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POV Aiko

August 17, 1100. Western Highlands, Bælan.

The next two days seemed to be much alleviated from the previous. Come morning, my legs were feeling slightly better, which was at least enough for me to relieve Bodey of his ferrying liabilities. At the rate that we were able to travel, I figured that we would be out of enemy occupation in three to four days, and another one after that would probably be enough to get us to the capital, seeing as that was the now major destination from our current direction of travel, at least according to my understanding of our position. As I soon learned, Bodey's instincts weren't as particularly adept at navigating as mine were.

"You sure we're going the right way, wolfy?" he asked me from behind, as I had taken the liberty of leading our expedition. My ears perked up at his choice of nickname; it reminded me of Ruby, who would often call me the same thing. "Yes, I'm sure. The outlying capital district should be within our reach in several days, at our current pace."

Bodey inhaled deeply and sighed. "If you say so."

The majority of our trek had been silent, although I did get the impression that my striped, feliform friend may have been warming up to me. However, the lack of communication didn't necessarily bother me, at least not at the time being. With my head starting to clear up from yesterday's fogginess, I began to ponder about where I was, and where I best focus my attention to once we arrived to safety. Amongst many other things, my mind was foremost drawn to three key issues: my family down in Aurro, my mother in Hakúmo, and the dangerous intel that I had received about the long-lost treasure of my forebears. I can't pursue them all at once, that much is certain. I need to identify my priorities. I stepped on a fallen branch, which made a rather protrusive cracking noise underneath my feet. Assuming that my family took my orders seriously and stayed put, they'll be within occupied territory. As long as they don't try fighting them or anything like that, they should be safe. If they managed to escape before their forces got there however, they would also be safe. In conclusion, I shouldn't have to worry about them for the time being. They can take care of themselves.

I looked up at the clear, sunny sky that shone through the treetops above as I walked. This leaves the artifact and my mother. If Rodlan finds out that I deceived him, then mother will be dead. If he falsified his words, then mother is already dead. At this point in the war, I wouldn't stand a chance at making it to Hakúmo alive. The whole situation is far to variable to outway the importance of the artifact. So...forgive me, mother. What I have done, and what I must do is in the best interest of all of Theria's peoples.

I had made my decision: I had to go find the artifact and secure its safety before anyone else could hope to acquire it. But I knew all too well that it wouldn't be that simple. I have little guidance as to where the artifact really is, and even if I did know, it wouldn't be easy to get into the ruins unnoticed. I would need help. Someone that I can trust. Even if I knew where they were, I was far too resilient to accept the possibility of my family helping me in a situation that would put them at risk. If not them, then who?

By the hands of some subconscious force, I briefly cocked my head around to look at the tiger that followed my footsteps from several yards behind. He caught my gaze and returned it in confusion, causing me to feel awkward about my actions and turn back to the trail that we blazed. Nonetheless, the thought perplexed me. I could ask him. He seems trustworthy...and by his whole "honorable knight" thing, it seems that if he's convinced that he's doing the right thing, he'd do it. However, suspicious wavered through my mind as well. How would I explain my knowledge of all this to him, or as to why I was captured? I can't tell him about my heritage; that's too risky. But then- Gah, what should I do?

"Hey, Aiko," he asked me over heavy footsteps, curing whatever worries I had about initiating the conversation myself. "Yeah?"

"I've been meaning to ask you. For what rationale were you being held in Windstrom's prison by?" he questioned. "Well, umm..." I responded as I tried to devise the proper response before my overstayed silence instantiated to the point of his suspicion. "Furthermore," he continued, not allowing me to state my case. "Why was this of any concern to me or the Bælanian military? I was expecting to find a prison full of important personnel, and instead I only found you. It seems unlikely tha-"

"Wait a minute," I interrupted, ceasing to walk in order to turn around and confront him. "You mean your forces were sent all the way to Windstrom, just for me?" I almost laughed at the thought. He ushered me to continue walking, which I reluctantly did.

