He was standing in a beautiful forest glade. Before him was a structure that appeared to be woven out the natural wood. It formed an ornate stage and bench that seated four High Wizards in dark robes. They were his judges and apparently he had committed a blasphemous act. He searched his memory. It was hazy but it was coming back to him.

He was researching spiritual energy when he ran into an anomaly. No matter what he tried he failed to get an accurate measure of the energy flow. No matter who he called in the results were always the same. Their connection to spiritual energy seemed to be waning, but by how much? He knew of a device that could read this but it was forbidden. He built one anyway. Now he was here defending himself for his forbidden act.

He was guilty and pleaded so. “What I did was forbidden I know but allow me to explain why.”

“You have the floor.”

“Thank you. I did what I did because I felt it was needed. You wanted me to learn more about Magic and its workings and I have done so. In my studies I discovered a drop in Spiritual Channeling. Our Ancestors wielded great power, yet we can not even come close to what they were capable of. I believe the reason for this my Lords, is Magic is dying.”

A murmur rose up in the gathering around him. Cries of blasphemy rang throughout the crowd. The High Wizards raised their hands and the crowd was silenced. “Marcus, you willingly defied our laws and created a forbidden device; a device which has poisoned your mind. Do you understand the penalty for this?”

“I do. I wish to ask a final request.”

“Very well.”

“If I am to be executed then I wish to leave this world in the land I know so well. I wish to die in Puria.”

The High Wizards granted his request and made preparations for the transfer. It was a simple matter really. One just needed to create a doorway to the other continent. The head wizard stepped up and created an arcane arch. As he concentrated his focus, beads of sweat began to form on his brow and his breathing became heavy. An image appeared in the doorway but it was not the image of Puria. It was the image of the Dellean coast. Now it is important to note that the coast was only fifty miles from their current location. Breathing heavy sighs he gathered his will and increased his concentration. His face began turn red and sweat freely ran down his face due to the exertion. The image faded and after a few grunts the Purian coast appeared. The head wizard collapsed completely exhausted.

Marcus turned to the crowd. “Do you see now? This is our future.”

The murmur in the crowd rose up once again, but there were no cries of blasphemy this time. It was a fearful murmur of an uncertain future. The High Wizards adjourned the court for further investigation. Marcus was told to leave and await their summons. He complied and left the court.

<><><>
He woke up in the familiar room with the two chairs, the old man sitting across from him. He put his hand on his forehead and looked around. On the table next to him sat the book and his empty tea cup. “I don’t understand. What was I supposed to see? How was that any help to me?”

The old man looked at him puzzled. “Why are you asking me? When you stepped through the doors the futures you saw were of your own design.”

“My design?”

“Indeed. The dystopian world you witnessed was everything you see wrong with technology. Yet you feel a need for it so you put your self on trial to justify its use. You’re leery of magic because you yourself are inept with it. Yet you feel dependency will ultimately lead to its disappearance.” The old man stood up. “These doors were not designed to sway you to either side. They were designed to teach you what you already know deep down.”

Marcus was confused. “What I already know? What are you talking about? You said I would see a utopia through both doors. I was to see a future of each world. I saw no such thing through the left door. Where was the utopia?”

The old man walked over to Marcus and poked him in the chest with his cane. “Whose fault is that? Your time in the Wizard world was short because you’re afraid.”

Marcus laughed at that. “Afraid, you jest old man. What do I have to fear about that world?”

“You tell me, I wanted you to envision a utopian world of nature, magic and beauty, but all you could come up with was a trial defending the use of technology and ultimately being sentenced to death. You save yourself however by making the head wizard and most powerful at that, a feeble magic user. You also envisioned them in black robes. Your dislike for your own kind is evident.”

“My own kind?”

“You were born a wizard were you not?”

It’s true he was born a wizard, but he neither liked nor disliked them…right? There was an explanation for this. He didn’t know wizards or wizard culture, so how could he be blamed for what his mind created? That had to be it. How could he know what a wizard utopia would be like when he didn’t even know them? “I don’t hate wizards.”

The old man lowered his head in thought. He placed his hand on his beard and seemed to be mumbling. “I don’t know if he’s ready for that. Are you certain? Very well, we’ll see what happens.” He finished talking to himself then looked at Marcus. “I had hoped to prepare you more but your stubbornness is making things difficult. I suppose you have to learn the hard way. The third door is open. This path will lead you to the Sky Temple. There you will confront many trials as well as face your greatest and most powerful enemy. If you fail, you will die.”

