It was quiet. And the air within the bedchamber remained still, as if the room itself was a battlefield after all the mighty warriors had fallen. Only a ghastly shaped torch provided any light, but it did very little in chasing away the shadows that gently swept over the walls. With the curtains drawn over the windows, there was no other source of light besides that strange, little torch. Its red flame flickered slightly, perhaps because the silent wind within the room beckoned it to sway, and the fire made shapes upon the walls of things only nightmares showed. The dark nightmares danced over the man in the corner of the room, who was upon his seat, watching the forever-red sky from behind the drapes.

The man stood up, his heavy armor causing the chair to shudder and squeak, as if silently thankful to no longer be supporting such a weight. Pulling back the curtains, just as red as the sky, he placed his gloved hand over the window. He could not feel the icy bite of the glass, but he knew it was bitterly cold this night. With a sigh that seemed to mirror the weight of his armor, the man reached for his helmet, sitting idly upon the table besides him, and placed it upon his head. The dark embrace of his metal cage crept back over him. No matter how powerful he was, no matter how respected and feared, he felt trapped whenever he wore that helmet. In his most thoughtful of moods he had actually dubbed the helmet "his prison". That's what it was, after all. But as strange as it seemed, he could not find it within himself to go one day without the damnable thing.

Perhaps the helmet blinded him to the ugly world he had helped to create. Maybe that was why he wore it constantly; if he could not see all the pain and suffering he had caused to himself and to others, then he could not feel it. And he could continue on for another night.

The man shook his head. What good did thoughts of remorse and regret do now? He had made his choice and for what little it was worth he had seen it through until the end. His fingers, back upon the window again, tightened into a fist. How many years had come and gone since that fateful night? Fourteen? Fifteen? He could no longer remember.

Lord Akin's leather wrapped hand squeaked as it slid down the glass.

"I'm sorry, Decca..."

Olvin shivered as he closed the doors to the library. Pressing his back against those vast doors of the magnificent room, he craned his head upward, almost as if he wanted to examine the walls covered in books, the balconies leading to different sections and the splendidly rendered painting upon the ceiling. From this distance Olvin could not see the assortment of cracks that he was certain split the lovely picture and ruined the wondrous air of the painting. At least he thought it did. The late Queen's beautiful face peered down at Olvin, her powerful eyes piercing through him to his most inner thoughts.

The sage looked away quickly. Did that damnable woman have to be everywhere? He thought Lord Akin would have at least painted over those portraits of her by now, but when it came to that particular subject, the King of Valqua was reluctant and--may the gods have mercy on Olvin for thinking this--even sad somehow. In fact, the Castle of Curia remained true to the way it once looked those years ago. From what Olvin was told, only a few things within the castle had been changed. It had him wondering, as he walked further into the library, just what things had been changed.

The back wall was different from the others, for instead of books it was covered by a vast window; it stretched to cover the wall almost completely and Olvin wandered to it, if only just to watch the ruby sky again. Olvin found himself in the library more often than he would have liked. Lately he had sought solitude, a place where he could simply sit and entertain thoughts he would not dare to share with any other. For hours, it seemed, he would stand by this window and think of those strange people--people he could not erase from his mind.

Decca.

She was interesting. She chose her distorted idea of a family over what power she could have had. At first Olvin had thought her a fool, but since that day at Amyl he had been reconsidering many things. Decca fought for a world that she had never belonged to, to save people who were too damn ignorant to even know they were in danger. Olvin was positive that he could have killed Decca in Amyl, positive that he would have if not for certain things, which had interfered. Still, Decca was a worthy opponent and she and her friends had caused him wounds that had yet to heal. Olvin's hand clutched his stomach. It still hurt.

Asana...

Beautiful, fiery and stubborn woman, who at a number of times had proven herself equal to any warrior with her words alone. Something about her... Olvin couldn't quite understand, but every word she spoke to him made a lasting impression upon his mind, one which would not fade and refused to be altered. Everything Olvin had been taught by Akin and everything he had come to believe in was being tested and distorted by this woman. And he had yet to understand why.

Akin.

