In every land, every mythos, every universe, there are legends.
They are the people who break the mold, whose very existences break all
the odds and write all the history books. Legends exist as a watermark of
culture. They tell us what we know about ourselves as a collective
consciousness; when our heroes are gun-toting musclemen with bad German
accents and steroid rage, this tells us something about our society. Who
we are. What we want. 
        Lina Inverse was a legend. 
        In many ways, she was THE legend. In the history of the world,
there had been perhaps only a handful of sorcerers like her. Rei Magnus,
creator of the legendary Dragu Slave magic. Shazard Lugandi the Artificer,
whose powerful mystical items were the source of quest after quest for
longer than anyone can remember. They were people of power. Not just 'Rule
the nation, get the girl, spend the money' power, but 'Toy with the fabric
of reality before bedtime' power. 
        Lina Inverse was a legend before her own death. The Bandit Killer,
Dragon Spooker, Enemy of All Who Live. But despite her epithets, Lina
Inverse was a legend of the people. She represented power. The power of
retribution; to strike down your enemies with impunity, to eat as much as
you want and not get fat, the freedom to be whoever you wanted to be.
Despite the fear of the populace, there were very few people who did not
dream, in the deepest parts of their hearts, of being Lina Inverse. 
        She was a legend of the people. 

        Let's flash forward a little bit. 
        The thing about legends is that they only live forever in the
figurative sense. A living legend soon becomes tiresome because we
eventually have no use for it. Our tastes change. Society stops reflecting
what we want out of it, and since the legend can't change his fundamental
nature, he gets lost in the shuffle. 
        What this boils down to is that one day, Lina Inverse died. No one
knows where or why. It's better that way, actually. She and Gourry Gabriev
dropped off the face of the world, never to be seen again. The popular
rumor is that they left on yet another adventure together, and never
returned, having finally found a source of infinite wealth. Others yet
still say that she's out there, in the vastness of the world, putting
restaurants out of business and indiscriminately rearranging the landscape
for fun and profit. 
        It had been 30 years since the 'death' of Lina Inverse at age 21.
Amelia Wil Tesla Saillune, Crown Queen of Saillune, was now an old woman.
Other, more obscure figures had faded into history in their own quiet
corners of the world. Sylpheel Nels Rada was remembered as the savior of
Sairaag City, after her death at age 58.
        Society had forgotten about their legends. As technology and
culture trickled in from outside the former Mazoku Barrier, things
changed. Gunpowder became a reality. The Empire of Elmekia, broken and
battered from a long war with Mazoku themselves, was trying to build
itself up again. 
        On the fringes of the nation, legends waited to be made again. 


                        Slayers - Generations
      a fanfic by Todd Harper (lina@sandwich.net/lina@inverse.org) 

