A small child wandered the streets, clutching a small golden haired doll. Tears streamed down from her bright blue eyes as she called out for her mother amongst the flaming village, and her dirty fingers clutched tightly around her little doll's head, stroking it's matted hair. The once golden tresses were now stained with red, congealed blood, the liquid remains falling down her fingertips. It wasn’t until moments later did she realize that the blood that had caused her doll pain actually drizzled from her own forehead and accumulated on the plastic scalp, yet her mind refused to believe anything other than Maggie was hurt.

"Mommy?" She chirped sadly, watching the remains of her home burn aflame. "Mommy?"

Carefully she plucked Maggie from her arms and stared the doll straight in her eyes. One eye was cracked, and broken, while the other remained intact. "You be a good girl, Maggie." She said, smiling. "It hurts, but mommy will help us."

The doll didn't respond, and the girl sank to her knees, running her fingers through it's tattered hair. Her tears glistened with curved flames reflecting in their depths as they reached onward and upward, touching the skies with their heat filled fingers, leaving blackened trails in their wake.

Hanniele laughed as she waved her arms about, languidly scoffing at any one who came towards her. They fell to their knees in troves, their hands clasped in front of them, begging for consolation and their lives, yet with a swift smile they were banished, their bodies torn asunder by a command of her arm. Their cries were music to her ears, and with a glittering smile she sat down, her fingernails pressing sharply into the cushioned armrests, as she listened to the tortured screams of the former inhabitants of Winhill. to her, it was meaningless fun, watching a town built by love and strong hands thrown to the ground. It didn't take much to do achieve such a status; simply encounter the weak, and overpower them like the strong should. The sea of scalded heads and burnt hair proved that to be true.

"It all comes down to this." She purred, languidly tracing her fingers over one armored shoulder of the private of her army. "And all it took was the boy. Gateways never came easier."

Drakkar nodded grimly, ignoring her touch. The woman was cruel, to the deepest core. She sacrificed a child, and destroyed two innocents in the same night, and celebrated by bathing in their blood. He shut his eyes away form the gruesome sight of one woman, screaming, as her body burst into flames, while Hanniele's laughter rang along with her armys' thudding footsteps as they trampled the woman to her death, stomping out the flames with their muddy footprints stained in blood. One war tainted marshal lifted his boot, scowling as a small piece of brain matter fell from his boot to the floor. Looking beyond the man's head, he gazed at the remains of this once peaceful town, and scowled. He was only in this for the recruit, simply to pay his dignified due that his father before him once had, carry on the family name in this forsaken journey, yet he didn't expect to include senseless killings in this act. Each cry for help was like a knife wound to his body, cutting up precious skin and destroying whatever shell he had erected to help him continue this charade of a takeover.

"It hurts.." A small girl cried, her voice sounding like it was drowning. He chalked it up water in the lungs due to the poison the army had released. He turned on his heel and walked away, unable to stomach any more of the bloodshed. Watching children die was not part of the job description, he thought, his mind racing for any plausible answer to the genocide. His stomach churned ever so slightly, his body wavering and he narrowly avoided staggering to his knees, hissing to himself to pull it together, get a grip.

Yet when one shrill scream combined with Hanniele's laughter echoed across his ears he lost all control, emptying his stomach contents on the dirt road, and splashing onto his feet. Laughter filled the air, along with hooting calls signaling others to join them in their chanting. Shutting his eyes, Drakkar shook numbly, breathing calming gasps until the urge subsided. Staggering to his feet, he waved a flippant hand in the air and walked.

He knew this was wrong. He knew it. He knew he might as well die for it.

"I'm going to hell anyways." He grumbled, forcing his feet to move. "I might as well go out in style."

Quistis stroked her sons' hair calmly, watching as his cool gaze traveled over every face in the room. Seifer eyed him warily, his face contorted with fatigue. Irvine gave him a subtle sneer over the barrel of his rifle, while Squall and Zell sat across from one another, absent-mindedly playing cards. Squall's look held mild interest in the card game itself, while Zell seemed engrossed in every detail. Laying down one piece that flipped the board, Squall gingerly shoved the pile to Zell, who in turn gave him a small sneer of disgust and shoved it back.

"I lost, man." He grumbled. "Pay more damned attention."

"Oh."

Seifer shook his head. "You two. Grow up." He barked. "Ian's awake now."

Zell perked up almost immediately, casting a glance towards Ian. "Oh yeah? Cool! Hey wassup?"

"Nothing." Ian said, shrugging his shoulders. "What happened?"

Irvine groaned in disgust, inciting a cold glare from Quistis. Clearing his throat he stood up and slung his rifle behind his back, tilting his head forward slightly. "Apparently," He began. "Something happened while contorting you back here. You and your daddy-"

"Don't call him that."

"-Fine. You and Seifer were in a wreck. You froze up, and passed out, while the sky tore in pieces. After you went out cold, no pun intended, whatever was tearin' the world apart stopped, as if it acted while you were awake or something." Irvine gave a curt nod towards Quistis before replacing himself back in his seat.

Ian nodded. "So how'd I end up back here?"

"Seifer carried you." Quistis spoke up. "He carried you from the road to here."

"Carried me."

"Yes."

"From the road to here."

Quistis paused for a moment. "Yes."

"Great. Just great." Ian looked back to Seifer. "Don't expect anything from me, like gratitude."

Seifer rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, mumbling under his breath. "As if. Rotten kid. Can't believe I had to lug your body back here. You were like a block of ice, kid, I kept expecting you to melt on me."

"So why didn't you just leave me?" Ian's voice raised slightly, destroying what calm nerve he had left. "Would've made things easier for you, wouldn't it?"

"Oh, yeah, right, just what you'd have wanted me to do," Seifer growled back. "Just so your mother could kill me? Sure, I know you'd just love that!"

"Well you seem to think it's open season on my mother's pants, so hey, why not use your flesh and blood as ammo!"

"That's low, boy." Seifer's eyes narrowed viciously.

"Not as low as not being there for your own son." Ian spat. "And then coming back like everything was okay."

"I didn't know you existed! How many-"

"-'Times do I have to tell you? Your mother thought I was dead!'" Ian finished for him. "Ya know, you might as well think up a few new lines to add to that excuse."

Seifer reddened. "You miserable, ungrateful.."

"Shove it up your ass."

"Shut up both of you." Squall growled. He lifted his darkened eyes towards Ian, a scowl perched on his hardened features. Ian gasped inwardly at the look of the man; He seemed to have aged ten years since he had last seen him. Dark circles caressed his features, as well as lines around his eyes and mouth. His skin was pale, and he seemed to have little or no control over a subtle shaking in his hands. His hair was unkempt and unruly, and dark stubble pocked his skin. "I'm tired of the both of you. Bickering, bitching, whining, moaning and groaning, do either of you ever stop?"

