Chapter 22: The Twenty-second Chapter
                  -------------------------------------

        If ever there was a record set for the farthest-flying glob of
snot, it had just been broken.  The man at the far end of the cafe wiped
the offending glob from his freshly-gooey head.  Several people got up to
leave.  "Excuse be..."  Kraken said, wiping his nose.
        "You poor sick thing..." Tiamat said pitiously.  She quietly
sipped her cup of coffee, recently turned cold.  "Check please..." she
said, making a face.
        "Ugh..." Kraken said miserably.  "Well, we'd bedder ged back to
work.  Da towd still deeds rebairs."  He rose weekly, coughing a bit.
        "Are you sure you'll be okay?" Tiamat asked with concern.  "I
mean, working so much when you're so sick..."
        "I'll be fide," he replied defiantly.  "Id's just a liddle code,
dat's all..."  Stumbling a little, he made his way to the door.
        "A what?"  Tiamat asked, confused.
        "You doew, a code..."  Kraken clarified.  Tiamat only giggled in
response.  Kraken glared good-humoredly, and walked into the open streets
of Jidoor.
                                 *  *  *
        Not far away, Kary was making herself useful by hefting large
beams to replace a ceiling that had been crushed during the Imperial
attacks.  Though a number of men were having a hard time lifting a single
fallen beam, she carried one with each arm, whistling as she skipped
along.  It was such a beautiful day out, and now that the Imperials were
gone, all seemed right.  All except the missed presence of Garland.  At
the thought of her cute one being far away, and not around to cheer her
up, Kary dropped the two beams and sat a while to pout.
        "What's wrong with you, sugar?" a Returner inquired.  He was a
silly looking youth, very lucky to have survived the attack.
        "Nothing that concerns you, flour," Kary replied spunkily.  Now
was not the time to flirt.
        The youth seemed to think he was making headway.  He was wrong,
but that's why he was still called a youth instead of a young man.  He
thought for a moment about how he could show off to this delicate young
lady.  While he was thinking, the monstrous form of Lich materialized out
of the unseen fog of the netherworld.  However, he seemed a bit different
than usual. His death's head was partially concealed by folds of robe,
apparently tucked under his ceremonial helm.  He also wore gloves of some
sort, perhaps to hide his skeletal hands.  All in all, he was still as
formidable, if not more.
        The youth noticed the presence behind him, and turned to see who
it was.  When he beheld the form of the Undead lord, he nearly fainted. 
"Don't be frightened," Lich uttered ominously.  He slowly shrunk back down
to his more acceptable human form.  "Is this better?" he rasped.  The boy
nodded dumbly, though Lich was still quite ghastly.  
        The youth decided to pay no more attention to this bony
interloper.  Drawing his sword, he twirled it deftly around a finger, in a
desperate attempt to impress the fiery-haired beauty before him.  "How do
you like my sword?"  he began.  "It's a... Mithril blade!"  He tried to
wear his most dashing smile, which was pretty pitiful.
        "Wow," Lich said, looking over the youth's shoulder with mock
interest.  "That's one Mithril blade!" He finished frankly.  Kary giggled.
        "Mithril's not an adjective!" The youth piped back.  This cadaver
cadet was getting on his nerves.
        "Yeah?" Lich retorted in an in-your-face manner that was quite in
the youth's face.  "Well, if it's not, what is it?"  If there was one
thing Lich loved, besides being ominous, it was getting in someone's face.
        "It's a..." the youth started.  'What kinda word is Mithril,
anyway?' he thought.  "It's a... a noun, yeah, that's it, a noun!"
        "Noun?!"  Lich fired back.  "If it's a noun, then-"  Lich stopped
abruptly, and his head snapped down sharply.  "A BUG!"  Lich screamed
hoarsely, referring to a small beetle plodding across a patch of dirt. 
The youth was taken quite by surprise when Lich raised his fist, and
slammed it down upon the ground where the insect stood.  At the impact,
the ground actually visibly shook in a radius of ten feet.  The youth fell
to his knees.  Lich raised his fist to eye level, and exclaimed joyfully,
"GOT HIM!"  His gloved fist was stained with beetle juice.
        "I..." the youth began.  "I hope you w-wash your hands b-before
you eat anyth-thing..."
        Lich's head snapped up, and he looked the youth straight in the
face, his eyes unintentionally flaring up.  "Eat?" he said, as the boy
fainted.
        "My hero!"  Kary said, as she gave Lich a hug.  Lich shrugged in
response.  "Now then, wanna help me lug these beams over there?"  Lich
looked reluctant.  "Just think!" she urged.  "If you find any bugs, you
could really smash 'em with one of these!"
        "ALL RIGHT!" Lich said, as he lifted a beam with great effort. 
Stumbling and unsteady, he carefully followed Kary to the spot where beams
were to be put.
                                 *  *  *
        "Whew, this paint sure smells bad..." Tiamat commented as she gave
a wall another coat.
