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Peering into the vastness of what seemed to be an endless, empty expanse of white marble floors beneath a sky of amber and burning orange hue, Vael could only gaze in awe as he walked. Beside him, towering far above him was the form of a massive wolf, her body bound in an ancient form, carried still by four legs - not two - and completely bare of clothing one might have come to expect of a sentient canid.

"So, exactly where am I?" Vael asked, a hint of curiosity and wonder swimming through his voice. "And who are you?" There were so many questions the little white fox wanted to ask, but for the moment these were obviously the most pressing on his mind.

"This is Ephiran, Realm of Dreams. I suppose however your people might know it better as the Astral Plain." explained the wolf, her violet eyes casting their soft gaze over the curious fox for a moment before her lips tugged back across her maw in a sort of smile. "And I am L'Sarrena, the Guardian of this plain of existence."

Shocked, Vael stopped where he stood and stared at the massive wolf - studying her close - while his lips silently repeating her name a few times. He didn't seem to notice her warm smile however, until after he blurted out, "You're one of the six Elementals?!"

"Four," L'Sarrena was quick to correct, a quiet chuckle rippling through her words as she added, "And no, actually I came long before them." Those violet orbs shifted for a moment, peering up at the sky before - almost as an afterthought - she continued to say, "I suppose you could say I am their mother." in a bit softer a tone than the rest of her prior sentence.

Vael's mind was reeling from the thought: Could he really be in the presence of the mother of the beings his people saw as a divine pantheon? He opened his mouth to say more, but found the flow of impending questions stifled as L'Sarrena spoke.

"I know you have questions young one," she said as she lowered herself to the ground, resting her head on her paws before continuing, "But we have little time. There are things you must learn about your world and the affect that your existence would have on them."

Before she could say more, Vael turned to face her, a slight frown evident on his maw as he remarked, "But I'm dead, aren't I?"

"No young one," L'Sarrena spoke through a laugh. "No, you are very much alive or rather, you will be when I return you to your physical form." Her smile faded a moment later as she looked down, noticing a simple crack in the marble floor near her paws. "Before that however, there are things I need to teach you about your world and about yourself."

Vael stood wondering a moment, then slowly lowered himself to the ground to sit cross-legged, his own violet eyes fixed on the enormous white wolf before him as he gave a single nod.

"The power your people call Alchemy - the power your people have been taught to hate - is a precious gift. Those who master it are capable of altering the very nature of reality."

As the large wolf explained, Vael's couldn't help but let his curiosity get the better of him. "Then why allow us to use it?" Caught off guard, L'Sarrena merely tilted her head, giving the white fox a look of confusion, allowing him to continue his question, "If Alchemy is so powerful, why did your children give every mortal born the ability to wield it?"

L'Sarrena's lips curled back in a laugh as she shook her head, amused somehow by the little fox's ignorance. "Because, little one, my children saw the potential your kind hold. They saw true beauty in what you could create and accomplish with their gift and chose to encourage your creative nature." The large wolf gave a moment of pause before explaining. "Alchemy is more than a weapon to be feared young one, it-"

Again Vael cut the wolf off, nodding as he let out a sigh and said, "It is a tool of creation through which all things are formed, I know." reciting the words from some distant memory. "But even the most innocent of tools can become an instrument of destruction."

L'Sarrena shook her head, allowing a soft sigh to escape her before she looked to Vael, "You still have a lot to learn, little one." she mused, a feint smile still present on her lips.

* * *

Clinging to Vael's limp form, Alex sobbed quietly, unable to accept that the fox who had so easily stolen his heart now lay dead in his arms. Even as he felt the warmth beginning to leave the fox, he gave him a gentle shake. "Wake up," he pleaded almost silently.

Lyran watched in silence, he wanted so much to let his friend grieve, to let him dwell and recover in his own time, but he knew it couldn't be. Meronna was under siege even now and he knew that every moment wasted was another moment in which the scales could tip in the Empire's favor. "Alex, we need to keep moving." he finally said quietly, resting a hand on his sobbing friend's shoulder. "Meronna needs you."

"Leave me," Alex sighed, tears still rolling down his cheeks as he laid Vael's body down, wiping the blood away from the white fox's cheek, "I'll catch up after he's put to rest."

Lyran frowned, looking down at Alex with cold eyes - he'd hate himself later for this but for the moment it was necessary - as he reached down to yank the fox to his feet and spin him, gripping him by both shoulders as he shook the warrior prince. "Listen!" Lyran growled, trying to snap the boy out of his grief-stricken state, "If we had the time he would be given the funeral he deserves, but Meronna is in danger! Your people need you to be strong, now more than ever."