Seifer rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest while Ian sulked. Squall ignored a glare from Irvine before standing up and walking to the side of the bed. Folding his arms, he refused to look the boy in the eye as he spoke, instead opting to face the ground. "Look." He whispered. "It doesn't matter whether or not he was there. You grew up with out him. He didn't know you existed. You can't blame the man for it. You can't blame anyone for it. It was just a matter of bad luck. That's all." Finally he brought his withered features to face him. "Do you understand, boy?"

Ian stared blankly at Squall. "Wow, you look like shit." Quistis slapped him behind his head harshly. "Ow! Mom?!"

"Don't swear, Ian."

"But-"

"I don't want to hear it. I said no swearing."

Ian scowled again. "Never cared before."

"Well I do now." Quistis replied curtly. "And stop slouching."

"Humph."

"I mean it, Ian." Quistis looked away and gave Squall a helpless look. "Squall, that was a nice speech you made, but it won't help us out with what's at hand. We need to figure out what's going on, and fix it. Fast."

Irvine cut in before Squall could speak. "What's there to figure out?" He said. "Ian awake, sky tears apart faster than you can shoot it. Ian passes out, and it closes before you can get the bullet through. So whatever it is, it's his fault."

Ian scowled. "Gee, Instructor Kinneas, I'm so glad to have your support."

Irvine gave a lopsided grin before continuing. "Well, think about it. Kinda coincidental, ain't it? I mean, well.. Look at the facts. Whatever's happening, is happening because of you. O' course, I've been doin' some thinkin'." He ignored the heavy scowl from Quistis and cleared his throat before he spoke again. "Alright, so it may not be too clear thinking, but listen, okay? Seifer said you were like a block of ice when he carried you back."

"Right." Ian said, nodding.

"Okay, so anyways, don't you remember all that garbage with that Hanniele woman?" Irvine questioned, holding his hands out in front of him. "Has anyone of you ever held Shiva's hand? Actually touched her? I mean, seriously touched her?"

"Quit your sicko perverted fantasies, Irvine, and get to the damned point!" Seifer barked, irritation lining his voice. "Hyne, of all things to think about, you head straight to your pants."

Squall spoke before Irvine could. "No, I see where he's going.." He murmered gazing at the ground. "Hanniele made Ian absorb Shiva. Seifer said that Ian was like a block of ice, and that everything turned cold. When Seifer came back, and he was checked over, Kadowaki said his hands were almost frost bitten. As a matter of fact they were in the first stages of being so."

"So?"

"So, Seifer, I honestly think that there may be some merit to that." Squall stepped towards Ian and grabbed his wrist, twisting it upwards and rolling up the sleeve. "Just as I thought." He murmured quietly, holding up Ian's arm. Ian gave Squall a cold look and snarled. "Down boy.. Anyway, look at his arm. See the welts, the marks?"

Quistis frowned and snatched her sons' arm away from Squall, ignoring the squeak of pain Ian emitted. The small scars were tinged aqua, bruising slightly around the diameter while the heads came into a white point. There were six going down his right arm, criss crossing at his wrist, and three down his left, raised scars that seemed ugly and old. Seifer walked to the other side of his bed and plucked out Ian's other arm, examining the welts carefully, and bringing his eyes back to Quistis for a moment before tracing them back to Ian's arm. Another line criss crossed at his wrist, and when Quistis forcibly pushed his sleeve to his shoulder, a large, blue scar lay on his bicep.

"What the hell is going on here?" Quistis murmured quietly. Seifer looked up and shook his head.

"There's one on his neck too." Squall said. Ian obediently lifted his chin and felt Squall's lithe finger trace lightly across his skin. "It's just forming, and you can barely see it, but it's there."

Ian snorted and pulled his arms away from his parents. "I feel like a damned guinea pig." He grumbled. "How long until you hook me up to IV's and start a drip feed to see how long I last?"

Quistis scowled. "Ian."

"Hey mom, why don't we just get a catheter in here or something so I don’t even have to leave if I have to take a piss?"

"Ian, stop it." Quistis said, her voice tight and controlled. "You have to understand where we're all coming from."

Shifting slightly, Ian pulled the sheet off his body and swung his legs to the floor. No one stopped him from standing up and stretching, before sitting on the edge of the bed. He ignored Quistis' calling of his name, and stood up once more and walked to the window, staring outside. "These marks on my hide, you know what they resemble?" He asked. Silence in the room, except for a nervous shuffling. "Remember that kid that died? I bet if you look at my back the skin looks flayed. Blue scars. Down to the same way that kid was torn apart. These scars, don't you recognize them? Down to.. Down to the same way that kid was killed."

"How the hell do you know?" Seifer demanded.

"You think I didn't have a damned front row seat?" Ian shouted back over his shoulder. "You think I didn't watch him die? You wanna ask questions; ask Mister Leonhart why or how he knew I'd be marked up like this! Ask Mister Kinneas how he knew the connection to Shiva might have been! We didn't know this shit, so why should they?"

Quistis walked over to Irvine and glared at him. "Talk, Irvine." She demanded. Behind her Seifer stalked Squall, who was casually ignoring his brooding stance.

"Aww, Quisty, just calm your pretty.. self.. down." Irvine flashed a charismatic smile that faltered when he realized it wasn't going to soften her hardened exterior. “Um, okay. Well, after you left, weird things started happening with the GF’s, especially with the new kids who were really into ‘em. And I mean, into ‘em. Squall, remember Topher Stiles?

Squall quietly nodded his head, and Irvine spoke again. “Topher was addicted to ‘em, kinda sorta. It got weird when he kept screaming that he was in love with Siren. Just about had the boy locked up if it wasn’t for Gabrian. He kept tellin’ us he was joking around, messing around. We found out later the boy had actually become infatuated with Siren, and Gabe was covering it up.”

”So what’s that got to do with me?” Ian asked.

”Squall interrupted. “Topher got obsessed. Completely… he couldn’t take it anymore. While we always use them for power, he used Siren for everything but, until one day she absorbed so much into his memory that he had actually started to think that he was her. He thought he could fly, basically, and walk on water. Of course, he couldn’t, and drowned. We found him washed ashore on the beach after a few hours, and when he was autopsied, it was discovered that he had similar markings on his body that Siren had. His head had scars where her wings would be, his arms, legs, markings of similar discretion. He had apparently absorbed Siren enough to have her markings. I think that’s what’s going on with you, Ian.”

