His chain armor deflected the blade, but the impact pushed the air out of his lungs with a grunt. His detatchment from the battle quickly turned to irritation, and he dispatched his opponent with a vicious double stroke, spilling the man's guts on the ground, and then reversing the direction of the stroke to remove the villager's head.

He turned around and hurried after the dark monk, Shamel. Once at his side, he joined the defensive circle and then, after making sure that no one was stupid enough to be trying to attack them, turned to Shamel. "What about Toroy?" he asked. "May I help him?"

"Do not be stupider than you already are," was the reply. "His life can be used to cover our escape; do not endanger us more than we already are by foolishly trying to save him. This village is stronger than we expected."

"But he's my friend, I can't -"

Lyrix was cut off in midsentence by the harsh voice of the monk. "You do not have 'friends' here, boy! You are a soldier, here to do the work of the chapter, and nothing else! Friendship is idiocy, since it can never last. Rather be glad that Toroy is going to go to a better place, and be envious of his fate. But DO NOT try to stop that which fate has ordained!"

Lyrix didn't know what to do. His mind was in turmoil. He _knew_ that what the monk said was right, but at the same time, there was something inside of him screaming, 'This is wrong. He is your friend. You must save him.' He hesitated, unsure what to do, when suddenly he heard Toroy's voice cry, "Help me. Help!" He spun around and started towards Toroy, reasoning that at worst he would leave the monk with only four guards... what damage could that do? None of the villagers would dare to follow, and if he could save Toroy, then surely the worst that would happen would be a reprimand, and a flogging.

A bony hand grabbed his arm as he moved past the monk, and he was wrenched off balance. "Do not try to leave me," hissed the monk, pushing his cowled face close to Lyrix's. "If you do, then..." He never finished the sentence. Lyrix swung his other hand, the one holding the short sword, at the monk's head. He felt the hilt connect, and the grip on his arm weakened and then dropped away completely as the monk flopped to the ground.

Horror hammered at his brain, even as he ran towards his friend. He could see two villagers running away, and two bodies lying on the ground. "No." he sobbed. Toroy lay face down on the bloody grass, his hand still clutching at the pitchfork that protruded through his chest, the handle sticking obscenely in the air above him. "Noooooo!" he screamed at the sky. He gently reached down and turned Toroy's head so that he could see his face. It was contorted in agony, and there was a hint of something else there. His hand turned chill all of a sudden, as he recognized it. It was the look of betrayal. He pulled his hand away as if stung, and wiped it against his cloak.

Helplessly, his mind numb, he turned around to walk back to the group of guards. He could see the monk, supported by two guards, pointing at him with one hand as the other was held to his forehead. At first Shamel's words didn't register, and then he realized what the monk was saying. "Kill him. He has dared to lay hands on my person." He stared directly into Lyrix's eyes. "You shall never reach heaven when I have you in my hands, I can promise you that!" he ranted. "Your soul will float forever in oblivion, and you will never know the peace of what we bring to the villagers. For you...." He gasped, and then collapsed against the two guards holding him. They milled about confusedly, then turned towards Lyrix and began to stalk towards him, their faces masks of pure hatred.

He began to back away slowly, knowing that he wasn't good enough a fighter to be able to beat them all, and also knowing that now there was no return for him to the chapter. Only death awaited him there, and so he turned and fled into the surrounding darkness, his dark cloak flapping behind him, until he melted into the forest as if he had never been.

The sailors only came down occasionally, and when they did, they were quite easy to avoid - the holds were crowded and large, and afforded many hiding places. On three occasions, he'd snuck up onto deck during the night, and managed to overhear several conversations. However, he still didn't know exactly where it was that he was going; he hoped to be able to get close enough to the captain's cabin that he would be able to overhear some conversations or search the room.

Light still gleamed through the cracks between the boards, however, and the voices of sailors were loud and raucous. It was probably a good idea to rest again; his senses seemed to be more attuned to the sea now, and his body would wake him at the right time... dusk was generally the best. He curled up again on his little bed of sacks, doing his best to ignore the beady little eyes that peered out from under stacks of cloth and grain. He'd slept most of the trip, apart from doing some exercises to keep himself in shape, and his body had managed to adapt itself so that he could sleep whenever he wanted to.

* * * * * * * * * *

He blinked his eyes slowly, trying to keep an involuntary shout in as he brushed three rats off his bed and himself. They scampered off into the darkness, their claws making little skittering noises on the boards. Listening to the sounds from the deck above, something seemed out of place. He got up and moved over to the side of the ship, and peered between the planks of wood. There was still a little light, but it was almost dark.

So what was bothering him? He moved as close to the hatch to the upper deck as he dared so that still be able to duck back into hiding if necessary, and strained to hear what was happening above. There was a noisy babble of voices up to the front of the ship, and he wasn't able to make sense of any words, until a voice cut over the top of the din and said, "Captain, they are close enough now for the scope of seeing to get enough detail.

"They don't match the shape and outfit of pirates, but they are flying a flag that I've never seen before. It seems to be a deep green background, with two spheres on it, one half over the other. One is blue, and the other one, which is partly behind it is gold. Other than that, there isn't much I can tell. There seems to be some sort of magic at work which is obscuring the detail of the scope."

It was with a sinking feeling in his heart that Lyrix did what the other couldn't. He identified the flag. He should have known that the chapter wouldn't give up so easily; after all, Shamel was a powerful brother, and he wasn't likely to forget the insult to his person too easily. He hadn't realized that they had ships of their own. Then again, the more that he thought about it, it was more likely that they had taken the ship over, and the crew were flying the flag under duress.

It didn't matter either way, though. The chapter had their own knowledge and items of magic; everyone who worked at the chapter knew that. If they wanted to catch up to this ship, then there was no way that they could be stopped unless they were opposed by magic. He didn't think that this ship had anything more powerful than their 'scope'. However, he waited below in the hope that the ship wouldn't come any closer.

After a fretful half hour, though, his hopes were dashed when he heard a voice say, "Captain, it's gained on us. They're only half as far away as before."