Marcus’ eyes narrowed. He didn’t hate wizards like this man proclaimed, but he was beginning to hate him. He reluctantly accepted and walked through the middle door without a word.

<><><>
As he walked the path through the forest his thoughts were on the old man and all the things he had put him through. Answers are what he wanted yet all he got were more questions. The man spoke as if he knew him, yet he knew nothing about him. No one did. How could he say he was afraid? So what if his magic use bordered on ineptness, it wasn’t as if he had a use for it where he grew up. He certainly didn’t fear it, or so he kept telling himself. His thoughts continued until reached a cave in the side of a mountain. “This must be the way.” He told himself as he entered the cave.

It was a long arduous journey through the caves. They weren’t as dark as the one he’d been in earlier due to shafts of light coming through well placed holes in the ceilings and walls. They were however quite steep, making his climb a tiring one. His legs were sore and his knees ached by the time he reached the top of the mountain. Before him stood the Sky Temple, he craned his neck upward to try and take it all in but it was more tower than temple.

The temple was both there and not there. It had a solid stone base but it appeared as if parts of it were missing or maybe invisible somehow. In fact it seemed to blend in with the sky itself in many parts. The doors mimicked this as he approached them. They were there, yet not there as if made of solid air. He tried to open the door but found it immovable. Out of nowhere a plaque appeared next to the door. Wispy words were written upon it.

The doors is open for those that can see
It is closed for those who can not
Look within to find the key

Flames curled around his feet, the air was boiling, fine strands of red hair rose with the heat, the ends singed by fire. There were many shouts, people dying around him as the houses burned. He heard the cry of small children, turning into horrible gurgling screams as the intense heat reached them. The stomach-churning scent of burning skin and hair rose and twirled around the carnage, heavy smoke choking fleeing people.

Luen was calm. There is a promise of despair here, a hope for everlasting peace. What he had was a power to stop the shouting, the abuse, and worst of all, the neglect of his parents. His mother's corpse smoldered at his feet, the flames caressing his skin, though they did not burn him. His father stood there, in the fire-eaten house, holding the roof up with much of his magic. He was saying something, but the crackle of flames drowned it out.

"Mother tried to burn me alive," Luen whispered. The room shimmered, and for a moment it seemed the flames became golden feathers, and eyes were watching him intently, and he was older... The vision faded. He glared at his father and advanced, small hands outstretched, a tongue of flame sparking into life in each palm. "Will you die with us all, father?"

The windows burst, glass showered the people outside, most of them running from the burning block. At least five houses were on fire, it had come suddenly and many were trapped inside. The neighbor's pet was yowling again, Luen glared, his eyes filled with ancient hatred and annoyance. The cries turned into a sharp long yelp, and the animal was silent. He turned his attention back to the tall man before him, they looked so alike, it was hard to believe the man had wanted to sell him out.

"You won't need to run, or hide, or worry so much anymore, father." Luen's childish voice rose against the crackle of fire. Tears rolled off his face as he spoke, evaporating into nothing in the heat. "No more arguments with mother, no more worries about food, this is the end that best suits us, father. What a happy family we make."

Again the sense of displacement, as if there was an echo in his words, an ethereal voice that sounded older, but intimately familiar. The golden feathers flashed again. A loud crash from above was all the warning he got as the roof finally collapsed, burying his father under a mountain of debris. The flames flared white around him, melting away timber and brick alike. The cheap thatch turned into cinders, sparkling orange and yellow amidst the thick smoke, floating away like faerie's tears.

Luen woke with the sun on his face, bright sunlight was streaming in through the window near his bed. He sat up and looked around; a water basin, a chair, and a small wardrobe was all that he could see in the small attic room. He looked down, his long hair lay brushed against his skin, someone had clipped the ends where it was singed. A set of clean clothes was laid out for him on the chair beside his bed, and a jug near the basin sent steam into the morning air.

"Yer awake then, let me have a look at ye," A rather stout woman had swept into the room without him noticing, and now approached the bed with a business-like manner. She reached out with one pudgy hand, placing it with surprising gentleness against his forehead. It felt cool, and it soothed him. He did not remember anyone doing that before.

"Well, yer a little feverish, but I daresay naught else is wrong with ye." She gave him a broad grin, her apple-red face bulging with friendliness. "Well, I guess we canna say for sure till the healer gets here." She bustled away, always moving and doing something or another. She opened the curtains at the other window and poured some hot water into the basin. "Me name's Sal. What are yer sitting there for kiddo? Chop chop, up ye get, got to meet the rest of the family."