Overcome with sorrow and now anger on top of it, Alex slapped Lyran's paws away and shot him a glare that nearly stole his breath, "I said leave me!" he snapped, his voice carrying the weight of a command. "I'm not going to leave Vael to to eaten by beasts! He deserves /far/ more than that!"

Lyran's ears pinned back to his head as the warrior prince yelled at him, his teeth coming to bare as he growled back, "Arrogant little brat! Your father, your own /blood/ could die any moment! You'd hold the burial of some awkward bitch you barely know to be more important than their lives?!"

At that moment, something in the warrior prince snapped and all his pain and anger came out in one vicious swing at Lyran, a swift uppercut slamming into the wolfs jaw and yanking him off his feet, tossing him back a handful of feet. "Don't /ever/ call me that again, Anaari Mutt! I owe Vael my life! Showing him the honor he deserves in death is the /least/ I can do for him!" Anger dripped from his voice and his tone carried an air of finality that made the dazed wolf subconsciously shutter; Alex was indeed his fathers son.

As Alex turned to find something to dig with, Lyran gauged the moment from his place on the ground, glaring at the warrior prince as he muttered, "If he deserves such respect, why not give him a place in the crypts of Meronna?" darkly.

The thought brought Alex to pause in his search, a feint smirk coming to his maw as he nodded. "A grand idea." he mused, making his way over to Vael's body, "He'll have a place of honor among our family."

Lyran would have bitten his tongue clean off had he tried to stifle the sudden, "Are you mad?!" that lept from his mouth, staring at Alex in disbelief, "Honestly, your father would have my head! Do you h-" Before he could finis the thought however he found the tip of Alex's blade hovering a hairs breadth from his nose.

"Then tend your fur before we arrive, mutt! We'll want my fathers newest trophy to look nice when it's mounted on the tavern wall."

* * *

The air of the communal chamber was thick with the smell of rot and mildew, the overpowering scent so out of place against the dark marble floor and pristine ebony walls which surrounded the small altar at it's core. The altar held not but a simple copper slate etched with dozens of deeply-etched runes, the ancient symbols partially filled with a glowing powder.

As a single, robed figure pushed his way past the doors, making his way towards the altar the darkness enveloping the room seemed to shift around him like water. Ripples moved through the abysmal veils of seemingly living shadows, causing them to writhe and when the figure was but half way from the altar the darkness itself brushed the massive doors of the altar closed.

While the glowing runes of the copper slate did nothing to part the darkness which loomed in this place, it seemed the robed figure was accustomed to it, resting a hand at the edge of the slate as he reached the altar. "Vikiran, Olyir Tovaas," the figure spoke, his whispered words causing the light of the runes to fade as he continued. "Ancient one, I call on thee. Awaken, oh god of hatred and rage and recognize your faithful hand."

The darkness writhed around the figure as he continued to chant, his tongue snaking through prayers in languages long forgotten as the shadows around him began to take form. As the last shreds of light left the altar, a booming voice sounded throughout the chamber, shaking the very walls as it said, "Silence, my child. Show me your eyes so I may recognize you."

The figure fell into silence and raised his head, reaching up slowly to lower his hood, revealing the face of a familiar ferret. A dark laugh shook the chamber violently and the voice boomed, "Sigfried," with a hint of wicked glee, "My honored priest. Tell me of your journey."

"We were victorious, my lord." Sigfried began, his lips twisting up into a sinister smile. "The heretic army fell easily enough, the only one of them to truly test my power was their king."

"Glorious," came the voice as the shadows began to twist, forming the gnarled bones of a skeletal form behind the altar slowly. "You've served me well, my priest. Now tell me, what of their children?"

The ferret watched a moment in awe as the bones formed, watching them align a moment before he managed a dark snicker, "Their children were left alive, my lord."

"Alive?" the figure said, seeming confused as the darkness swirled around him, forming the thick layers of heavy robes. "Explain." The figure's voice carried only one word now, but it's anger was easily apparent in its tone.

"They were left alive," Sigfried began with a grin, his eyes beginning to shimmer with a dim crimson glow, "with the knowledge of what the Darkness holds. A banquet of fear in your honor, my lord."

The massive figure - standing now robed in a shroud of living darkness - gave pause for a long moment before a feint laugh escaped him. "Well done, Sigfried. You've pleased me greatly this night."

