Sorry for the long wait. I had a draft ready two weeks ago, but when I read it, I realized it sucked. I had to scrap the whole thing and start over. Hopefully this one is better.

Standard disclaimer applies.

--

One week later…

The snowstorm battered the border town of Cuwo relentlessly. Few people, wrapped in layers of heavy clothing, trudged through the deep banks of snow, the rest huddled safely in the confines of their homes. Smoke wisped into the air from stone chimneys, the only other indication that people inhabited this rural area. The largest building in the town had a single door, with a wooden sign creaking in the wind. Ike pulled his cloak tighter to his body, struggling against the unforgiving cold as he pushed on towards the tavern.

Like most other Ilian inns, the Rusted Bucket was a rather unpleasant sight. Function over form was prevalent even to strangers. Tables with somewhat shady characters at their seats were scattered across the floor. Smoke hovered like a blanket above the heads of the patrons, unable to escape the windowless establishment. The bartender, a rather skinny, aged owner, was wiping a rather grimy glass with an already dirty rag.

Still, the normally distasteful appearance of the Rusted Bucket was rather inviting when those outside were regularly bombarded with snow and cold winds, as the inhabitants of Ilia experienced. Travelers, like Ike, were the innkeeper's favorite customers. Unlike the locals, who only came to drink and use up his floor space, those from away always wanted a room, and were generally agreeable to his inflated prices. Anything to get out of the cold.

Ike pushed the door open, the gusting wind sweeping through the inn. Previously warm patrons glared at the newcomer letting in the chilly air. Ike ignored the hard stares, closing the oaken door behind him. Slowly, he strode towards the bar, snow sprinkling off his shoulders and the top of his blue hair. Ike sat himself at one of the stools, laying his pack beside him.

The bartender ambled over, a relatively clean glass in hand. "What'll it be, friend?"

Ike reached into a pouch with Etruria's royal seal stitched onto it. Pulling out two gold coins, he slid them towards the bartender, who picked them up carefully, biting down on them to insure their value. "Warm food and information."

The bartender nodded knowingly. It wasn't the first time someone came into the Rusted Bucket for information, nor would it be the last. He waved over to the young girl giving requested drinks to the other patrons. "Reika, tell that good-fer-nothin' cook ta whip somethin' up." The young girl nodded before heading to the back disappearing into the rear of the tavern. The bartender turned back to his latest patron, filling the glass in hand with one of his cheaper ales. "Well, friend, what is it that ya want ta talk about?" He pushed the full glass towards Ike.

The swordsman took the proffered beverage, sipping its contents before answering. "I'm looking for someone. A woman."

The bartender smirked at that. Even here in the arctic lands of Ilia, the cold couldn't stamp out the hot-bloodedness in men. "Ah, I hear ya. Just pay fer a room, and I'll send one of 'em right up."

Ike stared at the bartender, eyes widening slightly for a second before shaking his head. "No, not like that. This one's a friend of mine."

Slightly disappointed at the loss of more business, the man nodded. "Alright, what she look like?"

"Violet hair, shoulder-length, almost comes to my shoulder in height. Should be carrying a sword on her hip."

"Would I remember her?"

"What do you mean?"

The bartender sighed. "Is she easy on the eyes?"

"Oh." Ike adopted a thoughtful gaze, as if contemplating how to respond, before nodding. "Yeah, she is. Why is that important?"

The bartenderlaughed. "I ain't gonna bother with an ugly girl." He put down the glass he was cleaning, reaching for another to take its place. "Now, I don't know about any pretty swordswomen passing through here, but a lot of the local mercs have been gettin' work lately, outside of Ilia. Easy enough to find a client nowadays."

Ike took a swig of the ale. "Lot of mercenaries around here?"

The bartender glanced away from the glass he was cleaning, eyes wandering to the other patrons. "Main source of income fer Ilia, they are. Without the mercs, Ilia would have nothin'."

The serving girl returned from the back, holding a plate and a few utensils. She set the food in front of Ike, smiling as she did so. "Here you go, sir."

Ike nodded curtly. "Thank you." He turned back to the bartender. "Would they have more information?"

The man behind the counter shrugged. "Maybe. Hard ta say."

Ike picked up the fork and the knife, cutting the meat on the plate into more manageable bites. The fork sunk into one of the pieces, before Ike placed the cut into his awaiting mouth. "Can you refer me to who you think might know more?"

The bartender picked up another glass, absently wiping the grime off. "Ta tell the truth, a group of fellas have been hirin' mercs by the boatload lately. If yer friend's a warrior, she probably met with 'em."

Ike nodded, chewing on another piece of the meat. "Where are they?"

The bartender motioned to the left of Ike, up the stairs. "They paid for a couple o' rooms upstairs. If ya wanna talk with 'em, be ready ta pay." The man shivered. "They ain't too friendly."

