As Serge emerged from the tightly sealed room atop Fort Dragonia, fully clothed and looking much more like himself, all that could be heard were the exclamations of his comrades. "Serge!" they both cried in disbelief. True, they had mostly known the young man from Arni as a towering demi-human, formerly known on El Nido as the mysterious and unapproachable Lynx. What followed was a never-ending lesson in pain and futility, until finally the dragons had intervened, and with their guidance Serge sought out the Dragon Tear, the only thing left that could return his soul to its former vessel.

Now here he was, standing before two of the many friends he had procured along the way, a blonde man hailing from the mainland by the name of Norris, and the silver-haired shrine maiden known only as Steena, the person responsible for lending him the now shattered Dragon Tear. After the initial shock of seeing Serge whole once again, Steena looked down to the contents of Serge's left hand. Serge followed her eyes and caught sight of what remained of Guldove's treasure, now a shard and shadow of its former self.

He held it up to Steena with an apologetic look, hoping to garner some forgiveness from the woman whose most prized possession he had destroyed for his own benefit. She simply smiled, however, and said, "It is no surprise it shattered as it did. But you also carry with you the broken Dragon Tear of another world, and perhaps they together hold the secret to the undiscovered Chrono Cross. Yet I sense that you still have unfinished business...." Serge simply nodded his agreement.

"Not only must you retrieve the lost souls that followed you before you lost your way, but you feel an obligation to one in particular. A promise you made, and one you wish to keep. And I have a feeling it will lead us back to Guldove." Serge again solemnly nodded.

------------------------

"You will soon find your missing counterpart…"

------------------------

Silence reigned this day on the secluded island paradise of Guldove. Inside a small tavern on the island, a voluptuous blonde woman rested atop the counter where, on any other given day, she would be serving drinks. But today was a holy day for the demi-humans of the isle, and she rarely received any other customers, so she knew she'd have the whole day to herself.

It had been just over a week since Doc had released her with a bill of clean health. That panther and his friends had beaten her up pretty bad, and she was already tired from fending off those Porre goons when they'd arrived, but in the end they'd helped her. Then one of them told her the truth. The panther was Serge, the blue-haired boy that had come drifting into Guldove on the back of Korcha's boat alongside a blonde girl who'd been dressed scantily in red. Doc had had a hell of a time trying to get her healthy again after he'd found out she was suffering the effects of Hydra poison. She'd had to console him to no end, and his self-deprecation had begun to take its toll on her nerves. But…Serge?

She could barely believe it, and yet she readily accepted it, lending him her most prized possession: a small, broken sapphire stone.

If anything, Porre's troop dispatch had done her some good. It had been too long, she thought, since she'd had a good fight, and that one was nothing short of incredible. The thrill of staving off death by a mere hair's breadth had left her unable to stand for several days. Looking back, however, she realised more and more how impulsive she had been. How she could have been killed as a result of her own arrogance. Then again, she had nothing to stick around in this life for anyway. Except, perhaps, for just one thing.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a loud crash from the nearby docks. She hopped to her feet, wary that Porre may very well have returned. Rushing out the door, she shielded her eyes from the bright sun and stared in the direction of the docks. What she could barely make out were three figures tumbling about inside Korcha's small boat (having, until now, long since disappeared from Guldove with Korcha's Ma) in a vain attempt to bring the little sailboat alongside the docks and tie her up. One figure was suddenly thrown overboard amidst the confusion, and Orlha sacrificed the shield over her eyes in order to clutch at her stomach, which was now aching from her boisterous laughter.

As Orcha stood on the bottom of the sea, his various cooking accessories, not to mention his unusually large girth, keeping him on the bottom of the normally shallow harbour, he began to worry. He had not counted on high tide, or he might have been more careful. As he began to struggle in a vain attempt to reach the surface, mere inches above his head yet still so far away, a hand gloved in thick leather and bright steel thrust itself into the water, followed shortly by another. Soon, a steel buckler, attached to one of the arms below the elbow, began to sink its way into the water as the hands groped deeper.

Orcha quickly grabbed hold of his saviour, and was slowly but surely lifted to the surface, where he gasped in the air in gulps as his mouth reached the world above the salty brine beneath him. He looked up at his rescuer, a young man in dull bronze armour, his spiky blonde hair blowing into his bright blue eyes.

"ThankCHA, Glenn," Orcha managed. "I'd 'a' sunk for sure if CHA hadn't helped me."

"Think nothing of it, Orcha. You would undoubtedly have done the same for me." And so, with the help of Serge, who had somehow managed to tie the ship down astride the docks, Glenn pulled the cook from his near grave. The three disembarked from the boat and turned to each other in a huddle. Glenn and Orcha both turned to Serge. "So, Serge, what is it that you wished to do here?" asked Glenn. Serge reached into his pocket and pulled out half of a small blue sapphire stone, noticeably broken at some time in the past.

Serge looked up, past the other two, to the buildings of Guldove in the distance. Before them, all three could see a young woman, now cautiously approaching them. "Who is that?" Glenn asked, turning back to Serge. Serge simply flipped the stone in his hand over, revealing a small silver heart implanted firmly in the stone. The inscription was clear: 'Orlha'.

Orlha held up her hand again in another vain attempt to shield her eyes from the sun, but still she could only make out three silhouettes, all obviously men, one having obviously indulged in Squid Gut Pasta once too often. She approached cautiously, still fearing a repeat arrival of troops from Porre. She balled her other hand into a tight fist, ready to strike at a moment's notice. The three turned to face her, making it clear to her that she'd been spotted, yet none made any movement in her direction.

One, the fat one, looked almost familiar, the hat atop his head revealing he was some sort of chef. Another, the tallest of the three, appeared to almost shine in places. He gripped the hilt of a sword hanging around his waist with a free hand, yet he appeared to make no motion towards the one slung across his back, this blade's true shape hidden by the thick cloth wrapped around it. The third looked almost comical, with his pirate style bandana and his floppy, oversized boots. This one began to wave at her, and gradually she could make out the form of…

"Serge!" she cried, now running towards the trio. She stopped just short of crashing into Serge, halted by the object he held up to her. Her sapphire, still broken, dropped into her waiting hands. She smiled blissfully, her mind drifting to a far off time. Abruptly pulled back to reality by the sound of someone clearing their throat, she turned to her left, coming face to face with an armoured young man, obviously from the dragoons in Termina, who waited patiently as she gave him her full attention.

"Serge would like your help." Glenn stated, ever frank. "He knows he made a promise to you, and wished to keep it. Now he would like to know if you still feel that you can do the same for him. If not, we all accept that. But if you'll still help him, Serge would like to know." Orlha turned to Serge, who simply nodded, as if to verify everything Glenn had just said.

"Why of course, I'd be delighted to help any way I can. I mean, I already know what's going on, you told me once. I can't just sit back and let everything go to Hell without trying to stop it, can I?" Serge's expression quickly turned to one of confusion, and he slowly shrugged his shoulders. Orlha, too, had become puzzled by Serge's reaction, and both turned to Glenn, who again cleared his throat.

"Serge, I believe she was being rhetorical."

------------------------

That night the four had decided to bunk down in Guldove before moving on, Serge and company having arrived late in the day. Orcha had expressed a wish to stay for some time, and so Serge was more than happy to let him go about his personal business on the island for as long as need be. There were, however, some reports the next morning of hearing strange noises that night from the residential towers, almost like the clash of cookware, and Macha's easily recognisable screams. No one had ever dared approach Macha willingly when they had been forewarned that she was in a bad mood, so all on the island seemed to take the mysterious events in stride. There were, however, consequences to the noise.

With himself and Serge staying with Doc for the night, Glenn had awoken, strangely enough, moments before the aforementioned screams reverberated across the island. He certainly could not return to sleep now, and so resolved to prepare himself for the next day's journey ahead of time, seeing what shops around the island might be open at this time of night. Never being caught unprepared, Glenn left the hut fully suited and ready for battle, something his older brother had taught him to always do. He would often feel out of place without his armour anyway.

He had quickly realised upon joining the dragoons that, without proof of your membership, the populace was quick to suspicion whenever you tried to help them out. He never knew what caused such suspicions, and he had always assumed that helping others was a natural thing to do, like breathing. Yet whenever he was caught out of uniform, Glenn always seemed to cause harm instead of prevent it. Like when he had tried to help the young woman who ran the tavern in Termina…

------------------------

A group of merchants had just sailed into Termina's harbour with a shipment of Dragon's Glory for the town. Having already tapped into some of the shipment themselves, the merchants were loud and lewd. They quickly planted themselves inside the nearby tavern, delving further into the drink. Glenn could hear them from the street, taunting the poor tavern owner with catcalls, demanding that she speed up her already rushed service. The merchants were causing a ruckus, so Glenn entered in the hope that he might calm them down. He had not thought to bring anything with him other than the bare minimum of clothes. After all, what danger could be had when visiting your father's grave?

Glenn entered only to catch sight of one of the rowdy lot grabbing the owner by the arm as she leaned over to serve the next round of drinks. Glenn quickly grabbed the man, pulling him from his seat. The man, lost in a drunken stupor, was easily expelled from the tavern. Glenn had barely managed to yell over the other merchants' objections, telling them all to calm down and be more appreciative of the fine services found in Termina. They had jumped him, but he made short work of them. Had they not been so plastered, he might not have been so lucky.

By this time the owner of the bar was left alone in her own tavern. Having been knocked to the floor, she now sat speechless in a puddle of booze. Glenn quickly re-entered the tavern after casting the merchants out and rushed to the woman's aid, taking her arm and lifting her from the floor. Glenn began brushing the dirt from one of her sleeves as the tavern owner recomposed herself, only to find himself assaulted by a loud yell of "Idiot!"

Glenn took a step back, his ears ringing from the scream. Before he could recover, the tavern-owner was beating him over the head with her serving tray in an attempt to get him out of the tavern, which she quickly did. As Glenn skidded into the streets, the woman yelled at him further. "Those were my best customers in weeks! What do you think you're doing, ransacking MY bar and kicking out MY customers?! Then, of all things, you come back just to cop a feel! Have you no shame?! I've half a mind to call for a dragoon! They'd haul your sorry ass off to prison for what you did!"

Glenn tried to apologise, but only got as far as "Ma'am, I--" before the door slammed in his face. "I am a dragoon," he finished, more to himself than anyone else.

------------------------

Glenn suddenly realised he'd been slowly drifting, much the same way his thoughts had. Finding himself outside Guldove's only tavern, he was surprised to see light flooding across his feet, pouring out from the space below the curtains that acted as the entryway into the tavern itself. Though the situational irony was lost on Glenn at the time, he later realised that maybe entering the bar had less to do with his insomnia and more to do with his mood.

Lifting the curtain aside, he was shocked to see the tavern empty but for the pig-tailed blonde behind the counter, methodically wiping the grit from various mugs with her well-tanned arms. Without turning around, she greeted Glenn with a casual "Howdy stranger. What can I do for you?" Glenn slowly approached the bar without replying, his thick boots making the wooden planks along the floor creak and groan with every step.

Orlha suddenly stopped wiping the mug. Her face became hard and emotionless and she gently placed the mug down in the sink in front of her. Hearing the stranger sit down at the bar, every muscle in her body tensed. 'Only my regulars are in this late,' she thought, 'and they never come in quietly. Even Doc wouldn't do this. Whoever's here means business.'

Glenn took a seat at the bar directly behind Orlha. At a loss for words and afraid of interrupting her chores, he simply sat silently, waiting for her to turn around and perhaps give him the opportunity to speak. Having only known this woman for a matter of hours, he was anxious to learn how Serge had gotten hold of that blue stone that had made her face light up. He wanted to learn what that stone was, and why it mattered to her. He was also anxious to know whether she stood a chance.

