Disclaimer: All the characters from D. and the manga/anime itself belong to Yukiru Sugisaki. I am in no way taking credit for anything she has created, nor am I gaining profit in any way from writing this fanfiction story. Thank you very much.

Chapter Three is Dedicated to: My wonderful big sister, who is to go off to college in another week.

Soaring on Broken WingsPart One: CapturedChapter 3: Eternal Bonds

The lady Urami had always been beautiful; her fair, straight hair, her winter pale skin, her serenely curving lips, her rich mulberry eyes neither dull nor bright—everything about her seemed to radiate an immense beauty. Even her actions, no matter how unnatural, appeared graceful to all.

However, her magnificence did not end there. Always was she calm, never rash in her decisions, and always did she put her duties to her country before her emotions at the expense of even her own family. The people revered her and loved her, strewing her with praises of awe that rivaled even the worship the gods beheld. In fact, because of her mortality, the lady Urami was all the more beloved to the people of the realm.

There was no inkling of doubt that to Syr, she was the pefect ruler—levelheaded, strong, and firmly tied to the ways.

But now, now as the lady reclined in a chair draped luxuriantly in folds of mournful black, that flawless image began to crack. With her fiery hair, wild and curled, rippling defiantly down her back and a malicious smirk cruelly twisting her once gently curved lips, she was no ruler of Syr. Instead she was a woman whose scheming eyes glittered with a newfound light: the mad light of vengeance.

To Riku, who had grown to love the lady as both mother and ruler, the sudden change was terrifying. It rendered her speechless as the said woman abruptly stood up from her seat, and effortlessly glided towards her destination, for even though the woman had shed her title as Lady, still she retained that same innate grace that had enthralled the people of Syr.

"Well, what say you, my child?" the lady purred, delicately fingering a white silk robe sprinkled with flowers. "Have you no words of congratulations to say to your dear sister?"

Riku was jerked violently from her stupor at the sound of the lady's smooth voice. Her words from earlier came floating to memory: Your sister is to be married to a man from another country in the next week…

Instantly she became enraged and protective, recalling her sister, pale and drained of life, staring dully out the window. "Risa isn't even fourteen yet!" Riku exploded, hands clenched at her sides. "She is much too young to marry! I won't consent to it."

"And who are you to decide when or when not she is ready to be married?" snapped the lady, furious. Even from across the room her mother seemed to tower above her, massive as a giant. "I will not tolerate such foolish behavior around me; remember that you are in the presence of your mother and ruler, not some idiot of a girl you can order around." Then her lips curled darkly in a feral smile, and Riku knew immediately that she had been dreadfully unwise in choosing her words.

"But perhaps you are right, my dear, precious child," the lady said indulgently, stroking the flowers splattered on the gown, crimson like the color of blood in the flickering ring of light cast forth from the single smoking candle lit in the room. "It would be unseemly of me to present my daughter so young and unripe to their only son, who is already a grown man, so I've heard. No, it would be better to wait, say, four moons from now, on the midwinter solstice."

Appalled, Riku exclaimed, "But that would mean she would marry on the day of her fourteenth birthday!"

"Precisely," said the lady mockingly. "I'm glad to know that one of my children has some wits about her. But," the lady smiled lazily, eyes half-lidded, "you'll be needing all those wits about you when it comes to what you will have to be doing."

"Me, Mother?" Riku was beginning to wish that she were thousands of miles away from this place, away from this terrifying demon of a woman whom she was forced to call "Mother".

The lady shifted her glittering gaze on her form, amused. "Of course, child—did you think you would not be punished for the crime you have committed?" Then all traces of her smile disappeared, and her voice was deathly serious, though the mad light in her eyes did not fade.

"I have told you before, Riku, that you are to accompany Risa on her wedding—this will not change. However, it will not be for the pleasure of being sister to the bride. Oh no, far from it. I have for you a mission that if you fail, I will personally slit your throat and hang you in the middle of the village for all to see." Riku's face drained of color; she knew without a doubt that, looking square into her mulberry depths, her mother would indeed do such a deed without a moment's hesitation.

"Your mission," continued her mother, coolly, "is quite simple, really: retrieve the portrait that was stolen."

"But," Riku said, swallowing thickly, asking the question the lady knew she would ask, "How would I retrieve it?"

"Ah, now that will be the fun part," said the lady, that cruel smirk beginning to tug at the corners of her mouth once more. "You see, in order for the family to never suspect a thing from you, you must first earn their trust. Whatever methods you use to obtain that trust I care not—only that you do.

"Then, it will only be a matter of loosening one's tongue. Your sister will presumably be most suited for this job, for after all she is to be the man's wife and it is only natural that she would be curious about the layout of the household. Once the information is leaked to her, she will pass it onto you, and you will carry out your mission. Alone.

"When you accomplish what you set out for—and I expect it to be done before the wedding—you and your sister will lure him to this island, saying that you wish only for him to meet his wife's dear mother. And meet her he will," the lady cackled shrilly, pupils dilating, "But it will not be the girl's wife he faces but the lady of Syr! I as Lady will bestow upon him the punishment he rightfully deserves for his treacherous thievery: a slow, torturous death that will make him beg for the merciful release of a slit of a dagger."