        "I cad't sbell a thig," Kraken replied through a stuffy nose and
sore throat.  He had tried to purge the offending filth from his systems,
but it seemed he might just have to wait it out.  Looking around, Kraken
noticed a man in a trench coat lying around doing nothing.  "Hbph!" he
snorted.  "Slackers..."  He purposefully strode over to the man, who was
apparently sleeping.  Upon closer inspection, he found it to be an
entirely different case.  "Kary!  Lich! Tiabat!" he called.  "Cub quick!"
        "Cub quick?" Lich asked.  "What the devil is he yelling about?"
        "Oh, come on!" Kary scolded, taking her cadaver buddy by the hand
and dragging him.
        "What is it?"  Tiamat asked.
        Kraken waited until they had all arrived, then said, "Foud: wud
Sedzer Gabbiadi.  Would da owder please cub ad claib hib?"
                                 *  *  *
        "Sascha?"  Garland called out.  he had been wandering the Doman
halls for what seemed like hours.  "Sascha, I'm lost!" he whined.  "Why
can't more people who know where they're going wander around this place?" 
He leaned against a wall, and sighed loudly.  'What could be worse than
being lost in these halls alone?'  he thought.
        "...Being lost together," a familiar voice answered.
        'That's funny...' Garland thought.  'I didn't say that out
loud...'
        "No, but I heard it..." this time, the voice was followed by a
small chuckle.
        "Mason!" Garland exclaimed with woe.
        "I heard it, too..." a less familiar voice said.  Garland whirled
around to find himself face to face with an unexpected listener.
        "Rokeg Kromm!?" Garland uttered in surprise and alarm.  'This is
all I need...'
        "Actually, it is..." Kromm replied.
        "Would you stop reading my thoughts?!"  Garland shouted.  "It's
very annoying!"
        "I'm sorry," Mason said mockingly.  "But you'll have to register
your complaint in the form of a thought." Garland complied, and thought
about what he had just said.  Mason thought for a while, and Rokeg
grinned.
        "Nope," they replied simultaneously.
        "Seriously, though..." Rokeg began, approaching Garland.  "We
were sent to find you.  Lady DelAubre is looking for you..."
        "I'm not allowed to hurt you, Sascha's orders..." Mason said
bitterly.  "Come on, I haven't got all day!"
        "Oh, you poor thing..." Kromm oozed.  "Poor, poor Mason has to
refrain from phisical violence.  Heavens NO!"
        "THAT'S COMMANDER MASON TO YOU, KROMM!" Mason fired back.  Kromm
was enjoying this quite a lot.  So was Garland. "So, Garland..." the short
man began.  "Had a bit of trouble negotiating a simple hallway, did you?"
        "Not that much," Garland replied, falling slightly behind his puny
nemesis.  "...How's your face feeling?"
        Mason froze in his tracks.  Quivering with anger, he reached up to
touch the scars on his face, and also the scars in his mind.  Twitching,
he began walking again.  "Oh, it's... fine..." he replied with great
difficulty.
        "Amazing self-control, friend..." Kromm began.  "I wouldn't be
able to take it.  I'd rip his lungs out, if I were you.  Well, you plus
two feet..."
        Mason stopped again.  This was too much.  "A man..." he began, his
voice quivering.  Garland prepared for a fight.  "A man can only take...
so much..."  Much to the other two men's surprise, he began walking slowly
away, back turned.  He didn't make it four steps before he ran.
        Garland watched Mason run down the hall, cape trailing.  Feeling a
bit guilty, he looked at his feet before shooting a venomous glare at
Rokeg Kromm.  Kromm looked ahead.  "I can't help feeling as though I'm
partially to blame," he said, shaking his head.  Garland just shook his
head.
        Mason ran, and ran, and ran.  Tears streamed down his face, along
with shame.  Rounding a corner, he nearly ran into none other than Lady
DelAubre and Lord Akfek!  "Mason!" Sascha exclaimed.  "What's wrong?"
        Mason thought carefully about what he should say.  It was unseemly
for a soldier to cry, especially in front of his Lord and Lady. 
"N...nothing," he began, straightening his cape and posture.  "J-just a
little... allergy.  That's all."
        "Mason?" Akfek asked.  "Have you been crying?"
        "M-me?" Mason replied uneasily.  He sniffed, and wiped a tear from
his eye.  "No.  Definitely not!"
        "If you ever come to me crying again, do not expect sympathy,"
Akfek replied.  Mason realized his cover was blown.  "It's unseemly for my
soldiers to cry. If you ever do it again, there could be dire
consequences.  What makes you bawl so?"
        "Well, Kromm, and Gar-" Mason began, but was interrupted by
Sascha.
        "We'll discuss it later." Sascha interrupted.  "Did you find
Garland?"
        To answer her question, Garland and Rokeg rounded the corner. 
"My Lady..." Rokeg said, prostrating himself with a splendid gesture.
        "Hey darling," Garland said, putting his arms around his ladylove.
        "...and who might YOU be?"  Akfek said bitterly.
        Garland extended his hand for a hearty handshake.  "The name's
Garland. And you are...?"
        Akfek refused the hand with disgust.  His countenance darkened,
and his eyes seemed to glow with a fierce distrust.  A forced smile curled
about his thin lips.  "Lord High Emperor Akfek, of the New Imperial
Nation.  The pleasure is all mine..."
        It was going to be a dark and stormy night...