"First of all, they weren't my forces that attempted an invasion of Aey'Áris. They were Bælanian; I'm simply a member of the Uthalian forces that was sent to assist them and represent an act of good faith towards Bælan," he stated blankly. My mind rung with the sound of a metaphorical bell. So he's Uthalian, eh? I guess that explains the accent. "Second off," he continued harshly; his baritone voice almost sounded like it was attacking my presence. "We weren't just sent to find your prison. We were already on a mission to take back the southern half of Aey'Áris. You're pit stop was an merely an accessory added on at the last minute."

"Alright, sounds interesting enough," I said, trying to match his tone of severity. "Now I suppose you want to hear my story?"

"Why yes, please. Enlighten me," he mumbled back.

"Well, I'm Árisian; grew up there too," I lied. "I've spent the past couple years living down in south-western Bælan. I attempted to make my way up to my mother's village, Hakúmo. I wanted to make sure that she was okay, but when I was in a Bælanian town near the border, I was abducted by an Agu Morran spy." I paused to see if Bodey had any comments to add, but he remained silent. I continued. "He interrogated me about an ancient weapon. You may know of it; it's called the artifact."

"The artifact?" Bodey asked, stopping. I stopped too and looked back at him.

"Yes. It was a powerful weapon, equal to the powerful stones of nobi-"

"I know what the bloody artifact is, I'm not ignorant!" he scolded.

"Alright! Calm down, won't you? Anyways," I continued. "It's come to my attention as of late that this war has more to it than meets the eye. This isn't just about territorial disputes, or the continuation of Liaran genocide. I believe that they're searching for the artifact."

This time, it was Bodey that stopped in his tracks. In somewhat of a derisive mockery, I waved my paw towards him to continue his stroll whilst he contemplated the matter at hand. We continued.

After a long period of silence, Bodey acknowledged my concern. "I guess that would make sense. If that thing really is still around and half as powerful as people make it out to be, then it's exactly the kind of reckless thing that Polimatus and Orrako would be insane enough to do." He paused, then asked me a question that almost stopped my heart. "And might I ask, why would someone like you know so much of ancient Liaran society as to be the victim of interrogation to such a conspiracy?"

Dammit, no! Why'd you have to ask that?

"Well..." I said, trying to think of yet another lousy excuse for my disposition. I can't let him know! There's only one other way...

"I'm a mage," I said confidently. From a peak to the side of my visual perception, Bodey's head shot up from his feat of ground-gazing to observe me preposterously. "As such, I've studied quite a fair amount about their ancient civilization. They're culture was actually quite fascinating," I added, trying to add flavor to my response. Bodey remained silent for several minutes. I began to grow worried about how valid my words had come across as.

What could he be thinking...

POV Bodey

-XXX-

A bloody mage, of all possible things! It couldn't just be that he's an annoying little rascal, he's also one of those nature-twisting good-for-nothings.

I wanted to say something back to him, but my mind was too caught up in trying to analyze what actually hid beneath the words of the arctic wolf.

There's definitely at least some truth behind his words; that is for certain. However, something about his story seems off. When I asked him about the source of his knowledge, his ears went flat against his head...

They did, didn't they? Suspicious, yes...but it was kinda cute, too.

GAH! Get out of my head! Okay, think serious, focused thoughts Bodey...it seems more likely than not that he has at least some Liaran blood in him; if not for the story and the signs he gave away when he excused himself of that heritage, then his fur is another dead giveaway of northern descent. It simply begs the question...exactly what would I do with a Liaran? Of course, we've been defending the Liarans in our kingdom from the hands of the northern alliance; that was one of the reasons we went to war in the first place. Beyond that, they still generally get treated pretty poorly, be that in Uthalia or anywhere else in the mainland. Marvhalien would have us reveal any known Liarans to her immediately...but he doesn't fall under our jurisdiction, either. Hmm...