There was a long, revolted silence that crawled for minutes upon minutes in which Riku neither moved nor spoke. Then she shattered the silence, saying disgustedly, "I nor Risa will go along with your filthy plan, Mother. I will retrieve the portrait as you wish, for there I am to blame, but I certainly will not play this man straight into your hands. I do not even know who this man is, or what the portrait you speak so highly of is, for that matter."

"What the portrait is is of no concern of yours," clipped the lady as she gripped a smooth sleeve of the silken robe. "Only that it is ours and can be proven by the initials of my name etched on the back of the canvas. As for the man your sister is to be engaged to," the lady arched a dark, elegant eyebrow, the tension eased from her as quickly as the sleeve was smoothed of rumples by a long pale hand, "I suppose it wouldn't hurt for you to know some things about him, seeing as you'll be the one stealing from him."

Disregarding Riku's narrowed gaze, the lady replied to her previous statement, sighing. "The man's name is Daisuke, Niwa Daisuke if you will. I would have had your sister marry the lord if possible, but the lord is already wedded, and I suppose the lord's only child wouldn't hurt. He comes from a long line of rulers in the city of Cirath, located in the country Cerawyn, which, you should know, is off to the west, if you've keeping up to date with your studies," said her mother, sliding her a side long glance. A ghost of a smile touched the lady's lips, and, for a moment, the uncanny resemblance it bore to the woman at old was so achingly familiar that Riku felt a lump of heartfelt emotion growing within her throat. Then the fleeting smile was wisped away and all that remained was a fine network of lines gathered taunt about a thin, ironically curled mouth.

"How do I know him?" the lady coolly assessed from Riku's look. "Well, let's just say I've had 'problems' with this—" she held up the crest-engraved dagger "—particular family not a while ago. It was irritating to say the least, but in the end it all worked out."

"Anyway," drawled the lady, before Riku could say anything. The lady returned to her former seat, robe still in hand, and Riku saw amusement dancing like the tiny fire flickering above the wax-dripping candle within her mulberry eyes. "How do you propose you will retrieve the portrait, my child, without resorting to my 'filthy plan' in any way? Surely you don't mean to ask for it back?"

Riku paled; she had dwelled no longer on the subject than she had of her mother's tactics of retrieval. She opened her mouth, and closed it, and opened her mouth again, this time muttering in a low voice, "I—I'll think up of something. I'll get it back."

"I certainly hope you won't fail me again though," the lady said, mockingly, and Riku's cheeks burned red in shame and anger. Then she shrugged and said, "Well, do whatever you believe is best. As I have mentioned before, I care not for the details, only that it is returned to me safe and sound."

"Whatever you say, Mother," Riku replied coolly, a note of cold distain creeping into her voice when her mother failed to mention the safety of either of her daughters, whose blood seemed to account for nothing against a rectangular piece of dead wood. Unbeknownst to her, the first rift between mother and daughter was beginning to form.

"If you have no more you wish to say to me, Mother, then I will be taking my leave." When her mother, toying absently with a stray seam that had loosened from the snowy fabric, said nothing in reply, Riku dipped her head stiffly and made to exit the chamber. The lady interrupted her just as she was taking a halting step beyond the narrow doorway, however. Her voice, smooth yet sharp like the edge of a whetted dagger, resonated with a tone that left no room for argument.

"Riku, inform your sister to prepare her things. You yourself will need to pack your things as well. In one week hence, both you and your sister will board a boat bounded for the country Cerawyn. Do not worry about appearing as strangers before the throne—before you depart I will give you a token which will leave no doubts concerning your identity. Also, take this," the lady said, gliding across the room and depositing the crimson-sprinkled robe in Riku's hands. "Proper marriage garments for your sister."

Riku's eyes widened a quarter of a fraction; they slowly trailed down to take in the sight of the white robe. Although she could not see it, Riku had not a trickle of suspicion that her mother was smiling down at her with those glittering eyes.

Riku tried one last time. "Risa should not marry to anyone unless she thinks herself ready or her husband-to-be suitable, which will not happen if that man is a stranger."

"Ready? Ha!" the lady gave a short laugh that held no trace of mirth. "I was hardly fourteen myself when I was shipped off to some man I never knew. At least your sister will be given time to adjust before the marriage; for my wedding I was forced into a gown and thrown into the arms of my husband."

"You didn't even know who Father was before you married?" Surprise made Riku's voice falter.

"Of course not," scoffed her mother. "It was an arranged marriage. Just like Risa's. Only Risa's will serve another purpose—to secure an alliance."

"Secure an alliance?" Now Riku's eyes were wide as saucers. "This isn't just for the portrait?"

"Of course not," repeated the lady, a sharp edge in her voice informing Riku that she was quickly tiring of her questions. "This marriage was already planned out long before you and your sister were born. The portrait only gives me reason to actually carry it out."

Questions whirled like a raging hurricane within her buzzing head. "Wait a minute, Mother. What do you mean by the marriage already being planned out before we were born?"