                               (1) 
                  Discovery! Gani's Ruin Adventure


        So let's say there's a town. You can probably see it in your mind;
thatched roofs, marketplace, considerable medieval ambient noise. People
laughing, buying things, sharing an existence. Pretty easy to get a grasp
on it. 
        This little town is called Mulberry. The people who live here are
decent enough folk. Zefilia, despite its reputation, is not a factory
churning out heroes left and right. Most of its citizens are hard-working
and somewhat rustic people. 
        Gani Sanbrook was no exception. When he was a child, friends of
his parents called him "darling", "sweet", "spunky". Through early
childhood and adolescence he displayed the kind of dashing, non-threatening
charm that led people to believe he had a future in politics. But he was
rough-and-tumble too. Maybe a fine warrior, they said. He's a bit short
but he'll do alright, they said. Gani's mother often commented that she
had high hopes for her son. 
        Since the day he decided to be a sorcerer, it had been a downhill
slide ever since.
	Contrary to popular belief, Zefilia was not a country where every
mage and his brother casually wandered the streets, rearranging the
landscape for fun and profit. It was true that Zefilia's Guild had produced
Lina Inverse, but to the magic using peoples of the world this was, at best,
a dubious honor. In the modern age, 'sorcerer' was becoming more and more a
storybook term than an actual post-graduate job track. 
        A legend, if you will. 
        The universal opinion of Gani Sanbrook changed as time went on.
His muscular physique, developed in his parents' vineyards, atrophied
ever so slightly. His ruddy skin paled slightly. His job prospects as a
politician or mercenary popped like a soap bubble. Once a sorcerer, you're
a sorcerer for life. 
        Gani considered the ability to toss high-energy magic around a
reasonable trade off for this. 
        In the middle of Mulberry was a restaurant called the Sleeping
Unicorn. It was in this particular restaurant one morning, over a large
breakfast, that Gani sat, poring over a map which he had stretched across
his table, using strategically placed condiment holders to keep it from
fluttering out the window. Gani was, despite letting his body go a bit,
still an athletic-looking and handsome young man. His blond hair was cut
short to stay off his neck, and his clothing definitely pegged him as a
magician to anybody who knew of such things. His features had the same
brightness and vivacity that had earned him the adjective "spunky" as a
child, as he smiled down at the map and repeatedly poked a small red "x".
"That's it. That's the one." 
        "So you really think you've found something this time?" A voice
asked from across the table. It belonged to another young man, average in
height and dressed in the flowing vestments of a priest. He was currently
devouring a donut at top speed and leaning back in his chair. He continued
as he ate, crumbs dotting his chin as he spoke. "And not just another wild
goose chase like the last one?" 
        Gani made a face, eyeing his companion warily. "Mikhail, buddy.
Pal. Friend. Have I ever steered you wrong?" He looked down at the map,
then up at Mikhail with a sly grin. "Don't answer that. In any case...yes.
I really do think I've found something good this time." He clapped his
hands together and looked skyward, eyes sparkling. "Then I can finally be
financially independent and get the heck out of this burg!" 
        Mikhail raised a single eyebrow at that, letting his chair return
to the floor with a *thump*. "Gani...I know I've harped on this before,
but if you really want to travel, why don't you just ask your parents for
money?" He saw Gani's expression turn sour, and frowned, pressing the
attack. "You're 17 now, there's no reason for you to stay here." 
        Gani shook his head vigorously, sitting down and picking up a
fork. He sighed, looking momentarily distraught. "Because that's not how
sorcerers do things, Mik. If I'm going to really be a sorcerer, then I
have to see things through on my own! No self-respecting Zefilian
adventuring mage would just...take money from his parents!" Standing up
again, Gani made stabbing motions with the fork in mid-air like a
practiced swashbuckler. "He'd find a bandit gang and thrash 'em! He'd dig
up an ancient treasure!" When he realized Mikhail was still regarding him
speculatively, he sat down and sighed. "He wouldn't play
rich-son-of-a-wine-magnate and just ask for the money." 
        Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Mikhail sighed. "Gani, we've been
over this before. That may have been FINE in the old days, but it's just
not going to work anymore!" He looked at his companion and flinched at the
expression on his a face, a combination of sadness and determination. "I'm
not trying to crush your dreams, Gani. But what you're talking about
doesn't happen nowadays. And you're not going to be the person to whom it
DOES happen 'just because it can't'." Relenting, Mikhail sat back in his
chair. "I'm only saying this because I care about what happens to you." 
        Gani grumbled. "Yeah, I know." He sat sideways in his chair,
letting his fingers drift across the map. "I mean it, Mik. This is gonna
be a big score. And I don't wanna go alone...please, come help me out?" He
turned to Mikhail and smiled his best charming smile. "We've known each
other..." 
        "...since we were kids, right right." Shaking his head, Mikhail
turned to the side and folded his arms across his chest, grumping. "I
know. You knew from the start I'd go, so there's no need for theatrics.
Where are the ruins?" 
        Gani smiled brightly, rolling up the map. "Elmekia." 
        There was a loud *THWACK* as Mikhail, his chair, and his
impression of his friend's common sense all hit the floor at the same
time. Rising like the wrath of Ceipheed, he slammed both hands on the
table as he got up, glaring at Gani. "Are you NUTS? That's like wandering
into the gates of hell itself! We'll be KILLED!" 
        Gani scoffed, waving a hand dismissively. "Oh, come off it. It's
not that bad! You're a priest, aren't you? And I've got my magic. We can
take care of ourselves. This is our big chance, Mik!" 
        "To do what? Die a horrible, slow, painful death? Gani, it's not
ogres or trolls or beastmen out there like we've seen before! It's Mazoku!
The real deal! You think your magic can take on an actual, 100% Mazoku?" 
        "Bah," Gani said, frowning. "I can handle it. I've studied all
about them." 
        "That's not the same as experience," came a voice from across the
room, a low and sonorous tone that was a blend of amused and
condescending. Gani and Mikhail blinked at each other, then let their
gazes swivel across the restaurant looking for the speaker. Unsurprisingly
for mid-morning, the Unicorn didn't have many patrons, so the speaker was
easy to spot: a tall, lean woman with dark raven hair, wearing a long
magenta overcoat and a floppy hat of the same color. Her expression had a
very severe tone, despite the hint of amusement in her voice. "You can't
expect to wander into their territory and make it back alive. That's just
reality." 
        Gani blinked, then frowned. "Now wait a minute. It's not like
there's a Mazoku Fighting training hall where you can just wander in and
do a quick workout." He glanced back at Mikhail, then at the newcomer to
the conversation. "If they're as dangerous as you say, then how do get
experience fighting them at all?" 
        The woman smiled a bit, a smile edged with frost but a smile
nonetheless. "You're smarter than you look," she said dryly, raising her
mug at him and then sipping her tea quietly. "My name is Jaana. I'm a
guard for hire for ruin explorers like yourselves." 
        "I am NOT a ruin explorer," Mikhail interjected with vehemence.
"Just because I end up getting dragged after him whenever he gets a damn
fool idea to wander through some crumbling stone structure doesn't make me
a ruin explorer. It just makes me an idiot." 
        Gani frowned a Mikhail, then turned to Jaana with a slightly
wolfish grin. "I'm guessing you would bring a dash of experience to our
trip? I mean, why else would you bring it up? Mercs aren't known for their
sudden bouts of altruism." 
        Jaana nodded, her smile warming a bit as she inclined her teacup
at Gani. "Right again, in a way. No, I don't have experience fighting
Mazoku, per se. But I've been in the business a while and I know a few
tricks. What do you say? Feel like hiring me?" 
        Mikhail frowned. "Gani, I'm sketchy about this as it is. Let's not
go dragging anyone else to their death, huh?" He eyed Jaana briefly, but
the guard merely gave him an enigmatic raised eyebrow. 
        "Don't be stupid, Mik. She knows what she's getting into if she
goes with us. Right?" Jaana nodded her assent to Gani's statement, and the
sorcerer smiled. "Then I guess we're a trio. We'll meet here tomorrow
morning to plan this out better." 
        Jaana grinned, toasting Gani with her teacup. "Here's to the
adventure, then." 
        Gani nodded. "Adventure!" 
        Mikhail sighed, twirling his finger in the air distractedly as
Gani and Jaana toasted each other. "Impending certain doom, yay." 