"So? Don't just stand there and let them catch us. I don't care who they are; I'm not letting them get any nearer to us than I can help. _NO_ strange ship gets near me, do you hear? We're near enough to land now that we can put ashore if anything happen s. Now get back to those sails."

"Yes sir" was the reply, and Lyrix heard footsteps hurrying over the boards above his head. He had to get away now, he knew. If the chapter was able to board this ship, then he would be as good as dead. He didn't know if they could affect his soul, but he sure wanted to stay alive, if only to make up to Toroy for not helping him when he should have. The look of betrayal that he'd seen on his friend's face still seared his conscience every time he thought about it.

Straining his ears at the hatch, he listened for the sounds of anyone nearby. Hearing nothing, he carefully used a stiletto to slip the lock on the hatch and then slowly lifted it. There was nobody in sight, so he quickly slipped out and secured the hatch again. He knew that if any one saw him, his clothes would mark him as no sailor, so he kept to shadows as best he could on the rocking deck; the footing was much more treacherous up top than it had been down below.

He had taken careful notice of the ship when he had boarded it back at Zozo, and he knew that it towed a small rowboat behind it; he didn't know why, but he guessed that it was used for small trips between the ship and shore for small items or food or something that was needed. He figured that if they were as close to land as the captain had made out, he would be able to make it in the unfamiliar craft. As he hugged the sides of the low cabin which adorned the back of the ship, he peered towards the rear. Sure enough, there was a sailor there, perhaps watching the boat to make sure that no one stole the boat, or perhaps just by chance.

It didn't matter, he would have to be removed. However, for some reason, Lyrix couldn't bring himself to kill the man; he had nothing against him, and it didn't seem fair to cut short the life of someone who probably had friends who would mourn him, since he knew how it felt to lose someone close to you. The two short weeks had changed him somehow; he was thinking a lot more about the consequences of his actions. Perhaps it was because he was no longer within the chapter, or prehaps it was Toroy's death - it didn't matter.

Slipping forward in a rush, he employed a paralysis hold he had been taught, and then hit the surprised sailor soundly on the head. He lowered the limp body to the deck and quickly dragged the man next to a pile of ropes where he did his best to disguise the human shape. Moving back to the afterdeck, he paused for a moment to stare at the pursuing ship. Even without the crew's mgical artifact, he could see it reasonably clearly, enough to see that the flag it was flying was the one he'd expected to see. He took another few precious seconds to peer around for the sight of land. It was much closer than he had expected; he could see it even in the half dark, off to the right.

Wasting no more time in idle thought, he shinnied down the rope to the boat, his cloak hanging into the water and making it difficult to keep hold of the rope. Finally he made it to the rowboat, wet and cold, but intact. He considered removing his cloak since it was a hindrance, but he finally decided against it - the hold had protected him from the wind a lot more than he'd realized. Drawing his dagger, he sliced through the thick rope which secured the two boats together.

It parted with a faint twang, and then his craft was rocking on the swells of the sea. He'd never rowed a boat before, although he'd seen it done enough. Trying to put the slippery oars through the rowlocks with cold and numb hands was a chore, and he wasted a lot of valuable time in the process, but finally he had them in. Sitting down, he began the laborious and tiring job of rowing towards land.

He began to think that he would make it without being spotted when he heard a faint shout borne on the wind. Glancing up at the ship he had left, he could see sailors clustering the sides nearest him, and a couple seemed to be pointing at him. On a hunch, he glanced back at the chapter's ship, and saw that, somehow, they seemed to know what was happening, for it had started to veer towards him.

He had covered more than half the distance to land, and the other ship would have to beat against the wind, but he knew it would be a close thing - his arms were already tired from the unfamiliar exercise, and he was no professional, so he wasn't making the speed he would have liked. When he was within a hundred meters of the shoreline, he saw the chapter ship releasing their small boat, and he renewed his efforts. They were rapidly gaining on him, though, and he finally jumped out and waded ashore.

He could hear the familiar voice of Shamel in the boat, screaming out, "I want him alive! He must be made to SUFFER for his crimes. If any one of you kills him, you will be taking his place in the tower. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?" His heart quickened once he reached the dry sand - he could hear splashing behind him, and the knew that the rest of the guards weren't far away. Making a last desperate dash, he ran as fast as he was able to with his cramped legs, pumping them wildly as he slipped and staggered in the soft sand.

When the sand changed to rough stone, he nearly slipped and fell, but recovered quickly. Even as he ran, he was figuring out how he could get away. He knew that he had an advantage over his pursuers: he could kill them, whereas none of them would dare - Shamel's threat had assured him of that, they would rather die by his sword than face "the tower".

But he was tired from the rowing, and weak from his stay on the ship, whereas they were still reasonably fresh. They would be able to overcome him, if by numbers only. He was sure that Shamel would have only taken the best guards, though, nothing less would satisfy him. In his current state, he would be no match for their skill. They would take him alive, without a doubt.

Crashing through the thin underbrush that led into the dense growth of the land, he felt a sudden uplifting of his soul. He couldn't explain it, but somehow, he felt a renewal of hope that he could evade his pursuers. He had been one of the best scouts at the chapter, and he would take his chances in the bush. He headed deeper into the dark heart of the forest, into an uncertain and unknown future.

Remembering that she had traveled to Daryl's Tomb, Gogo awoke to find herself within Daryl's coffin. How had she gotten there? Evidently she had been exhausted from the long walk, and this was the most convenient place to rest.

Gogo recalled last night's plans: to the Veldt, then north, just like the note said. First things first, though. Get out of this sepulchral mausoleum, and find a way across the northwest sea to the Veldt. That was when the footsteps started. Someone was approcahing!

A man walked up the stairs to the dais. He was tall and swarthy, wearing dark armor and a black mask, similar to Gogo's, leaving only the eyes uncovered, with a large white scar noticeable through one eye. A skull-shaped pendant hung on a necklace of carved... ivory? She had seen him by lifting her head slightly, just enough to make out distinct figures. Unfortunately, he saw her as well. Just one thing to do: play dead.

"Hm. This coffin is occupied. Let's see - 'Daryl Sleeps Here'. This must be Daryl. Nice to see death preserved so; he - er, she - um, Daryl looks almost alive..."