Ike swallowed the last of the food before him, not bothering with finishing the rest of the ale. Standing up, he grabbed the strap of his pack, swinging it onto his left shoulder. "I'll keep that in mind."

Each of the rickety steps groaned underneath Ike as he ascended the stairs, making his way to the men upstairs. There was a lull in activity on the first floor. Ike could feel several pairs of eyes on his back. No hostile intent as far as he could tell, but the air became slightly heavier, the tension rising slightly. As he reached the top, the door of the room closest to the stairs opened, revealing a man with a jagged scar across his face, shadowed by the hood that rested upon his head. He stopped him at the top of the stairs. "State your business."

"I'm looking for information on a mercenary that may have passed through here. I was told you might know."

The man didn't answer back immediately. Instead, he circled around Ike, giving him a once-over. When he returned in front of Ike, he faced him, his arms crossed. "And what do we receive in return for such information?"

Ike grasped the pouch at his side. "I'll pay for your time."

The hooded individual laughed. "You don't have enough to hire the resources of the Black Fang."

Black Fang, huh? "Well, then I'm sorry for disturbing you." Ike turned, and began to descend back down the stairs. On the third step down, the man called out to him.

"Wait." Ike turned around. "You may not have the gold for such a service, but perhaps a deal could be met."

Ike crossed his arms. "Explain."

"A trade of services, so to speak. You seem to be a capable fighter. Therefore, if you will help us with our problem, we will look for your friend."

"What sort of problem?"

"Well, I cannot give you the details, but suffice to say, we are to recover the property of our client."

Ike's eyebrows furrowed. "This property, is it the living kind?"

A small chuckle escaped the man's lips. "An idealist, eh?" He waved his hand. "No worries, this property is not of the human variety."

Ike couldn't feel any deception from the man, but he knew he wasn't the best at reading people either. "Assuming I accept, what would my part of this job entail?"

The individual gestured into the room, pushing the previously closed door open. "Such things shouldn't be discussed openly. Let us speak in private."

Ike cautiously entered the room. The hooded man followed him in, locking the door as he entered. Below them, the sounds of the other patrons increased considerably, breaking the tension in the air.

--

The priest ambled over his head bowed in Lyn's direction. "As a token of my thanks, you may lay your hands upon the Mani Katti. Pray for a safe journey."

The hilt was the only part of the weapon that was visible, the rest sheathed in a stone scabbard. "Are you sure?"

The priest smiled. "You saved the temple from those horrible men. It is the least I can do to repay your bravery."

Noticing her reluctance, Kent placed his hand on Lyn's shoulder. "Lady Lyndis, I am not aware of the cultural significance of this relic, but it is obviously held in high regard. If it brings us luck, please do not hesitate."

Lyn didn't reply, but stepped towards the altar, hand outstretched. The blade's aura pulsated as she drew closer, magnifying in strength as her hand closed around the hilt. With the contact of skin against metal, the hilt began to give off a golden hue, brightening in sequence with the pulses of its aura.

Sain stared in awe at the development. "In St. Elimine's name…"

Mia turned to the priest, who looked just as astonished as the rest. "Hey, what's going on?"

The priest's mouth was wide open. Anyone could tell he had not expected this. "I cannot believe it." He turned towards Lyn, who was afraid to move from her spot, fearing she angered the spirits. "The spirits of the Mani Katti have chosen you!"

Lyn's head snapped up from the altar, shocked at the priest's revelation. "What? The Mani Katti has chosen…me?"

The priest smiled deeply. "Never in my long life did I ever think I would see the Mani Katti actually choose a wielder. Truly, you are a special woman, Lyn of the Lorca."

--

"That's a wicked blade!"

Lyn could only nod in agreement as she gazed in wonder at the fabled weapon in her hand as they exited the temple. The rays of the sun as they came out shined upon the Mani Katti, illuminating its unmarred surface.

Kent leaned closer, admiration on his face. "Indeed, Lady Mia. A truly marvelous artifact."

"Are you finished?"

The group turned to Mark, splayed on the grass, relaxing by Kent and Sain's horses. Mia waved to him. "Hey Mark, we're back."

Mark nodded, pulling his upper body into a sitting position. "Were you allowed to do as you wished, Lyn?"

Lyn, still a bit flustered about affair with the Mani Katti, unknowingly ignored Mark's question in favor of gazing at her new weapon. Now curious, Mark turned to the others, his confusion written all over his face. Sain was the first to speak.

"Lady Lyndis has acquired the Mani Katti. Clearly this is good fortune that will bear us to success on our perilous journey."