”But Shiva’s clean.” Ian remarked casually. “Anyone who’s seen her knows that.”

”But not the one you were... attacked with. That one was pox-marked with scars. Her arms, legs, even her back… Oh Hyne..” Squall’s face went ashen. “They killed the boy the way..”

”They killed Shiva?” Irvine spoke. “Remember how we found out Siren died?”

”Drowning.”

”Topher.” Seifer growled under his breath. “Topher drowned. Siren drowned. Next you’re gonna tell me Ifrit-“

”-Burned up like a firework display when someone let loose a match.” Irvine finished for him. Seifer gave him a harsh stare. “Yep, burned to death. With Shiva it was different, though. She was cut up and her blood frozen, then it redistributed back into her body. Kinda creepy isn’t it?”

Ian gasped. “You don’t mean to tell me my blood’s gonna be drained and then thrown back into my corpse? Oh hell no. No way, no how.”

”Ian, stop it.” Squall said. “Topher died willingly with Siren. Shiva hasn’t engulfed your brain, just your body, so whatever happened with Topher won’t happen with you.”

Ian hesitated a moment before attempting to speak, but was cut off suddenly by a faint ringing. Squall raised a hand to silence any inquiries as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone, watching the numbers that appeared. “Laguna?” He grumbled, flipping open the top receiver and pressing it against his ear. “Fine time to give me a ring up, father. Yeah? Uh huh. What!?”

Seifer’s head shot up sharply and he glared at Squall. “What happened? Hey, Pubes, what’s going?”

Squall waved an arm and gave Seifer a dirty look, mouthing an obscenity before returning to the phone. “Every last one of them? Are you sure? You’ve checked them all right? Oh Hyne.. What? When did this happen? Dear Hyne that was when Ian...”

Ian winced as he saw Squall mumble an apology and hang up the phone, slipping it back into his pocket. “Dead.” Squall whispered, staring blankly. “Winhill.. Everyone in Winhill’s been slaughtered. Everything, nothing, everything... oh god, nothing is green within a two mile radius of that town. He tells me… everything is red. The air smells like copper… There are bodies, everywhere. Oh my god…”

Irvine choked out a gasp, while Seifer and Quistis remained quiet; their heads tilting in a silent mourn. Uncomfortable shuffling was heard, and when they lifted their heads, Ian was gone.

”You know you’re going to lose, right?”

”Not on your life, dumb ass.”

”Ooh, spiting words from he Great Dincht.”

”And don’t you forget it.”

Collete smirked. Playing basketball with Gabrian Kramer was always a fond past time of theirs, even if they almost never agreed on anything else. When he was dating her sister, even then they’d always find a few spare moments to toss around a ball and throw it through a chained loop, shoving their winnings into each other’s faces like spoiled children with candy. In everything else they sparred in, with a vengeance unmatched, but when it came down to the court they always found solid ground to either bad mouth one another, laugh at one another, cause harm, or otherwise, just talk.

”So what’s up with Renzuka?” Gabrian asked her. He slid the ball around her right side as the question caught her off guard, throwing it high and whooping as it slammed into the hoop.

Collete sneered and snatched the ball away. “No idea. He came back a mess, and everyone’s interrogating him now. So I don’t know.”

”I figured you’d be the first one in the Infirmary, griping.” Gabrian smirked. He reached over and grabbed the ball away again, motioning towards the bench on the side of the court. Ignoring the towel he offered, she instead opted to reach into her gym bag and grab a water bottle, tossing him one as well. “Thanks Dincht.”

”Yeah.”

”So.” Gabrian uncapped his bottle and took a gulp before speaking again. “How are you two love birds?”

Collete scoffed. “We’re fine.”

”Fine, as in, fucked-up, insecure, neurotic and emotional?”

She choked up a laugh. “Sounds about right.”

”Ya know, Dincht, you don’t deserve that guy if he’s gonna treat you like the trash he talks.” Gabrian capped his bottle and wiped his mouth. “I mean it, considering this whole blah funk you’re in is probably his fault.”

Collete gave Gabrian a dark look. “What makes you think it’s his fault?”

”The fact you’re not talking about it.”

”Well you make about as much sense as usual”

Gabrian shrugged. Uncapping his bottle again, he spoke before he took a long drink. “Yeah, okay, so I’m wrong. What did you do?”

”Slept with him.” She said casually. Gabrian choked on his water and spit it out.

”You did what? Oh, damn, Dincht.” Gabrian wiped his mouth with his forearm, dropping his water bottle. He stifled a laugh that could not be contained as he inched closer. “Geezus f’n Hyne, what the hell did you say? You actually screwed Fresh? The Fresh? Stole his cherry right out from under him?”

Showing disgust Collete socked Gabrian in the arm, hard, to stop his giggling. “No, dumbass. I didn’t take it that apparently happened a while ago. It’s a long story, let’s just say it fucked up the friendship, because I slept with him for the wrong reasons. Okay?”

”Man you are so not whiny.” Gabrian gave her a calm smile before clearing his throat. “So you didn’t love him?”

”Of course I did. Do.”

”Then I don’t know how things could have gotten so salty with the two of you. I know for a fact Fresh isn’t the type to screw and take off.” Collete gave him a confused gaze, which Gabrian took note of. “He was raised by his mother, no father around. Mirs. Trepe isn’t the needy type, as you can see, but she’s really maternal. She threatened to kick my ass when that crap in the Tomb happened, and boy, would she have. He’s a mama’s boy. I bet he’s tried it once, and his mother kicked his ass then. She’s a strict one, Mrs. Trepe is.

Collete shivered and shrunk down a bit, slumping. “She’ll probably kick my ass if she hears.”

”About?”

”Nothing.”

”Of course.”

”Bite me.”

”With pleasure.” Gabrian gave her a polite smirk before speaking again. “Look, Colie-“

”-Don’t call me that ridiculous name!”

”Fine. Collete.” He rolled his eyes as the small smile she had. “Whatever happened happened. Get on with your life. Whether it was your fault or his, nothing can be done now with out a mega apology and then maybe some time. I I know you, Cole, and frankly, I doubt you’d do too much that a little humble pie won’t cure.”

Collete began to speak before Gabrian raised a hand, silencing her. “Tut! Silence is golden when the great Gabrian speaks.”

She sneered again. “Jackass.”

”Of course.”

Collete sighed again, wrapping her arms around her waist. “I’m just scared, Gabe. Is it nice to say I’ve never felt this way about anyone? Or is that too cliché?”