"That's because I am." Gogo sat up with a start, hoping to shock, or at least surprise, him.

"Curses. Death is such a wonderful thing. I'm sure you would have preferred it to this sad alternative."

"I beg your pardon? I am Gogo, master of the simulacrum..." Gogo gave the old routine again.

"A pleasure, I'm sure. Rather a pity, however, that this place of death contains one who is unfortunately living, chained to the material world."

"You aren't?"

"I am as well. My name is Lyrix, a Guard to my Chapter. My brothers and I hold death in utmost solemn reverence - the passage out a world is a momentous occasion in all of our souls' lives." His deep bass voice suited the speech perfectly.

"I think I understand. Now, could you please stand aside? I have a mission."

"As do I. I am running from the other guards of my Chapter - they are in pursuit of my body, for I, according to them, have committed a serious crime."

There was a long pause.

"How did you come here?" Gogo asked finally.

"I was on a ship, as a stowaway, then leapt overboard when it was attacked."

"Would you object terribly if you came with me? To the Veldt?"

"The Veldt? Why would anyone want to go there?"

"That's part of my mission."

"Give me one good reason to come with you."

"Fair enough. I couldn't help but notice your swords."

"What do my swords have to do with anything?"

"Watch. Hand me one of them - you have a matched pair, I take it?"

"I carry many. Take this one - leave my sight with it, and I have several more to put you in abject pain with. To kill you would be merciful."

"Fine. Now, arm yourself with its twin."

Lyrix did so.

"All right. Now what?"

"Do something with it - your fanciest acrobatic move with a sword." Judging by the befuddled look on Lyrix's face, this demonstration would go well. Shaking his confusion off, he began to swing his sword at the ground. It hit the packed stone with a noisy clang, after which Lyrix, in a surprising act of agility for a man his size, flipped neatly over the hilt and swung his short sword in a circular arc in front of him. "I could have done something much more elaborate, but I did not want to extend this meeting any further. I have a job as well."

"Don't worry." Gogo swung the sword just as Lyrix had, flipping over it and swinging the blade in an identical arc. "I do too, and I'm taking the time out to show you my talents. Surely you have time for me." She handed the sword back to Lyrix.

"Impressive," said Lyrix, his face as emotionless as stone. "You may be of some use after all. Shall we strike a deal? We shall go to the Veldt, and complete your mission, on the condition that you aid me in escaping from these guards. Do we have an agreement?"

"We have an agreement," echoed Gogo in the same bass voice. "Let's go."

"How? The Veldt is abroad, over the ocean. How will we get there?"

"I was rather hoping you would have an idea..."

Just then, a sound of footfalls. Shouting voices: "Lyrix! Come on out! We know you're in there - accept your fate and come with us!" The two shrouded figures glanced at one another.

"The way I see it," began Gogo, "there are two alternatives. Either we fight, or they kill us."

"They wouldn't kill us. They would skewer you and leave you here to writhe in pain, then bring me back to our Headquarters to do inflict even more painful torture on me. Death would -"

"Yes, I know. You keep saying that. Still, they're coming closer. One choice left --"

"Lyrix. We urge you to come out, now," the voice from outside yelled. "You can't hide in there forever, and I'm sure that your loyalty to the chapter will drive you forwards." The sarcasm in the voice was obvious.

Glancing at Gogo, he thought for a moment. "They won't want to come in here if they can help it," he mused. "And they know that I won't come out there to fight them." He smiled, then, a rather unpleasant smile, and said, "But they will _have_ to come in here eventually - Shamel will make sure of that - and if they don't, _they_ will be the ones to suffer. We might as well wait for them."

Gogo nodded then, and inquired, "You have a plan?"

Trying not to smile at Gogo's faith in his abilities, Lyrix replied in as grave a tone as he could. "Since they will eventually have to enter, we must be waiting for them. Tell me, how well do you know this... this place?"

"Not too well, I'm afraid," was the answer. "I really only slept here for the night. BUT, couldn't we just wait and get them as they walk in the door?"

"Sure, and they're so dumb that they would fall for that one, too. Then again..." He paused for a moment. "Is there only one entrance to this place?"

"Sure, as far as I know..."

"With the two of us, we should be able to send them to a glorious death; their passage to the other world shall be as swift as possible, despite the fact they are trying to do the opposite to me."

Just then, quiet movement could be heard, as at least two men circled the mausoleum. Quickly, in long, quiet strides, Lyrix moved to the entrance and gestured for Gogo to do the same. He withdrew a long dirk and replaced his shortsword with it. Raising his blades in a ready posture he froze, watching as Gogo followed suit.

Both of them seemed as if they were a part of the furniture, so still were they standing. A head slipped around the entrance near the ground, and peered around. Both Lyrix and Gogo were wearing dark clothes and blended into the shadows. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, the head withdrew, and then two soldiers crept in.

In a sudden whirl of action, Lyrix and the mimic swept into movement, bringing their blades around in a short, savage arc which should have connected with the backs of the soldiers' necks. However, the one Lyrix was aiming for sensed something and ducked at the last minute. The blade clanged off the steel helm, and Lyrix, thrown off balance because of his altered stroke, missed with the dirk.

The man fell sideways to the floor, dazed, but still conscious. The head of Gogo's opponent rolled along the ground towards him. Stepping forward, Lyrix moved to finish his opponent, dropping to one knee and cutting the man's throat with his dirk. Hearing movement behind him, he turned his kneel into a roll, sliding forwards and to the side so that his momentum would carry him out of harm's way.

He came out of it facing the third soldier who had entered the door, and swung his blades in a deadly arc of steel. The soldier parried the sword, while his shield blocked the thrust of the dirk. Lyrix was already slightly out of breath, his energy expended by the crazed run through the forest and his previous stay on the boat. He could see Gogo coming towards his opponent from behind, and he smiled grimly.

A sudden explosion from above sent his gaze involuntarily upwards, and the movement nearly cost him his life, as the soldier took his chance and thrust for Lyrix's face. Stepping backwards to avoid the blade, while bringing his own blades up to block the thrust, he tripped over the body of one of the dead soldiers.