"Yer were lucky to survive that fire, lots more orphans about overnight." Sal shook her head sadly.

The room faded, darkening first into twisting shadows, then given shape by the bright glow of the Phoenix's feathers. Luen looked up, his face streaming with sweat, tendrils of crimson hair hung limp in front of his green-blue eyes. He looked at the entity before him, the heat rolling off in great waves from its burning body.

"The secret..." Luen's voice trailed into a mumble, weariness setting in, his limbs burned, his muscles stiffening. Then it came to him, the strange calm that such situations always forced onto him, a sense of self that was different, acted in ways he would not. It answered for him.

"I fear nothing, the secret is me. We fear the darkness within, the burning hatred and the hungry void, the two forces that drive us to live and run like a wild beast. He turns his face away from me, and I must look upon the dangers we face. Thus we live."

The 'other' Balanced. The Phoenix reared back, puffs of heated air and flame blasted into Luen, but he did not budge. The burning fatigue in his limbs did not seem to concern him anymore, and the hatred that he had thought buried or gone lit bright within, rivaling the Phoenix's intense heat as its gaze bore down on the tiny figure before it.

Then answer me, Luen who is also Munaris,
so named for the fire demons summoned with obscure arts.
Answer me, murderer, sinner, taker of lives.
Answer me, demon child, son of the flames.

What will you do with my power?

The town she lived in was a rather simple one. There were no streets made of stone, in fact there were no streets at all. The path was made of light dirt and dried up grass. Most of the houses where made of wood from strong oak trees that were grown from their own personal graden. The houses didn't grow by height but by width like log cabins.

The people here prefered to be as close to the earth as possible. They did small things from raising farm animals to growing crops and taking walks down the stream. All in all it was a quiet town left on it's own.

With Isola waiting patiently at her side, Kida held her basket close as she felt through a barrel of apples. The first two were bruised, while the third one felt perfect. Bringing it close to her nose, Kida breathed in it's scent and smiled. The smell of fresh apples always reminded her of the good times.

Placing it in her basket, she continued searching while her mind drifted. For a long time she wondered how would she break the news to her family. Would they even understand why she needed to go? Sighing, Kida turned her attention to the direction Isola was standing, "Well now we need some eggs."

A moment of silence passed, "Isola?" Again, nothing. Taking a moment to catch her breath, Kida listened carefully. It wasn't long before she heard Isola's scream of outrage. Keeping her basket close, Kida headed in the direction the yelling came from. For a moment she thought she heard what sounded like an animal in pain. It didn't take long for that to be confirmed as she reached her destination. The sounds of other children yelling and laughing around her sounded unkind, "What is going on here?"

"I-it's horrible! They're beating that poor thing with sticks!" Little Isola ran into Kida's arms and began sobbing.

"Whose beating who, Isola?" Stroking her hair, Kida grew more concerned.

"Oh no! It's that freak from up the hill!" A child screamed causing the others to join in. They pointed and ran from the area in fear, Kida turned her head violently in their direction. The one who spoke out tripped over a rock, scraping his knee badly before getting up to flee again. She frowned before remembering the victim, "Is the person hurt still here?"

With a nod, Isola wiped her nose clean. "Yes, he's here." Grabbing Kida's hand, she led the way to the injured one. They both kneeled down, yet Kida became rather surprised as a big wet tongue touched her face. She could hear the tail thumping on the ground as one paw was placed against her shoulder before it turned it's attention to her apples. Smiling she began feeling her way around the dog's body. He had short hair, a few cuts around his back and only three limbs. "He's missing a leg...?"

"Yeah, that's why those kids were picking on him. They... they said he was a freak like... you." Anger entered Isola's voice, she didn't understand how one could harm another like it was a natural thing. "Can we keep him?"

"Um I don't know." She really couldn't say anything at the moment yet the animal spoke for himself, barking excitedly. "Well, I guess he's answering you."

"Wow, what should we name him?" It was amazing as to how fast her mood changed. Kida smiled.

"How about... Apples?"

Espada sighed. The dawn had come and his stay in the small city was wearing out. As was the way with the Black Market, it was rarely in one place for long. Certainly, informants for him were scattered in towns across the countryside, it was the only reasonable way in which he could hope to keep tabs on the goings on around the country. Beyond that, it gave him an edge that most other marketeers didn't have. While they spent most of their time rooted in on town, his ability to move his entire armory from city to city so quickly allowed to him to cater to clients with more expensive tastes. His contacts also allowed him to be the first to pick up rumors of new supplies.