Serge had told her what was going on around them, but she hadn't fought with them yet. He'd been to Hell and back, it seemed, fighting alongside Serge. He knew it would only get worse, so to think that they were drawing in anybody who could not protect themselves would haunt him for the rest of the journey. He had strongly objected to Riddel offering her services to Serge, though she had done so long before he'd had the chance to object, and Glenn had only let Marcy continue in their company because he knew she could fight, the fact that she outranked him notwithstanding. This woman before him, however, left him unsure. She didn't look as if she'd last long outside this small village. And he could only protect her for so long.

As Glenn, spilling over with questions, struggled to find the right one to start with, Orlha had her own ideas, and slowly leaned forward on the sink. Just as Glenn lifted his head to speak, Orlha jumped from the floor and, using her hands on the sink, thrust both of her feet outwards behind her, striking Glenn right in the face and sending him careening across the bar. Glenn landed on top of one of the tavern's tables, crushing it beneath him. Through his blurry vision he could barely discern a woman standing over him, her gloved hands held up to her mouth in shock, before finally slipping out of consciousness. It was, at the very least, an abrupt end to his insomnia.

------------------------

Glenn groaned softly as he awoke on the floor of the small sailboat that had once belonged to the ferryman Korcha, and was now adrift somewhere in the El Nido Archipelago. He rolled his head to one side and looked towards the horizon. He caught sight of the S.S. Invincible before a hand clutched his chin and pulled his face back abruptly. Suddenly his vision was filled with the face of Serge, hovering over him with a look of worry.

Half-heartedly tending to the sails behind Serge was the blonde woman by the name of Orlha who had so recently mistook him for a ruffian out to assault her. She leaned attentively over Serge's shoulder, staring at Glenn. "Is he all right?" she asked, innocently enough. Serge turned to her, a grin spreading across his face, and nodded quickly. A wave of relief overcame Orlha as she turned back to the sails. Glenn sat up and turned to Serge, now kneeling beside him. "Where are we?"

From Serge, through Orlha, Glenn quickly learned that they were off to Opassa Beach. Karsh had apparently been busy in both worlds, recovering a precious stone that Riddel had once planned to wear on her wedding day, which eventually led him to, on a hunch, a small island just east of Viper Manor. He had reportedly found something of extreme consequence, but refused to comment further, saying it was a surprise. Karsh and Sir Radius were awaiting their arrival on the small island, with Riddel and the two other Devas due to meet them en route. Today he could rest, leaving the sailing up to Serge. Tomorrow, he'd get to see this "surprise".

In his poor physical state, Glenn had forgotten about his most important possession. He looked frantically for it, twisting his head left and right. Serge, noticing his comrade's distress, simply pointed behind the dragoon to where the object lay. The unidentifiable blade, still wrapped tightly in heavy rags, sat right behind the dragoon. Glenn turned and pulled it towards himself slowly, almost afraid that the thing would turn to dust at his very touch, and slung it across his back as he always did. As Arni Village came into sight on the horizon, he was anxious to know exactly what Karsh was leading them to.

Now inside a different world, a world that seemed to abhor his very existence, Glenn sat aside the woman who had, only yesterday, sent him flying halfway across a bar with the heels of her boots. One thing he had learned all too quickly was that she would not need protecting. As he stared at the floor of the blue dinghy, her voice caught him by surprise. "What's that on your back?" Looking up, Glenn could see the woman's fierce glare stuck on the package slung over his back. Glenn had not been very outward about what it was, and was not about to change his attitude.

"Nothing," he replied.

"Looks like a sword," she said. So, Glenn thought, she was smarter than she looked.

"How did you know?" Glenn asked.

"I can tell by way it hangs around your shoulders. The weight distribution and the shape mean it could only be a sword, and one with a particularly large hilt, I might add. Something pretty old, since they don't make swords that big anymore, but definitely light for its size, though still heavier than any blade you'd find today."

"Whoa," was all Glenn could muster after having been taken to school by this arrogant looking yet suggestively dressed barmaid. "How, how do you know all of that?" he asked as his stare drifted once again to the floor of the boat.

"I see a lot of things, working in a bar, travellers not being the least of them. And they bring a lot of things with them. I've been shown blades all from all over the world. Something about men with swords, they always carry it with them and show it off whenever they can, bragging about how big it is. They have to name it, and they whip it out in front of you and show it to you. Then they ask you if you want to feel it, and they tell you all about it...."

Orlha trailed off in the hopes that she might get Glenn to say something, anything, but the knight simply stared out to sea. Serge wasn't talking, and Glenn hadn't said much since waking up. As a bartender, she was used to listening to people, being the open ear when they had problems. On this small boat, she was the one who had to start the conversations. It was unsettling. "Why don't you show me yours?"

Glenn suddenly sat up straight and turned to face her, a wide-eyed expression on his face. "What?"

"Oh come on, don't be shy, I'm sure it's nothing to be ashamed of. Look, I'll take it out, then, and look at it myself, if you don't mind. I promise I won't swing it around too much."

As the blood visibly rushed to Glenn's face, Orlha began to reach for Glenn's lap. Glenn, too stunned by her double-entendres to mount a defence, sat helplessly as he watched Orlha's gloved hand wrap around his sword's hilt. Orlha pulled the sword hanging around his waist from its sheath, standing up as she did so. As she hefted the blade, its silver sheen glinted in the sun. She held it up to her eye, looking down its length, before taking a few practice swings.

Serge, seated in the back of the boat steering the three to their destination, laughed as Orlha clumsily waved the blade around over her head. Orlha offered the hilt back to Glenn, shrugging as she did so. "Looks good," she said in a nonchalant manner. "It'll dull easily, but the rust won't hit it unless you're really careless. Seems like one of the Acacia Dragoon standards made in Termina, a little easier to handle, maybe. You obviously care for it well though, because the blade doesn't look half as old as the hilt feels. That sword has to be at least a decade old."

He was stunned. In truth, Glenn had received the sword from Dario once his brother had inherited the Einlanzer. Glenn trained with it, and the sword had undoubtedly saved his life on more than one occasion. She was right about its origins, having been made by Zappa especially for Dario soon after the blacksmith's retirement from the dragoons.

Glenn stood up to sheath the sword, but masked how impressed he was at her knowledge. She wasn't finished, however. "But," she added, "the sword on your back is at least a hundred times better, judging by its thickness and length." With this, she was also completely correct. With a sigh, Glenn seated himself. He couldn't possibly show her what was under the cloths, especially now.

Orlha, unimpressed by the fruits of her effort to elicit a response, frowned. She had pulled out her big guns, and still received no sign of small talk from either of her two companions. She was almost beginning to miss the incessant whining of the demi-humans in Guldove's tavern. Almost. Having surrendered to a trip of complete silence, she slumped down in the seat beside Glenn and heaved a heavy sigh.

That was when it dropped to the floor of the boat, bouncing across the dinghy's floor. The little blue stone that Serge had given Orlha on his return to Guldove jumped out of her pocket and landed at Glenn's feet. As Glenn leaned over to pick it up his thoughts were flooded with all of the questions his sleep-depraved mind had encouraged him to ask the barmaid the night before. Orlha, noticing what Glenn was reaching for, lunged forward and plucked it right out from underneath his hand, managing a weak "Oh, that's mine." Orlha quickly tucked it back in her pocket and turned away from Glenn, towards the open sea.

Again she turned her back to him, leaving Glenn questioning whether he should even bother. It seems even when he sported his heavy uniform, he could turn an attempt to help into a bad situation. Glenn, bolstered by their common interest in well-forged steel, decided, in an effort to loosen lips and ease tensions, to try something he hadn't ever tried before. Speak first. After all, he would be travelling with this woman, so why not make it easier for both of them?

The thickly wrapped blade landed roughly in her lap, causing Orlha to almost jump out of her seat were it not for the package now planting her firmly in it. "I suppose you might call it a gift from my father." Glenn said, gently restraining her wrists as Orlha started to unwrap the rags hiding the sword's true form. "I...can't let you see it, I'm afraid. It would make things...awkward." Orlha simply chuckled.

"What, is this old thing so rusted that you're afraid you'll look bad? Poor little Glenn didn't tend to his sword, and now he has to hide it or he'll be upstaged by a girl?" Orlha continued to chuckle, but as she looked up into Glenn's face she saw an expression of dead seriousness.

"You might say that," was all he would divulge. Orlha decided against any further jokes, simply lifting the package with her hands.

"It's so light," she exclaimed.

"It's made from a material that can't be found anymore," he stated. "Dreamstone."

"Really?!" Orlha cried, almost too loudly, as she dropped the tightly wrapped sword into her lap. This grasped Glenn's attention further, causing him to glare intently at Orlha as she quickly turned her face towards the ground, hiding from his stare. "I guess you're surprised I even know what that is. That's because my brooch is made from the same sort of stuff." Now it was Glenn's turn to be surprised, and his eyes widened noticeably as he turned himself in his seat to better face Orlha and listen to the forthcoming explanation.

"Well, not exactly the same stuff. It's not that old. But it's been said that, long ago, when it was still naturally formed, Dreamstone would occasionally surface in very cold areas, causing it to harden into this sort of blue stone." At this, Orlha pulled the broken sapphire from her pocket and showed it to Glenn. "This is what it turns into. It loses a lot of what makes it great for swords when it changes this way, but it loses none of its beauty." Orlha lifted the blue stone, holding it between her face and Glenn's.

Using it to mask half of his face from her sight, she couldn't help but notice the similarity his visible eye had to the colour of the stone. Both the stone and his eye seemed to have a story beneath them, of hope and pain, yet their beauty never faded. With that, they were both jolted as the boat grounded itself on a beach at the edge of a small island. With the main island of El Nido looming nearby, another boat, carrying Zoah, Marcy, and Lady Riddel, soon joined them. Together, the six of them entered the thick forest of the small island, their only guidepost a thin wisp of smoke rising from somewhere in the centre of the woods.

------------------------

As they approached the small wooden cottage, they could see a pair of red eyes quickly glance out the window, then hide away again. Suddenly Karsh stood at the front door of the cottage, holding the door wide open. "You guys will never believe what we found!" Then Karsh, followed by Radius, exited the cottage and walked down the steps, ushering the rest of them up into the cottage. With the eight of them, not to mention the cottage's owner, all inside, it was cramped. But no one took notice. It was the tenth occupant that grabbed everyone's attention. Dario.

It all happened so fast Orlha could not keep track of what went on. Suddenly, she was in the company of people of legend that she had only heard spoken of in a soft whisper, the likes of the great dragoon Radius, and the Devas Karsh, Zoah, and Marcy. Then they called the man Dario, the legend himself, who somehow still lived in this world, much to the surprise of herself and everyone around her.

It all quickly descended into madness, and people were running everywhere, yelling at her, or at someone else, but none of the words made it to her ears. It was as if she had floated out of her body and was watching the entire scene from outside of it. One thing that did make it through was Glenn's only response to the madness. "No, I have finally found my brother. There is no way I can fight him!"

This is what had been hidden behind his eyes: his noble blood, his destiny with the dragoons, and his place in history as son and brother of the two greatest dragoons to ever live. Somehow, she stumbled outside and into the forest surrounding the cottage, where she fell to the ground and simply sat there for some time, clutching her head to help keep it from spinning. She could see what was left now.

The Masamune had descended upon the cottage, and suddenly fear gripped the hearts of everyone inside. As Dario clutched the sword, an evil smile on his face, the ghostly form of Garai had appeared, looming over Dario. Then the reality set in, and everyone could hear what Dario was repeating over and over. "Riddel! My blade will sate itself on your blood!" The Devas had quickly stepped in, thinking the three of them could surely best their counterpart. Boy, were they wrong.