"Enough!" the lady's voice was as cold and hard as the marble in Riku's bathroom floor. "I tire of this mindless chatting. I give you until the eve of your sister's wedding to retrieve my portrait; that amount of time, ranging more or less between four and four and a half months from now, should be plenty enough to get under the Niwas' skin."

Ice. "I told you I would not go along with your plan, and I intend to keep my word."

"So you say." Riku heard the soft rustle of clothing. "Well, if there is anything you or your sister wish to bring along on your journey that you do not already have, you need only to ask." Although the words seemed kind and thoughtful, the dry voice that spoke them banished all thoughts of compassion from a listener's mind.

Riku smiled thinly. "You are most kind, Mother. However, we will be needing nothing more than what we have in our room." Once again she inclined her head the smallest of fractions. Then, hearing not a whisper, she walked swiftly down the hall. Lining both sides of her vision were walls fashioned of stone, so cleverly created that each stone used was fitted perfectly against the curve of another without the use of any supporting materials. There were no depressions in the walls however to indicate the markings of a door.

Pausing at the end of the corridor, Riku stood listening to the clear voice echoing off the walls. As the words reached her ears, she smiled grimly and continued to thud her way back to the room she shared with her younger sister. The words echoed dully within her head:

"Be careful, Riku."

The crimson-rimmed sun sunk beneath the forest tops, and the soft rose that had mingled lightly with the dark green of leaves gradually dimmed to hushed pink. Overhead indigo seeped slowly into a wind-swept sky studded with brilliant stars—an inverted lush, sweeping field embedded with a myriad of merrily twinkling gems.

The quiet flap of wings, the gentle whisper of air passing through leaves, the occasional hoot of an owl calling out triumphantly as it grappled its prey—the sounds of nature, beautiful and unchanged, soothed Riku's heart even as it eased the wrinkles from her forehead. A sort of serene calm settled over her shoulders, lending her the strength and courage to continue her flow of words.

"…Mother has told me that we are to leave next week. Pack your things and—"

"I'm not going." The words were softly spoken, but they rang out as loudly and clearly as if they had been shouted. Each syllable seemed to fill the room entirely, increasing in volume and force, until the mouth abruptly stopped working, and the words reluctantly died away in the silence of evening.

Riku regarded the sudden change in her sister's manner with startled eyes. No longer was Risa the pale, fragile doll staring lost outside the window. Instead she was a girl whose flushed cheeks heated with life and whose blazing eyes flashed in stubborn determination. Her jaw grew hard and set in defiance while her shoulders rose from their slumped position and squared. Mouth thinned into a grim line, her sister was every bit as intimidating as a fully armored knight riding out to war intent on living and returning to his loved ones.

Squeezing her eyes shut and opening them again, Riku forced her next words out. "If you have anything you wish to say, Risa, say it to Mother, not me. I couldn't do anything to cancel the engagement—I only managed to succeed in delaying it four months."

"Four months?" spluttered Risa, shocked. Her stricken eyes collided with Riku's—and suddenly, Riku felt like breaking down and weeping right then and there. "How…how could you, Riku?" Risa breathed. The betrayal and pain swimming in Risa's dark brown eyes lanced straight through her own heart like no spear could ever do. "How could you prolong my suffering, Riku? How could you when waiting even one week was horrible enough?"

"I thought—I thought that maybe…maybe if I delayed your wedding," Riku, voice choked, fumbled for words, "you would get to know the person better and be happier when you married."

"But what if I don't like this person?" Risa's eyes grew bitter and cold; ice was beginning to solidify within her brown depths, slowly freezing what little warmth remained of her love for her. "Then I would have to live through four months of hell wouldn't I?" Riku winced, as if struck, as her sister barked a harsh, short laugh completely devoid of mirth.

Her legs could no longer support her. Sliding limply to the cold stone floor, Riku squeezed her eyes shut and whispered, pained, "Oh, Risa, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean…I never realized…I'm so sorry, Risa…" She trailed off chokingly, no longer able to finish.

There was an agonizing silence that lingered for minutes, as deafening as the roar of foaming water crashing upon sand and jagged rock. Then Risa let out a strangled cry and threw her arms round Riku's shoulders, startling her pale eyes open. With a shaky gasp filled with so much relief that Risa actually began to weep, Riku crushed her sister fiercely against her chest and whispered above the top of her head apologies over and over again. At that single moment, nothing could describe the love in which Riku felt for her little sister; it seeped through every fiber of her body and tingled with a warmth that left Riku breathless and dizzy.