Espada stretched atop his horse. The only problem with this was that towns weren't exactly near each other. Most were a good number of days away from another town, so it often took weeks for him to get to a new location. On the bright side, each move was a sort of small vacation. With the hustle in the towns themselves becoming so stressful it was rare that he could afford a moment to think of anything other than profits, supplies and services. For the past month, however, most of the duties he took upon himself were entrusted to Sorvez, his number two. Ever since that terrible dream...

"My Liege?"

Espada sighed in frustration, ever since he told Sorvez about his nightmare the man had become stiff and treated him as if he were royalty. It got annoying real fast.

"What is it, Sorvez?

"We've here..."

Espada blinked. He had been so engrossed in his own thoughts that he had forgotten they were making a stop along the way to Alexander. His nightmare had shown a waterfall falling into a deep pool. Soon after the water had turned to blood and corpses began to tumble over the edge of the waterfall. The pool at the base was quickly piled with the dead. Around then Espada had awoken and told Sorvez. Sorvez, being a man of few words and great actions, was surprisingly vocal about Espada's nightmare. There was a place on the way to Alexander that fit the description of the waterfall. Worse yet, it seemed that there was once a small village upstream. WAS because it seems at one point the entire village had been slaughtered and the bodies thrown into the river. The corpses had ended up in the base of the waterfall, much like Espada's nightmare had described.

Of course, with this information, the only logical act was to investigate. Espada was exactly thrilled at the concept, but Sorvez had a way of persuading people.

"Ok. So now what, Sorvez?"

Sorvez, as per usual, was stone silent.

"Thanks," Espada muttered sarcastically as he dismounted. He circled the pool of water around the base of the waterfall. It was as large as some he'd seen before, but it wasn't small either.

Espada turned back to Sorvez, "Have them camp here for the night."

"But my liege, it's barely past noon!"

"I know, but I don't want the animals being encumbered while they just stand idly by. Make camp. If nothing else, we'll spend the night here. At the very least we'll be able to water the horses."

Sorvez nodded solemnly, "Very well." He tugged on his reins and turn to face the caravan, issuing the orders. Espada had already returned his attentions to the waterfall. He stepped forward and gazed downwards, looking at his own reflection.

"What secrets do you hide from me? What do you want from me?"

As if in response, the water rippled, making his reflection shimmer.

Espada turned his back on the pool and moved to assist his caravan with unburdening the animals. His reflection, however, stared at his retreating back.

I cannot be sure why I was given directions to that place. I cannot see how it would have benefited them. Perhaps they didn’t even know what it meant, and they had merely transcribed the directions without knowing what it meant, and the abandoned Tech base could have been just a coincidence.

The entire building was empty of any human life; though it could not have been empty for too long as there was still auxiliary power keeping the priority systems working. The text spoke of an area deep within the earth, so I decided it would be worth the time to explore the area.

The building seemed to have been built into a cavern so I moved in the general direction the cavern would have taken. My theory proved correct when the halls suddenly became tunnels. At the end of the deepest one there was lift. I took the lift to the deepest level, where the power promptly died. There was no response to any method I used to restore the power, or was I able detect anything that could be blocking the power. There simply wasn’t any.

I continued forward, searching as much for answers as I was for a way out.

As I moved deeper, it became obvious that the Tech facility had been built on top of a Temple of sorts. I reasoned that the Temple was one to the dark elements, as while it appeared to be lighted, however slightly, by a dim glow, I realized that it was actually that the darkness was actually negating itself in places, allowing non-light to exist, and stronger in other places, negating the non-light and having a greater affect on any light that might have been brought in. The resulting effect was that, to put it simply, some of it was merely dark, and some of it was black.

There was some script in places on the walls. The presence of the power of Dark in as pure a form as I have ever encountered seemed have a consciousness to it as only certain parts of the scripts were even visible.

The writing on the walls touted the value of friendship; explaining that no world could ever be one so long as it’s people rejected each other. Truer statements have not been made.

Further into the Temple, there rested an alter of sorts. When I touched it, I could feel my own power surge into it, and I was suddenly displaced to an identical alter in a nearly identical cavern, the only and very obvious difference was that there was a dead end behind me and the cavern continued in front of me. I placed my hand back on the alter to no affect, and feeding my power into it resulted in nothing as well and I was left, once again, to progress forward.