Zoah had moved first, only to be tossed aside by a glancing blow. It hit his armour, sparse at it was, but sent him flying through the wall of the cottage. Marcy had rushed after him, afraid he'd been killed, while Karsh, suffering numerous wounds all over his body as he attempted to fend off Dario's relentless swordplay, was dragged to safety by Serge, the blue-haired hero having also been knocked around as Zoah had been thrown past him.

Riddel, Radius, and Glenn quickly rushed outside the cottage, but Dario was not far behind. Radius and Glenn motioned to form a protective wall between Dario and Riddel, weapons drawn, but Dario simply stopped and stared at them, mere metres away.

Afraid to make a move, Radius and Glenn held their ground. Suddenly, a burst of the dark essence that now permeated Dario's very being blew forward, aimed at Riddel. Both former and current dragoon stepped into the blast, shielding Riddel from it.

Glenn struggled against the evil power but fought through the blast, his chest heaving with the heavy breathing required for keeping up such exertions. Radius, however, had neither the advantage of youth nor of health, and collapsed in a heap, unable to move. Now Glenn and Riddel slowly backed up, Dario moving ever closer to his intended prey.

By this time, Orlha had gotten her wits about her, and was rushing towards Dario alongside Serge. Serge suddenly became a blur as, with an incredible burst of speed, he rushed at Dario head on. Dario brought about a parry to Serge's attack, and held him at bay with relative ease. As Serge continued to struggle against Dario's power, Orlha leapt at the man, poised for a strong kick to his head. Dario, however, was not as susceptible as his younger brother had been a mere day before, and brought his free hand up, grabbing Orlha's ankle and deflecting her attack so that he now held her upside down by the foot.

Orlha pounded her fists against Dario's bright armour in a vain attempt to return the favour, but by this time Dario had the upper hand, knocking Serge out with a thrust from the butt of the Masamune. Not far away, Glenn and Riddel continued to slowly creep backwards, though they were both visibly shaking. They tightly clutched their weapons, all which stood between them and a madman on the warpath. "What shall we do, Glenn?" Riddel quietly asked her protector. "We have no way of defeating him, but he must be stopped. I cannot stand to see our friends strewn about in this place without retribution or escape. Yet...it is Dario."

"I understand," said Glenn in a weak but steady voice. "I, too, could not fight Dario, were it to come to that. He is my brother, my hero, and to think that I would be facing him in battle…I—"

"Do not say it, Glenn," was Riddel's immediate reply. As they continued to slowly back away, Dario casually tossed Orlha aside, leaving her sprawled on the ground. Turning to face Glenn and Riddel, Dario just managed to catch Glenn's quick glance in both Serge's and Orlha's direction. A momentary redirection of his stare, it was all Dario needed.

Dario first walked over to where he had disposed of Orlha. At this, Glenn clutched his sword tighter but remained otherwise motionless. Riddel, however, began to back up steadily from Glenn, her eyes growing wide as she stared at Glenn's back. Orlha, now in a bad way, rolled over on to her back just in time to see Dario bring the tip of the Masamune slowly down to her throat. Dario, his eyes still fixed on Glenn, yelled out to his brother.

"Little Glenn! I see it in your eyes! You know that all I want is Riddel, so why not leave her to me? If you do, I may be distracted long enough for you to gather whom you can and leave this place. If not..." with this, Dario turned to face Orlha "one by one all but you and Riddel shall die!" At this, Glenn swallowed hard, despite his throat being completely dry.

He could hear nothing. He lost all awareness of his surroundings. All he could see was his brother, whom he had admired all his life, even in death, holding a sword at the throat of a friend, as if he himself were facing down the length of that evil blade. Yet Dario's expression was gradually changing from one of clear superiority to one of curiosity. Only two words were able to reach Glenn, both screamed from Riddel's mouth.

"Your back!" Riddel cried, and Glenn looked over his shoulder at her, now much farther away than he remembered. Soon, another voice came through, this one soft and soothing, without gender or age, without emotion or source. It said but one sentence and then disappeared forever. It said: "Take hold, young man, for evil shall still rue this day!"

Fireworks went off inside Glenn's head, telling him what he had wanted to hear for so long. So with that knowledge, Glenn took the sword he held in his hands and threw it at Dario as hard as he could. Dario brought up his blade and easily knocked the projectile aside, breaking the sword in two.

"And so you destroy that, my last memento of the kind and loving Dario I once knew," Glenn cried. "Now there is nothing left but this hate-filled man I see before me." Glenn, kneeling on the ground, unwrapped the heavy rags covering what had for so long been slung across his back. Beneath it, the unknown sword glowed, the glow becoming more and more prominent as the rags slowly disappeared. As Glenn unravelled the rags, he remembered what a smarmy little fortune-teller had once told him.

He was the moon, with no light of his own, only able to reflect the sun. Now, the sun that was Dario had sunk from sight, leaving nothing but darkness in its wake. Into that darkness he now entered, the moon, the guidepost to those that are lost. And so his brother was now lost. He would now be forced to guide them all back to the sunlight, reflecting the light that had once been solely Dario's to give. He picked up the ancient Dragonian blade, now exuding a pale blue glow, and held it pointed at his brother, ready for battle.

"Crush his will," was all the voice told Dario. "He can't wield it without the will to do so! Crush his spirit! Start with her!" At this, Dario looked down at the blonde woman at his feet, shaking with fear but still glaring at him, growling through clenched teeth. Drawing his blade back to strike, Dario did not hear Glenn's ringing battle cry, nor see the sacred Einlanzer fly up to meet the Masamune halfway down to Orlha's prone body. Now Glenn and Dario stood side by side, Dario pushing down on the Masamune, Glenn lifting up with the Einlanzer.

The swords began to crackle with energy, the noise growing louder the longer they embraced. Glenn leaned back and thrust himself sideways, his body check throwing both swordsmen off balance but ending the stand off. Now the two brothers stood before each other, equal foes, their swords slowly rising before them. Meeting in the centre, the tips of the blades gently brushed against each other.

A few seconds of stillness were followed by the screams of both men as they violently unleashed blow after blow against each other, each strike blocked, each thrust parried. Bringing the Masamune down from over his head, Dario narrowly missed Glenn as the younger brother hopped back, just out of the evil blade's reach. Swinging his sword upwards in response, Glenn's attack sent a shockwave rippling though the surrounding forest as the Einlanzer once more locked with the Masamune. Dario, aiming the tip of the Masamune at his brother's neck, rammed his sword forwards. Glenn, with a smart shift of weight, cast the blow aside with his own blade, retaliating with a spinning slash that Dario narrowly avoided. Finally the two had each other bested; both men drove forwards, pushing against the crossed blades in front of them as their faces drew so close together their noses nearly touched. It was at that time that Dario whispered to Glenn the words that would change the course of events that fateful day, though neither knew it at the time.

"Maybe after I kill Riddel," Dario began, motioning towards a stricken Orlha as he did so, "maybe I'll just leave the blonde for later. Have my way with her. What do you think? Would you like to watch, Glenn? I could keep you alive for that. Yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you? I'll bet she squirms, that one. What fun." Dario abruptly shoved Glenn back with his free hand, watching as his brother stumbled backwards and fell to the ground on one knee. Dario brought back the Masamune for the final blow. Taking advantage of Glenn's weak position, Dario swung the Masamune down towards his brother's head. Dario heard Riddel scream, and as the sound of metal ripping through metal and tearing flesh reached his ears, he assumed the best.

As he looked down, Dario saw that he had indeed reached flesh, but not nearly as much as hoped. For there, beneath the blade of the Masamune, knelt Glenn, shielding his face with his lifted arm. The evil blade had gone right through the buckler on Glenn's arm and a short way into the flesh and bone beneath as several rivulets of blood ran down the length of the Masamune and fell to the ground. "What is this?!" Dario cried in disbelief. "My blade should have ripped you in two!"

As Dario spoke, Glenn began to glow the same pale blue hue as the Einlanzer, just as his brother glowed with the dark, fearful aura of the hated Masamune. As he looked into his brother's eyes, Dario saw something he had not seen since his brother was still a temperamental child: pure, unrestrained anger. So in turn, Glenn saw in his brother's eyes something he had never seen there ever before: fear.

Glenn rose to his feet, making sure to keep his buckler always between himself and his brother's sword. Finally on his feet, Glenn twirled in place, a blur of bronze and a glint of steel the only visual evidence that Glenn had suddenly brought his blade 'round in a spinning slash, sending the Einlanzer tearing across the length of his brother's chest. The holy blade cut right through Dario's armour, sending Dario stumbling backwards under the force of the blow. As blood began to spill out from underneath his armour, Dario again lifted the Masamune over his head, this time slicing down through the air and sending a crescent blade of dark energy flying towards Glenn. Glenn, still glowing, did not move.

The dark energy struck him, sending up a great burst of wind, but the attack dissipated as soon as it touched him. "You once taught me the use of that attack, brother," Glenn said. Glenn glowed brightly as he brought his blade across the length of his body and seemingly hugged himself tightly. "Now, I will teach its proper use to you!" With this, Glenn uncurled his body and sliced lengthwise across the air in front of him, sending out another crescent blade of energy, this one bright blue. It struck Dario with such force that the knight was blown back right into the wall of the cottage that had sustained so little damage compared to the people around it. Dario fell to the ground amidst a hail of splintered wood, and as he lay flat on his face the evil Masamune, now torn from his grip, tumbled to the ground beside him with a dull thud.

With the chaos that again ensued, Orlha could barely keep track of what happened. After Marcy had helped Orlha to her feet the little girl had rushed off, trying to tend to the wounds of others. Orlha stumbled around briefly, occasionally feeling a shot of pain when she put weight on her feet a certain way or bent her body too far in one direction. All things considered, she seemed to herself to be rather well. She could hear various shouts, some of joy, others of pain, and yet more of disbelief. She discovered later that this was Serge assuming his new role as the Masamune's keeper, but for now she just needed to make sure that the people she couldn't see in her immediate vicinity were still alive. What had happened to that man that attacked them? She couldn't see him! She did not see Glenn anywhere, either! What had happened to him?! She remembered he had narrowly saved her life, but could recall nothing after that.

Orlha stumbled about until, oblivious to her surroundings, she reached the partially demolished cottage, resting against it for support. Then she saw them. Dario still lay in the spot where he had fallen after the fight, now on his back, and the former Deva seemed to be struggling for words as his brother, Glenn, now kneeling beside him, clutched Dario tightly to his chest. As Glenn hugged his brother, oblivious to the blood continuing to pour from his arm, tears streamed down his cheeks. From this sight Orlha quickly turned away as tears welled up in her eyes. She pulled her little blue gem from her pocket and clutched it tightly to her chest.

------------------------

After she had accompanied her many companions and friends in Serge's unprecedented storming of Chronopolis, Orlha felt long overdue for a rest. Secure in the knowledge that the dragons had played them all for fools, Serge had been distraught and overcome with grief. It was understandable. Serge had led them all this far only to find that he himself had been led all along. Leaving Chronopolis without direction, she was with Serge as he ran their ship aground near his home, Arni Village, where they had stayed for a few nights. Serge resolved to go visit Kid as she slept under the watchful eyes of Radius, and he had requested to do so alone. Orlha, intrigued by the idea of a whole other world, had stayed behind on El Nido's central continent as Serge took off for Radius' hidden burrow with the hopes of formulating a further plan along the way.

Booking passage to Guldove, Orlha was curious to know how her other self had managed the tavern there, anxious to learn anything useful for the improvement of her trade. No sooner had she arrived than Doc had met her and asked to speak to her privately. It seemed that her arrival on the island had created quite a stir. Inside his small hut, Doc told her what she had been both looking forward to and dreading her entire life. Her sister was here, in this world. Tia was alive. Tia was also dying.