His king, his creator, his father. Olvin respected this man, which was natural since a piece of Akin most certainly was inside of the sage. But then why did some distant part of Olvin despise Akin so much? Why was it so that with every time his lord spoke his name he could barely suppress a cringe? Why was there this bit of Olvin that wished to see Akin destroyed? Perhaps it was resentment for being created. There were certain things that were lacking in Olvin, certain things that had the sage almost convinced that Akin just didn't bother to give to him. What did Asana called it again? Emotion? Empathy?

A soul.

Decca had spoken of this before as well. What had she said? Something about how Olvin could not comprehend why she chose the path she did. A soul... Months ago Olvin would have scoffed at that, like he usually did when Asana spoke of such things. And he would have desired nothing more than to be able to do the very same this time. But he couldn't. As much as Olvin hated it and as much as he denied it, something within him had begun to grow and change. And as much as he tried, he could not control it.

I'm losing my mind. Yes... That must be it. Olvin shuddered. Were these the side effects? Did Akin create his little toy to see how long he would last? Akin would make more, much stronger and more capable than he was, this Olvin was certain of. The sage was nothing more than a simple experiment, a test to see how well he would function before he broke. Perhaps the next toy would not be plagued with these burdensome emotions. It had been so at first with Olvin, but it seemed not even he could ward off those burdens from tainting his mind. Yes, the next will be better than I. They will be able to serve Lord Akin without these traitorous thoughts.

"The next will be better..." he whispered. Olvin waited a moment, as if he expected the books to answer him. Would they keep his secrets like they did so many nights before? With no lips they could not speak, but certainly they heard him. There would be more, more toys for Akin to play with. "But...what then becomes of me?"

Olvin realized for the first time that rain was thrashing against the painted glass. When he stepped closer to the window a flash from above illuminated the library. He flinched slightly, as if his king had spoken his name once more.

"What things will the rain drag in?"

Decca, still gripping Kain's hand, stopped before the dais. Anastasia Landford, the only mother she had ever known. She couldn't help wondering just what her mother would have said at this time, what things she would have warned Decca of, what advice she would have given. She let go of Kain's hand and glanced over to him. Kain watched her back, his expression remaining unreadable, but for a fleeting moment she could have sworn she saw him smile.

The stone around her neck glowed softly. A shard of the Crystal of Light remained trapped within the necklace. Did Jorhan know that as well? Decca had planned to tell him, but it must have slipped her mind. It wasn't important at the moment. Jorhan probably already knew this. Decca looked back over her shoulder to the monk and he smiled at her, the shadow of his hood covering those delicately pointed ears of his. Aeolos sat by his feet, his silver head tilted to the side, his golden eyes fixed upon Decca. He was waiting too.

Valzer was next to Rydia, gently guiding the girl along, for the Caller couldn't help but investigate the shrine. With nothing in here to distract her and fearful thoughts forgotten, Rydia's curiosity got the better of her. Valzer flashed his lopsided grin at Decca and quickly pulled Rydia towards the others. Cecil still watched Jorhan warily and Rubin was now besides Decca, placing that fatherly hand upon her shoulder. Decca felt her heart drop to the floor. This was it. There was no going back now.

She ascended the few cracked and split steps, watching that strange gateway, the one which had haunted her dreams and tormented the darkest parts of her mind. The stone's light grew brighter. Decca raised her hands, as if she wished to touch something she couldn't quite grasp. There was no door there anymore, no powerful spell blocking their way, no seal to be broken. And when she stepped forward into the empty doorway, nothing save air brushed past her face. Decca breathed in the sweet forest scent. It had been home for so long. This had been her world for as long as she could remember.

She closed her eyes and stepped onto the stone bridge, the drifting light from the outside covering her completely in its warm glow.

If anyone would have asked her, Decca would never have been able to describe what thoughts filled her mind, what small fragments of memories flashed before her very eyes. For a moment, she could not tell which memories were real, or which were the dreams that had plagued her for so long. And then she was there, as if she had never walked, only floated. The mossy and ancient bridge was behind her now, behind her friends, who had followed her silently. In a distant part of Decca's mind she wondered if she would ever see that bridge again.

The tower looked the same; the small and cramped place lit with those two unforgettable torches, the light of the fire seemingly dancing with Decca's every move. Shadows floated past her and glided along the walls, as if they were guiding Decca along to the podium, to where the Crystal of Light had once been kept. There was nothing there, of course, but Decca had almost thought she would see it again, lying idly upon that cold, marble pedestal. Gently the tips of her fingers touched the flat surface of the podium and instantly a chill shot through her hand and up her arm. Gasping, Decca quickly drew back.