"Aiko," I finally said. "How certain are you that this conspiracy is real?"

"I have no evidence against it. Everything that I saw and experienced was pretty conclusive, at least for my tastes," the wolf said, giving off a small shiver.

"Alright," I said. "I'd say that given the potential risk that this poses to the mainland and possibly all of Theria, both of us best check in with Bælanian forces and King Bauxtaurus, first thing when we get back. Agreed?"

"Sounds like a plan, big guy," Aiko confirmed.

POV X

Internment Camp in Arrok'Víl, South-Eastern Agu Morra

Every day since his capture, King Llarene of Aey'Áris was confused by his unique situation. In normal circumstances, someone as prominent of royalty like him would be held somewhere else, be that for the purposes of interrogation, hostage value or any other political reasons. However, this unique case granted the king the experience of being thrown into not a high-security prison, but instead a labor camp, where he worked side-by-side with his fellow Árisians.

He very fondly remember the day from several weeks back, when his castle had been stormed by soldiers clad with both the blue of a deep abyss and the red of dried blood; each fitting colors for the nations of which the descriptions applied. When they arrived as his throne, the king made no move of hostility; he was but a gentle and frail old otter who believed in peace above all else, and fighting had never been his way. He expected anything other than what the warriors gave him: a sword through his gut, a plead for mercy, an order of obedience in the name of information that might've been useful to them. He got none of such things; instead, he was simply taken away and carted off to Agu Morra, where had been ever since.

His son, Ahren, had been less fortunate. He was a warrior by heart, and he had died in the line of battle defending the castle. Llarene's wife had died several years ago, leaving him with only his young daughter Aileen to protect.

Still, there was something oddly comforting about living in the camp. Life still had much to be desired, of course; but the mere presence of other Árisians was much more than he could've hoped for. Amongst the labor that they completed each day, Llarene could be seen working amongst the people of his nation. When he passed by them during the day, they would always nod in his presence. There was no bow or pledge of Árisian allegiance that was needed to be made. They often just passed on a "your majesty" with their words, or even something as simple as a "hello" could often be seen, accompanied by a small but hopeful smile. Llarene, for one, enjoyed being treated as an equal for once; with some people, small conversations even began to form about things as fickle and inordinate as the weather on that particular day.

In their freetime, his people would often ask for him to give small oration in a hidden location, away from the watchful eyes of Sentries. Llarene would talk of a day when the war would be turned around, and they would be freed from the agonies of this life to once again thrive in freedom. Although he was an equal to the others in the perspectives of himself and the Agu Morrans, his people still revered him with glee. Llarene felt their admiration: as long as both his people and his beloved daughter Aileen could still smile, he would continue to cling onto hope.

Llarene regained his hold on reality after being lost deep in thought. The presence of another figure sitting next to him as he sipped the beverage in his paws had awoken the mustelid from a deep trance; however, it was no misdeed to the the king, as he was quite fond of the feline in question.

"Hello, Emily," Llarene croaked out in a raspy yet gentle voice.

"Why good morning, your majesty," spoke a soothing, feminine voice. "How are you?"

"I'm doing fine, as always." Llarene smiled at her. "You don't need to call me 'your majesty', you know. Halden works just fine."

"I know, I know...it just seems strange to call you anything else," the ocelot chuckled. "And how about you?" the king added.

"I guess I'm fine too, besides the fact that I'm getting really sick of attending to the laundry station every single day."

"Hmm..." Llarene mumbled, gazing down on the warm cup of tea in his paws. "Emily, how many Liaran children have you raised?" the king asked. "I'm just curious, of course, being a father for quite a few years myself."

"Ah, yes! Hmm..." she said as she paused to think. "Thirteen, if I'm not mistaken, plus one more that was just an ordinary orphan." Her response perplexed Llarene. To have raised so many kids, and with the cation of the both stigma and the law at her back, as well? I can only imagine the extent of her dedication.