A few minutes were all Orlha had received. She had begged Tia not to leave, to open her eyes one more time. Then she'd wept unabashedly, letting go of her sister for the second time in her life. Unable to sleep, fraught with sadness, she'd sat aside the bed that had once cradled Tia's frail body. She'd held her own blue gem up to the window, letting it sparkle in the moonlight, but at the same time, out of the corner of her eye, she had noticed another sparkle, this one coming from the bedside table. She then reached over and picked up a blue gem almost exactly like her own.

She had then held both stones aloft and, almost against her will, had placed the new gem alongside her own. They'd locked, as if they had at one time been two parts of the same whole. Yet, when she had tried to pull them apart again, she found she could not, but rather that they had bonded, reformed into a single gem. How it had happened, she didn't know, nor did she have time to think it over. Tia was suddenly speaking to her, Tia's ghostly figure having appeared before her, and Orlha, her eyes still stinging with tears, spoke to the ghostly figure as if her sister still lived and indeed stood before her. "Tia, why? Why me? Why did you...?" Orlha could not go on, slowly choking on her own grief.

"It was time, Sis. I had watched your fight from my dreams. I understood what was happening. So I held on long enough to see you just once. After that, I knew I could go in peace."

"So you did it to hurt me?! You made me think I had another chance to be with my family?!"

"No, Sis, I had to see you to know for sure that you were safe. That the new family you've found, Serge and his companions, would replace me. With time."

"But what about our real family?! Why couldn't you have stayed, and then we could have gone off together to find Mom and Dad, and we'd, we'd...."

"You've already found them, Sis."

"Tia...."

"They are with you in that brooch. Their prayers are inside that blue gem, and they will watch over you. As for me, I'll be right beside you the whole way."

The ghostly image of Tia began to fade, prompting Orlha to rush forward and cry "Don't go!", but to no avail. Tia's voice was heard one final time before being quieted for good.

It simply said "You're not alone, Sis. He knows what it's like."

------------------------

The next morning Orlha had disembarked for Termina once more, her stay in Guldove abruptly cut short by her own agony every time she looked towards the harbour, where Doc's small hut stood. The brooch was all she had now, but in it she carried the spirit of everyone she loved, so she felt a renewed vigour, as if she'd been resting for an entire week. Now, she had a reason to fight.

After arriving in Termina she'd caught wind that Serge was back, searching the El Nido Triangle for some unknown reason. Never one to doubt Serge, she worked her way quickly south, arriving at Opassa Beach a few hours before Serge arrived alongside a tiny alien named Starky. A space ship, the little thing had said, sitting underwater in the other world. That was how they were going to fly to Terra Tower.

While the S.S. Invincible drifted lazily through El Nido's seas, the occupants of the ship found themselves doing quite the opposite. Every room, every hallway, every nook and cranny of the ship buzzed with activity. After Serge had unwittingly discovered a way to reach Terra Tower, preparations had begun. Starky took Serge to find the long lost space ship, whose contents would undoubtedly answer the nagging question of how to get up atop the winged, floating monstrosity. Orlha, having caught a ride back to this world with Serge, was busy every day. She worked on her fighting techniques in her room, just wanting to be alone with her thoughts. Or she sat alone atop the Crow's Nest, looking out to sea as she searched her heart for the answer to unlocking the brooch she had been left with. She knew her family's prayers were with her, but still locked up inside her brooch they could do her no good. In truth, she had no use for the strength the brooch provided, but was searching for the comfort afforded by being able to feel her loved ones around her whenever she carried the blue gem, which just happened to be always.

It was atop the Crow's Nest one day that she looked down to see the pride of General Viper and all of El Nido, the Acacia Dragoons, training atop the main deck of the ship. And there, amidst the crowds of dragoons, was Glenn, holding in his hands the Einlanzer as he squared off against, and eventually bested, Sir Radius. Later, Karsh emerged to challenge Glenn and had given him a good run for his money. Both moved so quickly that Orlha could barely follow their movements. Glenn had soon forced Karsh against the railing lining the outskirts of the deck, forcing Karsh to unleash a fearsome but clumsy attack. Glenn bobbed and weaved, narrowly avoiding each swing of Karsh's axe, until finally bringing his sword up quickly, knocking the axe from Karsh's hand in mid-swing. With the tip of Glenn's sword perched precariously at his throat, Karsh had simply laughed aloud, congratulating Glenn on his performance.

The whole time, Orlha could not take her eyes off of the sacred blade. She remembered how it had shone a blue hue, not unlike the sapphire she held in her hand. She remembered that it was made of Dreamstone, something this blue gem once was. If anything held the answer to unlocking the souls within her gem, it was that sword and, by consequence, its wielder. Orlha caught him in the mess the next day, right after training. Strangely enough, it appeared that he was shovelling Viper Churros into his mouth at an alarming rate. She approached him, but could get no response, his mouth full of food. Glenn swallowed, and, taking a mouthful of water from his nearby cup, nearly spat it all out as Orlha jumped up in front of him on the table he sat at and proceeded to crouch down, shoving her blue gem in his stunned face.

Glenn still held a lot of questions about that gem, especially since it was made of the same material as the Einlanzer. Now he was even more curious, as the gem had grown considerably in size since he had last seen it. Glenn opened his mouth, preparing to let a tide of questions rush forth, only to be interrupted. "Let me see your sword again." Glenn was speechless. This young woman whom he had known for a mere matter of weeks was demanding to see his sword, a dragoon's most prized possession, a second time, all without giving him a chance to respond. "Give me your sword or the next time you eat, it'll be through a straw." Glenn found that he could not argue with that.

Having retired to the more peaceful locale of his quarters aboard the ship, Glenn stood at attention just inside the door as Orlha paced the length of the room, shouting various things at his sword. On and off she had tried poking the gem with the tip of the sword, running the blue stone along the length of the blade, and even throwing the sword to the ground and angrily stomping on it. Glenn had put an abrupt stop to that one.

Not wanting to speak for fear of his internal organs, Glenn had let this process go on in relative silence, but now Orlha appeared to have calmed down, simply sitting on the side of his bed and staring at her hands. In one was the Einlanzer, in the other her sapphire brooch, now whole. She wasn't getting the answers she was looking for. The silence had hung over the room for several minutes, and it was making Orlha nervous. Yet before she could ask a question, Glenn asked one first. "What is it you're trying to do?" Orlha's only response was to balk at the thought of giving him the real answer. The thought of having just yelled at two inanimate objects for the past hour suddenly left her feeling rather sheepish. "Very well," continued Glenn, "if you won't tell me that, at least tell me where you had your brooch repaired."

"Huh?" Orlha had only caught the last part. "What do you mean?"

"When last I saw that brooch it was broken, and much smaller. Now it is whole, and sits inside an elegant casing. I would like to know where you had that done."

"Why do you want to know?" asked Orlha, quickly taking to the defensive in case Glenn knew something already.

"A smith as skilled as the one who repaired your brooch would be of much value to the dragoons, especially myself. I am quite sure that the Einlanzer, made of a similar substance as that gem, can not simply be handed over to anyone and repaired." Glenn had won that round of misleading. He knew the sword itself would never rust or dull.

In truth, the brooch simply piqued his curiosity, as did the young woman who carried it and protected it as if it were her own flesh and blood. He had a certain degree of respect for anyone who would defend to the death an object that carried only personal, sentimental value. Glenn suspected that this brooch was the same for her as the Einlanzer, or rather the legacy contained within, was for him. If only he could get out of her what the brooch was, he'd be satisfied.

Orlha, on the other hand, was worried about what telling the truth might lead to. Wouldn't she sound crazy? Then again, she'd seen enough crazy things in the past few months to make this seem downright dull. She's spent her life listening, but recently she'd had to do all the talking. What was a bit more? Besides, she knew she could trust this one. Of all the people on the boat, no one exuded straight and narrow like Glenn. Having been given no answer, Glenn took a cautious step forward in order to emphasize his next question, but he never got the chance to ask.

"You're right, this brooch wasn't always whole." Orlha steeled herself for what came next. "In this world, my parents and sister have been missing since I was a small child. I thought one day I'd go look for them, but I haven't had the chance. The only clue I have left is the half of a gem that I used to have. In the other world, though, I found my sister alive. But she died not too long after I found her. Her half of this gem was there, the other half, and when I put the two together, they stuck. Then," this was where it began to get weird, so Orlha turned her face to Glenn's, watching for any sign of scepticism, "my dead sister appeared to me. My sister told me that my parents' prayers were inside this gem, and that her spirit was there too, watching me, and helping me. So I figured that if I could unlock the prayers and power within the brooch I'd be able to get closer to my family. Your sword, being made of the same stuff as the gem, is my only lead."

She finished, still looking at Glenn's face, yet not once had his sincere expression changed. He simply stared at her further, absorbing this new information. Orlha, turning her gaze away from his piercing stare, continued. "If you don't believe me, I understand. I know it sounds really weird but, having been on this boat, I think you understand how everything's gotten weird in this world all of a sudden."

"I understand completely."

This took Orlha completely off guard. A partial acceptance, maybe she could see it happening, but he had swallowed the whole thing, part and parcel! She sat straight up, now staring straight ahead. She then jerked her head sideways, turning to face him again. "Really?"

"Of course," Glenn replied. "I myself have had my share of unusual experiences since joining Serge. That still does not explain what you hope to accomplish here, though, if anything can be accomplished from this." With this comment, Orlha again jumped to the defensive

"What do I hope to accomplish? I want to release the power in the brooch! My parents and my sister, I can't feel them near me! Only when I hold the brooch tight against my chest can I feel anything, and even then it's only faint! I want to unlock whatever's inside the brooch and see...no, feel what my parents left for me!" Orlha had become red in the face and now realised she was standing mere inches from Glenn, breathing heavily after this verbal outburst.

Yet, against her better judgement, she continued. "That sword is made from the same stuff as this gem! Maybe together they can unlock the brooch! If I find out how that sword works, I can use it to release whatever's in the gem, and see my family again!" This last part surprised her. Had she really believed she'd see them again? They were dead, weren't they?

"What you're doing is useless." Despite what she knew and didn't know about the whole situation, Glenn's remark struck her like a knife in the heart. It was almost as if he'd single-handedly killed her hopes of ever hearing her sister's sweet voice ever again. But her resolve was greater than that.

"You're wrong. I can release my family. But...I need that sword."

"Don't do this. You're just hurting yourself."

"Then give me your sword, and you won't have to worry about it!"

"I won't."

"What do you know?! You can't understand what it's like to have your family gone forever! They're in there, I can feel it! If I have a chance to bring them back, don't you think I should get just one chance?! I need to see my family! I need to see Tia again! You don't know what it's like living without her!" As tears welled up in Orlha's eyes it suddenly struck her as to who she was actually talking to. Yet through it all, Glenn's expression had not hardened. If anything, it seemed more sympathetic.

"My father and brother were both killed by their best friends. Despite what you think, I know exactly how you feel." Orlha had giving up caring about what she said at this point. She wasn't here to make friends. She was here to get her sister back.

"What could you possibly have to complain about?! Everyone you ever had is still right here!! You got your brother back in one piece, didn't you?!" Orlha saw this remark strike a nerve, and she knew she had a window of opportunity. Winding up, Orlha struck Glenn across the face, sending him sprawling to the floor in a daze. She quickly turned, grabbed the brooch and the sword, and made a mad dash for the door. Orlha ran off of the ship, docked in Termina at the time, and rushed through the streets, ducking in and out of the bustling crowds and fearing that at any moment any one of the passers-by might pull her aside and ask her what she was up to. She could not explain, not yet. Orlha ran to the far end of Termina, dashing underneath the small priest's hut that sat on stilts by the river and leaning against one of the supporting posts in an attempt to regain her breath.