"What? What's wrong?" Valzer's voice, louder than he had intended, split the silence, nearly like a thunderous roar, and everyone within the room jumped instinctively. The wizard pursed his lips together tightly and smiled. "Sorry..." he whispered.

Kain grinned slightly, and he heard Rubin's quiet chuckle. The old wizard's warm laugh relaxed the Dragoon Knight somewhat, but the weighty air of the small room pressed down upon them, and soon everyone fell to silence once more. Decca hardly even blinked; it was as if she hadn't heard Valzer's voice. She stared for a moment longer, her emerald eyes fixed upon the marble and its empty hand, and then looked away and back to Jorhan.

But Kain asked the question before the elf had the chance to. "What happens now?"

"I reopen the portal," Jorhan simply said.

"A portal?" Valzer's eyes shifted from Jorhan to Decca, then back to the strange monk. "How? Where?"

"Here," came Jorhan's snapped reply. "Where the hell else did ya think?"

"Obviously." Valzer smiled, his white teeth showing orange in the light of the room. He knew where, he simply meant where in the room. "And how? You didn't answer that." When the monk grunted, Valzer's smile only widened.

Rubin intervened before Valzer's lighthearted quips irritated Jorhan more so. "He simply meant where in this room will you choose to do so," Rubin explained for his young friend. "And I too am...interested in how you will do this. Am I to presume that you selected this particular spot for a reason, Jorhan?"

The monk snorted, then whipped around to where Decca stood. "Indeed, wizard. There is no other spot on this world of yours that can open a portal to this particular place. It seems when Asana opened the gateway on the other side those years ago, it created a tear that never truly healed." Jorhan reached out towards Decca, his pointer finger tracing down the air before the elf, though his real intentions where to indicate where exactly the tear occurred, not to draw attention to Decca. "Right where you stand, Lady..." Jorhan stepped back a few spaces, causing Cecil, Rydia and Valzer to the very same. Where he looked was the back of the circular room, and he pointed with a shaking hand towards the ground beneath Decca's feet.

There were strange markings etched into the stone floor, symbols worn with age and covered with the thick fingers of moss, which had found their way around the splits in the ground, nearly as if they were intertwining with the ancient symbols.

"I marked the spot so I would remember." Jorhan bent down and Aeolos immediately sniffed the markings, shook his silvery coat and trotted over to Decca's legs. With one swift movement of his hand, the monk brushed away years of corrosion. "Eera trie hunin." His pronunciation of each word was rich with sadness and memories. "This way home..." He looked up at Decca, who watched him sullenly.

She bowed her head. This was the same place she had stood those months ago, the exact spot where she had left a grief-stricken brother and sister, a bewildered king and her guardian angel.

Jorhan met with her stare. "And now for the final piece..." He rose to his full height again and held out his hand towards Decca. "Your necklace, my dear."

Decca was confused for only a brief moment, then her hand instinctively went to her throat and the golden chain that hung from it. Once she pulled it out from beneath her shirt, the shimmer of the stone showed over all of their faces, making even Decca's skin seem pale in its brilliant glow. As Decca had already guessed, Jorhan knew of the stone. And Decca had only one question for him at that moment.

"Who gave me this?" She slipped the necklace over her head in one fluent motion and held the glowing stone within her cupped hands. Like liquid gold the chain dipped out from in-between her curled fingers.

As she passed the trinket over to his awaiting hands, Jorhan quickly looked away from her, and in a raspy voice, "You already know that answer, Decca."

Decca swallowed hard. Mother...

"You may not remember your birth mother, but..." Jorhan's hands began to shake slightly and he turned his back to her. "She looked just like you. She placed a piece of the Light Crystal in that stone so that you would always be guided home again. And you were... But I fear it might be fourteen years too late." The monk's face contorted when another wave of pain literally knocked the wind out of him.

"Jorhan?" Decca laid a hand upon his slumped shoulders.

"It'll...pass," he managed to say between his clenched teeth. Aeolos poked his master's side with his nose and whined. Jorhan smiled slightly and placed a hand upon his wolf's head. A moment later, though, both of his hands went to the floor, clutching the already split and cracked ground.