Eventually Risa raised her head from Riku's shoulder and managed a weak smile. "Sorry Riku. I know it wasn't your fault. All you did was try to help." She then shrugged and sighed longing. Risa had always been able to change her moods fairly quickly, Riku thought, relieved, seeing her melancholy eyes light up with a sparkle. "But who knows? Maybe I'll end up falling in love with this Daisu-whatever-his-name-is. After all, he is the son of a lord who is the ruler of a major country." Swooning the girl indulged in her whimsical fantasies. "Ahhh, I hope that he's really handsome and strong, able to sweep me clean off my feet, yet at the same time being very gentle with me. He'll whisper words of love to me everyday, and kiss me, and we'll always be together, night or day. Oh and it would be even more wonderful if he had a touch of mystery about him, as if he were a thief or something, and he would slip out unseen during the dead of night to steal priceless treasures. Ahhh!" Risa sighed once more, her dreamy eyes faraway. "If only someone like this did exist…"

Riku smiled softly at her little sister; once again her heart burst with that tingling, warm feeling. Just as quickly as Risa had been brought to anger she had forgiven, despite the horrendous weight that Riku had unknowingly deposited upon her. And now, even though a new weight had descended heavily on her slim shoulders, she continued to smile and dream, looking ahead to the future with such optimistic cheer that Riku's cheeks scorched with shame.

Hesitantly, drawing in a deep breath and releasing it with a shudder, Riku asked, breaking the girl from her dazed state, "Risa, will you…will you still go along with the engagement?"

There was a moment's pause before Risa, smiling sadly, replied, "I don't have a choice, do I? Even if I do try to run away or something I can't do it without Mother's permission; she's the only person on this island who has access to anything resembling a boat. I can't make one either, seeing as I don't know how and we aren't allowed to leave the castle for any reason. In the end, I would be forced into marrying this person, whether I wanted to or not.

"But it'll be okay," she said smilingly, instantly brightening, "because I'll have you with me the whole entire time, right Riku?"

There was a quick movement of the arms and Riku, tightly crushing her sister to herself, vowed fiercely, "Always, Risa. Always."

"I'm glad…" sighed Risa. Then she said, jokingly, "Gee, Riku, aren't you hugging me a lot lately?"

No answer.

"…Riku?" She raised her eyes upward, and instantly her mouth dipped as low as a chasm. "Riku, are you…are you…" She could not finish the sentence.

"No I'm not!" Riku flung back hastily and abruptly, scrubbing furiously at her eyes. Quickly she rose and threw herself into the bathing room, stumbling more often than running. The door was slammed behind her with a bang that shook the very objects of the long four-sided room, massive though many of them were. Despite Riku's fervent protest, Risa curiously peered down.

A single, wet substance lay gleaming softly on the cold, stone floor.

Risa smiled and began packing.

"It's so cold!" whined Risa through clattering teeth, clutching at her thin slip of a cloak. "Why couldn't we have gone after the sun rose?"

"Because after the rain from the day before a mist sprung up, and Mother told us to go in the shelter of the mist while we could," Riku reiterated for the third time, looking pointedly at the immensely dense curtain of white draped all around them. She sighed, unclasped her own thick woolen cloak, and offered it to Risa, who promptly snatched it from her hands and wound it tightly about herself.

Glaring at Riku, Risa said sullenly, "Why aren't you cold, Riku? I feel numb and frozen all over while you look perfectly content and warm."

"It's because you're wearing those thin clothes," Riku said dryly. She glanced fleetingly at the garments Risa had specifically chosen for the journey: a light breezy silk dress with a gauzy, shimmering covering floating delicately above. Belted at the waist with a loosely flowing sash and with a mantle, whose density was almost as great as the covering, settled neatly over her shoulders, Risa looked every inch like a lady prepared for a most joyous festival. Unfortunately, they were currently traversing leagues upon leagues of deep ocean, and were just about as far away from civilization as three people who were thrust on the apex of a mountain swathed in numbingly cold clouds could be. Which made Riku wonder at Risa's choice of clothing in the first place. "At least your leather boots are suited for traveling," Riku noted, with some surprise.

"Oh be quiet Riku," grumbled Risa, rubbing her hands together in an effort to obtain heat. "How was I supposed to anticipate that it was going to be this cold? I thought that the sun would have been up by the time I had finished dressing. I didn't think that this—" she shot a hateful glare at the surrounding mist "—would've been here though."

"Can't you change into a different set of clothes?" Riku suggested. Their bags—two Risa's and one hers, although Risa would have brought more if she could—lay tossed in a heap near the rear of the compact boat, built more for speed than for transportation. With the bow, the front part of the boat, curving sharply from the bottom of the vessel up and two long oars dipping into the surface in a swift, steady pattern, the boat was rapidly progressing through the tranquil waters of the Lucidia, the ocean in which all land was surrounded by.

"Can't. Father's here, remember?" said Risa, jabbing a finger at the person, Lord Urwin of Syr, slaving away at the boat. He was a man with keen features: an angular chin, a pointed nose, quick long fingers that darted about the area with always a purpose, a thin set of lips carved into a triangular face of utmost severity. His earth brown eyes, however, betrayed his true emotions as they twinkled merrily from beneath dark eyebrows. Shortly after a wide smile followed, and the tight lines drawn about his mouth softened, miraculously transforming the grim image of the man into one of amazing cheerfulness.

"Don't mind me," said their father, grinning. "Just pretend I'm not here."

"Kind of hard to do when you're staring right at me though," Risa retorted sourly, hurling a sharp glare at the man that bespoke of murder. In reply he flashed her an innocent smile, which only strove to make Risa seethe with an anger that lashed out like a flaming whip against her target, who whistled innocently while still managing to propel the vessel forward with smooth, even strokes. At least, Riku thought smilingly, Risa didn't seem cold anymore; a deep flush had quickly overtaken her slightly blue pallor from earlier.