                                <----->

        By the time details of the trip had been sketched out for the lady
mercenary by Gani, the dark violet of sunset had begun to wash over the
town, bathing everything in a sleepy purple haze. Both the young sorcerer
and his new companion sat at a single table, looking at the map Gani had
provided as waitresses cleared the last of the dinner rush's remains from
the wooden tables. Town servants wandered the town, using the Lighting
spell on the streetlamps before nightfall set in. 
        Mikhail had long since begged out of the situation, protesting
that he wanted to spend the last few hours of his earthly existence in
prayer and meditation. Gani, used to Mik's theatrical whining about
danger, had simply nodded and told him to be ready by morning. Jaana
seemed unduly amused by Mikhail's behavior, and turned to Gani with a
faintly sardonic grin as the young priest made his exit. 
        "Asking why he goes along with you despite all his ranting is a
bit pointless," she observed wryly, sipping from a new cup of tea. Gani
rewarded her with a sheepish grin, and the guard let her smile slip a
little. "Using charm like that isn't always a good thing. There's always
the chance that you're going to push him too far. Are you sure you can
take care of him?" 
        Gani blinked, looking embarrassed, and waved his hand dismissively.
"It's no problem, really. Mik just likes to whine. He can hold his own."
The sorcerer looked down at the map on the table, letting a finger trace a
seemingly random path across the borderlands of Zefilia and Elmekia. "He
and I have been best friends since we were little. I can recite by heart
every ruin, every bandit cave we've ever been to." He looked up, giving
Jaana the most winning smile he could manage. "But you know what I'm
talking about, don't you? You said you've been on the road for a long
time. It must be exciting, all the people you get to meet." 
        Scoffing, Jaana shook her head and held her teacup in both hands,
watching the blood-red sun sink below the horizon and drape the velvet
shadows of night over Mulberry. She seemed to regard to small groups of
townspeople who were chatting in doorways and storefronts with a mixture
of jealousy and disgust before turning back to Gani. "It's not as much fun
as it sounds. I've never really liked travelling with people, especially
not in groups bigger than 2 or 3. You start to get complacent and rely on
them." She set the cup down on the table and stretched a bit. "And there's
a difference between having someone you can count on, and relying on them
completely." Gani blinked a few times at her, seemingly uncomprehending,
and the guard laughed lightly, shaking her head. "Did I just shatter your
image of me, Sanbrook?" 
        Gani's lips set in a thoughtful line. "That's not necessarily the
case. I knew you were a professional from the start," he said, and was
rewarded with a brief smile from Jaana. "I just didn't think about you as
the loner type until you started talking. But it makes sense. Travel
alone, you don't give or use your family name, you evaluate your employers
critically beforehand..." 
        Jaana raised an eyebrow. "You're smarter than you look, Gani, I'll
give you that." She poked a finger into the table, if only to give her
hand something to do. "I don't use my family name for personal reasons,
not because I want to distance myself from them. But you're right. I
prefer to work alone." 
        Gani inclined his head a bit. "So what made you decide to work
with us? You said yourself that Mikhail didn't leave a wonderful first
impression, and I've done nothing to prove myself a sorcerer. Doesn't that
make us a lost cause?" 
        Jaana turned to the side again, crossing her arms over her chest.
"It's not about what you can do. I think you've got potential to succeed,
and that's the important part. You're remarkably sane for an idealist and
a magic-user to boot." She half-smiled in amusement as Gani's face lit up
with a hint of pride at the compliment. "And despite his pessimism, your
friend takes a very real view of things. And since it doesn't seem like
this town takes you seriously, I thought I'd offer to nurture that, if
even for a little while." 
        "You're very honest about how you feel, Miss Jaana," Gani offered,
impressed. 
        Jaana smirked. "It's best just to call me Jaana." She looked down
at the map spread across their table, and drummed her fingers across the
wood surface in thought. "That's strange. Your map says that these ruins
are where the well-storied town of Ashvale should be, but I was just in
Elmekia two months ago and I didn't hear of anything. Are you sure your
information is reliable?" 
        Gani nodded. "I have it on very good authority from a family
friend who used to be in the Gungnir Knights." 
        Jaana raised both eyebrows sharply, the biggest display of emotion
yet from her that day. "A former Gungnir Knight? Is that even possible?" 
She frowned, thinking. "They were the Elmekia Empire's special forces,
trained to kill the Mazoku that sprang up after the trouble in Seltennia
22 years ago. I thought they had all died defending the capital, and that
there weren't any more." 
        The sorcerer twiddled his thumbs absently, looking crestfallen. 
"There aren't. He came to Mulberry badly wounded and in need of some
serious help. Mikhail did what he could, but it was too risky to send him
to someplace like Zefilia City, so we let him stay in our home." Gani
sighed, putting his chin in his hands. "He taught me all the magic I know,
and gave me his books so I could learn more after he'd passed on." The
mage pursed his lips. "Two weeks ago, he passed on after telling me a
story about these hidden ruins near Ashvale. I promised him I'd go and see
what was in them." He realized that Jaana was still regarding him with her
cool stare, and blushed faintly. "Sorry. I didn't mean to get all
emotional on you. Regardless, I trust him with my life." 
        Jaana nodded slowly. "Understandable. Even if I had an objection,
talking you out of it would be futile, and you've already given me my
advance. I'm a woman of my word." Standing up, she pointed languidly at
the map and moved her finger in a circle. "That part of Elmekia is near
the Desert of Destruction. The weather tends to be dry and most of it is
scrubland, with the occasional patch of forest. You'll want to bring
supplies that are appropriate for that kind of terrain." 
        Gani nodded silently, eyeing the map a bit. 
        "Multiple canteens, that sort of thing. Are we taking horses?" 
        Gani shook his head. "No, we can't afford horses. We'll have to
walk, though there's the option of flying over bad terrain." 
        Smirking, Jaana nodded. "I suppose we'll have to make do, then. Do
you mind if I take this map home to study it?" Gani shook his head, and
she rolled up the map, tucking it under one arm. "Alright, then. I'm
staying at Mierson's Inn, room 204. I'll assume you know where it is, and
so for now I'll say good night." She extended a hand to the sorcerer, who
got up and shook it. "Take care, Gani Sanbrook. See you tomorrow." 
        "Tomorrow, right. Bright and early," Gani responded, almost
airily. So much to think about, so much to plan, but all he could do as
she walked away was watch the magenta form of Jaana wander out into the
streets, shaded pale silver in the light of the moon. 