Orlha sat down on the cold ground there and waited. She waited for the inevitable retribution, the inevitable search and seizure, the inevitable demand for explanations. Yet no one appeared the entire afternoon, and, having spent the entire evening weeping for her lost sister, Orlha lay down on the ground that night, and slept. She woke with a start just after dawn. The sword still lay beside her, along with her precious gem, but now someone had joined her. Looking out from underneath the hut, she could see a dragoon in bronze armour standing before the makeshift memorial in the middle of the nearby calm pool of water.

It could only be Glenn, this she knew, but she also noticed the Bellflower he held in his hand. The wind whipped furiously around him, but the only motion was that of his hair and uniform flapping about. He held the flower close to his side to protect it from the wind, for surely it would have been blown apart by the raging gale. Orlha slowly crept out from underneath the hut, carrying with her the sword and gem. After emerging from her sheltered retreat beneath the hut, the wind quickly bit through Orlha's thin clothing, and she struggled to keep her hair out of her eyes as it was violently tossed about. "So you've come to get me then?" Orlha cried out. "Or maybe just to retrieve your sword?"

"Neither," came Glenn's reply. "I am here this morning as I am on any other morning, paying my respects to the dead and honouring their memory in life." With that Glenn leaned down and placed the Bellflower carefully at the foot of the memorial, into which this world's Einlanzer was still inserted. The wind, however, quickly picked up the flower and blew it away into the river nearby, leaving it to drift to wherever the whim of the master-less wake might take it. Glenn did not appear upset at this turn of events, and merely turned around and walked over to where Orlha still stood, fearing his rebuke. Much to her surprise, none came. The two simply stood in silence, staring at each other.

Orlha spoke first. "I need it to bring them back. Don't you understand?"

"You said that I could not understand, that I had gotten my brother back. If that is so, then why do I still come here? Everyone who used to visit this grave has all but forgotten their Dario, finding it easier to replace him with the one that is still alive in the other world. Yet here lies the Dario I know and love. My brother lies here, alongside my father. The other Dario, he's not my brother, for you see, my family never did come back to me." Orlha was struck speechless as Glenn continued. "Your family is no different. They were here once, but are gone for good now. Your memories of them are still with you, though. You should treasure them, and honour your family by living your life according to what they taught you. Without my brother, I would surely never have survived my troubled youth, so I honour him in death by mirroring his teachings in life. This is how I can bring him back. This is the only way I can bring him back. If I were to attempt to physically bring him back to life, if I were to suddenly start over as if the other Dario were my brother and nothing had happened in the years between, I would be killing my real brother."

Orlha could only stammer a weak response. "You...you...don't...."

"Do as you wish, but you shall do so without the Einlanzer." Glenn moved quickly, plucking the sword from Orlha's weakened grasp. Glenn then expertly slid the sword into its sheath around his waist and walked away from Orlha, back towards the memorial. Just then, a voice sounded inside Orlha's head. She recognised it immediately as Tia's voice, calling out to her, but she couldn't make out the words. She stopped, listening intently. She barely made out her sister's vague words against the howling wind.

"You're not alone, Sis." Orlha remembered now, and mouthed the rest of the words as Tia repeated them. "He knows what it's like." Orlha felt a wave of guilt and nausea pass over her, finding herself sick at the memory of her recent heartlessness. Before she could call out to Glenn, before she could repeal her mistakes and begin her atonement, Glenn's hand shot to the hilt of his sword.

"What? It's never done this before!" Drawing the Einlanzer, Glenn could see it now glowing a pale blue, the same he had seen the day he fought the Masamune. But now, the Einlanzer in the ground before him was mirroring the one in his hand. As Glenn tried to figure out just what was going on, Orlha ran up behind him, staring at this world's holy blade as it floated before them, having dislodged itself from the tiny memorial. The sword floated softly towards them. Glenn's free hand shot forward, partly of its own will, and gripped the floating blade by the hilt. Now clutching both Einlanzers, Glenn himself began to glow with the pale blue aura. Orlha could not understand why, but Glenn began to speak to himself.

"Brother?!" Glenn shouted. "Yes, I understand. This sword I shall take into my hands, and together we will fulfill our unfinished dream."

With a burst of light, Orlha was blown back from the memorial, holding her arms in front of her face to shield her eyes from the blast as her feet skidded along the rocky ground. Orlha flew all the way back to a spot beneath the priest's hut before she finally felt the power that had forced her back fade away. As the bright light surrounding the small memorial subsided, Orlha removed her arms from in front of her face. She could barely make out the shape of Glenn in the centre of the fading light, now with two swords hanging around his waist instead of one. Both looked the same at the hilt, and she knew then that both Einlanzers rested with Glenn. Orlha thought that now, surely, he could spare one for her, but she quickly extinguished those thoughts before she could say anything else foolish. She had said enough foolish things to Glenn already.

Before her very eyes, his point had been unquestionably proven. Glenn turned to her and smiled. As he approached, she still could not speak, and merely watched as he stopped inches in front of her. Glenn grabbed her hand, the one that still held the blue gem, and raised it to her chest, pushing it against the gap in her shirt that would normally be used to earn her tips. "Can you still feel them?" He asked her. She simply nodded. It was true. She could feel the compassion of her father, the strength of her mother, and the warmth of her sister, pulsing through her body like a fever. "Then why spend so much time trying to bring them back?" He asked. "They're already here."

------------------------

As she and Glenn hurtled up the final staircase of Terra Tower, Orlha could hear the screams of agony coming from the statues around them. It was obvious Glenn heard them too, as he had now slowed to a walk. The two dragged on further and further, into more vicious cries of pain and screams of fear. Orlha at last stopped. She felt weak, and her stomach wanted to hurl whatever was left in it all over the stairs in front of her, but he had grabbed her hand. Dragging her up the staircase, Glenn leapt over the final stair and nearly threw Orlha to the ground in front of him. At the last second she regained her balance enough to keep from falling, but Orlha had to quickly grab Glenn by the shoulder in order to prevent further stumbling. The two looked up to see the results of their drastic plan. Everyone had, over the course of several hours, been shipped up to Terra Tower, and it was agreed that everyone would divide into teams of three and scramble for the top, making sure that, at the very least, some of them would get to the top, because that was all that mattered.

The two of them had been paired with Fargo, who had valiantly offered to hold the beasts guarding the base of the stairs at bay while the two of them hurried to the top, the final plateau of the tower. Glenn and Orlha both could only hope another group would arrive and aid Fargo before he could no longer defend himself. Now, at the top of the tower, Glenn and Orlha could both see the fruits of their efforts.

Before them, standing near the Frozen Flame itself, was Serge, with Kid and Guile faithfully at his side, waiting for others. That was all. The two greeted Kid and Guile as happily as they could under the circumstances, but this was all the time the flame needed. It called to Serge in a voice no one else could hear. It drew him forwards, and no one even noticed. It was irresistible, and Serge could not fight it. This had been what he was searching for the whole time. Everything had amounted to this. Kid noticed, but only too late. As the flame opened suddenly, slowly, revealing its true form, Serge's fingers graced its shell. It began shining brightly, a beacon in the thick night that perpetually surrounded the tower itself.

It called forth a being the troupe had seen once before, in the skies over Chronopolis, and this creature knew from first sight that they would not survive. The flame now had everything in place. It would not stick around for the show. As the Frozen Flame faded from sight, the massive dragon-demon hybrid slowly hovered towards the five hapless souls standing before it. It analysed each one in turn, its heavy eyes falling lastly on Serge, the bane of its existence, the being who had called it forth time and again, the being destined to bring HER back. It could not let that happen. And it knew that it wouldn't. As it eyed the opponents it faced, it knew enough to take out the weakest ones first. Starting with what was left of HER. Kid noticed its intentions, but only too late.

The creature opened its mouth and a heavy gust of air shot straight in Kid's direction, sending her flying several feet into the air. Unconscious on landing, her fight was quickly over as she skidded across the roof, kicking up dust as she rolled. That was the last chance the creature would have for surprise, however, as Guile was quick to slam the base of his staff into the roof on which he stood, placing a heavy magical seal over the entire area. This admittedly crippled the creature, but it left the battle to be decided by brute force alone. The mage had sacrificed his own power to help his comrades. Admirable, the creature noted, but ultimately stupid. The creature, now facing three fighters rushing at him, quickly escaped to the air. Guile hung back, attempting to tend to Kid. The creature swooped down low over Serge, Glenn, and Orlha, blowing them all off their feet. The creature drove straight towards Guile, who quickly grabbed Kid and dove aside. Guile stood up, watching the creature's head as it continued away from him, but he did not notice the creature's tail trailing far behind its body.

Guile was struck across the back of the head and sent barrelling forward, the only thing keeping him from plummeting to his death the fact that he had rolled up against one of the few pillars scattered about the rim of the high plateau. There was a crack of bone and sinew as Guile's body hit the pillar at high speed, sending a chill through the spines of his remaining three comrades, though seeing that Guile had not fallen off the roof entirely offered them some hope. As Serge, Glenn, and Orlha each regained their footing, the creature swooped overhead again, once more swooping low and blowing the three off their feet. The creature knew who was next. It wanted to leave the Arbiter for dessert.

Orlha helped Glenn to his feet and the two looked up overhead, to where the creature had begun circling over them like a vulture around a pending feast of carrion. Serge, now blown all the way to the opposite side of the roof, also watched the creature's idle machinations. The creature suddenly lowered its altitude significantly, flying at eye level around the outside of the roof. Glenn turned to Orlha, swords drawn. "We have a better chance as a group," he said. "We need to get across the roof and reach Serge quickly." Orlha simply nodded her agreement and the two turned their backs to the creature, floating past the side of the roof closest them, as they ran side by side towards Serge. Serge, however, was not so patient as to wait for their arrival from the distant edges of the roof, and leapt around in the air as the creature occasionally abandoned its usual route around the outside of the roof and passed directly over Serge's head in a teasing manner.

As Glenn and Orlha, constantly having to adjust their trajectory to fit Serge's errant wanderings about the rooftop, finally reached a spot near the centre of the circular roof, Serge just barely managed to cut the creature's underbelly by flailing wildly as he jumped. The creature wavered in its circling, leaving Orlha and Glenn complacent in the knowledge that an attack would not come so soon after the creature had suffered a blow. This is exactly what it had planned, and so, when it burst towards the two of them, now stranded in the middle of the roof without cover or aid, neither had fully believed it was really happening. The creature opened its gaping mouth as it flew towards them. Orlha soon suffered a sudden further shock as she felt Glenn's arms wrap tightly around her waist and swing her around, out of the path of the incoming creature. Then it hit them.

The creature tilted its head and snapped its jaw shut before swinging its snout at them. Glenn's body absorbed the brunt of the attack, but both warriors were sent flying through the air. As they hit the ground, Orlha could feel the cushioning effect of Glenn's body beneath her. She could hear scraping metal as Glenn continued to skid along the roof, his armour dragging on the ground. After they had finally stopped, Orlha rolled off of Glenn's now limp body, struggling to her feet completely dishevelled. She limped her way to the nearby edge of the roof, where she leaned against one of the stone pillars that occasionally cropped up around the rooftop's precipice. Turning around, Orlha could see the creature rush towards her, attempting to follow up on its initial attack. Orlha, still slightly dazed, dove to the ground and narrowly dodged contact with the creature's bulky frame.

Once more fully aware, Orlha leapt to her feet and turned to face the creature, now cutting a wide arc through the air as it turned back towards her. Orlha set off running in the direction she knew the creature would have to approach from, given its massive turning radius. As the creature finished turning and began its approach, it opened its mouth wide and shot forward in a burst of speed. As it met Orlha coming the other way near the centre of the rooftop, the creature lunged forward, attempting to trap Orlha within its massive jaws. As the creature gnashed at her, Orlha jumped into the air, her open palm slamming down onto the creature's closing snout as she cartwheeled over the creature's deadly strike. Acrobatically vaulting down the length of its back in a series of masterful flips, Orlha leapt from the middle of the creature's tail and back down to the ground. The creature simply continued forward, unable to redirect its weight quickly enough, and again began the arduous process of turning itself around in the air beyond the rooftop.