Gazing out into the surrounding screen of wispy white upon darkened blue, Riku shut out her father and Risa's bickering voices and slowly turned her thoughts inward. Clasped loosely in one of her hands—the other held the gold-hilted dagger—was the token the lady of Syr had given her—a tiny silver ring bearing a miniature copy of the crest of the golden sunset and frosted mountain ringed with trees. The precious stone in which it was set upon was scarcely the size of one of her fingernails, and she marveled at the meticulously fashioned image, precisely drawn down to the last line.

But, once again, the question came to mind: how did her mother come to possess such a thing? She had never had a fondness for jewelry nor the world outside of Syr, for she rarely left even the castle unless for an emergency.

A sudden thought struck her. The thief…the thief she had collided with…how could he have had known exactly when to reach Syr without succumbing to the tides? And the forest? Unless he was born in Syr, there was absolutely no way he could have known that on the four days of the new moon, when the man chose to unexpectedly appear in Syr, the waters relented and grew calm while the forest seemed to enter a state of deep slumber. Those four days alone were the only times when Syr was completely accessible to the outside world, but not a trickle of that knowledge had ever been leaked outside of Syr, for even if the Lady Urami's threats went unheeded, still the people, loving of solitary and quiet life, would not bare the information to strangers, exceedingly rare though they were.

A shipwreck then? No, that couldn't have been. The thief had come with a purpose. It couldn't have been mere coincidence that he'd slipped into the castle, taken exactly what Riku surmised he wanted, and just as easily slipped out, unnoticed save for Riku. And even then their meeting had been a result sprung purely from chance.

So the man was obviously familiar with the surroundings and landscape of Syr. How else could he have taken something from the lady of Syr's chamber without alerting the presence of a guard or servant? Riku's mother had mentioned that she knew the family he belonged to, so could that have possibly meant that she had either met him or one of the other Niwa members before, and informed them of the vulnerability of Syr? But that thought seemed absurd; it was Urami herself who had issued forth a threat for silence. Riku was beginning to feel the first stirrings of a headache.

"Riku?" Risa's voice broke through her thoughts, and Riku turned, if not a little startled, to her sister beside her. "About the thief…are you sure he's from that Niwa family Mother was talking about?"

"What?" Riku attempted to clear the haze from her mind.

"I mean, are you sure that he's not some person working for some other family? Like a mercenary or something?"

"Mercenaries are men or women hired for their weapon skills, Risa," Riku pointed out.

"Okay, so maybe not mercenaries, but some other type of person. Pirates, maybe? I don't know and it doesn't really matter. My point is, what if that thief had been hired by another lord to steal Mother's portrait? Judging from Mother's reaction, that thing must have been pretty valuable, so I'm pretty sure that some greedy lord wouldn't mind getting his hands on it." Risa frowned pensively. "But then again, it's practically impossible to get here without knowing when the tides and forest weaken. And even if you do know those things, it's not an easy thing to slip inside Mother's castle unnoticed." Risa paused, eyes suddenly narrowing. "Wait a minute Riku, how on all of Syr did the thief determine the layout of Mother's castle, and, more importantly, figure out exactly when to search for this place? I don't ever remember seeing a person from another country in Syr before…"

Riku sighed and rubbed her temples. "That's what I've been wondering. I'm no closer to the answer than finding a way to fly though. Well, we're probably just worrying too much about nothing—Mother did say that she was familiar with the family. Maybe they were friends…?"

"Yeah, and friends steal from friends," said Risa sarcastically. At Riku's incredulous look, she turned away and mumbled something under her breath.

"What was that?" Riku asked, suspicion narrowing her pale eyes. When her sister refused to enlighten her, Riku gave up, shrugging. "Anyway, as for what you said earlier, I don't think you'll need to worry about who the thief was, Risa," she reassured the girl. "Remember that crest? Usually crests symbolize the identity of a kingdom—all the more so if found on various objects. Like this dagger and ring for instance—" Riku held them up "—Both have the same exact images engraved in them. That can only mean one thing…"

Risa's long brown hair, tinted slightly with a natural pale red, swished slowly from side to side. "I'm not so sure, Riku. Anybody can create a picture of a sunset and a mountain with trees—even me, and you know that I'm not a great artist."

"But not many people can afford to engrave it in gold or ruby," she told her. "Think about it: gold and jewelry typically belong to the wealthy, and who else is more rich than the ruler of the country himself? Besides, there's no doubt that Mother knows which family this person belongs or relates to, Risa. For some obscure reason, she even had a ring whose insignia matched that of the dagger's perfectly."

"I still don't know…"

"The dagger's hilt was gold, Risa. Pure, solid gold. What do you make of that? For that matter, why do you doubt that the man you are going to marry is the wrong person?"