                                <----->

        Gani wandered the night paths of Mulberry with the spring in his
step much lessened. Even though he'd fought hard to move past it, talking
about the death of Grandpa Neil (as Gani had called him, much to the old
knight's delight) still choked him up inside. When the old man had died,
one of the only people left who Gani felt truly understood him was gone
forever. 
        Sure, Mikhail (despite his gloom) was Gani's best friend, and the
two had a deep rapport. On the other hand, no one in Mulberry really
understood what it was like to control the magic that Neil had taught him. 
They may know a few tricks like Lighting or Sleeping, and people like
Mikahil had learned the White arts of healing, but to really let your
consciousness flow into the Astral Plane, to grab reality by the back of
the neck and tell it exactly what it is you expected it to do...the thrill
was indescribable. Neil had understood that, and he had used his magic to
protect Elmekia, to help others. 
        Gani's left eyebrow twitched as he thought about Mik's words. "Can
your magic defeat a Mazoku?" 
        In all honesty, he didn't know. He'd only ever used it on ogres
and trolls and bandits, targets which, for all their toughness and
bravado, were still *mortal*. Mazoku were another story entirely. Beings
of pure malevolence who thrived on human suffering, they had wiped out
Elmekia Kingdom in one massive swarm. Even an experienced warrior like
Neil had fared poorly against them. Even now the nation was only slowly
recovering from the demons' unexpected departure two years past.
        The sorcerer's fingers clenched for a moment into a fist. "I won't
lose," Gani whispered quietly. "As long as I believe that, it will
happen." Although the paean rang hollow with the doubt in his mind, it
comforted Gani to think of the situation in those terms, of simple belief
overcoming what logic said must be true. It was an exercise that had
served him well learning the arts of magic, and there was no reason to
assume it wouldn't work in other ways as well. 
        When he finally looked up from the road, Gani was surprised to
find himself very near to the small cottage that Mikhail called home. It
occurred to him that he had possibly offended his best friend, and that
stopping by to smooth things over would not be a bad idea. 
        Mik's cottage was a simple but sturdy affair; it was a gift from
the town's wealthy mayor, whose frail son had been cured of a snakebite
poison by a timely Dicleary spell by the young 'priest'. Gani reminded
himself that though he dressed in clerical raiment, there was no real
suggestion that Mikhail was a real priest trained in a real shrine, except
for his knowledge of White magic. He made his living as a healer, but that
was as close to spiritual connection with his fellow man as Mik got. 
        The young mage saw that even at this late hour, Mik's door was
unlatched and a lamp lit in his window: Gani knew from experience that it
meant he would still see patients in the middle of the night, if need be. 
He often wondered how someone as practical and pessimistic as Mik became a
healer in the first place. 
        There was a creak as Gani's blonde hair and angular face poked
around the door. He found Mik, wearing a pair of reading glasses that made
him seem ages older in the shadows of the single lamp, poring over a book
at his table. It faced the building's only window, and the long path
toward the town square visible through it made Gani wonder how long he'd
been walking, lost in thought. "Hi," he ventured, taking a step inside. 
        Closing the book and raising the glasses to sit on his head, Mik
turned and smiled faintly. "Hello. Bit late for a leisurely stroll to the
outskirts, isn't it?" 
        "I wish I knew," Gani answered truthfully, walking over to one of
Mik's chairs and sitting down in it backwards. "Look, Mik...about this
afternoon..." 
        "You don't have to apologize to me," Mikhail said stiffly, sitting
up straight and letting the heavy cover of his book slam shut, a sound
that echoed in the silence following his comment. 
        There was a long pause in which Gani's breath was held very
tightly, until Mik turned to him and relaxed his shoulders, the warm
orange light etching worry lines into his otherwise youthful features. 
"You don't have to apologize, because you're right. I shouldn't be pushing
you to rely on your parents because it would only make you unhappy." 
        Frowning, the youth laced his fingers together and looked at the
table. "You may not believe it, but that's all I really want for you,
Gani. It's just...I'd rather see you somewhat unhappy and alive than
thrilled for a single moment and then killed." Mikhail dug his nails into
his palms, gritting his teeth for a moment, as if fighting off something
terrible he was seeing in his mind. 
        Gani was too preoccupied to notice. He tilted his head slightly,
glancing at his friend, then put a tentative arm on his shoulder. "I know. 
Part of me knows." 
        He gave Mikhail's shoulder a squeeze. "But part of me wants to be
invincible, Mik. Part of me wants to laugh off danger, smite my foes with
impunity, wander into the unknown and unseen." His fingers loosened, then
fell back into his own lap. "I may die. But if I'm going to bank on any
possible future, it's going to be that I LIVE. For every possibility that
I die, there's one where I survive. That's why I need to go. Because I'll
never know if I don't." 
        A long space of dead air passed between the two friends, before
Mikhail let out a long breath and looked at the ceiling. "Why can't you
ever just listen to reason, for once?" There was something serious in his
tone, but the warm (if tired) smile the priest gave his friend assured him
that there was at least some humor in the comment. 
        "It's going to be a long day tomorrow," Gani said brightly,
getting up and dusting off his lap with a wild smile. "And from what I can
read of Jaana, she won't brook with whining. So get some rest." 
        Mikhail nodded, and stood up, hands clasped before him. He watched
in silent contemplation as Gani's bright, sun-yellow hair, the only thing
of his visible in the night's shadows, slowly faded into the distance. He
leaned against the doorframe for a moment, then came inside and locked the
door with a slight click, hoping to lose his doubts in the darkness of
sleep. 