By this time, Serge had taken note of the situation and was at Glenn's side, attempting to drag the unconscious man out of harm's way. Orlha attempted to run the long length of the rooftop as soon as she noticed the creature line itself up with Serge. Dashing towards Serge, Orlha was not fast enough to warn him, and the creature tossed the young man aside with a swipe from its snout. As Serge was sent tumbling across the roof, Orlha skidded to a halt, now taking notice of the creature's attempts to mildly redirect itself in an effort to line itself up with her without sacrificing the speed it had built up. Turning and running from the creature, Orlha was hardly fast enough to keep the creature from catching up with her, and as she neared the edge of the roof, the creature prepared to strike.

Just then, Orlha leapt straight into the air, her momentum carrying her forwards but her upwards thrust carrying her slightly to one side, and she spun her leg around in a swift kick. As her foot connected with the side of the creature's upper jaw, she saw it waver in its flight path. The creature, its balance severely compromised by Orlha's attack, wavered, snaking back and forth in an effort to keep up speed. With its eye fully turned inside its head, it looked back at its tail and took aim. Just as Orlha stood up from her rough landing, the creature's winding tail swung back towards her and caught her on the shoulder, sending her rolling across the roof. After almost colliding with Glenn's still form, Orlha clutched at the stones beneath her with her hands, ending her roll and creating enough friction to keep her from plunging off of the edge of the roof. On her hands and knees, the breath knocked out of her, Orlha barely managed to keep her eyes open as she looked up, expecting to see the creature flinging Serge's limp body from the tower. The thought tore her up inside, but her body seemed unable to do anything at this point except think.

Looking up, Orlha saw Serge had reawakened and was now scarcely holding his ground, only just being able to dodge the creature's swooping attacks. Orlha tried to get to her feet but failed, collapsing back on the ground. She clutched her precious blue gem to her heart, but felt nothing. Something was terribly wrong. Where were her parents? Her sister? Had she not done her best? Didn't she still deserve their help? With their help, maybe.... But no, nothing happened. Orlha simply stared at the blue gem in her hand, the hope draining from her heart. They were gone. There was seemingly nothing she could do to bring them back. She had tried so hard. She had started to live by what they'd taught her. Every moment of every day, she had remembered them. She wouldn't let them disappear. Not now, when she needed them the most.

Orlha again clutched the gem tightly to her chest and shut her eyes, imagining her sister, and how peaceful she had looked before she'd died. Imagining the brief moments they had had to speak to each other, and her sister's soothing voice. Soon, she could feel something. It wasn't Tia, but it was something. And it was growing. Orlha could feel it welling up inside her, and she felt herself rise to her feet, her eyes still closed. Through the void in her mind she could make out the faint sound of metal scraping across the smooth stones of the rooftop. No, it wasn't from the battle. It was closer. She opened her eyes, and what she saw shocked her enough to cause her weak body to gasp. There before her, on one knee and leaning heavily on both his swords, was Glenn, moments ago totally unconscious, now struggling to his feet.

As he slowly stood up, the sensation from her brooch grew and grew, until Orlha was afraid she would faint from the overwhelming power of it. Yet, when she tried to move, she found she could not. Nothing in her entire body responded but her eyes. She could only watch, and hope. Glenn, hefting the Einlanzers in an intimidating manner, could feel the sudden power rising in him. It had hit him suddenly, waking him from his slumber, but it was as if the swords were speaking to him. Then he had risen slowly, only to find the swords weren't speaking to him, but rather his body was speaking to them. They responded to his thoughts, moving about as if they were an extension of his own limbs. As this new feeling grew within him, filling him with strength, he finally noticed Serge, now nearly at the mercy of the horrible creature. Glenn briefly glimpsed memories from his past: tournaments, training sessions, and battles alongside Serge, where he himself had been at the mercy of his foe. It did not happen often, but Glenn could remember it. Glenn could also remember that he owed the creature a debt of pain.

Another thought floated through Glenn's mind, that of the day his brother, his real brother, had spoken to him through the swords, and he had accepted his destiny the same way Serge now confronted his own. The memory quickly faded, but one image seemed to stick with him as he ran screaming towards the vile creature: that of himself, wrapping his hand around Orlha's as she clutched her precious blue stone to her chest. Glenn continued running, ever picking up speed, as Orlha continued watching, still unable to move despite the fact that the waves of heat and excitement forcing their way to the surface of her body were like nothing she'd ever felt. Orlha felt ready to explode as she watched Glenn leap high into the air over the unsuspecting creature.

Why had it not felt this surge in power? The Arbiter had distracted it. It had barely held its ground against the Arbiter alone. Now, with this incorrigible knight gaining such close proximity right under its very nose, it feared the worst for the battle's end. As Glenn came down atop the creature's head he slammed the sword in his left hand straight down into the creature, right up to the hilt. With the creature's blood spraying up into Glenn's face and coursing lengthwise down its own back along the grooves in its spine, the creature itself soon began thrashing violently. Glenn gripped the deeply rooted blade, barely holding on. As the creature's thrashing eased, Glenn leapt off of the top of its head, leaving his sword firmly planted inside the creature. The sword was causing the creature no end of pain. Every movement caused a rush of agony through its entire body, and the creature knew this would have to end soon.

The creature rose into the air, once again swooping down in an attempt to dive headfirst right into Glenn. Glenn wondered how the creature possibly could have survived so long, using a single method of attack over and over. He soon found out. Glenn braced himself for the inevitable blow over, only to watch as the creature turned its entire body in mid dive. In no position to dodge the coming attack, Glenn simply gambled, and leapt. The creature's tail came swinging around full tilt in a devastating strike, but Glenn managed to grab hold of the tail as the armour over his torso blunted the worst of the blow. Hurt but now hanging from the end of the creature's tail, Glenn struggled against his lack of breath and the pounding in his head to bring his remaining blade down upon the creature's tail. His gamble paid off as the Einlanzer cut cleanly through the entire width of the tail, sending Glenn tumbling back down to the roof with the entire massive tip of the creature's tail cradled in his arms.

Just moments after the creature had realised that the truant knight had successfully attached himself to the end of its tail, it had felt a shattering pain which, combined with the burning from the holy blade still firmly stuck in its head, left the creature dazed and disoriented. The creature began thrashing about blindly, hoping that one of its errant attacks might strike a target. Its aimless spinning was uncontrollable, but it knew this was better than nothing. Orlha, still standing near the edge of the roof and still unable to move no matter how hard she tried, had quickly become aware that the spinning creature would eventually hit her. Its pattern, while unusual, was still subject to the rules of momentum. It would be mere moments now, before she was flung from the roof by the creature, falling thousands of feet to her death in the sea below. Never in her life had she stared death so starkly in the face, yet never had she known her body to be so calm. She could still feel the spirit in the gem boiling inside her, pulsing like the flow of her blood. She knew that, come the worst, she'd find somewhere better, just as her family had. Yet, when she tried to think of someplace better in an attempt to remain calm, her thoughts invariably drew her back to...here.

Glenn could feel it again, his body speaking to his sword. As he gripped the sword hilt tightly with both hands, he closed his eyes, feeling control of his body momentarily slip away. When he opened his eyes once more, Glenn found himself soaring through the air towards the creature as it spun uncontrollably towards Orlha. Glenn couldn't recall running, or jumping, or even bringing the blade back behind his head, but the air blowing through his hair told him it was not the time to ask questions. Glenn pulled his blade forwards into the creature as he came crashing down, his feet shattering the ground on which they landed. Glenn managed to catch the creature at a wing root, his sword opening a massive wound down the side of the creature's abdomen, all the way from its back to its pale underbelly. The creature, thrown off balance by this brutal attack, rotated onto its side as it crashed into the roof. Sending a thick stream of blood arching through the air as it spun, the creature skidded to a halt just as it brushed up against Orlha's toes.

Orlha watched silently as Glenn slowly approached, blood running down his face and limbs. His or the creature's she wasn't sure, but she wanted to, no, was being compelled to run straight to him and check if he was all right. Yet still she couldn't move no matter how hard she tried. Glenn noticed this too, approaching now at a light jog. In an effort to lose some excess baggage Glenn casually tossed aside his remaining sword, but with this Orlha felt the breath leave her body. Her legs failed, no longer able to support her. Her arms went limp, and the gem fell from her hand to the ground at her feet. Slowly, she began leaning back. Glenn was now running as fast as he could in an attempt to catch her before she could lean all the way back and plummet from the tower to the sea below. Glenn wasn't fast enough, and Orlha soon found herself falling away from consciousness just as she fell away from the building. She felt as if she were floating, before suddenly being jolted back to reality.

Glenn's strength had left him as he had watched Orlha fall from the rooftop. He hadn't felt anything except a fierce desire to keep her from falling. Now his legs gave out underneath him and he fell to his hands and knees. Fargo, Karsh, Kid; he had failed so many today, and he knew that could not be forgiven, but this...this.... Glenn slowly lifted his head as a familiar sound reached his ears. It was a man's laugh. Korcha's flimsy ferry floated before his eyes alongside the tower's peak. In it stood Marcy, Zoah, and Karsh, three friends he had thought lost forever in the depths of the tower. Alongside them was Fargo, looking quite well and in one piece. In his arms he held a bewildered Orlha. Glenn felt relief wash over him as he saw many of the friends he had presumed dead only moments ago standing before his eyes.

The relief increased, however, as he watched Fargo place Orlha back on her feet. She hopped out of the boat and began a steady walk towards him as if she had just woken from a peaceful slumber. With this, he fell forward and fainted, landing flat on his face. As the tower crumbled around them, injured friends and discarded wares were quickly gathered and rushed to the safety of the nearby boat, Glenn slung over Zoah's shoulder the entire trip down to the ground.

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And so, that night on the S.S. Invincible, there was held a party the likes of which had not been seen in Arni Village's harbour in a long, long, long time. Yet amidst the festivities one soul was strangely absent. Kid had long since recovered from her wounds, her amulet attending to that matter. Guile had never felt better, though it was less to do with the day's victory than the night's events. Serge danced the night away with the best of them, despite not saying a word the whole time. While Fargo and the Devas scattered themselves about the festivities, Orlha made her presence known by besting Fargo's entire crew at shots.

It was Glenn, the bronze plated dragoon, who was strangely absent from the list of partygoers. Yet there he stood, on the silent upper deck of the S.S. Invincible, dutifully patrolling the length of the ship. After all, Glenn knew as well as anyone that the ship could not just be left untended. Danger was always about. The Invincible's crew, however, did not deserve to miss a moment of this. They had cut their own food rations, billeted out their own bunks, in order to make Serge's stay, and by extension that of himself and many others, as comfortable as possible. This was their night, even though Glenn could hear Orlha drinking them under the table from where he stood.

It was after the din had settled down, through the thick darkness of the El Nido night, that Glenn caught sight of a strange figure emerging from below decks. Perhaps his replacement, but he doubted that. No one would be well enough to replace him this early, and no one would still be awake this late. Having come from below-deck he knew they weren't hostile, but having to subdue a pirate with a gizzard full of Dragon's Glory was time consuming at the very least.

The figure gradually faded into focus, revealing a well-curved silhouette. Glenn's eyes went wide with surprise. He would never have thought he'd see a woman walking about the decks this late. He quickly rushed over, catching the woman just as she was about fall to the deck. Glenn managed to get the young woman upright, only to realise he'd been helping a severely inebriated Orlha. The blonde haired barmaid came into further focus, and it was obvious to Glenn she had no clue what was going on. Orlha opened her mouth but could only manage one word before she fainted in Glenn's arms. "Tia."