"Well, for one, it's not I really want to marry him, Riku." Her sister ground out each word, clenching her hands into two white fists and slamming them against her lap. "And for two, the whole reason why I'm marrying him in the first place is because of you, Riku. Mother probably signed my life off to some horrible brute, and for what? A stupid worthless portrait? If you hadn't failed in retrieving the portrait, I wouldn't be here right now, cold, shivering, miserable on this piece of flattened wood drifting around who knows where in the middle of the largest body of water in the entire world."

Riku drew back sharply, shocked and hurt. It felt as if someone had taken a massive hammer and smashed her straight into the hard, grainy floor, like an ant trampled to the ground by the enormous boot of some malicious human. She was aware of a strange prickling at the corner of her eyes, but she shoved the feeling away as quickly as it came, converting her pain into something she knew she could deal with: anger. The white-hot emotion spread from one searing fingertip to the next; soon all she could see were tiny red spots dancing about in her line of vision. It was all Riku could do to refrain from shouting. Instead, she opted for a tone that would have frozen deserts.

"I'm sure you could have done better at the time, Risa," Riku said mockingly, unthinkingly, and the girl visibly flinched. "How was I supposed to have been prepared for something I wasn't suspecting, huh? It's not like I knew what was in the bundle. It could've been something valuable. It could've not been. How—was—I—supposed—to—know?

"Also," she continued her tirade, "You make it seem as if I didn't even try to get the thing back. Well I did, I tried as best I could. You and Mother never even considered that though, did you? All that seemed to be on Mother's mind was 'Oh, she didn't get the portrait, now she'll have to pay for it,' and the same thing seems to be on yours. What about me? Do you think I was happy that I failed to retrieve it? Do you think I wanted to let him have the thing? Do you think it doesn't kill me inside to know that my one and only sister is getting married to some stranger she's never heard of all because I messed up?"

Her mouth was parted; ragged breaths heaved from her shaking figure as quickly as ice melted under the sizzling glare of the desert sun. The feeling of anger was dissipating, leaving in its wake a terrible emptiness that weighed like a boulder upon her spirit. She felt so drained, so tired…so confused. What was happening to her, to Risa? One moment they were frolicking in the forest as carefree children, the next their mother, who had always been so patient and caring towards them, practically threw them across an ocean spanning leagues of landless blue to meet their destiny in a place as foreign as the worlds of fantasy. But even then, Riku mused wearily, the worlds of fantasy could be molded into any thing you wanted in your mind, regardless of the fanciful descriptions an author provided for you in a book. That was the beauty of fantasy: to create and to imagine whatever you wanted according to your own preferences, without the hindrances of fact or logic. Yet this was reality, reality propelling her forward, not fantasy. She could not change things with a single flick of the finger, or replace the unwanted image before her with a picture that suited her own needs.

"I just want to let you know, Risa," Riku said, more quietly now, "If I could, I would do anything to take the burden off your shoulders."

There was a soft whisper of movement and then Riku's thick cloak was draped about her and Risa both. Cheek cushioned on Riku's shoulder, eyes closed, Risa said, just as subdued, "You promised me before that you would stay with me always, right Riku? Then, could we not just share the burden together instead of one of us alone? That is…if you're willing to forgive me first."

"Agreed and agreed, though I don't see what there is to forgive." Riku managed a small grin. Relief threaded through her entire body and with it came that tingling feeling like no other again. Without a word she laid her cheek against Risa's silky hair and closed her eyes, unaware of the fact that the lord of Syr, sitting wordlessly on the other side of them, was smiling contently as he gazed upon the two figures side by side, head pillowed against the other, each with a blissful smile that mirrored his own.

It was perhaps hours later that Riku and Risa, roused gently from their deep sleep by their father, stood up stiffly from their seats, muscles sore and backs aching, and took their first step on the country of Cerawyn. If Riku had been expecting anything drastically different about the land of Cerawyn and her homeland, she was greatly disappointed.

By now the mist had scattered, and the sun, angled between its rise and midday, cast warm, almost hot shafts of light on the brown, lifeless shore her booted feet stood uncertainly on. Before her, a wide faded path wound its way steadily through a yellow-green plain that stretched as far as her wide eyes could see, a type of yellow flat rock she had never seen before rising up from the level board in great amounts and at frequent intervals. There were hardly any trees offering protection against the fiery orb above, Riku noticed, disappointedly, already missing the cool caress of shade and breeze, in which there was none here, or scarcely any without carrying a burst of irritating heat, upon skin.

"Autumn arrives late here on Cerawyn," her father explained, taking in the way Riku kept on scratching at her skin, as if there was a constant itch running along the length of her arm. He was unloading the bags from the boat. One of these, Riku's, he handed to her. The other two he slung over his shoulders.

"You've been here before, Father?" questioned Risa. She, too, looked less than comfortable, though now her thin garments were aiding her rather than causing distress. On the other hand, Riku's clothing, consisting of an undershirt overlaid with a woolen tunic and a pair of leggings fashioned from the same material, were beginning to grow cumbersome, weighing down on her body like sacks of sand. With each passing minute the situation grew worse; under the vengeful glower of the high morning sun, a fine sheen of sweat broke out over her body, and her thick clothes clung to her like sticky plaster.