Finally I reached a room that, despite it’s apparently small size, I could feel was absolutely massive. The walls, I could tell, where not actually the smooth, sold black substance they appeared to be. In this “room” where three pedestals, and with choices now, I was much more careful to not touch anything until I had made a choice.

The pedestal on the left had inscriptions about wagging war. The glory in ridding the world of your enemies, and the power you could gain from crushing all those around you. Even if I was stupid I wouldn’t have chosen that pedestal, for though I knew the power it spoke of very well, it was not the path I now walked.

The center pedestal spoke of neutrality. The wisdom of standing back and let those who wished to destroy each other do so, and to simply live our your life in whatever world resulted. This pedestal was not for me.

The third pedestal spoke of friendship. The power of joining together for one goal; one purpose, and the joy of knowing you had the support of those around you in whatever you chose. This pedestal is the one I picked, and the one I would have picked even if I had been inclined towards either of the others. It’s words may have been optimistic and idealistic, but it was the goal the Gods had tasked me with.

At the touch of my hand the “walls” receded, retracting into themselves, coalescing into one entity, and revealing the great bands of quartz that refracted light from the surface illuminating the cavern. This entity was of pure darkness; it absorbed all light and therefore seemed as only a silhouette. It removed its cloak, and turned its head, allowing me to see decidedly feminine features in it’s face, though it’s body remained shrouded so I could not be sure if that was truly it’s chosen form.

When it spoke though, this physical embodiment of Darkness revealed it’s self to be female. To the best of my perception she seemed to be beautiful, but how can you really tell when all you can truly see is their shadow?

She spoke to me and asked me questions, “How can peace be achieved?”

“Peace can only be achieved between those that wish for it. For world peace to be achieved, those that do not desire peace must killed.”

“Why not reason with them?”

“Reasonable people desire peace. Unreasonable people can not be reasoned with.”

“What of friendship, then?”

“Friendship can only exist between those with a common interest.”

“What of the balanced?”

“We will be the common interest; a common enemy.”

She seemed to accept my answers. She then presented me with a gift, a gift that may turn out to be more valuable to changing the world than my blade could ever be.

Kida Medealion

The power of Gaia’s soil is a very steady thing. It is both a giver and a taker of life. From the moment one is born, they live on the land. They walk on the soil, they build their homes there, they eat the fruit it bears and they breathe the air created by the plants the soil grows. When their bodies grow old, the force of the earth pulls harder upon them. Skin droops as it longs for that which has nurtured them through their journey of life. As they age further, they grow shorter. In the end, when they finally die, they are buried within the very same soil that gave them life.

When earth is angered, however, it can be a dreadful thing indeed. It will shake with rage, leveling all who dare to trifle with it. It will produce poisons that affect the body in many terrible ways. It will crack open to reveal its very depths, separating whatever lies on the surface. This is the very reason there are separate continents.

Earth, however, can be soothing for those who see things in a different light – or in Kida’s case, no light at all. Blindness, most would say, is a handicap. However, those people have never been blind. Without relying on ones’ eyes, one can see more clearly than most. Hearing, taste, touch and smell are all enhanced, and thus, one can appreciate the other aspects of Earth more than one who can see. Some would say this would bring one even more in tune with the power of Earth.

The trial of Kida Medealion finds her on her own, making her way through an uncertain world. With her enhanced hearing, there is a sound that only she can hear. It seems to be calling her.

The sound and feel of the ground shifts and changes as she draws nearer to the call, and the gentle brush of greenery brushes against her as she moves. As she heads further in, she can hear a door slam shut behind her. She is now trapped within an Earth Temple.

Though blind, the air is filled with smells and sounds that lead the way – though some will lead her astray. Without the use of her eyes, she must use her other senses to find her way through the maze to a back room.

Here is the source of the initial sound. Only now, it is a voice – a voice that speaks directly to her soul.

A riddle is placed before her, one she must solve to continue on her journey. Though solving the riddle brings her even greater problems.

In the back of the Earth Temple, she will have to fight the creatures made of the element she controls – and only with complete control of her element can she defeat them. If she survives, she will hear the things she needs to to make it through her journey alive.


Brian Moui

Fire is universally known as a killer. Of the elements, it is one of the most feared. If it is not used with care, it becomes wild and spreads, destroying everything without even trying. It is the untamed element and it is difficult to control. It takes a certain kind of understanding to grasp fire. Most would call a wildfire little more than a destroyer, but when one thinks about the effects, they would realize that because of the fire, the ground becomes more fertile and more can grow there.