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Orlha woke slowly, batting her eyes a few times to try and get a better view of her surroundings. She looked around the bedroom, still dark, then over to the window, where she noticed it had been hastily boarded over, thin rays of sunlight barely poking through the cracks in the work. She then caught a slight movement out of the corner of her eye. She looked over to the door, where she saw a small crack in the doorway disappear just as quickly as it had appeared. Fearing the worst, and quickly becoming aware that she lay in bed wearing nothing but a thin frock, Orlha searched over the room for her clothes, a weapon, anything.

As she scoured the room, Orlha attempted to recollect the events of the previous night, causing her head to reel. She couldn't recognise any of her surroundings, and she found nothing of any use about the room itself. All she saw was her blue gem brooch sitting at the foot of the bed, just out of reach of her toes. Orlha took a few deep breaths to try and calm down. At least the gem was still with her. Also, she realised that her best and only weapons had always been her solid limbs. Her first task, she felt, was to find some clothing. In the meantime, she would have to settle for the frock now wrapped around her. Slowly, silently, she grabbed her brooch and crept towards the door.

As she took up a spot behind the door, Orlha saw the door open a crack. The person at the door, obviously disconcerted at the fact that he could no longer see her in the bed, opened the door a bit wider. Orlha struck, kicking the door closed with as much force as she could muster. She heard a satisfying crack as the door clobbered the face of whoever was opening it. She swung the door all the way open, prepared to beat her captor to a bloody pulp. Instead, what greeted her was...

"Glenn?!" Orlha exclaimed. Glenn staggered backwards into the hall, one hand clutching his nose and the other one held up so that his buckler would shield his face. Orlha quickly ushered Glenn into the room and sat him down on the bed, lifting his arm away from his face to see how much damage she'd done. After looking him over, she heaved a sigh of relief. "Nothing bleeding or broken. What in the world are you doing to me?! Why am I in here?!"

"I brought you here to spend the night," was his reply. "You had fallen asleep on the deck and I did not know what else to do."

"You might have taken me back to my room," Orlha said, as if it were blindingly obvious.

"Your room was in a busy area of the ship. I believed that the crew going about their daily business would have assuredly woken you early this morning. After guessing at how much you drank and checking at what time you approached me on the deck, I believed you would need more sleep than that. I also boarded over the window to prevent the light from waking you. I hope that was all right."

"It's fine, it's fine. But...why were you standing outside my door and peeking in on me?"

Glenn quickly turned a pale shade of red as his eyes darted to the door, away from Orlha's glare. "I wasn't peeking. I was making sure you weren't becoming ill, or worse."

"And you had to stand outside to do that?"

"There were many people coming to call on you. In the interests of letting you sleep, I stood at the door and handled any appointments that you had," Glenn replied.

"Appointments? I never have appointments."

"Actually, there were a number of crewmen here to see you in order to pay their outstanding bets from last night's drinking contest. I have your money right here." Glenn quickly snatched a small leather bag from around his belt and offered it to Orlha. It jingled as she took it from him, and felt heavy with coins. Orlha was stunned. Never before had someone even helped her get home after a hard night of drinking, let alone watched over her like this.

"You'll have to excuse me," interrupted Glenn, "but I have an urgent meeting with the General at the moment. Then I fear that I myself am in dire need of some sleep. Fargo says that you are free to use this room until you're well enough to move back to your own, and that he wants to challenge you personally next time you're available. He said you would know what this meant." Glenn rose from the bed and turned to leave. As he was partway out the door, however, Orlha's voice made him stop.

"Glenn?"

"Yes."

"Why…all of this?" Orlha asked.

"Why what?" Glenn replied, completely clueless.

"This?" Orlha echoed, motioning to the room around her, and finally towards the sack of gold in her hand. Glenn suddenly donned an appearance of realisation as Orlha finished waving her arms around, and softly chuckled to himself before responding.

"What a silly question. A dragoon such as myself would never be so petty as to steal such a paltry sum of gold." Orlha sat silent on the bed, dumbfounded. Glenn, still smiling, simply exited the room and shut the door behind him before Orlha could grill him further. Outside the room, the smile soon faded from Glenn's lips as he stumbled towards General Viper's temporary study in a sleepless daze. Glenn was only anxious for the moment when he himself could sleep.

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As Glenn stumbled into his room, luckily enough entirely his own, he failed to notice a faint blue glimmer in the corner of his cabin. Glenn, despite his weary state, carefully removed all of his armour and laid it out on his bed in a pristine manner, just as he always had, taking a moment to stare at it in quiet contemplation before tossing his shirt into a basket near the door. Grabbing a bed sheet from a nearby coat hook, Glenn set his exhausted body down on the floor. As fast as his head hit the floor, Glenn was asleep, his armour still sitting serenely on the bed.

As she watched him from a dark corner of his room, she was astonished when he placed his frame down on the cold, hard floor, leaving his armour to rest on the bed beside him. Yet she knew what it was now. When he had passed her in the hall, she had felt a surge from her brooch. As he drew closer, it swelled, and as he passed, it faded, as if nothing had even happened. This time she was sure of it. After a number of hours, just standing in the corner and staring at him sleeping on the floor, Orlha moved towards the bed. Slowly, carefully, she began transferring Glenn's armour from atop the bed to a spot on the floor by the door. Glenn continued to sleep soundly the whole time until, much to her chagrin, Orlha tripped over Glenn's foot and dropped the piece of armour she carried, filling the room with a loud crash. Before she could curse her clumsiness, Glenn was sitting up straight, his hand groping for a non-existent sword hanging from his waist before his eyes were even fully opened.

As he regained his composure, Glenn noticed Orlha standing over him, unabashedly watching him as he rose from the floor. "What are you doing here? What's wrong?" Glenn asked, but then noticed his armour sitting on the floor in front of the door instead of on the bed where he'd left it. "What are you doing? My armour will get full of scratches and dents if I leave it on the floor." Glenn stepped around Orlha and picked up the nearest piece of his armour, turning around to take it back to its usual place. He stopped when Orlha moved into his path, blocking him from the bed.

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As Orlha settled down on top of him, straddling him with her muscular legs and easily stifling any movement on his part, Glenn was reluctant to ask what was going on. He knew well enough, but there were a few things he still had to sort out. "Why?" he asked, innocently enough. Orlha's only response was to raise his hand in hers to the sapphire hanging around her neck. As she closed Glenn's fingers around the brooch, she leaned forward and kissed him. At that moment, Glenn was filled with a familiar sensation, but on a much more physical level. Glenn had felt this atop Terra Tower, his body extending to encompass his swords. Now, however, he could feel his body encompassing another person, a person he'd come to care for, and he could now feel their hearts beating in rhythm, the heat of their bodies mixing and floating out to the rest of the room. Yet, as Orlha released his hand and he drew it away from the brooch, the feeling did not subside. In fact, it only began to increase as Orlha laid her body down atop his.

Glenn could feel the weight of her body on top of his own, and he could hear the pounding of Orlha's heart in his head. He now knew that this is what he'd truly felt atop the tower. Not a need to save her, not a desire to catch her. Just her. Their bodies, souls, spirits moving in unison. Glenn had felt it then, and could feel it now, and he had no desire to end it. So he let the moment take control. As the two entangled bodies rolled over in the bed, placing Glenn atop Orlha, Orlha threw the brooch away, ignoring the loud crash it made as it hit the far wall of the room and fell to the floor. What she felt now was more than the brooch had ever given her, and it was that same feeling that had held her in place on Terra Tower. Not her parents, not her sister, but him. She hadn't realised it was him all along. That it took her so long to figure it out still made her ashamed. At least now her earlier lapses in judgement could be forgiven. He was very forgiving. As the two sat up in the bed, she kissed him, kissed his neck, his chest, working her lips down across the front of his body until she felt his calloused hands undoing the clasp around the neck of her dress. Glenn slipped his hands under the rough material of Orlha's dress and began rubbing softly up and down over her sensitive shoulders as he took her mouth with his once more.

Glenn slowly backed off and lowered his mouth to her ear. "Orlha…" Glenn whispered, his breath wet and warm against her neck, "You don't have to do this." She looked up into Glenn's eyes, trapped within the deep blue pools that had lost none of their innocence or beauty. Her look, one of lustful anticipation, was enough of an answer for him, and he slowly continued, softly kissing her shoulders as he pulled her dress down over them. Orlha brought her arms to her side and allowed Glenn to continue pulling the top of the dress down, running his fingers down her arms as he exposed her body to the heat that now filled the room. Glenn released her arms and began running his fingers through Orlha's long blonde hair, cupping the back of her head before moving lower to run his hands down her neck. She felt his hands continue slowly down her chest, gently caressing every curve of her body. Orlha couldn't help but release a small moan of pleasure as Glenn's rough hands began softly caressing her breasts, and she felt his cautious and inexperienced touch continue lower as his mouth again met hers. Orlha wrapped her legs around Glenn's waist, pulling him tightly into her body, pressing his skin deep into her own until she could feel the scars that scattered his bare skin pressing into her flesh.

As Orlha ran her fingers through Glenn's hair, her fingers struck an unusual obstacle. Groping further, Orlha soon concluded that she had run across Glenn's ever-present headband. She giggled softly, partly from the thought of Glenn steadfastly wearing his headband and partly from Glenn's inquisitive lips, now planting kisses up and down her taut stomach. Orlha continued to giggle as she yanked the headband down over Glenn's eyes, causing him to stop his exploration of Orlha's body and sit up, attempting to remove the headband from his eyes. As Glenn raised his arms to his eyes, however, Orlha suddenly grabbed his wrists and, with a sharp laugh, threw Glenn down to the bed and again climbed on top of him. Glenn's expression, such as could be made out in the darkness of the room, was ripe with confusion as he struggled lightly against Orlha, now pinning him to the bed by the wrists. Glenn abruptly halted his struggled, however, as Orlha, with a quick kiss, made it clear to Glenn that there was no need to be concerned. He could feel Orlha's hands drift away from his wrists, but he made no attempt to remove the headband from his eyes.

Glenn heard a loud thud as something heavy landed on the floor. Glenn could only assume it was Orlha's steel waistband dropping to the floor, so he could not resist peaking from beneath the cloth strip that covered his eyes when he heard an accompanying flutter of cloth pass close by his ear. With one finger allowing an eye to peak out from underneath his headband, Glenn was treated to the sight of Orlha's naked body standing before him at the side of the bed, glistening in the moonlight with the sweat that had accumulated as a result of the night's recreation. Glenn quickly let the headband drop back down over his eye as Orlha dropped her shorts to the floor and turned to face him. "Open your mouth for me," Orlha whispered. Glenn was only too willing to comply, his passion and zealousness quickly overpowering his better sense. So it was with more than a little shock that Glenn felt his mouth stuffed with a thick material, and he almost gagged as the taste of well-worn leather assaulted his tongue.

Once Orlha had finished planting her gloves inside Glenn's mouth, she grabbed him by the wrists before he had a chance to remove them. As his muffled words came streaming out, Orlha simply leaned forward and began nibbling on Glenn's ear, causing the knight to promptly end his smothered pleas. One of Orlha's hands now held both Glenn's wrists behind his head, and Glenn soon felt the other plant itself firmly on his forehead. After pushing Glenn's head down against the bed with one hand, trapping his hands underneath, Orlha set her other hand to work removing Glenn's briefs. Glenn, feeling his pants sliding down his legs, squirmed as he felt the dry air of the room hit the rarely exposed skin around his upper thighs. The bed began to squeak beneath them as Orlha rocked back and forth atop Glenn, slowly at first but gradually speeding up. Glenn could no longer taste the leather in his mouth, nor was he fully aware of the cloth still covering his eyes. Rather, he was overwhelmed with the sensations running through his body.