Sigfried nodded slowly, bowing his head low as he asked, "What else have you for me, my lord?" A feint pause accompanied the words as he gave an upward glance at the towering figure, a thin grin accompanying the next, "I am eager to please you."

* * *

Back on the trail, Lyran at point a few yards ahead of Alex, his eyes on the distance ever alert. Vael's limp body draped over Alex's back, his arms wrapped around the young swordsman's shoulders like a sleeping child. Neither of the two gave the squirrel passing them on the road a second glance, neither believing the unarmed man in the garb of a common bard a threat.

As Alex and the Squirrel passed each other, the bard gave a smile and whispered in a tongue long forgotten. With a start, Vael's heart thumped to life and the once limp figure tensed, the sudden shift of weight toppling Alex to the ground.

Stunned, Alex scrambled to a sitting position, staring at the now dazed white fox as he slowly regained consciousness. His mouth hung open as the white fox looked around, stretching languidly before he turned and threw himself across the swordsman, hugging him tight as he chimed, "Alex! You have no idea how much I've missed you."

Watching the display with a smile, the slender squirrel's eyes suddenly darted to the foliage off the road, giving a sigh as he began to slowly unbutton his shirt, pulling it and his vest off in one fluid movement. His body was well built - the perfect balance between slender and muscular - and boasted near perfection. Not a single scar marred the fiery orange fur along his back and shoulders nor the pearl white fur that shown against his chest and stomach. The only oddity of this particular figure was the intricate black stains which almost looked like wild vines wrapping his forearms, trailing up to a gothic eye stained into the fur between his shoulder-blades.

"Hey wolf," called the squirrel to Lyran, giving him a quick glance with his deep emerald orbs. "Keep your foxy friends safe, would you? Stick close to them and let a real man deal with these Dusters." No sooner had he said this than a volley of arrows rained over the road nearby, barely missing Vael and Alex, the sound of hissing rising from each arrowhead as they hit down, revealing the presence of a deadly poison.

The squirrel merely smiled, his eyes closing as a brilliant aquamarine glow suddenly wrapped his wrists like shackles, the light swiftly cascading up his arms in thin tendrils, linking into the gothic eye on his back as his markings suddenly came alive. A black substance dripped off his hands like ink and formed a pair of razor sharp blades connected to his palms. As his now slitted eyes snapped open, a soldier lunged from the foliage just off the road, only to be caught by the newly formed blades and hurled over the squirrel's shoulder. A sudden scream escaped the first soldier briefly before he slammed against a tree, his cries of pain silenced with the wet pop of his neck snapping from the impact.

Dozens of soldiers swarmed onto the road now, the group a small battalion in size but the squirrel only smiled. "This should be fun," he mused in a calm, melodious voice. "Try not to die too quickly, hmm?"

Enraged, a few of the soldiers rushed the squirrel, their spears and swords poised ready for the killing blow but their rush was cut short as his black blades fell to the ground - once again liquid - and encircled the squirrel, suddenly lunging up in sharp spikes, impaling the rushing soldiers and even cutting a few of them in two from crotch to skull.

Alex and Lyran stared as the slaughter unfurled, watching on in amazement as the slender squirrel called the living ink back to his hands, sending it up through another soldiers jaw and out his head like a spear with the simple motions of an uppercut.

Within moments the Squirrel stood in a ring of corpses, not even their blood daring to trickle over the invisible line the ink had drawn only moments before. As the remaining soldiers turned, attempting to flee in terror, the squirrel gave a mischievous smile and raised his hands, willing the ink to fly after each in tendrils, piercing each of their hearts with solidified needles of the greasy black substance which continued to drip from his fingertips.

As the last of the reptilian soldiers fell dead, Lyran finally jumped up, hands flying to the axes on his belt as he snapped, "What are you?" his words accompanied by a vicious growl.

"A friend," mused the squirrel calmly as the living ink finally began to dissipate, allowing him to gather his shirt and vest and slip them back on easily without soiling them. "Sent by the Mistress of Reialla to accompany you home." Once he had his shirt back on and buttoned, the squirrel fell into a low bow, his sing-song voice carrying a jovial tone as he said, "You, may call me Dante."

Slowly, Lyran's paws relaxed and he let out a soft sigh, shaking his head as he turned, muttering, "I'll scout ahead. Meronna should be just beyond the forests edge."

Their numbers growing, the wolf, the squirrel and the two foxes reached the forests edge by sun down, their eyes finding the smoking ruins of what had once been a glorious city on the horizon. Only one thought crossed their minds at that moment, only one question shared by the four as their hearts sank in their chests: What could have done this to the City of Swords?