He stumbled and lost his balance. Twisting wildly, he tried to land so as to absorb the impact, but instead he hit awkwardly, driving the wind out of his lungs. Gogo moved on the upright soldier in a flash, the sword biting deeply into the man's side. Meanwhile, the two guards who had magically blown the roof open dropped down on light ropes; one moved to attack Gogo, while the other stepped forward with the aim of knocking Lyrix unconscious.

Lyrix could see Gogo's desperate attempt to challenge the guard - no longer able to use Lyrix's movements. He was unable to help at the moment, furiously rolling to dodge the feet that were aiming for his head. Suddenly reversing his direction, he knocked the unwounded soldier off his feet, but, unable to press his advantage, he had to leave him and roll to his feet.

Now he brought his swords back into play, moving into an offensive triple strike, his longsword flashing into the man's midriff, while the dirk caught the other man's sword on the hilt. The longsword was blocked by the shield, so he immediately reversed the swing and went for the throat.

Meanwhile, Gogo had had a bit more luck with his opponent. The soldier hadn't expected his sudden emulation of Lyrix's movements - his skill up to that point hadn't been too great. He still managed to block the first two strikes, but the third stroke manged to pierce his guard and sliced the soldiers throat open.

Blood spattered Gogo, and got in his eyes. Unable to see, he carefully stepped backwards, where his memory told him no one was. He wiped his eyes free, and in that moment, he saw the wounded guard trip Lyrix, and then hold onto him as the second guard brought his foot into the side of Lyrix's head.

Gogo began to move towards him, watching as Lyrix stabbed wildly behind him with the dirk, burying it to the hilt in the chest of the soldier holding him. Springing forward with a bound, before the second soldier even realized he was there, he plunged his blade into the soldier's back as hard as he could. With a grating noise, the blade passed through the light chain he wore and protruded from his chest. With a gasp, the man started to turn, and then fell forward onto his face.

With a feeling of triumph, Gogo quickly leant down and checked to see if Lyrix was alright. He had a nasty looking bump on the temple, but apart from that, he seemed okay. "Now," he thought to himself, "how the hell am I going to get him out of here by myself?" He sighed. "Let's hope he's not too heavy..." He slipped his hands under Lyrix's arms and began to drag him.

"So. We must find a way to get to the Veldt. It lies far to the east, correct?" spoke the guard.

"Not quite," smirked Gogo. "The world may be square, but the edges connect. We can travel west, and get there in a much shorter time."

"Fine. West it is. Our problem is, how to get there...?"

"Well, no boats go to Mobliz anymore -"

"Who says they don't?" asked Lyrix, gesturing at the tall trees.

"Surely you don't mean -"

"We can build a raft, and make it there in a matter of days."

"Days, yes. Days of hunger, rough seas, the occasional sea monster - besides, I'd much rather get there sooner."

"Hm. Hmmm... hmmmmmmmmmm... I'm completely confounded, Gogo. What method could we use to get there?"

After a moment's thought, Gogo had a rare original idea. "Let's use the Serpent Trench!"

Lyrix looked quite puzzled. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but doesn't the Serpent Trench run from the Veldt to Nikeah? And isn't it above water now?"

"Think about it. A trench is a depression in the ocean, correct? When the world was shattered, why did the Trench rise higher than the rest of the ocean?"

"I don't know. Why?"

"Because of the currents! The swift flow of water caused the sea floor of the Trench to rise faster than that of the rest of the ocean."

"SO?"

"The currents must still be there somewhere. If I'm correct, the currents that normally flowed through the Serpent Trench have now been deflected and diverted - one of them should, if I'm not completely mistaken, lead from somewhere around here to the Veldt. After all, the old Crescent Mountain was not the beginning of the current - it started off the coast, near here."

"I vaguely see your reasoning - but how will we breathe underwater during the journey?"

Gogo smiled, although it was nearly impossible to tell, given the layers of cloth over her mouth. "I've found that wearing all these layers of clothes not only makes me look more mysterious, I can hide useful items in the folds and pockets. These, for instance..." With a flourish, Gogo produced a square sheet of some thick leather-like material. "Cut this in half, will you?"

Annoyed that the mimic was bossing a man of such stature around, Lyrix grimaced. "I suppose it's the only way to get to the Veldt. After all, a deal's a deal." With an audible SLASH!, the square was neatly bisected.

"Good. Now, hold it over your mouth, and jump in. These are some material I bought somewhere, before the collapse, that supposedly filter out all the breathable air that's in the water. If we hurry, we can make it to the Veldt in a few hours - let's go!"

"Why do I put up with this?..."

A loud double splash, and the two were finally on their way.

"All right, mimic, what now?" His tone was anything but pleasant.

"Straight forward. I don't have a compass, and it's high noon, so I don't have a clue which way is north."

"So you're suggesting we march in any direction at random?"

"Sometimes, Lyrix, you just have to FEEL your way through a situation." Gogo recoiled slightly at hearing herself speak those words. Where _had_ that phrase come from?

"Argh."

Noon on the humid Veldt was not the best situation for two heavily shrouded figures to be in. Gogo and Lyrix cooked in their outfits, almost literally. The sun beat down hard, and the flat expanse seemed endless. The nights were better, but not by much. For three days, they wandered in a straight line, destination unknown. Then Lyrix saw something.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, Gogo, but isn't that a town?"

It certainly was. Where no town had been known to exist before, there was a small village, composed of a number of grass huts. A single hut stood prominent in the center. The companions nodded at one another. That was the place they would head.

The thatched wall that surrounded the village had only one gate. This gate was guarded. Quite well, in fact - a single monster stood in front. Gogo recognized it from her days in Triangle Island - this was an Ogor, a four-armed sword-wielding giant.

"Yaaaaaaargh!" yelled the monster, charging the duo. Lyrix's swords were out even faster, parrying the Ogor's multiple thrusts, and managing to get a few slices in himself. Gogo would have joined in the melee, had a female voice not called something out in a completely foreign language.