        It was extremely late when Gani finally pushed his way through the
front door of his home. Normally, one of the servants would have been
there waiting for his knock, but they had all long since gone to bed, or
gone home for those lucky enough to live in town...or as lucky as one
could feel, living in a hamlet like Mulberry. 
        As expected, the kitchen light of the Sanbrooks' expansive home
was burning, just as Mikhail's had. Gritting his teeth, Gani prepared
himself for the worst. Whenever he decided to traipse off into the
wilderness, his mother Lydia sat up, baking, waiting for her son to come
home safe...often times, with a great amount of melodrama stored for a
long and vicious fight. 
        Gani could never decide what was worse: the fighting, or the
horrifyingly awful concoctions his mother created in the kitchen. Being
born to wealth, she'd never learned to boil water, let alone cook. It was
as if she poured all her anger into whatever she was making, with the end
result invariably looking like the charred remains of a campfire. She was
potentially the only person in the civilized world capable of committing
arson on a gingerbread house. 
        The polished wood of the Sanbrook manor was a harsh dichotomy of
midnight black and flame orange, as the dim kitchen lamps spread their
radiance thinly from the doorways out into the well-furnished parlor,
leaving most of the room in darkness. 
        When he let his head poke around the half-open kitchen door, he
was met with the hawk-eyed gaze of his mother, Lydia. Of the two Sanbrook
parents, people said that while Gani's athleticism and geniality came from
his good-natured but somewhat dim father, his sharp mind was a direct
hand-me-down from his mother. Lydia Sanbrook was known for her shrewdness,
her perceptiveness...and among the suitors of her youth, for being a human
iceberg. 
        "I won't ask where you've been all night," his mother said in a
prim, tight voice as she stared directly down at the table in front of
her. A dark red apron hung about her gaunt, brocade-covered shoulders, the
two pieces of clothing a stark contrast. "I have a feeling I know. You're
planning on leaving again." 
        Swallowing his apprehension at having yet another argument with
his mother, Gani took a single step forward, standing in the light, and
nodded his head once. 
        "I have to. I promised Neil..." 
        "Neil was a fool!" Lydia snapped loudly and sharply, her eyes full
of fire as she slammed her hands down upon the table, too upset to look at
her son. "He was a vaunted Gungnir Knight...and he died. Here, in a wine
maker's home in Zefilia." 
        There was a long, weighty pause as Lydia caught her breath,
calming, letting the color return to her knuckles, pale white from being
clenched so tightly into fists. She half-turned her head to face her son,
her voice low and quiet. "You don't owe him anything, Gani. He was a relic
of a dead country and a dead era." 
        Shaking his head, the sorcerer held out a hand toward his mother,
and frowned when he found that hand rejected. It fell to his side with a
light slapping sound. The bright blue eyes were dimmed as Gani's eyelids
dropped, his voice rich with pain. 
        "He may have been a fool, but he LIVED, Mama! He traveled. He
saw..." Gani waved his hand in the air, trying to think of an appropriate
term, and failing. "...things! He was a part of the world, Mother." 
        "And what about my world? What would happen if you ended up like
Neil did? Old and doddering and waiting to die in some foreign country,
where people took you in out of pity and shame?" Lydia said quietly,
turning and looking at Gani, who stared back at her with his righteous
indignation clouded by shame. 
        "What about your parents, Gani Sanbrook? What about Mikhail?" his
mother finished, tilting her head. Waiting for an answer. 
        Finally, he knew why his mother had been especially skittish of
late. Neil's death was sudden, but not unexpected. And all too recent,
fresh in the mind of everyone in the household. He knew that his mother
was seeing *his* face, cold and ashen gray, in a small bed in an attic
somewhere, waiting, wondering what it will be like to die... 
        "What about my dreams, Mama?" Lydia's son replied softly. "What
about my future? You can't protect me forever. That's why I learned what I
did...that's why I do what I do. So I can protect myself." 
        "Did I not love you enough?" Lydia Sanbrook asked, hushed and
confused. "How did I drive you away, Gani? I need to know. How did I drive
you into the dark?" 
        There was a long, drawn out pause. Mother and son stared at each
other, unblinking. Lydia's eyes were full of sadness, worry,
confusion...and maybe a little bit of hatred. Gani knew that she would
forever blame the spirit of Neil Granfeld for taking her son away from
her. 
        Gani's eyes were full of hope, sadness, and even a touch of
bitterness. He loved his mother, he loved his family. Why couldn't they
understand his dream? Why couldn't he make them understand? 
        "Answer me!" his mother hissed, her hand gripping his arm as she
shot it out like a crossbow bolt, the piercing spikes of her carefully
manicured nails the perfect arrowheads. 
        Ripping his arm away from his mother, the young sorcerer resolved
that she could never truly understand. "Tomorrow morning, Mikhail and I
are leaving for Ashvale in Elmekia." He said no more. No more could, or
needed, to be said. 
        As he stalked away to his bedroom, the only sound Gani could hear
was the quiet sniffling of a woman who had, long ago, forgotten how to
cry. 

        The next morning, Gani and his traveling companions met outside
Jaana's inn, Mierson's. The usually temperate weather of Zefilia was
absent that morning; the sun was a pale yellow ball in a sky laced with
long cotton strands of cloud that seemed to circle Mulberry, as if
pointing the hamlet out to the heavens, for some unknown reason. 
        Jaana shielded her eyes from the glare as she watched Gani and
Mikhail approach, and noted to herself with some degree of satisfaction
that she hadn't made a complete mistake. Despite their somewhat
conflicting personalities and Mikhail's attitude toward putting himself in
danger, the mercenary noticed that they were both carrying a decent amount
of provisions and looked like they were used to travelling in the
wilderness. She had prepared for the worst with the boys and was gratified
to find out her expectations were exceeded. 
        "Good morning, Jaana!" Gani tossed off loudly as the pair
approached, waving one hand in the air. Yesterday he had been wearing
sturdy but obviously casual clothes, with little ornamentation. This
morning was an obvious difference: his clothes looked a little looser, a
little more plain, a little dirtier. A pair of well-worn black epaulets
kept a cape fastened about him, an affectation commonly assumed by the
wandering wizards of yesteryear. 
        Mikhail had, expectedly, chosen something subdued but appropriate: 
an off-white cassock and robe with a shirt of thin grey cotton underneath,
intended to deflect the sun from the priest's pale skin. 
	Jaana appeared no different than she had the previous day. It
occurred to Gani that a mercenary such as herself was probably used to
travelling light, without many changes of clothes. He suddenly felt gaudy
and overdressed, and a little shamefaced at having brought extra outfits
in a backpack which suddenly felt heavier. 
	"Good morning, boys," the trenchcoated mercenary said pleasantly,
nodding once to Mikhail and Gani respectively. She looked up at the
cheerless sky and shook her head with a sigh. "This isn't really the
greatest travelling weather for an area like the Elmekia ruins, but I
suppose it'll have to do." 
	Both young men nodded, each one oddly silent. It was finally Gani
who broke the tension by running a few steps ahead and looking back.
"We're never going to get there if we don't take the first step, right?" 
	Jaana smiled at that, nodding. Mikhail simply gave his friend a
cool, acknowledging glance. 
	With that, the trio set off into the horizon. 