”Cliché to the gills, Dincht. But hey. It’s true. But sometimes, things just aren’t meant to be, no matter what.” Gabrian swung a heavy arm over her shoulders and hugged her tight. “I mean, look at your bitch sister. And me.”

”Of course.”

”Of course… Stop taking my lines, Dincht, or I’ll kick your ass. Anyways.” He cleared his throat. “I actually thought her and I were gonna go off in our white little carriage and all that shit. Ya know, wait till we graduated SeeD, get married, have kids, the whole nine yards. Before Miss Prissy I never felt that way either. But ya know that’s done and gone now.”

”Right.”

”So now, we’re not even friends because I was caught up in that lunacy. But, know something?” She shook her head. “I still love her. In a way. But it’s fading. I love her in the way that she showed me that I wasn’t the complete cold, utter bastard I figured myself to be.”

Collete frowned. “Did you date for about six months? Isn’t that kinda short?”

”Stop pressing details Dincht.”

”Riiiight.”

”What did I say about questioning me?” Gabrian chuckled and hugged her tight. “Look, I know, we’re not exactly the best of friends, nor will we ever be. But look, Cole, I don’t want you upset. We’re cool, on the court at least. I know you think I’m the most impeccable of all that is asshole-dom, But look, kid. You and I, we’re friends. Deep down, we’re friends. We’ve been through too much shit together not to at least give it a shot.”

Collete snickered. “This must be Contessa coming through. The Gabe I know isn’t this nice.”

”Oh Hyne. There you go.” He rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Details. You and details. Gawd, don’t ever just shut up and take a dose of the niceness from an asshole every once in a while? You’re just like Fresh. Hell, you’re even worse, you’re like Taelon.”

Gabrian rolled his eyes at her laughter and reached into his gym bag. Pulling out an assortment of food, he plucked out a candy bar and chomped into his noisily, offering it to her and shrugged when she refused. “Treating your body like a temple there, eh Gabe?”

Gabrian shrugged. “Temple is open to worship. Feel free to kneel down at the alter.”

Collete groaned and Gabrian laughed, taking another large bite and chewing noisily. Glancing around his surroundings he choked on his candy bar and snorted, coughing slightly before slurping from his water bottle again. “Well gee, speak of the devil. Renzuka’s out and about like a lost kid in the supermarket.”

Quickly she looked in the direction Gabrian was facing and narrowed her eyes. Ian walked mechanically beside the court, half of his back to them, wringing his hands out in front of him. He seemed preoccupied with himself, his body shaking as if caught in a sharp wind while he mumbled incoherently in low whispers. His pale pallor seemed fragile, and tinged with blue, and he seemed to have lost a bit of weight. As they watched him, they saw his hands creep up his sides and hug himself, like a scared child, and his head lean back towards the sky before gazing down at the ground. Blond locks crowded his face and seemed dull and dirty, dried sweat causing his hair to become stringy and limp, moving lifelessly as he walked, tripping slightly over a large walk and stumbling to his knees. Collete rose from her seat and began to walk towards him, until Gabrian’s hand reached out and grabbed her wrist, pulling her back.

”You think Fresh wants to see you right now?” He hissed, never taking his eyes off Ian. “Stay put. Lemme handle it.”

Collete scoffed. “His worst enemy over his best friend?”

”Our places, dear Colie,” Gabrian growled, digging into her wrist deeper. “Have been switched right now. Stay put, say nothing, and when I beckon you, come.”

”You can’t tell me what to do!”

”No, but I’ll be damned if you’re going to go over there and play the forgiving girlfriend when it looks like he’s heading to the training center and diving straight into a T-Rexaur’s mouth.” He let go of her arm and gave her a cold stare. “Take it from the jilted boyfriend of your twin sister; seeing either one of you right now isn’t going to make everything better.”

Calmly, Collete nodded and sat back down on the bend, crossing her legs and folding her arms around her midsection. Taking a deep breath, Gabrian turned on his heel and walked over to Ian, who was busy brushing his knees off while mumbling in whispers. Gabrian watched him for a few moments before reaching a tentative arm outwards to touch the younger boy’s shoulder. The split second he touched him, Gabrian stifled a gasp. Even through the thick sweater he felt the icy coldness emanating from Ian’s skin, and the bones working underneath his shoulders. As if he was shocked by a jolt of energy Ian sprung around, his face haunted, and stepped away, still cradling his body protectively. Gabrian noticed his dark hollowed eyes searching his face for recognition before they glinted brightly for a fleeting moment before falling again into miss matched pools of disdain.

”Oh great. You.” He hissed, gritting his teeth. “I don’t care what you have to say, just say it somewhere else.”

Gabrian shrugged simply, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Just take it like an observant stranger, Fresh. Noticed you walking, and decided to tag along.”

”Whatta’ya want, Gabrian?”

”Aw, is that anyway to talk to a dear old friend?” He chuckled to himself, ignoring Ian’s cold look. “Alright, bad joke. Heard about your collapse.”

Ian shrugged and sat down on the clean swept floor, easing his legs underneath him. “Word travels fast.”

”Indeed it does.” Gabrian plopped down next to him, and leaned back on his arms. “So just what the hell is wrong with you anyway? You’ve yanked us through time, given us all freakin’ headaches, and made your girlfriend cry.”

”Look if you’re gonna be a fucking asshole then don’t even fucking think of bothering me. I have enough shit on my mind than to have to think up a way to deal with the likes of you, so fuck off.” Ian wrapped his arms around his knees, cringing.

Gabrian rolled his eyes. “Well it’s the fucking truth. All I can forgive except that girlfriend thing.”

”I wasn’t asking for your forgiveness.”

”No shit. But I gave it anyway.”

”What do you want, Gabrian?” He said the name like a curse. “I just wanna be alone.”

Gabrian shrugged. “No you don’t. You want the exact opposite. You want someone around, so you don’t have the feeling of being alone. Plain enough.”

”Jackass.”

”I’ll take that in tune that I’m, as always, right?”

Ian sighed, and leaned back against the paneled wall. Gabian was right, as much as he despised admitting it. He didn’t want to be alone, not during this. He felt the growing pain of a headache nestling between his eyes, stabbing sharply into his brain while his bones ached, just ached. He felt tired then, lethargic, an outsider in an insider’s world while he simply stared ahead of him, ignoring any presence around him until he spoke. “Winhill.”

Gabrian raised an eyebrow. “Winhill?”

”Dead. Gone. That town... it’s demolished. And it’s my fault.”

Gabrian’s sudden gasp only made Ian sink lower. “Don’t get all supportive on me.” He growled sarcastically.