"Emily...I've done some things in the past. Things that I haven't been very proud of, in regards to the Liarans," Llarene said, beginning his anecdote. Emily tilted her head towards him, listening carefully. "Liarans...their ancestors might have created something that was both vile and catastrophic for Theria. But that was almost a hundred years ago!" the king explained dramatically. "After one hundred years of all this killing, slaughtering, dismissal, and rejection...whatever possible evil used to exist there, it's gone. And it surpassed the point of being morally correct a very long time ago." The king paused, and Emily placed her paw on his as a display of the friendship that the odd duo had come to share. "As soon as this war is over, I'm gonna do what should have been done a long time ago and free those poor souls. And..." His voiced trailed off as his emotions began to kick in. He looked over to Emily. "I want you to help me."

"Of course I'll help you, Halden." A grin spread across the thin muzzle of the ocelot. The king smiled back, before being pulled into an embrace between the two of them.

Even if I don't survive to see the end of this, it'll be for you, Aileen. A better, more peaceful world for my daughter...it's what gives me hope.

POV Aiko

August 18th, 1300. Western Highlands, Bælan.

When Bodey first said the word "lunch" my stomach began to jump up and down in joy and shouted out "fuck yeah!" in all of it's pure, uncensored enthusiasm that it could spare. An hour later, we sat next to a small log fire in the vast forest, munching on some cooked rabbit and dried leaves like good 'ol pales. Mhmm! Sounds delicious, right?

No?

Well, to such a lowly and unardent response, my stomach would scold you with "Well, maybe you would think differently if you hadn't eaten a whole lot of ACTUAL FOOD in weeks!" (Side Note: "Aiko's Stomach ™" doesn't actually do any of those things, and is anthropomorphized for the purposes of making a statement. Okay?)

"Y'know, it all makes sense now," Bodey said as he devoured his meal lustfully. "With you being a mage, and all. It's where you get all of your strength; anyone else so small and light-boned wouldn't have survived through everything that you just did."

"Hang on, whadda ya mean 'small and light-boned'?" I asked.

"Just look at yourself, kid. Even if you weren't just starved to near-death in a local Árisian prison, you'd still have little to show; rest your mind, where all that sorcery nonsense is coming from." The bulky feline took a break from his food to flex one of his biceps, as if to mock me with his muscular presence.

"Ah, but magic is much more than that," I informed him, straying my vision to him in an intense but intellectual glare. "It's a culmination of not just the mind, but also the heart and the spirit."

From my claim, Bodey burst into a cackling fit of laughter. I stared at him in disbelief as he cocked his head back and plummeted against the tree in back of him. "W-wha...what's so funny?!" I remarked.

He tried to look up at me, only to bow back down to his own amusement. "Fro...from the heart? Are you s-serious?" Bodey doubled over, still laughing at such a high pitch that it didn't even sound like it should've been compatible with his low, baritone voice. Finally, he regained control and looked at me; his wide muzzle was covered in a witty grin. "You sure as hell got me there, Aiko. That has to be the corniest thing I've ever heard in my entire life."

"It's not corny!" I yelled, trying to convince him otherwise. "It's how it works!"

"Yeah, and I bet ya use the power of love and compassion to defeat your enemies, or something like that," Bodey said, still chuckling slightly underneath his breath.

I sighed and looked at the ground. "I don't think you'd ever know, big guy, seeing as you lack the capacity for either of those things."

Upon hearing my successful attempt to decry him, he leaned over to me and looked at me with a strange combination of a scowl and a grin; his deep blue eyes cascaded into my skull. "Listen, shrimp. I don't know how you conjure all your fantastic little incantations and spells and what-have-you. But as the warrior that you never have been and never will be, I can guarantee you that 'compassion' has no place on the battlefield, or anywhere for that matter. Ya hear?"

I didn't respond. I simply reached up and gently clasped the front of his muzzle with my paw. He grabbed my arm and pulled it away, but nonetheless got my notion for silence.