	It had been over 3 hours on the road with nearly no conversation
before Gani's ability to keep silent snapped. "You said Ashvale had a
history, didn't you?" he asked Jaana guardedly, watching Mik out of the
corner of his eye. He had fully expected the healer to be in horrible
spirits the entire time. However, much to his surprise (and not completely
to his satisfaction) Mikhail seemed preoccupied and distant, occasionally
staring back at Mulberry for long periods of time. 
	As amused as he would normally be about his best friend's foibles
about travelling, something was grating on Gani's nerves that morning, a
feeling he couldn't place and one he was fully prepared to bury under a
facade of pleasant conversation.
	Surprisingly, it was Mikhail himself who spoke up. "Once upon a
time, Ashvale was the site of a major battle in the Demon's Resurrection
War," he said quietly, almost as if it were a dreamy afterthought. "Almost
the entire population of the town was killed, but the buildings remained
intact. It was decades before anyone would live there again."
	Jaana nodded, eyeing Mikhail for a moment before stretching as she
responded. "Exactly. The people who settled there made it a point to
suppress stories about that battle. It was difficult to get people to
settle in a city many considered cursed."
	Mikhail returned Jaana and Gani's looks with placid innocence;
whether this meant he was unaware of their surprise or simply uncaring was
unclear. "Since the Mazoku abandoned Elmekia five years ago, the new
monarchy has supported that. They feel suppressing the story is good for
bringing people back into the kingdom."
	Gani nodded slowly. "And you said you'd never heard of these
ruins, right, Jaana?"
	The mercenary stretched as she walked, nodding again. As she
spoke, she kept her eyes on the horizon, a mass of waving green grass and
thin blue sky that seemed to stretch on forever. "No, I haven't. And it
worries me a little, truth be told. Considering all the efforts that have
been made to suppress the truth about Ashvale's history, a mysterious
ruin's location delivered by a dying Gungnir Knight to - and no offense
here, but a young kid - isn't adding up."
	Blushing a little, Gani was forced to slowly nod his head in
agreement with a sigh. "No offense taken. If I were..."
	Suddenly, he cut off, looking around. A feeling he had felt only a
few times before, and which had always resulting in nothing...but he
couldn't dismiss the prickling at the back of his neck, the sense of
near-nauseous unease that run through him like a wave.
	"Gani?" Mik asked, turning back and regarding the sorcerer
curiously. Jaana, at the head of the party, also turned around,
confused...but also wary. "What's wrong?"
	Frowning, his brow furrowed, Gani turned this way and that
rapidly, looking for *something*, some sign that he wasn't imagining
things. All he saw, however, was endless waves of grass extending in every
direction.
	"Nowhere to hide...what's wrong with me?" he muttered, confused,
as he faced forward again and tried to place a wan smile on his face. "I
guess I'm just paranoid. Maybe it's excitement."
	Mikhail nodded reassuringly, trying to smile. "You're probably
right."
	Jaana, on the other hand, frowned. "I guess." She pursed her lips
as she turned back to the road, Mikhail and Gani doing the same. "I've
always felt, as a traveler in times like these, to trust your gut
instinct if it says something's wrong..."
	It was only an instant, but an instant was all it took. A sliver
of cold ran through Gani's entire body, and he knew that his feeling had
been right. "Magic!" he suddenly said, eyes wide.
	The guardswoman was a blur as she moved, instantly shouting "Get
back!" and hurling herself at Mikhail. Jaana impacted with the stunned
priest in a body tackle that sent them both rolling backwards in the dirt
of the road, landing at Gani's feet.
	Gani looked on in horror as the ground less than a foot from where
Jaana had been standing erupted into a group of dark circles of crackling
black light, the inside of each circle a shining prismatic magical
diagram. With a rush of wind, the blackness erupted upwards in columns,
streaking into the sky. When the light had passed, a group of five
horrible-looking demons had appeared...tall, muscular, and covered with a
dark, russet-brown fur, their faces were elongated and wolf-like, all
fangs and horns.
	Mikhail and Jaana emerged from their tangled position on the
ground; Mik clutched his arm, but Jaana immediately kippuped into a
fighting stance, her fists held in front of her. "Lesser demons!" she
spat, seemingly angry and confused at the same time.
	As if on cue, the group of monsters began suddenly moving forward,
a lurching, ominous shamble that matched the horrific sounds coming out of
their glistening maws. Gani was transfixed with horror as they approached,
as was Mikhail, who could only look on in wide-eyed disbelief as they
approached.
	Jaana, however, was a different matter. In a movement so fast she
appeared a blur, she simply seemed to *appear* before the vastly taller
lead demon, her white-gloved right fist moving in a wide arc that nearly
whistled as it impacted with the monster's midsection, staggering it. This
was immediately followed by a vicious blow from her left, and finally a
backflip kick that hit the demon square in the jaw with a sickening
*CRACK*, her dark magenta overcoat flapping about her like the wings of a
bat as she sailed through the air, landing in a crouch. The demon fell
backwards heavily, momentarily stopping its brethren, its neck at a highly
impossible angle, obviously dead. After a moment, the hulking beast
disappeared in a burst of black flame. The others, deterred only for a
moment, resumed shambling forward.
	"Are you going to get in this fight or not?!" she shouted,
preparing herself for another forward rush. The sharp, anxious tone of
Jaana's voice cut through Gani's fog like a knife, snapping him back into
awareness. A feeling commonly described as 'murderous intent' battered at
him from the approaching beasts...a cold sliver, exactly what he'd felt so
many times before, but never this strong.
	Bringing his hands up, the sorcerer tried to think of something,
*anything* to cast at the lumbering beasts, but his mind was a complete
blank. Always before it had been bandits, people he wanted to scare and
maybe harm a little but never kill. Jaana, on the other hand, had casually
dispatched one of these...THINGS...without a second thought.
	Mikhail's words echoed in his head again. "Can your magic beat a
Mazoku?" That's what these were. Very lesser forms, but these were Mazoku.
Beings of raw, coalesced evil. What was he supposed to do? What would
work?
	Jaana was having a hard time dealing with the entire group, and
they were slowly pushing her back. Grimacing, she gave a sharp roundhouse
kick toward the closest demon, who caught it and pushed back with great
strength, sending her flying back to land near Gani's feet. "Any day now,
Sanbrook..." she muttered, wiping blood from her lip with a dark look.
	However, it was a sudden touch on his shoulder that sent a change
through Gani...Mikhail's hand, trembling, soft. Scared. "Please,
Gani...help her, help us..."
	Without thinking, Gani extended his palm outward and closed his
eyes, a sudden wind springing up about him. Magic flowed through his
entire body, as he forced his will onto the universe, in his own small way
bending space and time to his desires.
	"*Blast Ash*!" he cried, and the demons inexplicably stopped. The
ground beneath them once more erupted in darkness, but this time it was
not of their own origin. Dark lines of purplish-black energy lanced into
the area, collecting in a single, glowing ball of energy in their midst
which then burst outward in a crackle of red and black light. With
horrifyingly inhuman cries, the demons simply...ceased to exist, the
spell's energy ripping their bodies apart from the Astral plane, until
nothing was left but dust.
	There was a strange, calm quiet that flowed through the area as
Gani stood, watching the results of his spell with vacant, trembling eyes.
Amazingly, there was nothing left...not even a trace of what had been an
object of terror remained. And all it had taken was two little words.
	"Gani..." came a voice, and shaking his head, the sorcerer turned
to find Mikhail smiling at him...a weary smile, but a smile. "Gani, it's
over. Everything's going to be fine." Jaana had risen, wiping at her mouth
again, but had smiled a wry smile.
	"Hopefully this has taught you something about 'adventuring'," she
said, eyeing the both of them. "I'm glad you knew which types of magic
would work on them, though."
	Gani blushed, lowering his eyes. "I didn't...I reacted on pure
instinct. You were both vulnerable, and I..." He paused. "I lashed out."
	There was a quiet moment, before it was Mikhail who spoke up.
"Anger, fear, hate, pain...the negative emotions. The source of power for
Black magic." He took a breath, holding his hand to Jaana's shoulder and
beginning a Recovery spell. "It's nice to know even that can be turned to
good purposes."
	Jaana smirked at Mikhail. "Hey, don't you read your history? The
legendary bandit killer Lina Inverse was a master of black magic. And she
did good...mostly, anyway." She paused. "Mostly."
	"Maybe..." Gani said quietly, staring at his hand for a moment,
the one which had moments before dealt out such destruction with careless
ease. Protecting people he cared for, but still. "I don't understand,
though. When they appeared I felt magic, somehow. Could someone have
summoned them? Where did they come from?"
	Jaana shook her head as Mikhail finished his spell, taking a step
backward. "I can't be sure. After all the tales we heard about Ashvale, I
guess wandering bands of lesser demons aren't too much of a stretch. But
maybe we should be on our guard for now."
	The others nodded, preparing themselves for the last leg of their
journey. Ashvale was near.