”Didn’t… Uhh... Did you say Winhill is gone?”

Ian hung his head. “Yes, yes. Winhill’s been destroyed. And it’s my fault.”

”Something about that… uhh..” Gabrian cleared his throat. “Why do I get the feeling that whatever happened during that... festival… thingy has a huge part in this?”

Ian smirked slightly before his face fell again. “You have a lousy-ass way with words, Gabrian.”

”Yeah. Well… Hmm. You talked to Cole about this?” Gabrian asked, attempting to bring some hope into the younger mans’ eyes.

Instead, they darkened, and narrowed. “No.”

”Why not? Of all people she’d be the one to understand.”

”She’s a fucking bitch.” Ian barked. “Just like her fucking sister. Both bitches, both liars, and both heading down the same fucking path to ruin. That’s all.”

”Funny thing to say about a girl who gave you her virginity, Renzuka.”

”She used me to get back at her sister.” He sputtered. “Anything she ever told me was just lies. Giselle, Collete, they’re just… just… Hyne, you dated Giselle. You know what it’s like to get screwed over by one of the Dincht twins.”

”So nothing can be done now to mend your screwed up friendship?”

”Right.”

”Even when deep down you know, that she just may be the one sane piece in your life right now.” Gabrian continued calmly. He leaned back against the wall and turned his head towards Collete. She had taken to absentmindedly searching through his duffel bag, and plucking out an apple to munch on curiously. She didn’t look their way, only away gazing in another direction, fiddling with a long lock of hair that fell over one shoulder. With a scoff Gabrian leaned towards Ian, and smiled when he noticed that he wasn’t alone in his semi-spying.

”Look at her, Renzuka.” He whispered. “She’s lost. She knows she did wrong, whatever it was. Knowing Cole, though, she couldn’t have been alone. She’s not a bitch, she never was. Her sister and her are like two sides of the same coin. Same mold, but completely different. She cares about you, too much if you ask me, and for someone to care about someone like that, it couldn’t have been completely intentional.”

Ian winced. “Maybe not.”

”So.” Gabrian grunted, turning to face him. “Instead of dwelling on Collete, I suggest you go right to the source of your problem.”

”Which is?”

”Giselle.”

Ian scowled. “Oh just the name to make my day even worse.”

Gabrian laughed cynically, giving a trademark arrogant grin. “Anything to do just that. Anyway, I’m just letting you know. Don’t take shit out on Cole. She’s cool.”

”What about Giselle?”

”Give her Hell. And while you’re at it, give her a couple kicks in the ass. Everyone assumes you’re nuts, so it’ll be okay.”

Ian choked out a hearty laugh over that comment, wrapping his arms over his shoulders. “That is so fucked up.”

”Hey, just use it to your advantage. Hyne, you’re a dumbass.”

”Thanks Gabe.”

”Don’t thank me.” Gabrian smirked. “Do yourself a damned favor and forgive, forget, and get the hell on with your life. Leave Giselle to me. Whatever part she had in this, I’ll find out. And whatever happened in Winhill, I doubt that’s your fault either. So shut the fuck up already, stop whining, and fix whatever’s wrong. Use the hand you’re dealt because you’re not gonna get a better one for a while.”

Ian nodded. Standing up, he shook a little but felt relieved when Gabrian shot up quickly to steady him on his feet. Giving a slight nod, Ian walked towards Collete, leaving Gabrian behind to watch the scene unfold, ready to pounce if things got bad. He watched as Ian crept up to Collete and placed a withered hand on her shoulder, causing her to turn around with a shocked look on her face. He didn’t hear their talk, only noticed a few words being passed between them, but even Gabrian couldn’t stop the relief from flooding his veins when Ian reached over and hugged her, softly, laying his head on her shoulder and she did the same.

’Well.’ He mused to himself. ‘One problem taken care of. Now, time to take care of Miss Prissy, and show her that no matter what she does, there will be no way in Hell she will run Garden.’

With that he walked towards the exit of the court, musing to himself just how sweet his revenge would be.

Taelon laced his boots methodically, over looping one lace after another before setting down his feet to the floor, take a deep breath, and then buckle down the overlapping straps to keep his ankles in place. Moments before his father had knocked on his door, and suppressed a shock at seeing Angie’s presence within his sons’ quarters, but ignored them while he relayed the details of their next mission. Winhill had been demolished, nothing left but stumps of trees and corpses, all drenched in crimson life fluid that was now turning black from contact with the air. Upon hearing the news Angie busied herself in her studies, reading mechanically, turning page after page of information beyond words from a book that had long ago been thrown aside for being unfair and untrue, but at that particular moment, held more truths than they had witnessed.

”You ever read this, Taelon?” Angie murmured, pulling the book closer to her face. “Ever read the similarities between the Festival of Time and that Festival they made Ian do? Of course they called it something different, but…”

”What’re you getting at, Angie?” Taelon asked, looking up from strapping his boots tightly around his ankles.

Angie sighed, glancing at him from over the rim of the book. “Whatever happened then, was meant to be, I think. This book talks about the old times rituals. They were brutal, your typical sacrifice of a virgin child thing, always looking for a way to be one step ahead. It says here they actually succeeded with the Tomb king, Tsunan, and figured when he died he could be used as a portal to bring in a lesser descendant of their clan.”

Clasping his boots once more, Taelon raised his chin to meet her face, tilting his head slightly in a scowl. “Speak in English, Angie. What’re you getting at?”

Taking a deep breath, Angie read a line in her book, tracing it with her finger, before speaking again more coherently. “Their main objective was to control time, therefore which they can succeed in teleporting from one dimension, theirs, to another, ours. They figured out what had occurred wrong, and therefore perfected it with the loss and bloodshed of many children along the way. See, they used Tsunan’s body as the door, and Ian went through. Ever wonder why Ian was able to go through, but not Gabe?”

”Stick of bad luck?” Taelon half joked, smiling. His face straightened when Angie’s face deepened with a scowl. “I mean… well no.”

”Hanniele said that Ian was a descendant from Mister Almasy’s line.” She replied curtly. “It says here that they needed that, a distant bloodline to connect to and bring back, and then send on their merry way so they can come through as well, using that descendant as a doorway, I guess. Can’t use the King, because he’s dead, and doesn’t have Shiva running through him.”

Taelon frowned. “Wait. So they did that Festival thing, with Shiva and crap, and sent us all back, so that Ian could be their doorway? Why didn’t they just send themselves back when we went back?”

Angie smirked. “Would you believe it’s taboo?”

”Not really.”

”Believe it, because that’s the reason.”