Rubin kneeled before the crippled body of the monk and placed a hand over his forehead. "I can't cure you, but I can take away a little of the pain." The wizard's lips lifted in a modest smile, "that is to say I can manipulate the pain. I can trick your mind into thinking it doesn't hurt as much as it truly does."

Jorhan managed a grin. "An interesting wizard's trade..."

"A magician's trade," Rubin corrected.

"Heh. Not an ordinary wizard?"

"There are not many of us magicians left in this world. We do exist, though. We are not as powerful as the wizards and the sages, but we get by." Rubin removed his hand once Jorhan's shaking lessoned. "They call me a wizard nonetheless." The old man rose to his feet and smoothed the wrinkles from out his robe. "Now, I think we've stalled long enough. How about we open that gateway, hmm?"

Jorhan, with the help of Decca and Kain, got to his feet once more. And though Decca looked at him with concern, the monk shrugged them both off. "I'm fine... I'm fine." He glanced at the gem within his hands, then sighed in the realization. He couldn't possibly open this gate without help. The monk waved for Decca to follow him and with one gesture told the others to stay in their places.

Kain frowned and for a moment contemplated pushing Jorhan against a wall and demanding to know just what he was so reluctant to tell. But he couldn't. As much as he wish to at that moment, and as much as his fingers twitched when Jorhan placed his hands on Decca's shoulders and stepped uncomfortably close to her, Kain managed to find the inner strength to contain himself. He shot a quick glance towards Valzer, who looked back with just as much concern, though the wizard's came from a completely different love than his. Kain folded his arms and remained still as he watched Decca and Jorhan. Couldn't that monk ask someone else to help him?

Jorhan was whispering something to Decca and the elf nodded her understanding. The monk, still with Decca's necklace wrapped around his fingers like some sort of holy reliquary, stood before the strange symbols. With his other hand, Jorhan gently grabbed Decca's wrist. They stood there for some time before the monk spoke again, but once he did the words were no longer in the common tongue. Ancient and profound words rolled from out his mouth with such force and speed that even Decca had trouble understanding their meaning. Finally, with what seemed to be a slight gasp, Jorhan ended his enchantment, gripping Decca's arm harder than he had intended.

Decca, however, neither flinched nor complained. She was so enthralled within the spell that the fact that Jorhan was still next to her no longer registered within her mind. There was nothing around Decca now but the cold familiarity of unwavering, bleak darkness. For a moment she felt a small twinge a panic, of abandonment. There was no one there, nothing save for the silky embrace of shadows. That feeling, though, did not last long, for soon after the warming touch of light found its way back to conquer the dark.

It was then that Decca gasped. Not out of fear of the unknown, but out of the overpowering sensation that the spell wound around her. She couldn't breathe. Her first instinct was the raise her hands to her throat, but she could not lift up her arms perchance the spell be ruined. So she settled for her second instinct. She closed her eyes and forced herself to calm down; it was a spell, a simple spell and nothing more. Once Decca was calmed she opened her eyes, but because of the sudden intensity of the light within the room, she was forced to blink rapidly before she could regain her bearings.

Decca felt herself being gently moved forward. No, not moved. Pulled. Then someone's arms wrapped around her waist.

"No. Not without me." Kain whispered in her ear. "We'll go through together."

"Hurry!" Jorhan's voiced forced Kain and Decca to look at him and for the first time they realized that the now opened portal was creating such a loud, thunderous noise that it was nearly impossible to be heard without yelling. The monk was kneeling on the ground, looking up at them, Decca's necklace beneath his fist. "Before it closes! I don't know how long it will stay open!"

Decca didn't think twice upon hearing that. Home. She was too close now to reconsider things. She watched the swirling mass of blue and white energy for a moment longer, then walked through. In the instant she did, she could feel Kain's hand slip away from hers. There was a flash of white, followed by the darkness. There was nothing now and Decca was vaguely reminded of the dream she had had those nights ago. Would she open her eyes to that strange, suffocating hallway once more? Or would it be the open field with the woman she had never gotten the chance to know? The nearly maddening silence lasted for a second more before it was replaced by the soft patter of rain. Decca opened her eyes.

The color red watched her back.