"Lajjrach!" The Ogor stopped, and assumed an "attention" position. A young woman approached them, dressed in clothes that looked like Gau's typical outfit - hides, crudely tailored into a rudimentary outfit. "Xannwath shazaknaral poska?"

The monster responded. "Gorra lipachnach, trauvirong pammalra..." It launched into a small argument with the woman, all in the strange tongue, punctuating it with impossible gestures. The discussion stopped, the monster drew back from the gate, and the woman beckoned for Lyrix and Gogo to follow.

*******

Led into the large central hut and up a rope ladder, the two found themselves in a large chamber, in which stood nine people - the woman from earlier, an identically dressed man, several children, and a young baby. It came as a slight shock when the man spoke, perfectly understandably, to the woman.

"So, Katrina, these are the intruders Khalrach stopped?"

She responded, "Yes, Duane, he was just doing his job. They don't look like our typical bandits, though -" She turned to face them. "Who are you? What are you doing here?"

They introduced themselves. "Our intentions are honorable, I am sure. We are travelers, and need a haven from this weather, as well as a place to rest."

"Look no further. I have an intuition about these things - you are not lying. Stay here in Veldtamba as long as you care to."

"Veldtamba?"

"We are the survivors of Mobliz. After traveling a long way back to the Veldt, to set up a new home in more familiar territory, we found ourselves surrounded by monsters. They did not attack us, for some reason, but led us to this patch of ground. We do not know why. We assume they had a collective vision, or such, of our purpose here."

"What do you do?"

"We educate the more intelligent of the monsters in the ways of civilization. The rest of the village is theirs; we only oversee and teach. Khalrach, the guard, is actually a decent, caring being. He was just doing his job. They even have a religion, which we set up to be as fitting to them as possible."

"Go on," encouraged Lyrix. Talk of others' beliefs had always intrigued him.

"They worship Espers. We all know they existed - what were they, though, but civilized supernatural monsters? They consider Terra to be a prophet, sent forth to begin a new era. There is an altar downstairs, at which we give sermons on the War of the Magi, on Kefka and the Collapse, on history, language, and even simple science. The monsters have great potential to make their mark in the world; we are helping them along. Come, guests, let me show you to your rooms."

***********

That night, a rowboat pulled up to the shore of the Veldt, and a single man, robed in black, marched across the expanse towards Veltamba. Shamel smiled. Finally, Lyrix would be theirs.

Slowly but surely, a shadow slipped across the bare landscape, seeming to flit from shadow to shadow, never staying still long enough to be seen properly, but far too furtive to be up to any good. And always, even as it zig-zagged from shadow to shadow, it moved towards a cluster of thatch dwellings, ringed around by a wall. Once it was within bowshot of the village, the figure squatted in the shadow of one of the larger bushes that dotted the landscape.

If anyone had been watching, they would have seen the figure throw back the hood which covered it's head, revealing a pale face in the moonlight. And if the watcher had been acquainted with recent happenings, they would have recognised the face of Shamel, a powerful brother in a little-known cult which belonged far away from this place.

Resting his tired legs, Shamel surveyed the village, his eyes burning with a fierce light that belied the wrinkled visage of his face. Nothing moved in the light; the village could have been abandoned, for all the noise it made. And yet, he _knew_ it was inhabited - this was the place where Lyrix and his companion were sheltering; Lyrix, that traitor to the faith, the one man who had dared to raise a hand against HIM, the person to whom he owed all, who had taken him off the diseased streets of some forgotten city and raised him in the true faith; taught him all he could of the ways of life.

And now, now his betrayal hurt worse than any other, hurt him where he thought he was no longer vulnerable. And so, for that reason, he would be made to pay. For raising a hand against one of the borthers his life was forfeit, as it should be, but now there was something personal in it for Shamel, now he had to make the rogue understand the hurt he had caused him. And so, when he captured him, he would make sure that he suffered the worst of any he had sent to the otherworld, for only by suffering could he cleanse his soul of all the srongs he had committed.

Even as he thought this, his bright eyes were continually watching the village. And eventually, his vigilance was rewarded with movement - a large figure moved up on the village wall. He had expected a guard, but there was something so strange about this figure that he looked harder, trying to discern what was wrong about this person. And then he saw, saw the extra pair of arms, the strangely humped and misshapen body that spoke of a monster.

A creature of magic, something which he would prefer not to kill, since if he could convert them to the true faith, every one of them would be invaluable. He gave a genuine smile when he thought about the effect they would have on the unbelievers.

After patiently waiting for many more minutes, he decided that there were no other guards. "Foolish." he thought to himself. "These people are overconfident to the point of idiocy. Even at my age, it should be no trouble getting past their defences."

He smiled, a smile which held no mirth at all, and uncurled from his position. Moving with all the stealth he could, he darted towards the wall of the village out of the direct sight of the monster. The wall wasn't seriously meant to keep humans out by itself, and he easily scaled the wood and dropped with a thump to the other side. Quickly looking around to make sure that he wasn't detected, he dodged into the shadow of tent, and then slipped towards the center of the village, thinking that it would be there that he would most likely learn where Lyrix was.

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

The cheerful light of a lamp flickered in the center of a hut. Four people sat in a circle around it: Katrina, her husband Duane, Gogo, and Lyrix.

"So you see," Gogo was saying, "we had no choice. There was no shelter out there on the Veldt; we couldn't just sit around waiting, and we didn't know _where_ to go, so we just set out in any old direction. I guess you could call it blind luck that we stumbled on your little village here. Isn't that right, Lyrix?" she said with a shrug and a deprecating laugh, and then peered slyly at Lyrix. He stared stonily back at her, his face an unreadable mask, not saying anything.

"Come on, Lyrix, you can talk here, you know. They're not going to jump on you for expressing an original thought like they did back at your 'chapter'." She said the last sarcastically, prompting a confused look from Lyrix which quickly turned stony again. He grunted a vague assent, and then added, "I am quite content to listen, mimic. Surely you are able to tell the story by yourself. You certainly aren't in danger of running out of words - you had more than enough to say to me as we walked this 'Veldt'."