Taelon raised an eyebrow. "Come again?"

Angie cleared her throat and sighed, scanning the book page quickly before she talked. "It's taboo. They could if they wanted, but for some odd reason they believe that they need their host, in our case, Ian, as an anchor to keep them in this world." She closed the book and set it on her lap, a small smile perched on her lips. "I think it could be true. I mean, with Ian alive and running about, they're allowed to be in our world. Or so this book claims."

He synched his boots up sharply, and stood up. With a curious look on his face, he reached into her lap and plucked the book deftly from her grasps, skimming through the pages quickly. "Where the heck didja get this, Ang?"

She hesitated a moment before answering. "NORG's library, in the basement."

"Say what?!" Taelon dropped the book to the floor, and stepped away from it carefully. "You are going to get yourself killed someday Angie. You're one nosy person, you know damned well no one's allowed to go down into the basement except my dad."

"Then your daddy shouldn't leave his keys in the elevator slot." Angie stuck her tongue ot at him. "He should have let us down there sooner. Why were these books kept there and we aren't allowed to see them?"

Taelon shrugged. "I dunno. I never asked what went down there. He doesn't even like going down there, but sometimes it has to be done." He sat down next to her and began skimming the book cover, opening it up to a random page. "Maybe because it goes against Hyne?"

"Does it really matter?"

"To the Garden Faculty, yeah."

"Those idiots who run around like mindless androids?" Angie smirked, setting the book aside. "They work for your dad, not the other way around."

Taelon shook his head and picked up the book once more, flipping absentmindedly though the pages. "They're also religeous freaks who would rather die then have their precious ways proven wrong."

"Weirdos."

"Yeah."

Angie pouted. "So. I guess this means, what? Tell your dad?"

"My dad would never listen to us." Taelon started, annoyed. "We might have a slippery chance of being right, and we should never undermind Squall Leonhart. As much as everyone worships him, I just don't see it. He's Dad, plain and simple. But I know, this is the last thing he'll listen to."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because. We could be right."

Angie shrugged and leaned down to tug on her boots. A knock at the door startled both of them out of their silences. Quietly Taelon pulled the door open, to reveal his father standing, stiff and cold. His weary gaze traveled over Angie's fidgeting form before placing directly on Taelon. The boy blinked a few times before realizing with a shred of doom what had conspired. "Dad?"

"Taelon." Squall's voice was monotone, with a distinct hint of sarcasm. Taelon swallowed.

"How much did you hear?"

"Enough to know that maybe I don't listen to you enough." Squall's voice was bitter. "Get ready you two. Taelon, you're next to me on the Ragnarok. Angie, you're.. You're with Ian and Quistis. Taelon, you have to help calm your grandfather down."

Taelon nodded slowly. "Grampa... loved that place, huh?"

Squall nodded, and closed his eyes, turning on his heel. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words seemed lost and he closed his lips and shook his head, walking out the door, leaving a very confused son, and an understanding girl. Taelon began to head out after him, but a strong hand grasped at his arm.

"Angie?" He started, frowning. "What're you doing? I have to ask Dad something."

She shook her head. "No. Remember who else is buried there?"

Taelon hung his head and Angie nodded. "It can wait."

Ian was silent for most of the trip, his mind wandering. Every once in a while Quistis would reach over and stroke his shoulder, only to have him turn away and gaze vacantly out his side window. Across from him, Angie tried stirring up some mindless chatter, dictating the latest gossip to catch his interest for a few moments before she eventually too fell back against her seat in annoyance. Longing howls could be heard from the seats behind him, as Laguna shed his tears for his former home, his choking sobs unconsolable by his son and grandson as they murmered soothingly to make attempts to cease his broken feelings. Eventually they, too, gave up, Ian noticed, and consisted with sitting on either side of the older man, grasping his hands as he mourned. Seifer stepped towards the front of the hanger and knelt down before the cascading clouds, clasping his hands together in a silent prayer before standing on his feet and crossing his shoulders in a traditional ending of a prayer.

Ian watched, a bit disturbed at the sight. "You pray?" He asked.

"Almost every day." Seifer said in an even tone. "You don't?"

"I gave up on Hyne."

"Since when?"

"Since you showed up in my life."

Seifer sighed, and shook his head. "Someday, Ian. Someday." He said matter of factly. "We all have to atone to what we've done. I wasn't there for you growing up."

"Yeah." The young boy snapped. "So when're you gonna atone for that?"

"You ever think for a moment that maybe with your additude, I am?" Seifer gazed at his startled look before speaking. "You never once thought that maybe your thoughts aren't your own? That some higher power lurked down and hypnotized you into thinking you're not who you think you are?"

"What're you getting at?" Ian folded his arms across his midsection. "I'm not you."

"You may be more like me than you ever wanted to be." Seifer growled through grit teeth. "You think you were under control when Garden blew? You think you knew what was going on when that kid died?"

"I'm nothing-"

"-Like me. Yeah I've heard that line from you before but every single day you end up more and more like me when I was your age."

"Funny." Ian smirked then, his eyes glittering. "When you were my age you were on a homocidal rampage across the globe."

Seifer flinched, feeling bruised. "That's a low blow kiddo." He snarled, turning to face Ian. His face was contorted with rage, the line sof age showing fiercly. "I may have done that, but don't count yourself so fucking lucky. Just remember where we're going, and why we're going there, before you ever say that to me again."

Ian faltered for a moment, losing his composure. He glared fiercly at the older man, who tilted his head back and laughed, tauntingly in his son's face before shaking his head, in utter amusement, giving him a toothy grin. It was at that moment Ian hated the man with a passion that burned like fire, scorching his veins. Inwardly he saw Seifer igniting in a maelstrom of fury, engulfed in tainted fingers of flame as they licked up his black coat, singing his blond hair into a smokey black. Seifer's cries echoes in his mind's ears as he screamed in agony, batting furiously at his clothing.

"Ian!?" Quistis shouted, standing from her seat and thrusting her arms outwards. Ian blinked and shook himself out of his trance, and screamed, wathcing in terror as Seifer began throwing down his jacket. Quistis whispered harshly under her breath, casting Water onto the burning fabric, while Seifer cursed loudly. Turning sharply in a flail of blond hair Quistis glared hard at her son, planting her fists at her side. "Ian?! What did you think you were doing?"

"I-I didn't mean to..." Ian sputtered. Half heartedly he rose from his seat and approached Seifer's coat, kneeling down to study the remains of the fabric. It smelled like burnt cotton and nylon, and charred the collar and part of the sleeves black. Picking it up he approached Seifer carefully, and extended his arms. "I'm sorry."