The lord nodded vaguely. "But it's different from last I've seen it…" he said, distant eyes sweeping over the empty plain. It was only when Riku announced that they should be going that he shook himself out of his trance-like state and led the way across the path, Risa following and Riku bringing up the rear.

As they walked further and further down the dusty path, Riku observed that the yellow flat rocks had circular rings engraved inside them that were wide on the outside, yet the closer they got to the center the size of the rings became smaller. There was a sort of tough, dark brown substance that surrounded the rocks. The tops of the rocks were evenly smoothed, almost as if it had been connected to a larger part and had it removed. Or chopped off, Riku thought unconsciously.

When she continued to see the yellow rocks all along the side of the path and jutting out from everywhere over the seemingly endless plain, sometimes in clumps, Riku began to feel uneasy. It was unnatural to have so many rocks, so smooth, about the area if this were just an ordinary plain. Where were the trees? The animals? It was altogether too quiet—no flapping of wings, no rustles from scurrying creatures, not even the comforting whispers of gentle leaves.

"Father?" Riku said hesitantly, jumping at the sudden appearance of a black bug that scurried across the path with nimble, silent legs. Reminding herself belatedly that a bug smaller than the size of her fingernails would not harm her, she breathed in deeply and continued with her question, "Do you what kind of rocks these are?"

"Rocks?" Her father turned, not pausing in his long strides, and glanced at her. She gestured towards the surroundings, and instantly her father's face grew grave. It was a long time before he answered, and, when he did, he said the words slowly, a deep anguish lining his wrinkling forehead. "Riku, those aren't rocks. Have you—have you heard of cities where they make their houses from trees?"

For a moment her father's words didn't sink in. To fashion trees, Nature's companions and joy, into houses and actually live inside them every day and every night, spring through winter—the very idea was as preposterous as it was revolting! To even snap a branch off a tree was unthinkable, much less tearing the whole tree apart, limb by agonizing limb. The dead branches, the dried leaves crumpled up as if crying waterless tears…a shudder ran through Riku's body.

Then bits and pieces about the homes of many foreign cities, read in a volume kept in her Mother's library, flitted through her mind, and Riku blanched in memory. The compact little booklet had been fascinating at first, telling of the rich architecture of a lord's abode, of the creation of glass through the melting and cooling of sand and other materials, of the simple yet complex layout of a stone wall. But halfway through the book it had begun to talk of the main resource for the structure of the most typical households—wood—and Riku, appalled, had quickly placed the book back on its shelf.

Now however, looking about the stumped plain, which had probably once been a beautiful lush forest, there was no avoiding the fact that humans were held responsible above all others for the destruction of a massive part of Nature's beauty.

Riku's heart ached for the trees that had been chopped down, ached for the trees that had done nothing but provide shelter and food to the weary traveler or a home to many an animal. At the same time, she was beginning to feel the first stirrings of mistrust towards the people of Cerawyn. Back on Syr, all homes were made of thatch and straw or stone and marble. On the rare occasions that a tree would become firewood, a new sapling would be planted in its place. Anything that was used was replaced, or at the very least replaced to the best of one's ability.

"Why do they leave the stumps of the trees?" Risa, who had been silent the entire time, spoke up, shivering. "This place looks so dead…couldn't they have planted new trees? Or dig up the stumps and replace the holes with fresh soil and grass?"

The lord Urwin shook his head sadly. "I'm afraid that some people do not care for the well-being of the things provided by Nature, or, if they do, they usually wind up taking what they want from her and then leaving in hopes that what they took would regenerate on its own."

"That's horrible!" exclaimed Risa, hands on hips. "What people take they should give back."

"If everyone did that, the world would be a much better—and more beautiful—place," the lord of Syr said with a short laugh. "Ah, look. We are at a fork in the road. To head to Cirath, the city where the high lord and lady—that's the lord Kousuke and the lady Emiko—and their son—Daisuke—dwells, take the route leading west. What's funny about Cirath is somehow, no matter where you are, if you walk in the direction of the sunset, you'll eventually wind up there, always. Quite useful to remember if you ever run away and get lost," he said with a wink to the twins, his cheer seemingly restored.

Riku determinedly pushed the thoughts of the dead trees to the back of her mind, although they still bothered and greatly disgusted her, and attempted a small smile. Looking at the path, which, like her father had said, split into two different paths, one going straight left, the other meandering somewhere towards the east, she asked, as they traveled the west path, "Where does the other path lead to, Father?"

"Keep following it and you get to Erucil, home to many scholars and an incredible amount of books. I hear that they have a vast collection of paintings and art as well. But that's all the way in Myrmidor, another country, so it doesn't really concern us, does it?"

Paintings? Art?

"Father, are you sure that we're heading to the right city?" Riku said dubiously. "It sounds as if that place would a better area to search than that city Cirath."

"Your mother was sure," her father replied over his shoulder, as they descended a gently sloping, bowl-shaped valley with, to Riku's delight and relief, plentiful trees spread about the area whose leaves were edged with gold and brown—the only sign that autumn was even acknowledged in this vast green plain.