Unsure whether he was jesting or not, Gogo didn't answer. The awkward silence was suddnely broken by the sound of stumbling footsteps coming from the room next to them, and in a second a small face peered out from behind the sheet which filled the doorframe.

"Hewwo mummy," came the childish voice, "I couldn't sleep." He blinked innocently at them, and then ambled forwards, his steps the careful ones of those who either are drunk, or have just learned how to walk. Katrina stared at him in exasperation for a moment, and then gave in to his cheeky smile and said, "Oh, alright. Come over here then," and patted her lap.

Ignoring the pointed invitation, the toddler wandered over to where Lyrix sat and dropped onto his legs. Wincing slightly at the sudden weight, Lyrix looked across at Katrina, his face clearly saying 'What do I do? Help me, please'. The toddler reached up to fiddle with Lyrix's skull medallion that hung from his neck, turning it this way and that and admiring the way it caught the light and seemed to suck it in some times, and at others reflect it in a shimmer across the surface.

Gently, Lyrix untangled the medallion and shifted it so that it rested under his black shirt, away from prying fingers. The toddler promptly flung his arms around Lyrix's neck and squeezed him tightly. The startled look on Lyrix's face caused Gogo to laugh, which she quickly turned into a snort when she met Lyrix's suddenly icy glare.

Katrina smiled gently and said, "I think he likes you, Lyrix." Lyrix flashed an uncertain smile, not knowing what to do.

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

Moving quietly though the dark, a gleam of light from a crack in a wall caught Shamel's eye, and he moved cautiously towards it. Soon he could hear quiet voices, which suddenly borke off, interrupted by another. Swiftly, he stepped over to the crack and pressed his eye to it, just in time to see a young child give Lyrix a hug. This was where he wanted to be, where he knew what Lyrix was doing, so he could wait until he was unprepared, and then take him.

He waited there for half an hour, patiently listening to the chatter going on within, until a word caught his ear. "Temple?" he thought. "These people have a temple here? Probably to some pagan god. This I had better look into. His wish to bring these people to the true path momentarily overtook his wish to see Lyrix punished. After all, Lyrix wouldn't be going anywhere; surely he could slip off and check this "temple" out.

It wasn't hard to find it; it was the largest structure in the village, and not far away. Softly easing the door open, he slipped inside and peered around. It was extremely dark, but he could see the faint shadows of benches, and up the other end was a t able of sorts, which a small lump on it. He began to walk towards it. "Why would they have so many benches?" he wondered as he wound his way though the numerous seats. "There weren't many humans in the villlage; the ones with Lyrix -" A scowl settled on his face. "- were the only ones I've seen. The rest were monsters."

And then sudden understanding overtook him. These... these "people" were teaching the monsters in a false religion! A shudder overtook him at the thought that anyone could even contemplate such an abomination. These creatures were being sorely mislead, he had no doubt about that. That this temple existed at all was sickening to one of the true faith.

Hurriedly backing away from the altar, for there was no doubt that was what it was, revulsion filling him with righteous anger, he tripped over a bench behind him. It fell over with a clatter, and a moment later a voice went, "Lerzsh a thu?". Staring wildly around him, he saw a shadow detatch itself from the wall and show itself to be a guard he had missed, a monster sleeping in the shadows of the temple.

Drawing a dagger, Shamel moved towards the creature, meaning to silence it quickly, before it roused anyone. However, it must have seen the glint of the blade, and it roared out a warning at the top of its voice. Answering voices came sleepily from all around, and he knew he would have to leave now. He cursed as he backed away, and then an inspriation struck him. He might have to go, but he would destroy this foul temple, leaving the village ready for HIS priests to come and cleanse.

He reached a hand into his robe, and then withdrew a small vial. Throwing it at the wall with one hand, he reached behind him for the door with the other. The vial hit the wall and shattered, and immediately the wall burst into flames, flames which quickly spread. He slipped out the door and away into the shelter of darkness. Now that he had time to think, he knew he had made a mistake. He should have left quietly; now Lyrix would be on his guard.

He wouldn't be able to get near him for some time. He cursed himself for a fool, and then gave a start as he heard human voices coming from a nearby hut.

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

The lamp was turned down low, now, as the four sat around the lamp, with the toddler curled up in Lyrix's arms. Their conversation had turned to other things besides their past; now it was just the amiable talk of friends, although Lyrix still stayed quiet, rarely speaking. However, he seemed more relaxed, more at ease than he had in any of the short time Gogo had known him.

The child in Lyrix's lap made him uncomfortable, yet at the same time, he felt a warm glow inside. It was a feeling he didn't understand, and so it, too, made him uncomfortable. Suddenly, a shout broke the silence. He glanced up immediately, every sense alert, his face going blank again, and he opened his mouth to speak, but Gogo beat him to it. "What is it?" she asked Katrina.

"Someone's in trouble." The cry for help came again, and Katrina cried, "I think it's coming from the temple!" She stood up quickly, as did Duane. It went quiet outside for a moment, and then more cries came, and this time Katrina's face went pale. "The temple's on fire! Oh, gods. How could this happen?" She rushed down the rope ladder, Duane close behind. Lyrix looked at Gogo, and they each knew what the other was thinking. They had to help.

Gogo scrambled after the other two, while Lyrix carefully moved the child off his lap, and then followed. He found Duane talking wildly to Katrina at the bottom of the rope ladder, with Gogo standing by, not sure what to do.

"You've got to stay here, " Duane was saying. "If the children wake up, they could cause a real problem getting in the way! They won't understand what is happening. They'll need you here to look after them." His hands were waving wildly around in the air as he spoke, punctuating everything he said with a handwave. Katrina nodded slowly, and Duane ran off towards the temple, Lyrix and Gogo close behind. Lyrix was alert, but he didn't notice the figure shadowed by nearby huts any more than Gogo or Duane did.

Katrina stared at the flaming temple and her heart sank. It was too far gone; there was no way they could save it, she knew. Sadly, she turned back to the rope ladder, in time to see her son coming down the ladder, his back to her.

She quickly caught him, and then turned him around to face her. "And where do you think you're going, son?" she asked quietly.