From right in front of him, I whispered, "We're being watched. There's someone here."

Another moment of observant silence came and passed. Then, a faint noise: something whispering through the air.

I used what little power I had in my size to bash into Bodey, knocking him backwards. The arrow just barly missed his head, instead hitting a small tree to his immediate left.

"Shit! We've gotta run!" he bellowed at me, as two more arrows came down from the trees above. I stood up and traced them back to two archers, masked up in the trees by forest-colored cloaks. Under the impression that neither I nor the big friendly tiger wanted any arrow piercings, I charged up a sphere of blue energy between my paws and sent it hurtling towards one of the figures in the trees above. Two more quick shots later, I managed to knock one of them off of his post, causing him to fall a considerable distance to the forest's ground floor. The other veered off.

"Alright, that's good enough for me!" I yelled, charging after Bodey and trying not to think about the possibility that more soldiers were present. With steps that were still painful from injury but nonetheless quick and nimble, I caught up to the sprinting feline. "How's that for 'compassion'?" I yelled at him.

POV X

1. Urria Pal, Capital of Uthalia.

Telepathic communication was a very intriguing idea, but very few mages were capable of such a facility. Fortunately, owning one of the 13 mythical pendants granted Queen Marvhalien with a unique circumstance.

The Jaguar Queen gazed out upon the great capital city before her from the balcony atop her castle. These days, little more than a frown was present on her face. With the current situation of the war, it was hard for her to think of anything else. If Bælan were to fall to northern allied forces, than only Uthalia would remain standing; it was a circumstance that would then inevitably lead to the fall of both her kingdom and later, likely the entirety of Theria would reside under Agu Morran and Wrothian rule. She tried to clear out her mind as she stood in the face of the wind.

Then, reality began to fade. The world around her became colorless, soon odorless, and eventually completely senseless. She looked up and saw a landscape of nothing but pure, temperate whiteness. The delicate and dainty Jaguar could feel nothing, simply because there was nothing there to feel. Except for her and one other presence, there was nothing but pure emptiness.

"Why have you called me here, Marvhalien?" asked Orrako. In a world with nowhere in it to be, he simply gliding through the nothingness over to Marvhalien, only to stop at what the shy snow leopard thought was the maximum distance of his comfort level.

Marvhalien spoke with a majestic, quiet confidence. "You know very well why."

"Certainly not to beg for mercy, as that would get you nowhere." The feline king of Agu Morra spoke with a intelligent-sounding tenor, which sliced through the air with clarity. His still-youthful face studied Marvhalien from underneath his hood with keen accuracy; perhaps he was trying to inspire a more direct approach to her vague entrance into his mind. "You already know what the real reason behind our invasion is. That much is certain; there is no reason to hide it."

Marvhalien gave him a light smile. If there was ever a trait of Orrako's that she valued, it was his straight-forward and logical mind; there were never any jokes, nor any tricks, nor any pointless escapades or complicated mazes of truths and lies. There were simply facts.

"Of course I know, Orrako. The purpose behind all this wasn't too evasive." Marvhalien floated up towards the king, trying to persuade more from him.

"Well, surely you're aware that I won't back down. The artifact measures quantities of immeasurable power. Polimatus and I shall succeed, and we'll become the new rulers of this world," Orrako explained. His dark, violet eyes focused upon a nonexistent, distant star. "You cannot convince me to reconsider my actions."

"Perhaps not," Marvhalien said. "But there are some things that I still believe you should know."

"Oh?" the king asked, suddenly somewhat intrigued. Breaking from his usual habits, he glided over to Marvhalien; his white, speckled fur looked almost as cold as real snow. Each of them wore robes of dark colors; hers a deep, charcoal-like black, and his a dark, navy blue. Upon his chest dangled a violet stone; it was his pendent, and the same color as his eyes. He pulled down his large hood to fully reveal his face, then finally asked, "And what might Queen Marvhalien of the desperate Uthalian peoples want me to know?"