Overhead, in the deep blue sky, a single bird pumped its feathered wings and chirped, a beautiful, lively little note that brought a smile to her face. As if it had been a trumpeting call, animals began to one by one poke their tiny heads out of the ground or tree holes, and bustle to and fro. Perhaps this place would not be so bad after all, Riku mused, banishing the image of a bleak castle surrounded by a league of sniggering barbarians brandishing shiny axes.

"We're almost there," Riku's father announced as they arrived at the opposite end of the valley. When they started to ascend, Risa plopped down on the ground and refused to budge another toe until they had a rest. Her father argued against her but Risa remained stubbornly firm, stating that one, her feet were tired, and two, she needed to prepare herself for the meeting up ahead. The second reason he couldn't argue against but the first produced a round of grumbles, as well as a good deal of exasperation on Riku's part. However, in the end, they both relented, as they always did, and midday found them resuming their trek over the side of the valley, rimmed with towering mountains that stood like a ring of impassive guards.

When they had nearly reached the top of the valley, they had to move to the side of the path to allow room for a man sporting a wheeled cart filled with goods on his back. Riku blinked at the man's fanciful set of garments, despite the fact that the man was obviously at labor. Whereas the clothing the people of Syr wore were practical, worn, and made to last, this person's clothing consisted of a thin silk shirt colored with twin streaks of blue and red, the latter so bright it was almost blinding to Riku, and a neat, crisp pair of trousers tucked into soft leather boots. Why the man was doing such laborious chores when he obviously belonged to nobility was beyond her, but before Riku could stop to question the man as to where his horse or mule might be, her father whisked both her and Risa along the path to continue their ascent.

What Riku saw next made her stagger, gawking.

Before her, perhaps less than a league away, lay the most awe-inspiring image she had ever seen. A castle seeming to brush the heavens up above stood proudly overlooking a wall of squared rock that had been carefully, painfully flattened from its round state to a shape that vaguely put into mind a picture of solid gray bricks. Two enormous flags, one a red as bright as the man's shirt, another the deep crimson of spilled blood, waved from long, wide poles atop two soaring towers, snapping in the breeze like rivers of liquid fire. The path they stood on eventually lead the way to the entryway of a town, and from the stoned roof of the arched entryway, in a space between hollowed rocks, hung a row of deadly, jagged fangs—the sharp end of the gate that was as of the moment lifted.

People poured out of the city's gate in waves, shoving, pushing to get to their destinations. One particularly pudgy man ran smack into Riku while she was taking in the dizzying sight of the kingdom of Cirath. Both fell crashing to the ground, but the man quickly recovered and, not even bothering with a second glance at Riku, scurried away and was swallowed by the crowds. Annoyed and feeling rather small, Riku hastily got to her feet and hurried off to the secluded forest nearby.

Here Riku attempted to go back to the castle, remembering that running off the path had also meant leaving her father and Risa behind. With swifter and surer footfalls as familiar territory surrounded her, she set off in the direction in which she had last seen the gate, peering at the steady stream of people from time to time between trees to confirm her course. At last, nearly running straight into it, Riku arrived at the castle's wall, panting. She put the sweaty palms of her hands against the smooth, cold surface and leaned her forehead against it for support. However, her break was sadly cut short when she heard a rustle of clothing above her. She looked up.

And that was how Riku met the son of the high lord and lady of Cirath, and the future husband of her sister Risa—one leg swung precariously over the side of the wall, a huge pack slung over his shoulder, and a pair of wide red eyes that stared at her in a mixture of horror and shock.

Then a cry, a crash and a crack sounded all at once, and the world turned black.

Author's notes/rants: Nooo! *cries* Dang it! I didn't make it in time! This chapter was supposed to have been posted today (September 11) but I uploaded it just as it turned 12:00 A.M., and I'm completely serious. T_T Ah man…I even held back posting this chapter for a month and two days, just because I wanted it up today, as my birthday present to you all. Yep, I'm serious; on the day of the great disaster in New York on 2001 I was born. *sigh* Oh well, can't help it. Besides, my birthday came before the disaster. ~_^

Anyway, so how did you all like the chapter? Did I ever tell you guys that I really love typing this story? ^_^ Well, this chapter is more or less based on the relationship between Riku and Risa, but I couldn't really help it (points at the dedication at the very top). Oh and if you didn't already kind of guess from my writing, this story will be based more on emotion, conflict, and relationships between family and friends, than action/adventure. So if you want to read a story of that genre, you will not find it here. Just a warning for those who might find the rants and thoughts of mine boring.

And now, once again, I have another question: What is the name of Satoshi's real father, does anybody know? I don't think they ever mentioned his name in the manga or anime, but then again, I'm usually always wrong. ^_^

Oh and special thanks to Miko for answering the question about the birthdays—I really appreciated it. ^_^ I want to thank Illicit Water Dragon (Von) and SukiAme as well for their continual support and comments. ^_^ And thank you to everybody else who has read my story! You all get a hefty chunk of cake and a huge grin. *grins* (Man I love that word! ^_^) Comments and criticism about my writing are always appreciated! Thank you! ^_^

~Lucere

(9/11/03)