"Want to go with man!" was the determined reply.

Katrina looked back at the temple. She could see figures darting here and there, her husband in the middle, trying to organise the monsters into a firefighting team. She sighed. "You can't," she answered.

"Will." came the sullen voice of her son.

"No!" her tone was sharper now, "You can't go with Lyrix."

Suddenly, she sensed a presence next to her. She turned in startlement, not having heard anyone approaching. A dark figure was next to her, his hand already at her throat. She felt a little pressure, and then the world started to fade away, replaced by darkness. She remained conscious long enough to hear a voice say by her ear, "No, he won't go to Lyrix. Lyrix will come to ME!"

A firm grip pulled her son from her, and she tried to say, "No, you can't!" but the world faded away too fast, and she slumped, alone, to the ground.

The fires of the night had spread to the rest of the town, but not beyond the protective walls - a hasty bucket brigade to the nearby watering hole, assembled from a motley collection of monsters, was able to subdue the roaring flames. Still, many of the monsters were, as they had been before the town was built, homeless.

"And it only lasted twenty days!" Katrina was sobbing. She and her husband, Duane, had constructed the town as a new home for the abandoned Moblizan children. The monsters had come only days afterward, prompting the creation of the Temple of Espers, where Duane and Katrina educated the monsters to be contributing members of society. Fortunately, they had learned well.

"Thadkarrh dai plakara!" swore Khalrach, the town guard. "Ixnadra pa odokraffan antholubrakkix!"

"What's he saying?" inquired Lyrix.

Duane translated. "He's suggeesting a plan to the other mosnters. Says he saw Shamel escape - to the north. Wait, there's more. He wants all of us - all the monsters, us two, you two, and the children - to follow him. Maybe we can put an end to this once and for all."

Gogo chimed in. "And it's to the north. That's where I was headed anyway!"

Lyrix grinned. "I believe it's decided. To the north. I shall lead. Come!"

Khalrach growled, and muttered something in the strange language, which prompted a response, in unison, from the other monsters.

"What's he saying?"

"That it isn't fair for you to lead. He says that since it was his idea, he should lead. The other monsters were agreeing with him." To emphasize his point, the nine-foot tall four-armed sword-wielding giant glowered at Lyrix and grinned.

"Hmph. All right. I guess he knows the territory better than I do, too..."

********

The group reached the northern channel by noon two days later. Shamel was nowhere in sight.

Katrina brought up a good point: "He can't have gotten much farther than the Dinosaur Forest. Either that, or we missed him."

Duane responded, "No, these monsters are experts at following trails. He headed this way, and crossed the channel."

"How? It must be at least ten feet deep -"

"He probably swam. Not too far across, by my estimation."

Lyrix complained, "I can't swim!" This prompted a large number of stares - more stares, in fact, than there were individuals looking at Lyrix. "I mean, I can swim, but not with my armor on - it would sink me to the bottom!"

"Don't you still have that fabric swatch I gave you? The air-filtering one?" Gogo gave Lyrix a questioning look.

"I think I left it back in Veldtamba."

"Well, that was my only one! I left mine too, and now I, too, feel pretty stupid for doing so. With all these layers of cloth, I can't swim, either - they would soak up water like a giant sponge, and weight me down so much that it would be impossible for me to swim."

Katrina approached the duo. "The monsters are complaining, too. The ones that fly could go across, but Khalrach has ordered them to stay behind him, and I'm not going to be the one to suggest superior tactics to a monster. Wait, here he comes."

"Gabralch pel doriakkan plarmahal?"

"He's asking if we have any good ideas."

Lyrix spoke up. "Get a single flyer across, and see where Shamel's tracks lead."

Katrina translated. "He says he'll do that." Soon, a single Wyvern was winging its way across, seemingly effortlessly. It sniffed the ground, looked around curiously, and proceeded to follow Shamel's tracks - they curved almost immediately to the west.

"Huh. Interesting. Say, Duane, how far across is that channel?"

"Hm? Katrina, did you say something?"

"I asked you how far across you thought the channel was."

"Oh. I'd say about thirty, forty feet. Why?"

Katrina smiled. "Let's build a bridge."

"Katrina, you've lost your mind. With what?"

Katrina's response was a sweep of her hand in the general direction of the small squadron of monsters. She called Khalrach over, and explained the plan. He seemed slightly bothered, but soon called the more serpentine monsters over, and ordered a bridge built. In a matter of minutes, there was a line of bodies extending from one end of the channel to the other.

"Who's first?"

**********

It was late afternoon by the time they arrived at the hole. Shamel's tracks led directly into it. The diameter of the hole was such that only a few of the smaller humanoid monsters could fit through (Khalrach was just small enough; most of the monsters were larger than he was), as well as the four humans. The party that ended up in the hole was arranged with Khalrach and Lyrix in front, Gogo, Duane and Katrina in the middle, and two additional monsters bringing up the rear: Lekka, a mottled brown Beakor, and Shamalsh, a Mesosaur. For hours, the party wound their way through tunnels and passages and past a small waterfall, which they camped at during the night. Around the campfire, the group members exchanged conversation about the next day's plans. Katrina was first.

"Khalrach says that he and the other monsters have picked up on - get this - three additional scents. They aren't as strong, which means Shamel is following them. We do not know who they can be. Perhaps they are other members of your order?"

"Not possible. They would have doubled back, looking for me. They're probably just harmless strangers."

Their conversation was interrupted by the approach of a small pack of Revenants and Zombies - and they looked hungry.

Another roar from Khalrach, this one of triumph. Two zombies lay impaled on two of his swords, and the others were encrusted with the greenish pus that passed for blood in the undead. Another pass through, more blows from Lyrix and Gogo, and soon the zombies were done for.

Khalrach went off to search for food, and the rest of the party began a small campfire in the tunnel. Soon, the day would be over, and the pursuit could begin anew.

******

"I don't care what you say, Lyrix, I refuse to believe that death is salvation. You're such a pessimist."

"It is you who have your head in the clouds. Look around, and you will see that death is everywhere. Why not embrace it?"