Marvhalien looked into his eyes with an intense glare. "There's a lot more than this conflict than what meets the eye."

"Why of course there is; there are many different viewpoints to take on all wars. Your remark is pointless; unless of course, you are implying the existence of a conspiracy that I have somehow gone unaware of?"

"Maybe; but then again, perhaps not. I guess it depends on your...viewpoint, if you will."

For a second, the jaguar saw a brief grimace from Orrako, insulted by having his own words turned against him. "Is it so troubling for you to speak to me without your ill-defined nonsense, Marvhalien?" he asked. "Explain yourself to me."

"Consider this, Orrako. You and I, we're the younger ones in this equation. Polimatus, besides being leading what might be the most corrupt government in history, has been lingering in his middle ages for some time now; One the other hand, Llarene and Bauxtaurus are each nearing the end of their days. In contrast to them, the two of us are the youthful ones on the mainland. We still have all of our drive, our intuition; and our abilities laid out in front of us in full spectrum. For what it's worth, I know you quite well, Darien. But until you proclaim your loyalty to my words, I will only omit this: a threat looms that seeks not only to destroy you, but to bring down me as well. It would be in our best interest if we called off our differences and considered coinciding on this matter."

"Nonsense!" the leopard exclaimed, shaking his head. "What is that word supposed to mean to me? You speak of fables to lure me into sparing my breath on your kingdom. I will not play this game!"

"Think about it this way: You can trust me, and maybe in the end of all this, you can at least conquer Wrothia as your own. Alternatively, you can wait until you find yourself on your knees, begging for a mercy that you never even saw coming; and that's only assuming that Polimatus doesn't decide to play with foul betrayal and kill you first."

Orrako scowled at her, and with one final thought, the illusionary world disappeared from Marvhalien's sight, and she once again found herself on the balcony of her castle.

She sighed. Alright, old friend. The "game" has begun.

POV Aiko

1. Western Highlands, Bælan.

After many more hours of anguished walking and narrowly escaping close-call situations, we finally located a nice place to crash for the night. We had already eaten dinner, which had proved to be a fairly quiet mealtime when compared to the carelessness of our previous one. In the time we had left during the night, we sat by the side of a stream, where we had decided might be a good location to attend to each of our wounds. My ripped and tattered brown shirt laid on the ground beside me, and Bodey sat behind me as his large, rough hands swept over my bare back with a wet rag. The stream's cold water felt nice on all my cuts; an experience that at the time was only trounced by the surprisingly gentle kneading of his hands, which had moved on to massaging my shoulders.

"Thank you, that feels very nice," I said, complementing the tiger.

"You were very tense; I figured it would help you out," he responded. I gazed outward, towards the setting sun: a beautiful orange orb in the horizon. "You know, if you weren't a warrior, you'd make a damn fine massage therapist."

Bodey chortled quietly from behind me. "Kid, you've got some funny ideas about me."

"Here, turn around," I offered, persuading him to let me return the favor. He sighed, then turned around as I requested. He reached behind his head and pulled off first his tunic and then the white tank underneath. He threw them both to the side, allowing me to pick up the rag and repeat his process, first attending to his cuts and bruises, then massaging his broad, muscular shoulders. After a minute or two of my attempt at soothing his straigns, I caught a small, almost silent moan out of the feline, which he quickly covered up.

My face glistened with confusion and surprise. "...did you just?"

"No, I didn't! You're hearing something," he stated quickly. A moment of silence past, in which I simply grinned to myself, waiting for the continuity of his reply. Bodey tilted his head and made a funny face at me. "What? You'd make a damn fine massage therapist," Bodey said, mocking me with his impression of my voice. I chuckled loudly. "Thanks, I'll consider the possibility," I remarked.

"Sure thing. Chase your dreams, Aiko," spoke the sarcastic voice of the tiger.