Fire is not just a dangerous element. It is necessary to cook food. It provides much needed heat. It can light the way in the darkest of places. Fire can be kind and gentle if only treated in the right manner.

This being said, fire is a difficult element to master. It is unpredictable and wild at heart. It had not patience nor control. Its wielder must learn to have both, lest they lose control of the very power they are trying to use. However, they must also have a heart that cannot be tamed. To know fire is to know true freedom.

It is important, though, not to become a slave to fire. Much as a soldier is a slave to higher ranking officers, a fire user often becomes a slave to the whims of the emotional fire.

The trial of Brain Moui comes at a time when he is trying to find his own. His life until now had not been entirely his own, and in the midst of trying to find that, he comes across a Fire Temple.

As he approaches, it appears that the temple has been used recently. But upon entering, he can see that no one has made it past the entrance in a very long time. What happened to the others was about to happen to him.

He becomes sealed within the entrance chamber, and as the charred remains within imply, the room becomes ablaze with fire. A voice echoes around the room, taunting the trapped man, daring him to figure out the trick. Do you have control? It asks.

If he discovers the secret, he is allowed access to the main chamber, and in the center is a blue flame. Though it is clearly burning, it seems as if it is frozen in time. What is it there for? What is the purpose?

In the Fire Temple, Brian Moui must find these answers to escape.

A thousand images rose in Luen's mind at the Phoenix's questions. There was so much he could do, they could do. The world was a place of fear and separation now, where sadness and anger ruled supreme in the deepest hearts. Oh, people still lived normal lives, going to work, raising families, and making friends. But there is a secret shadow, a fear of discovery or association with the estranged races. And for the Balanced, the fear is doubled.

He stood on shaking legs and reached out, spreading his arms wide to the flaming bird. His skin peeled from the heat despite his natural affinity for fire, scars darkened and scabbed over, cracking away into ash. He heard the sizzle of singed hair and closed his eyes quickly as the Phoenix grew before him, its golden-red wings spread high, its image burned in searing heat behind his eyelids.

My power is not for the mute, Luen, Munaris. It warned, the reprimand lashed through his mind like flaming rope.

"Phoenix, I cannot answer you in words," croaked Luen, his lips were cracked and throat felt parched. "Take me into the dream like you did before, so that I might show you."

There was silence, then he realized the Phoenix before him was a statue, its flames wrought of layers of finely carved wood. The curling designs seemed to move, making the fire look alive. A man behind him sniffed impatiently and Luen realized he was at a small shrine of some sort, with sandstone walls and familiar looking carvings. As he stood, the impatient pilgrim brushed past him with another pig-like snort.

"Wuts a laddie like ye doin' all alone in ta big world 'en?"

Luen shrank from the voice. The stranger towered over him, his breath stank of spices and the chewing herb favored by some of the merchant folk. With a sinking feeling, Luen realized that he was alone, and for that matter, barely twelve years old. His hair was messy, and he could feel the clumps and tangles dragging against the rough tunic as he moved. Dirt dusted his skin, his fingernails thick with the stuff, turning them grayish. He was hungry, and his wrists looked thinner than they should be.

"What do you want, mister?" he said, sounding braver than he felt, all the while shrinking back from the sly looking man, and tried to shuffle back into the line waiting at the shrine. A few people pushed him and complained about him cutting in. Some made a few comments about the state he was in, mostly with tones of disgust and condescending pity.

"Ya'd starve left 'ere alone laddie. Hows 'bout you 'n' me take a lil' stroll?" He extended an oily, well-sinewed hand. It smelled of animals. The man was probably a trader. Luen studied him a bit better; the man stood over six feet tall, a purplish hat sat crooked on his greased back hair, the lank curls ending around the purple lapels of his suit. Then the man extended his other hand, and this had a small lunch-loaf in it.

The smell of food drove all else from Luen's mind and he pounced on the loaf before it could be snatched away. He ate hungrily, pausing only now and then to take a swig of something sweet from the man's hip flask. Soon the pair had sauntered away from the small throng at the shrine, their feet leaving a set of uneven prints in the mud.