Lyrix and Katarin were having another philosophical argument. These had been going on for the past day, ever since they left the remains of the village for the north, ever since Katarin had been revived with the native herbs. The noise woke Duane, Gogo, and Khalrach up, none of whom were very pleased. They had all been having such a good night's rest.

Then Duane noticed something - the two smaller monsters were gone.

"Hey, guys, where'd those two go?" Everyone looked around, except for Khalrach, who simply stared downward, an embarrased look on his face. Quietly, he spoke.

"Ya cobramha poalaagh xarthash."

"He says we ate them for dinner last night," translated Duane.

"I wondered what Khalrach might have found in a dark tunnel that could have passed for food. At least they tasted like chicken..." commented Gogo.

Lyrix stood up. "Come! Shamel awaits." He paused. "Then again, maybe not." Another pause. Nice dramatic effect, thought Lyrix. "He was chasing me, and now we're chasing him? If we catch up, I will no doubt be brought to justice at his hands - we would only be playing to what he wants. I propose we explore that side tunnel."

"What side tunnel?", the others asked in unison.

"The one Khalrach said he found when he was out getting food. Behind the waterfall." Gogo smiled. "He said it led north, then branched into a larger tunnel leading east and west. Shall we?"

Duane responded. "Let Shamel sidetrack himself while we duck down a side tunnel? Cute idea. Let's go."

**********

The trek down the side tunnel (to the east) was, surprisingly, free of any wandering monsters. In fact, the tunnel's walls seemed smooth and round, and quite unnatural. The floor seemed to be roughtly textured, with metal rails along the side and wooden slats in between.

"Anyone else have the feeling that this isn't what it looks like?" Katarin inquired. No one would have heard a response, had there been any. There was a thunderous noise heading down the tunnel, accompanied by whistling tooting noises and a bright light. The whatever-it-was was bearing down on the five of them at a much faster pace than any of them could run.

There were, fortunately, enough rough handholds in the wall to climb on. Khalrach clutched Katarin in his lower two arms, and joined the other three on the wall. The light soon arrived, and the combination of ear-shatteringly loud noise, blinding light, and steady vibration caused the five to tumble from their perches to land on the thing. After they regained consciousness, they realized just what the thing was.

A train.

"Speak for yourself. Oof." Lyrix was in obvious pain, after having been landed on by Khalrach.

Suddenly, there was a noise, as if the great machine were trying to speak. "Whoooooooo..." A pause. "aaaaaaaaaarrreeeee......." Another. "Yooooooouuuuuuu......?"

Uh-oh. The door to the engineer's compartment opened, and a man -- no, men weren't generally semi-transparent -- a spirit stepped out.

"You do not look like you belong here. Your names, at any rate, were not on the list for tonight's delivery. Unfortunately, our course is set. You must stay with us until the end of the journey, and I'll see what I can do about getting you back, although I wouldn't count on it. The Train is notorious about efficiency, and tries its hardest to keep on schedule. While you're here, you might as well relax - the journey'll take another few hours. Go get a meal or something in the dining car, and when we arrive, talk to me." He spoke with authority and finality, and the group decided that that wouldn't be such a bad idea - their most recent meal had been less than satisfactory.

********

"Please wait at the table. Party of five? Very good. Here are your menus..." A white sheet draped over an invisible body handed out exquisitely printed menus. <Nice work,> thought Gogo, <The dead must at least be comfortable here.> The ghostly waiter took orders, somehow comprehending Khalrach's roars and grunts perfectly. In a matter of seconds, the food was delivered, prepared perfectly, and no one was even the slightest bit skeptical about its quality.

********

The following morning (the five had found a small sleeping car adjacent to the engine), they came to a halt. The conductor came to them, with perfect precision, at 8:00.

"Well, we're here. Let's see what we can do." The five started to follow, but were stopped by the conductor's hand. "No. Leave your bodies here. Only the soul may experience the city of the dead."

"How?"

The conductor simply reached out and grabbed what should have been Duane's chest, but his hand passed through, and pulled out a nebulous white-sheeted being. Duane's body fell limp to the floor. The spirit spoke.

"Don't worry, it's not that bad. Let's just get this over with, shall we?"

The others were similarly drawn out, even Khalrach, and they followed the conductor into the offices of the station.

The land of the dead, they noticed, was very much like the land of the living, just with white sheets where people should be. A sprawling city had sprung up around the train depot, bustling with spirits. They entered a large office, complete with a large swivel chair behind a huge desk, its front towards the far wall. It abruptly spun around, revealing a skeleton in a black robe: the perfect likeness of the Grim Reaper. "Yes, what is it? Who are these? Are they on the list?" Death's voice sounded perfectly sepulchral.

"No, sir. That's why I need your authorization to return them."

Death remained cool. "And how did they get here if they weren't on the list?"

"Ask them."

Lyrix answered. "We stumbled upon the tunnel. Please, if you must let us return, at least let me stay for a little while. Until I feel like coming back."

"In other words, you want me to keep your soul here for some unspecified amount of time, until you choose to return? Where will your body be?"

"I know just the place. Do you remember a girl named Daryl? Airship accident, about two years ago?"

The answer came as a surprise to almost everyone: "Daryl? She's not dead, you fool, she's standing right there beside you!"

"Then why does she have a tomb?"

"Daryl has a TOMB? To what end? A tomb's no good if there's no one buried in it!" Death was beginning to lose his cool. "You!" He pointed at Gogo. "You're Daryl, aren't you?"

"Um... I don't know. I honestly can't remember a thing past - oh, around two years ago. I know for a fact, though, that my name's not Gogo. I just chose that because it sounded neat."

"I see. Conductor, escort these three --" Death pointed at Duane, Katarin, and Khalrach "-- back to their bodies. You, the one who wished to remain here for a time --"

"My name is Lyrix."

"Very well. Lyrix, you may stay. I cannot guarantee your safe return, however."

"I understand completely."

"You may leave now." He did so, and was soon lost among the crowds of the dead. "Now, as for you, Daryl..." Death pulled out a crystal ball from beneath his desk. "Look closely, and you will know the truth. Your memory will heal. Look and you will see..."