Seifer snatched the jacket back ruthlessly, and glared down at it's remains. "It's ruined now." He growled before tossing it aside and walked towards the door. "You better pray to Hyne whatever grade you're getting in Magic is a failing one."

"I said I was sorry." Ian spoke loudly after Seifer's retreating form. Quistis followed him, her steps quick paced and angry. "Mom? Mom!" Ian called after her.

She turned suddenly and glared sapphire daggers into her son's face, causing him to cringe. "We land in a half hour, Ian." She said coldly. "Get ready."

With that she turned on her heel and left him, blank faced and slack jawed. Inside he shook, his mind wrestling with the ideas of his own father burning before he rubbed his head, and sighed, hating the feeling of his own mother's anger directed at him. After a few moments passed he sat back down in his seat and curled his knees to his chest, and buried his face in his arms.

"I didn't think it would be this bad."

Laguna's voice was choking back tears, breaking under the great restraint he put on air smelled of copper tinged with the vile stench of evil and sulfer. He shut his eyes as a strong wind tussled the remains of the burnt grass and shot ash into his eyes, which al;ready streamed tears, and left black war paint marks across his face. As he stepped casually across the mine field of what was formally known as beautiful wheat grass, his false leg cause on an extended root from the ground, bringing him to his knees. He refused to bring his head up, not willing to view the gorge of charred and mutilated bodies of those who hated him and yet loved him. A bit further he crawled, and gasped as his hand came down on a sharpened object, piercing the skin. Pulling his clenched fist away, he stared at the blood in his palm before pulling up the heavy slate, and gazing down at it's lime stone carving.

"Dear Hyne..." He gasped, reading the name over and over. "Raine.."

"Father." Squall's deep voice murmered, echoing on the winds. "Please.. We have much work to do."

Nodding, Laguna stiffled another sob as he replaced the marker to the ground, bringing in all coinciding pieces. "I'm sorry... I lost myself there.. I..."

"It's alright, Grandfather." Taelon began stepping down the hill carefully, and kneeled beside Laguna. "We just have to check the wreckage. Please?"

"Wreckage.." Laguna murmered sadly. "Thats all this place is. All thats left. Nothing. Burned houses, scorched bodies.. The people.. Oh Hyne the people..."

"Gone." A deep voice grumbled. Laguna turned his head and peered behind him, watching Seifer's brooding form approach. "Maybe you shouldn't have come here."

Laguna shook his head and climbed to his feet, brushing his knees. "No." He barked crudely. "I'm fine. I deserve to bury my own."

"We aren't burying, we're salvaging. My excavation team-"

"Your excavation team can go to Hell!" Laguna started after Seifer with a burst, held back only by Squall and Taelon. "Let me go! I'm gonna strangle this bastard!"

"Father!" Squall shouted. Taelon struggled next to him, pressing lithe fingers into his grandfather's arms and shoulders, pulling him sharply. Sighing in exhasperation, Seifer stepped towards Laguna and held out a gloved palm to his forehead, inchs away from the older man's face. He closed his eyes and chanted a word under his breath, concentration lines forming across his withered forhead. Laguna gave one last thrust away from Squall and Taelon, releasing himself from their grasps and fell to the ground, gasping. Choking out an obscenity he thrust a fist into the soft dirt before slumping against it, breathing hollow and deep. Everyone froze for a moment, staring down at the older man, the tention thick before a loud snoring ensued.

Seifer stepped forward and shook his head towards the two young Leonharts. "Sleep." He said tonelessly. "Sleep. Not death. He shouldn't have come here."

"My mother is buried here." Squall spoke calmly. Seifer turned his back and began barking orders to the other children who came along, commanding them to search and salvage whatever if anything that could be, and to help survivors. Squall stepped forward once again and placed a firm hand on Seifer's shoulder, and said more loudly "My mother-"

"I heard you the first time!!" Seifer shouted. Turning sharply he slapped Squal's hand from his shoulder and pushed him back sharply, taking the younger man by surprise. "I heard you! This is a damned mission, Squall, and I don't have time to pat your head and tell you it's gonna be alright, because it won't! Now get off your platform and go take your father back to the Rag, and take these kids to the east side of Winhil for the investigation."

Squall narrowed his eyes. "When did you become the leader of this?"

"When you became blood involved. Now go."

The commander gave him a cold stare before motioning to Taelon for help. Nodding, Taelon reached downwards and lifted his heavy grandfather's arm over his shoulders and grunted under the weight, straightening his legs to support him more carefully. Squall mumbled commands and Taelong followed, careful not to trip, all the while refusing to meet any Almasy eyes. Quistis stepped towards the three men and kneeling slightly, laying a soothing palm on Laguna's cheek and whispering a thanks before allowing them to pass. Squall smiled up at her timidly and nodded, motioning for Taelon to continue, and he did, keeping his head down at all times. Watching them retreat with the limp man in tow saddened her deeply, and she sied, shifting her gaze back to Seifer. He barked orders left and right to the remaining students, including all their children and other students, pointing towards key points of Winhil.

"You, Kramers!" Seifer spat. "To the west side. Take a squad of three with you and investigate the cave structure. See if any survivors ran towards there and are in hiding."

Gabrian and Contessa both nodded grimly, and began picking a few extra SeeDs to join them. Seifer turned to Collete and Giselle, pointing towards the upper hills of Winhil, while sending Angie and the now returning Taelon towards the town itself, and pin pointing a few adults to accompany the groups themselves. All complied, with Selphie and Irvine joining the Kramer twins, Squall and Xu with his son and Angie, and Zell with his daughters. Zeifer sighed, shaking his head, until he felt a smooth palm against his side. He twisted a small ways, and let a tiny grin form unwillingly against his lips. With the sun barely touching the mountains against the background against her, she seemed so young again, her faded blond hair back to it's vibrant golden strands, and any wrinkles she accumilated over time faded into shadows that accented her features. Deftly he faced her, cupping her face in his hands and pressing his lips against hers desperately, with a wanton need. She pulled away slowly and wrapped her arms around his waist, nuzzling against his chest. In a mind so far away, Seifer wondered if it was possible to feel at home amidst death and destruction, a battle field.

"Where's Ian?" Quistis asked, still cradling herself against him.

"I thought he was with you?"

Her eyes shot open wide, and she pulled away. "What? No, he isn't. Did you send him with one of the other groups?"

They stared at one another for the briefest of moments before breaking apart and calling out their sons' name.

They didn't ask him to come here. He did it himself.