---

Luen woke in darkness, he tried to sit up and yelped as he bumped his head on something that sounded like wood. A chorus of groans and desperate patting on wood followed the thump he made, the sound crowding in from all around him like some strange applause. A scrape of heavy metal came from overhead and though the air did not change, Luen felt sure something had opened above him. A gruff voice shouted for silence, heavy with an accent he did not recognize, then whatever he had opened slammed shut with an an empty echo.

A tapping sound came from his right, making him start. He turned and tentatively whispered, "Hello?"

When there was no reply, he sat back and tried to see in the enshrouding darkness. He was in some kind of wooden box, there was enough room to sit, or lie curled but uncomfortable. He resisted the urge to test the lid, it obviously had been tried before he even woke.

"What's your name?"

The whisper was so soft he could barely make out the words, but it sounded female. "Luen," he replied, not offering anymore. "What's yours?"

"Sarhna."

---

Luen pounded down the street, seeking the docks with a desperate speed borne on fear.

Sarhna was serious about her plan, and while they were in the warehouse, waiting to be moved to where-ever they were sold, they had acted. Sarhna was surprisingly fast with her magic and deadly once she got her hands on a weapon. Luen realized then that she was like him, somehow able to use both Tech and Magic. Though he had to admit, her prowess with Techs exceeded his own many fold.

The traders were shocked to find their merchandise had gone rampant, and it was this shock that gave Luen and Sarhna time to escape. As the doors opened to let in the confused merchants and the purple-coated man, Luen darted forward, his hand a glowing blur as it smacked into the man's face, melting tissue in the brief moment of contact before he ran on. The man's scream trailed behind him as he followed Sarhna.

Then there were Techs. Tall, strong people with weapons superior to the one Sarhna had taken off a guard. She was down, crumpling like a lifeless doll before Luen's feet. He ran then, bolted like a frightened deer, charging for the docks. His fearful eyes had one last glimpse of the warehouse where they were kept.

No one else had moved. He froze and was cuffed hard from behind, pain exploded in his neck as he fell forward in a dead sprawl.

---

Luen stared solemnly through the horizontal slits in the van. His red hair had been cropped short, the mass of tangles too much for any merchant to deal with for the price the Techs paid. One of them mumbled something about the only worth of Balanced when the scissors snipped carelessly around Luen's ears.

Streetlights flashed past, blinding him. As his vision adjusted, he looked back at the other occupants of the van. All wearing gray tunics of a cheap enough make to throw away after their bodies were done with. He turned back to his 'window'. They passed scenes of dilapidation hidden behind facades of shops and civilization, poor houses tucked behind shops and plush apartments, shadowed properties where the sun could never reach. There were people on the streets, seen through squinted eyes they were but decorated blobs of flesh, quivering as if they were melting in a heat wave.

A rage built inside him. It had a voice, and it felt like the cold certainly that rode his mind during times of crisis. It wanted many things. Revenge for Sarhna, it tempted first. Justice for the planet. A scorched grounds to rise anew from the ashes. This place is beyond saving.

But for now, it whispered sweetly. Escape.

---

The van burned, sending huge plumes of smoke into the air, gray and red fronds waving in the wind like feathers. Sparks rose and disappeared, joining the stars in the night sky. There was no screaming, it had all been too sudden, too intense.

Luen left the wreckage and collapsed in an alleyway a few blocks away. His lungs still burned with the smell of tortured metal and burning meat. He retched.

The Phoenix blinked, its flaming eyes losing their luster for a moment, dimming in the exploration of Luen's mind, the hatred that dwelt there, burning as bright as his very soul. It was an all-encompassing hatred of the ruin that had befallen the world. A cry for help that had been left unanswered and now turned into a howl for vengeance. He blamed himself for the personal deaths, he blamed the world for its weakness and its depravity, he blamed the very Goddess for the misfortunes she could not prevent.

Yet two flames there were, and Luen's soul burned with a different brightness. It illuminated the Phoenix's gaze, its golden feathers shimmering in the wavering heat. It was hope born in darkness, a spark that is like the embers of a dying flame, a bright seed for fire. Though smothered by anger and dampened with tears, the flame burned, hoping to see the last good in mortals, preserving his own morality in deeds designed to protect.

In this split mentality, Luen had left some in a state worse than death, but never had he taken the life of another man or woman while there was some semblance of control within him. This the Phoenix understood also. There were two worlds in the future as hoped by Luen Munaris. One, a world filled with ash, ruin, and death. Where a canvas can be dusted of its old works and reborn, all hope perish, all evil ends.

Is the other place not more beautiful? Luen Munaris.