	The rest of the journey into Elmekia was spent in relative
silence. Jaana seemed much sharper, much more alert somehow than before,
something the others understood completely. The travelling suddenly seemed
less spirited, less...fun. Unsurprising, but depressing.
	However, there didn't seem to be any further incident on the trip
toward Ashvale. As the day lengthened and the hazy blue sky gave way to a
cloud-lined amber orange, the trio began to relax...in a fashion. Although
they stopped jumping at shadows in the road, none of them seemed to be
truly satisfied with the explanation that the demons had been a random
occurrence, a freak accident.
	When the three travelers arrived, they were surprised to find the
town extremely quiet. There were signs that it had been recently
inhabited: laundry hanging, shops with their doors open. But not a sound,
not a flash of movement. And, much to Gani's relief, no 'murderous intent'
either.
	"I don't like this," Mikhail said quietly, looking around as the
group entered the village's center, noting the peaceful but eerie silence
and the remarkable symmetry of the town's streets, which radiated in five
directions from the town's central point, a deep well.
	Jaana nodded, leaning against the well. "I don't either." She
stood up, looking around and finding an empty bucket leaning against a
fence. Walking over to pick it up, she gave the streets another once over.
"Ashvale may not exactly be the Saillune of the east, but people
do...*did*...live here. And after our little incident on the trip
today..."
	"Something terrible happened here," said a voice. A voice coming
from Gani's lips, but which seemed far away somehow, as if it were
travelling a long distance. Quiet. Subdued.
	Mikhail blinked, turning to look at his friend, concern etched in
his face. "How do you mean?"
	Gani turned to Mikhail, and the priest almost recoiled at the look
in his eyes. "Can't you feel it? The...disturbance. It's as if there
should be people standing right here...like I can almost see them. But
they're gone...or maybe, they're somewhere else."
	Jaana shook her head, frowning slightly. "You're not making any
sense, Gani," she said mildly, trying to force the conversation back into
familiar water. "There's obviously no one here...that's strange enough
without telling us tales about..."
	"I'm not making this up!" Gani snarled with sudden vehemence,
turning on Jaana with eyes that were at once both somewhat pleading, and
desperately angry. "I can feel it...maybe since you don't use magic,
Jaana, maybe that's why..."
	"Gani..." Mikhail said, quietly, taking a step toward his friend.
"I don't sense what you're sensing...I can't understand." He took another
step forward, reaching out a hand. "I want to, though. Try to pin it down.
Try to make some sense. Give us some proof."
	Taking Mik's hand, the sorcerer shook his head, his eyes seemingly
out of focus for a moment. "I don't know...I can't explain it better." He
took a deep breath. "It's probably all in my head. Maybe the weirdness of
this day is getting to me."
	Jaana shook her head. "Even if that's so, this is too strange not
to investigate. Don't you think?" The others slowly nodded their assent,
and the mercenary tugged on the cuffs of her gloves, pulling them tight.
"We'll split up. Each of us can take one of the roads leading outward and
look around...we'll meet back at the well before nightfall. Agreed?"
	Gani nodded, then blinked and turned to Mikhail. "Are you okay
with this? If someone attacks us again..."
	The priest's gaze suddenly became somewhat cold, and he frowned.
"I am capable of taking care of myself," he said flatly, and Gani mentally
flinched at the tone.
	"Alright..." the sorcerer acceded, though fleeting images of the
fight earlier that day flickered across his mind. Shaking his head to
banish those thoughts, and to reaffirm his trust in Mik, he nodded and
turned a bit to go. "Well, that's that, then. Back here at dusk, right?"
	Nodding, Jaana also turned to go. "Ashvale's not too big...just
yell if you find something. We'll try to catch up."