Mark turned towards Lyn, his eyes glancing at the blade. "Very beautiful." He swiftly turned back to the animals, grabbing their reins. "We should be off. We're still a ways off from Lycia."

Kent nodded, accepting the reins of his steed from Mark. "Yes. Lundgren will not allow us to rest peaceably. We must make haste to Caelin."

Later that day…

The sun cast a long shadow as the group headed west towards the Taliver Mountains. Kent and Sain were in front, walking beside their horses, seeing as the animals were already carrying the party's supplies. Lyn, Mark, and Mia followed behind them. Mark would occasionally move towards the front of their small formation to briefly speak with the two knights, but then would silently fall back to the side of the two swordswomen.

The Mani Katti was resting in Lyn's sheath, her old blade carried by Kent's horse. The novelty of her new weapon still lingered in her mind, but it was no longer enough to blind her to her surroundings, as it had with Mark previously. In particular, she noticed Mia's somewhat pensive frown. In fact Lyn had been aware of it for a while. The concern written on Mia's face seemed out of place to her, used to seeing a smile on her companion. At first, she dismissed it. After all, everyone had problems, and though Mia was always cheerful, it didn't surprise Lyn to find that Mia had her own worries. But as the hours had passed, the poignant expression stuck with Mia, and Lyn's concern returned.

"You okay, Mia?"

The woman beside her jumped a little, startled by her voice. "H-huh? What's up?"

Lyn placed a hand on Mia's shoulder. "Is something bothering you?" Is it your lost companion?

Mia laughed. "Oh. I'm just tired, that all. Nothin' to worry about."

Mia's reply sounded a bit forced to Lyn. Still, she did not to push it. "Alright." She glanced at the sun, its rays growing dimmer as its body passed the horizon. "It's nearly dark. I guess we should set up camp."

This time, both of them jumped in surprise as Mark's voice came from behind them. "Not here. Best would be an open area off the path."

"Geez, Mark!" Lyn put a hand to her chest. "Don't sneak up on us like that!"

Mark looked at her curiously. "I was beside you all this time, and you didn't realize?"

Lyn bristled. "You don't speak for hours, and expect us to keep track of you?"

Mark shrugged. "I guess not." He pointed off the trail to the north. "Sain spotted a pasture over there. Best we spend the night there."

Lyn glanced in the direction Mark pointed. "Sounds fine." She turned to Mia. "Sound good, Mia?"

The swordswoman didn't respond immediately, the pensive expression back on her face. But before Lyn could ask what wrong, Mia perked up. "Sounds good." She let off a yawn. "I could use some sleep." Mia headed towards the field, leaving Lyn wondering what just happened.

"What's wrong with Mia?"

Lyn shook her head, concern seeping into her voice. "I'm not sure, Mark, but something's bothering her."

"Her missing companion?"

"That'd be my guess." Lyn turned to the tactician. "What should we do?"

Mark shrugged in response. "What can we do? Her friend was lost at sea. For all we know, he has been dead since then." Mark paused, watching Mia's shrinking form. "She is no doubt considering that possibility. The best we can hope for is the good fortune that they will find each other." Mark gestured towards the field. "Come. It's not wise to separate from the group."

--

Ike stared through the window beside his bed, watching the snow falling in the night sky, reflecting the light of the fire in his room. The wind from the day's storm had died to a gentle breeze, swaying the snowflakes lazily.

"Made yourself comfortable, I see."

Ike didn't bother to turn around. View's better this way. "What is it?"

The man chuckled. "So unfriendly. And here I thought you would be grateful for our help."

Now Ike did turn around. "What help? The only thing I've done here so far is waste my time."

The hooded man raised his hands in appeasement. "Now, now, no need to be impatient. We still need a week to prepare."

"Why?"

The man moved to the small fireplace, kneeling in front of it and staring into the embers of the fire. "Such information, though easy to find, is hard to pass on to this part of Elibe." He grabbed the poker leaning to the side, jabbing into the dying flames. "I'm sure someone in our organization has already located your friend, but it will take a while to communicate that information."

Ike turned back to the window, getting tired of the conversation. "I hope you'll have the whereabouts of my friend soon then."

The man stood up, brushing off the stray burnt wood shaving that had fallen upon him. "Don't worry, you will get what you came for." He strode towards the door. "Just remember your part of the plan, and everything will go smoothly." The door slid shut as that last sentence left the hooded man's lips, ending the conversation.

Ike frowned, the beauty of the outside losing its appeal. He fell onto the bed next to the window, its lumpy texture molding unevenly to his back. He stared up at the ceiling, the shadows of the fire dancing along the panels above him. Ike shifted to his side, pulling his cloak around his body. His eyes slowly drifted shut, and his mind wandered to dreams of friends left behind and a companion lost.

Hope this chapter was to your liking. Until next time.