But it was no longer a question in the test. Luen knew, and with that knowledge his strength gave out and he fell, flames brushing his face, burning his hair as he entered the embrace and final judgment of the Phoenix.

There was still daylight despite the feeling of dread in her stomach as she walked through a slightly thick forest. All she had was her canine compainion who never strayed too far, her walking stick and a bag filled with a few days worth of food, money and a spare set of clothes. At this moment, Kida felt as cut off as she could possibly be from human contact. She knew that now was the time for her to be independent and prove to everyone that she would make it.

The conversation with her aunt and uncle was still fresh on her mind. It went as badly as she expected yet regardless of their fears, neither them would stand in her way. A message from the Gods was a message to be respected even if they disagreed with the one choosen for it.

They had always felt she was different, yet they never understood how different. She could still hear Isola's cries of disapproval as she was leaving. The little girl was so angry with Kida that she actually refused to speak to her as she was leaving. This made the trip even harder for her to do.

In the distance she could hear birds singing to each other and water splashing against what could be rocks. Apples was running her in circles; his tongue hanging out dripping drool from time to time. She had to smile. Despite his own handicap and hard left, the dog still managed to be happy. Maybe it was what made animals so special? Their ability to rise above hardships and enjoy their life to the fullest? The simple things were what mattered yet why is a life for a human so... complicated?

Her mind had so many questions yet no answers. She couldn't understand how easy it was for the human race to become so... savage like. The urge to drink became stronger as she neared the stream, Apples now walking next to her. Her fingertips brushed against his fur, she realized her was bigger then an average dog yet this didn't scare her. He was panting but managed to keep a steady pace.

"Poor Apples. It seems like you wore yourself out." She laughed lightly. His response was a lick and a nuzzle against her hand before running off into the direction she was headed. A loud splash caused her to laugh louder at his playfulness.

When she caught up, Kida placed her possessions close to her side before taking her shoes off and placing them in her bag. Her feet ached due to her walking non-stop for three hours. As she edged closer to the stream, Kida could feel a light vibration beneath her and hear a lot of barking. More then likely he was trying to catch fish or other small animals.

Cupping her hands, she enjoyed the cooling effect the icy water had. Splashing her face, Kida was soon drinking it with a bit of greed. It tasted sweeter then any she had before. With her feet in it, she wiggled her toes a bit as small schools of fish swam around them. Lying back, the sun shining on her face, Kida started to feel the call of sleep.

Kida...

She was nearly asleep by now and never noticed the lack of barking or her things now gone.

Kida...!

With a jerk, she sat up and turned her head from the left to the right. The near silence frightened her. "Apples...?"

Nothing. Not the slightest response, no walking, no barking, no panting, no nothing. Yet there was now a buzzing sound in her head, a sound which grew louder with each passing second. Her hands clasped her ears, "Gah..."

Just as quickly as it came, it left. She reached for her things and gasped in shock as she realized they were now missing too, even her walking stick. Was she robbed? Is the robber still there waiting to prey on her? Was she foolish to go out on her own in her state? No, she had to stay calm.

Kida... help me...

Jumping up, Kida spun around with her hands in front of her to block any threats. "W-whose there?" Her heart was practically in her throat by now. No answer. Straining her ears, the girl could hear nothing. A few moments passed.

Help me, Kida...

The voice called out from deep within the trees. Despite her better judgement, Kida took the first step towards the voice. Soon she was lost within the woods, her fear getting to her. It seemed whenever she was frightened or lost, the voice would return with a pained sound. She couldn't help but follow it.

Soon she was going through thick bushes, a few branches tearing at her dress to a clearing. Her bare feet touching something cool and rough. Was it stone? She could feel slight vibrations, yet it would go on and off. There was also barking? Yes, there was barking. "Apples?"

Without thinking, she ran forward. She tripped three times, scrapping her knees and hands yet the sting would not stop her. The barking grew louder before getting further away. "Wait Apples! Don't leave me... alone."

She contined on, her dress a little torn, knees and hands slightly bloody. There where steps in front of her that she practically crawled up due to fear of falling off them. As she reached the top, she held her hands forward and felt for a doorway of sorts. She was sure this was the last place she'd heard his barking.

When she found on, Kida rushed in without thinking and instantly regretted it. A loud and frightening boom was heard as the door closed behind her. She tried the handle yet it wouldn't budge. She banged her hand against the door and screamed for help, yet there was no help. Only her voice calling back for help. Now... now she was truely on her own in a place darker then her own.