As the sun began to reach the visible end of it's decent, the two of us finished cleaning each other up and prepared for the night ahead of us. This time, I offered to take the role of the night's first sentry, allowing Bodey to get some rest first. I perched myself against a tree and waited as the tiger found a nice bed of the earth to sleep on.

"Hey Bodey," I asked, trying to catch his word before he dozed off under the newly awakened sea of stars. "It'll be nice to be back with a civilization that isn't constantly trying to kill us, won't it? I mean, at least for me it will, when we finally get back." I didn't hear his voice amongst the sea of crickets, so I continued. "But I guess the world kinda needs us. So our adventure continues, eh?"

Bodey finally spoke up; his voice was cold and harsh, just like the chilling breeze that blew across the forest. "Exactly who is the 'us' that you keep referring to? One more day of this, and we'll be at the capital, and when we get there I can personally guarantee you that we will never cross paths again."

Minutes later, a distant snoring noise informed me that he had departed the world of the conscious, leaving me alone in the dark and frightening woods.

Well...I guess I shouldn't have expected anything more from him. Go ahead, see if it bothers me...

On a saddened note, I leaned back and waited through the night.

POV Bodey

Zzz...

Bodey... A distant voice calls my name. Who is the distant voice? I'm not sure...I can't quite tell.

Bodey! The distant voice is louder this time. I feel...strange. I'm floating. I'm floating on my back. Why am I floating? What am I floating on? The details are still too hazy...

Bodey! Listen to me! The not-so-distant voice is yelling now. It's trying to tell me something; something important, too. But what? Do I care? I'm not sure...the water is nice.

Floating! Floating on water! I'm on the water, of...a lake! What lake? Where is the lake? I don't know...everything is foggy, I can't see very well. There is a turtle swimming next to me. Hello, mister turtle.

BODEY! You must listen; it is imperative! My my, isn't the voice annoying? It won't stop shouting. What is it saying? I can't figure it out. Hey, a lily pad. It's dry and soft on the top, but on the submerged side it's slick with goo.

Look down! Into the water, Bodey! The voice is desperate for my attention. Should I listen? I'm not sure...he's asking me to do strange things. I still can't see very well.

Look down, Bodey! Swim to the bottom! Save...the...the...

The voice vanishes. He's gone now.

I flop onto my belly, facing down into the lake. It's a deep lake. Very deep. I can't see the bottom.

Sw...swim, Bo...Bodey... The weak echo of the voice still sounds throughout my mind. Grasping onto the cold, icy water with cupped paws, I propel myself downward. The turtle watches.

It's very dark down here, under the water. But if I look closely...yes. There is something underneath the water. It's moving further away though...it's sinking! What is it?

As I go further down, my vision is completely obstructed. I can't see anything...except for a faint glowing...it's the object that's sinking. It's glowing, too...the color is faint...but it's a faint, icy-blue color.

I'm attacked by a sudden impulse. My instincts suddenly flare up. Whatever it is that's sinking...I must save it!

I swim deeper. The water continues to grow colder. I'm running out of breath. I don't know how much I'll last down here.

I cannot leave! Not without the sinking object! But what is it, even? I suddenly receive the impression that the physical item I see isn't the same thing that I desire so desperately to save. But...how is that possibly? Oh, what am I searching for?

I'm closing on it, but my lungs are burning; they need air! I cannot stop...I must find it! I have to...

I'm done for...I can't keep going...

I reach my paw out in one last desperate measure to grasp the object. With what little feeling that the frigid water hasn't already taken away from me, I can feel the tips of my fingers scrape the surface.

Keep going! Just a little bit more...just...a little...further...

My paw grabs the object. I can feel it in my hands...it's cold...but somewhere deep within it's being, I can still feel it's warmth.

Warmth from what? I don't know...I try to swim back to the surface with the delicate light in the safety of my paws, but I can't get back up...I can't get...back...up...

I can't...escape...