our world." Gimet smiled. "It seems that the light never dims from here either."

Another hour or so and the party found its way to the hole. Sunlight streamed down under to greet the travelers. Kebah backed away from it, but soon found it tolerable, perhaps even likable. The dwarves marveled that the world could be so green and beautiful.

"Your world, man," said Gimet. "You are home."

"Will you come with me, friend?"

The dwarf shook his head. "Nay. My home is beneath. Yet, perhaps someday I will come to visit your world. Perhaps I will come to find you again, Kindar. Until then..."

The two sized each other up a moment, and then clasped hands.

"Someday, Gimet." He turned. Kebah moved to follow him. The dwarves watched as the man walked into the sunlight.