The tombstones remained crushed into marble, rubble and rock as he stepped over them, catching a glimpse of a name here and there, listening for cries that he knew deep down would never come. In the back of his mind he knew he had no right to be there, glimpsing their deaths, and watching as they were laid to rest ontop of one another in a heap of cadavars, so he came here instead, to be with the already lucky ones who were fortuneate not to be alive during the massacre. Steadily he walked, the rubble under his feet making it hardly safe for his stroll, until he came upon what he thought was just another marble statue, remaining some how intact. Kneeling down he pushed his arms underneath the charred rock and groaned, trying to push it on it's side, to at least erect it. It seemed lighter than the blackened marble some of the other graves had, and more worn to the touch, with sharpened ridges.

Almost suddenly the statue groaned, and he jumped back, yelping in fear. It rolled on it's side and swore, bringing itself to it's knees and shaking off a flourish of dust. Strong, tired arms rose to peel off a helmet, revealing glittering grey storm cloud colored eyes, and black hair. "Who're you?"

"I-I should ask you the same question." Ian spoke, close to a whisper. "Oh man, are you a survivor?"

"No!" The man barked, pulling himself to his feet. "I'm part of what had caused this mess."

Ian's face twisted with rage, and he groped at his waist for his whip. "You murderous son of a bi-"

"Stop it! I've come to warn you." He noticed little resolve in the younger man's stance, so he shook his head, raising his arms. "I'm unarmed. I don't mean to cause you any fear what so ever, I just want to.. Want to.."

"Finish the job?" Ian spat. He yanked fiercly at his whip, cracking the tip against the ground. It caused a small sputter of dust to form, and he approached the soldier. "You better start talking. Now. And I'll make it painless."

The soldier gave him a sarcastic smile and folded his arms over his chest, letting his features rest in a sneer. "You don't have the guts, boy. You couldn't kill a damned flea, none the less a human being. I was there when Hanniele made the sacrifice. Not you."

Ian dropped his weapon and took a step back in shock. "Oh no.. You're that.. That soldier?"

"Drakkar. You can at least get it correct, boy." Drakkar shifted his armor, grunting in pain. "A broken rib... Better than I could have hoped."

The younger man nodded, reaching down to pick up his whip from the floor. "What happened here? Is she here? Why?"

"Does the Witch ever need a reason!?" The soldier grunted, and cursed, kicking the dirt. "She's evil! When you went back, she claimed the king was gone? He wasn't! She killed him! She tore his heart out and claimed it was bandits, but she could not fool the beggers and the rest who saw her! The child who died that night, he was the one she sacrificed to the Shiva. He was their token to silence the fools who saw her kill her husband, and threatened the same fate to all their children if they dare breathed a word. He was killed hundreds of years to the exact day you were sent back, and do you know why?"

Ian numbly shook his head. Drakkar continued. "Because she is the epitome of evil, boy. Her world, your world, she wants it all, even if it means wiping every last one of you off the face of it."

He nodded grimly, stepping back. He bumped into a fallen over conder block, and collapsed against it, sitting down roughly. "I don't believe it.. It's because of me, isn't it?"

Drakkar's face fell. He didn't know how to tell the boy that the deaths of the world were going to fall on his shoulders, no matter what he did. "There may still be a way to change this..."

"I don't know how!" Ian cried out. He pushed his palms to his face and shut his eyes, wrapping an arm over his head. "How could this happen? Eight months ago at this time I was in Dollet, with my mother, running away, running away to what? To this? Hyne... If there was a way, I-"

"I don't believe that will be happening."

If snakes could speak, they'd sound like her. The thought made Ian's head race with a fleeting laughter before freezing over with fear. Hanniele stepped fluidly and gracefully towards the two men, her silken skirts sending sinful whispers across her skin. She smiled lovingly, belaying any of the evil that she had caused to the town just meters away. Against the backdrop of light she looked hauntingly beautiful, almost angelic in a firey wave of red hair and emerald green eyes that lit up her elfish face with a child like innocence that denied any wrong doing. She slithered towards them, hauntingly like a mesmerizing ghost, and resting against Drakkar's side.

"You've done well." She purred against him. Roughly he swung against her, and groaned in pain when a small fist jabbed into his broken side. He fell to the ground in a fetal heap, whimpering. "Idiot."

"You evil, cruel bitch." Ian spat. "I oughtta take you out right here and now.."

"One shot, young boy." Hanielle purred. She extended her arms to her sides, and twisted her hips, letting the silk of her dress hush against her legs. "One shot, to the left, or to the right, or to the center. Either way, it'll be the only shot you get, boy."

Rage poured into Ian's veins and he lunged, not with his whip, but with his fists. Within a flash, Hannieled dissipated into a puff of sulfer smoke, choking down the boy's senses and blinding him. Ian sputtered out a curse and flung at the foul smelling cloud, gasping for breath. He didn't feel the lithe, lacquered fingernails driving into his hair and scraping his skull, nor the cool sharp blade at his neck until it was too late.

"You missed." She hissed, as the blade slowly sank in. Ian's scream came out as a gurgle, choking, as blood began to pour from the wound. "It's not nice to play games, boy. Not nice at all."

With that she let him drop, back to the ground, as he struggled to breathe. Kneeling down, she dipped a finger into a trailing line of fluid that poured from the opening, and traced it across her lips before pressing a dainty kiss to his forehead.

"Maybe in another time, or place." She whispered, catching the hatred seething in his mismatched eyes. With a laughter that mimicked the soothing sounds of children at play, she turned on her heel and began her slow walk towards the remains of Winhil, leaving behind two broken souls in her wake.

Drakkar took a deep breath and crawled towards Ian, pulling him up from his crumpled position. He winced in disgust at the wound she made, and reached into his pocket, pulling a potion from its depths and dousing the wound, praying that in some way it would hold until he finally got help. Pulling himself to his feet, he leaned down and gripped Ian by the waist and hoisted him in his arms, refusing to meet his eyes.

"I'm so sorry you had to go like this, kid." He grumbled, shifting the boy's weight. His breathing was low and weathered, near the point of wheezing. "You're alive? Still? Dear Hyne.."

A soft, struggled whisper was heard, and Drakkar looked into Ian's face, and clicked his tongue, shaking his head. Leaning down, he placed his ear close to the boy's lips, listening carefully. "What is it? I have to get you help-"

"..p..please, don't.. l..let me d-die.."

He wished he could answer. The walk just seemed so damned long...

Special thanks to Quis, for being the sweety she is and beta'ing part of this chapter *breathes a sigh of relief*
But! It's almost over! not many chapters to go! HAHA! Yes, this damned thing will almost be done with! Eee! Life is good! GAH!