As Orlha continued to sway back and forth, ever faster, Glenn could hear her breathing reach a fevered pitch, and he suddenly became aware that her grip on his head had all but disappeared. Fearing a failure to make the most of this opportunity, Glenn's hands shot out to Orlha's body, caressing every inch that they could reach as Glenn fought desperately to saturate these last moments with as much sensation as possible. As soon as Glenn felt Orlha's legs begin to clench around his waist once more, one of Glenn's hands shot back to his face, tearing the headband from his eyes. He looked up just in time to see Orlha's buxom chest, now brilliantly lit by the glowing moonlight reflecting off of her moist skin, arc towards him as she hissed out his name with what seemed to be her last breath. Glenn suddenly felt every muscle in Orlha's body tense up simultaneously. His vision became hazy as he felt his pleasure reach its peak, and he had to bite hard into Orlha's gloves, still in his mouth, to keep from screaming.

As the moons reached their peak over the empty night sky, the white moon's bright, full light drowning out that of the surrounding stars, Orlha wrapped herself in Glenn's arms, content to spend what was left of the night sleeping beside her noble dragoon. Glenn, still enamored with the blonde barmaid, simply lay alongside her, wrapping her tightly to shield her from the encroaching cold. The whole night he could only watch her, taking in her very essence with every breath. Yet, despite Glenn's most ardent wishes, the morning eventually arrived.

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As Glenn emerged onto the deck of the S.S. Invincible, the sounds of clashing metal and rustling cloth were quick to fill his ears. He looked out upon his fellow dragoons, deep in training. He regretted leaving before Orlha had awoken, but he had been so caught up in waiting for her to stir he had not realised how late he already was for the day's training. With his ever-increasing responsibilities, he was called upon as an example to the troops, and needed to set an appropriate act for them to follow.

General Viper turned from observing the training efforts of his army and looked towards the sudden motion at the deck's entrance he'd spotted. Catching Glenn in the act of attempting to nonchalantly waltz into the mass of dragoons, his tardiness going largely unnoticed, Viper let slip a tiny smirk. "Glenn!" The knight stopped dead in his tracks, hesitant to turn and face reprimand. Turn he did, though, and he greeted the General with a smart salute before joining him on the outskirts of the deck.

"Yes, Lord Viper?" A response was long in coming to Glenn's inquiry, as Viper took the opportunity of his close proximity to the young man to earnestly study his face. Viper knew this face from his past, and was not about to let slip an opportunity to once again jostle one of Garai's children.

"I'll be the one to ask questions, Glenn," said Viper, "though judging by the expression on your face I should have no need to." Glenn was silent, a small bead of sweat forming on his brow as he fretted over what the General had in store. Viper noticed Glenn's obvious anxiety over the confrontation and again recognised the look, a reaction he had fully expected. Indeed, Glenn was as much like his brother as Karsh had often boasted. "No need to worry, Glenn, I'm not about to punish you."

Glenn interjected. "Sir, if I am to be an example for the other dragoons you must punish me. To show favourites would be—"

"Glenn," Viper continued, "I am allowed to make exceptions for valid excuses, and yours is certainly valid. I can see in your face the same look Dario adopted in the days before asking for Riddel's hand in marriage. I know not who she is, but the fact that you even pulled yourself from her to come here is already a testament to your dedication to the dragoons. You should return to her and rest, if only for today. I believe Serge will need your full strength at his disposal very soon." Glenn did not protest, but rather took Viper's words to heart, as he had done so many times in the past. Glenn then turned to re-enter the bowels of the ship, something he had wished to do anyway.

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Here they were. Everything had culminated in this final battle, this last heroic action of El Nido's motley crew. Lavos' new incarnation stood before them, the young woman known as Schala trapped within. With only their wits and their weapons, Serge had led them here, following the path his heart laid before him and trusting his fate to the Chrono Cross he now held in his hand. The Omegas had quickly come flying towards them: Yellow, Red, Green, Blue, Black and White. Glenn and Orlha, accompanying Serge to this desolate wasteland of Time, had arrived in a state of agreement. Of one heart and one mind, they had known that the protection of Serge and the Chrono Cross he carried was more important than anything they themselves had ever held dear. Unfortunately for Orlha, this included each other.

Glenn had sucker punched her as soon as she had turned her back to him, and pushed her aside in order to face the brunt of the attacks on his own. He now lay lifeless at her feet as Serge wracked his brain in an effort to find the answer to the Chrono Cross' eternal riddle. Orlha had known this would happen eventually, that death would find one of them sooner or later, but to watch Glenn torn apart like a rag doll before her eyes had almost overwhelmed her. Luckily, her blue gem had once again come to her rescue, filling her with the strength to overcome and stand back up, stand her ground, and hold out for the hope of the future.

Serge had managed to solve the first part of the riddle, the sounds of the elements ringing in his ear in an endless loop. He had found the melody, now he simply needed the crescendo that would bring the full potential of the Chrono Cross to light. Yet he could not find it, no matter how hard he tried. Not only that, the melody had grown louder. He knew the Time Devourer could hear it too, and it stirred in its shell, preparing something. Perhaps it, too, could use the harmony and melody of the elements to release an unknown devastation upon the world. Serge knew he had to do something, and fast. The attack was not long in coming, and one only had to look to see the dark energy building up before the Devourer, bits and pieces sucked from places long gone and not yet arrived, stolen from the threads of Time to feed its own desire for carnage.

Orlha could stand it no longer. Melody or no, Serge needed more time. If she could just interrupt the creature's flow of energy, she could dissipate the attack, giving Serge even just a few badly needed moments. She needed to summon all of her courage, and she knew where her courage had always laid: in the hearts of the ones she loved. Orlha tore her brooch from its place around her neck and held it tightly in her hand as she rushed towards the creature. As she ran for what seemed forever, the brooch began to glow. Orlha could feel her sister again, and her parents. She could also feel that ever-elusive spirit that would occasionally grace her soul, feeding her power, and she found herself briefly wondering where it might have come from, and why it still filled her even though Glenn had been brutally murdered at the hands of this monster.

Filled with a sudden, overwhelming rage, Orlha thrust her arm forward, her fist penetrating to the very heart of the built-up energy cascading in front of the Devourer. The brooch soon began to glow with a light she'd never seen before. It was a bright red, as if it had regained its former Dreamstone lustre. The ground beneath her began shaking. The energy before her began dissipating slowly, but it wasn't enough. That attack continued cumulating faster than Orlha could deplete it. Serge was in trouble. Serge was in need of help. Serge also happened to be stricken with shock, seeing what he had just seen.

Behind Orlha, a familiar sound of thick boots thudding towards her filled her with both fear and fervour, anxious about what she might see should she turn her head. There was no need to turn around, though, as Glenn was soon in the air above her, stabbing both Einlanzers down into the fray of energy. The swords also had begun to glow a deep crimson, a reminder of their ancient origin. Orlha had no time to question where he had come from, how he had regained his consciousness, or his life, she could only think about one thing, and that was victory. Here. Now. Forever.

As Serge watched this scene unfold, still stricken with disbelief, he felt a tingling sensation in the arm that held the Chrono Cross. He looked down, only to see tiny rainbow coloured strands of light slowly creeping down the length of his arm. Then it hit him like a sack of bricks. He could see Glenn and Orlha also glowed faintly with traces of the rainbow light, and he was sure. The answer, no, the riddle itself, was love, the love of one person for another, be they friends or family, the love of Nature shared by so many, and the love of providing hope for the future, something they were all fighting desperately for. He remembered now, Harle's ramblings that had seemed so out of place at the time.

"Je T'aime, mon Serge. Pleaze, dream of moi."

Then he recalled what, after rescuing Kid from the recesses of her own memories, Radius had once said. "This must be the power of Serge's love. Hoh-hoh-hoh!"

Finally, he remembered a promise he had once made to a sweet country gal back home, a promise he could never have made if his heart had not been filled with hope for the future, and a promise he could not keep if he failed in this place. He concentrated hard on the ones he loved, on the many friends that had found him on his journey, on all of the times someone had watched over him from near or afar, and he could feel it. He had tapped into the Chrono Cross' true power. With that, the crescendo arrived. As the chord played over and over, encompassing them all in a comforting warm light, the Time Devourer shrieked in pain, squirming in agony. As the capsule sitting in the Devourer's crown burst, the shards scattered across the shoulders of Glenn and Orlha, still pouring all of their energy into their assault.

Schala floated softly towards Serge, her eyes still closed, as a bright light slowly encompassed Glenn, Orlha, and the Time Devourer. Serge was so distracted by the melody in his ears and the girl that had been freed from her prison that he failed to realise others were not so lucky. As the light surrounding the Time Devourer faded, revealing the monster's transformation to dust, Serge finally noticed Glenn and Orlha lying at the base of the fast-disappearing form of the Time Devourer. Both were motionless, awkwardly sprawled on the ground. Serge knew the worst was over, and the joy he felt could not, at the time, allow his thoughts to dwell on the ultimate cruelty of it all.

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With this, Serge was released from his role as Arbiter. The two worlds were re-woven into one, and all but Serge had had their memories ripped from them. His partner, Kid, had vanished, as had his other companions, scattered to their homes like seeds to the wind. Serge felt sad knowing that they would not remember what they did, for him and for the world, but he felt happy that someday, somewhere, he would meet them all again. Maybe he could remind them. Or maybe, they would just know.

Inside a small tavern on the secluded island paradise of Guldove, a voluptuous blonde woman sat atop the counter where, on any other given day, she would be serving drinks. But today was a holy day for the demi-humans, and she rarely received any other customers, so she knew she'd have the whole day to herself.

It had been just over a week since Doc had released her with a bill of clean health. She'd been out cold for a week, he'd said. Apparently she'd just been serving drinks like any other day when she'd collapsed. They'd found her clutching a blue brooch. She looked at the sapphire in her hand, still complete. She wondered why something about this stone felt wrong, and yet it filled her with satisfaction every time she held it to her chest.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a loud crash from the nearby docks. She hopped to her feet. Rushing out the door, she shielded her eyes from the bright sun and stared in the direction of the docks. What she could barely make out were three figures, tumbling about inside a small boat. Orlha held up her hand again in another vain attempt to shield her eyes from the sun, but still she could only make out three silhouettes, all obviously men.

She approached cautiously, fearing an arrival of troops from Porre. She balled her other hand into a tight fist, ready to strike at a moment's notice. The three turned to face her and she knew she'd been spotted, yet none made any movement in her direction. One, the tallest of the three, appeared to almost shine in places. He gripped the hilt of a sword hanging around his waist with a free hand. This one began to wave at her.

"Excuse me, Miss! Excuse me!" Glenn jogged over to the blonde woman watching the three dragoons. He introduced himself and tried to explain. "We are here to begin recruiting for the new demi-human platoons scheduled to begin training at Viper Manor in a matter of weeks. We're rather behind schedule, and I was wondering if you might aid us in acclimatizing to our new surroundings."

"Sure," replied Orlha, caught off guard by the young man's upright demeanour and clean-cut language. She had been so worked up over the new arrival, though, she quickly realised that she had left her treasured blue brooch inside the tavern. "I'll be right back, all right?"

"Of course. We will stay here and continue unloading our belongings. I and the Acacia Dragoons thank you deeply."

Inside her tavern, Orlha's treasured blue brooch began to take on a deeper hue, as it ever so slightly glowed with a pale blue light. The inscription on the brooch, until now reading 'Orlha and Tia Forever', gradually began to fade as the glow continued.

Fin

Author's Notes: All reviews, if any, are welcomed but Flames especially are encouraged. No, really. I'm serious.