	Taking the southeast road from the center of town, Gani found
himself in a market district. Small, dusty shops lined the street all the
way to the town walls in the distance, their doors open and swaying in the
wind. The red sky of the afternoon cast a forlorn glow over the entire
place, which sent chills down Gani's spine.
	Still, he couldn't help but think that there was a kind of odd
peacefulness about Ashvale, a sense of something at rest, quiet. The only
sound he could hear was the crunching of stone under his own boots as he
wandered, looking for any sign of life. He found none. Wandering through
store after store, he found each one in perfect shape...maybe even too
perfect. But no living beings, not even a rat or an insect.
	After almost an hour of this, Gani was easily becoming
discouraged. However, one building did catch his eye. A simple storefront
with a fractured bay window in front, decorated with a golden hexagram...a
magic shop, a place which dealt in enchanted goods and books. Unlike the
other stores, which seemed to be in good repair, the magic shop seemed
almost...brutally savaged, as if a small but determined people had made an
attempt to smash everything in sight.
	Grimacing at the loss of a type of shop that was quickly becoming
extinct in the world, Gani stepped over the shards of broken glass and
pushed on the splintered door, which collapsed into the shop with a noisy
cracking sound.
	Gani flinched at the noise, then shook his head and walked inside.
The store's interior was a disaster; display cases overturned and smashed,
books torn and scattered across the floor. Naturally, anything of value
had been looted or destroyed; Gani noted with wry amusement that this
seemed to always be the case. Take what you think you can understand,
smash what you can't. He remembered similar stories from Neil about towns
left in the wake of rioting as Mazoku swarmed over Elmekia...
	Sighing quietly, the sorcerer looked around, trying to find some
remnant of the people who had once tended this shop. The door leading into
the building's living area was securely bolted; a knock at various parts
of the wood gave Gani the impression that it was blocked off with
furniture behind the door also. A brief thought passed through his mind -
that a spell would easily blow the door open - but out of respect for the
former residents, he decided against it.
	Sighing, Gani sat down heavily on one of the few remaining pieces
of furniture - a simple chair - and ran his hands through his hair. "What
a waste..." he muttered, shaking his head sadly. It was a waste. A
distrust of magic...people seemed to believe that if 'magic' disappeared
from the world, the beings associated with it...Mazoku, Dragons,
Elves...would somehow vanish too.
	Something Neil had said popped into his head as he sat, thinking
about that. "Mazoku ain't never gonna disappear, Gani," he had said,
smiling a little. "It's humans with fear and hate in their hearts, that
call to them, give them someplace to belong. The legends say that they
were created by Ruby-Eye Shabranigdo, that they only feed on negative
emotions." He sighed, leaning back in his bed, coughing before he
continued. "But sometimes I wonder if they aren't something we create with
our own anger and pain..."
	When Gani looked up from his reverie, he noticed the moon rising
in the dusky sky through the broken shards of the window. It would be dark
soon...better to get back to the well.
	As he walked outside he was assailed with questions with no
answers, and an unexplained grief for the former owners of the destroyed
shop. However, some small part of him, buried deep, said to him in a small
voice that it was more important to focus on the here and now than on
questions beyond his scope to answer. Resigning himself to finding nothing
of interest, he began to head back to the center of town.

	As he set out along the wide northern road, Mikhail felt a chill
wind blow across the town and wrapped his arms around himself, scanning
the buildings for signs of life. He had no better luck than Gani did; row
after row of stately, short houses filled his vision, but none of his
occasional "Anyone there?"s were answered, none of the houses that were
unlocked contained anything but perfectly preserved belongings.
	It was as he had given up and was about to return to the well that
something caught his eye. The dim, barely-visible orange light of a lamp
spilled out of a small stone building, which looked out of place among the
whitewashed wooden homes it lay among. Upon closer inspection, the stone
edifice appeared to be a church of some form, with two small windows of
stained glass portraying dragons in flight flanking the heavy wooden door,
which was open a crack, the sliver of orange light flowing out from it.
	Feeling somewhat dazed, Mikhail drifted toward the building, mouth
open, breathing slowly. As long as he could remember, his healing talents
had earned him the title 'priest', even though he never felt any
particular closeness to the 4 Dragon Gods or Flare Dragon Ceipheed.
	He reflected upon this as he entered the small church, walking in
and finding the lamps lit as if for an evening vigil. The building was
almost entirely a small room with an altar, and a statue of some
benevolent female figure behind the pulpit. As a scholar, he knew that
Ceipheed was absent from the world, broken by his act of sealing Ruby-Eye
Shabranigdo away, and that even one of the four Dragon Gods in whom he
entrusted his power - Ragradia, the Water Dragon King - had fallen since
the Kouma-sensou, the Demon's Resurrection War.
	Sitting down in a pew and bowing his head, Mikhail tried to focus
his thoughts. He did not consider himself a particularly pious or 'good'
man, but he did what he could to help people. Was that wrong? Late at
night, though, his learning made him wonder. The 'gods' of good were dead
or inactive. In fact, it seemed like one of the most legendary agents of
'good' - Lina Inverse - was a freewheeling maniac who incidentally
protected humanity out of incidental relation to her own self-interests.
He often wondered if humanity was even truly capable of 'good' anymore, or
had that died with the heyday of the Dragon race, which had practically
killed itself?
	Only silence answered him, and Mikhail was suddenly reminded of
why he had entered the church to begin with. Bringing his head up and
looking around, he hoped to find someone in the warmly-lit room from whom
he could draw some comfort. Mulberry was not a city of the devout, and he
had never really known anywhere else, with no desire to travel as far as
Saillune to see someone about his thoughts. To get some kind of
reassurance.
	After a moment of looking around, the priest sighed and resigned
himself to failure on the count of both of his searches, and stood up. It
was only when he did that he got a good look at the pews around
him...placed on every seat, in neat little rows, were small white
facemasks, half hideous, half beautiful. The eyes of each mask were
sunken, but glinted in the half-light, as if something shining were
contained in each one.
	Gingerly, Mikhail reached down and retrieved the one closest to
him, holding it up in the light. On closer inspection, the entire white
surface of the mask seemed to be in relief of some form...of a
horizontally-arranged hierarchical chart, starting with a hexagram and
moving down to four circles interconnected. One of the circles, the
bottom-most, completely engulfed the mask's right eye. Peering inside,
Mikhail gazed into it...and quickly recoiled in horror, dropping the mask
and only vaguely recognizing the tinkling sound as it shattered on the
floor.
	Deep inside the recess had been a single, perfectly round red
stone, of color and clarity like a freshly-drawn drop of blood.
	Long moments passed as Mikhail stood, trembling, unable to make
even the slightest sound as he stared at his hands in horror, unable to
comprehend what it was he had just experienced, only knowing he was
terrified by what he felt when he recognized the symbolism of what he had
been holding...
	...Familiarity.
	It was a long time toward dusk before Mikhail returned to his
senses, distracted and confused. Soundlessly, he made his way out of the
church in the same daze he had entered it in, thoughts whirling, and
headed for the well.
	
	Gani and Mikhail arrived at roughly the same time, to find Jaana
waiting for them, sitting on the edge of the well and staring into the
horizon. She turned with almost frightening speed when she heard them
approach, then relaxed. "You're back. No luck, I guess?" There was a pause
as the mercenary looked over both youths as they shook their heads. She 
frowned, furrowing her brow. "If that's so, then why do you both look so
out of it?"
	Gani blinked, then shook his head and sighed. "It's not anything
important. Wouldn't you say a ghost town is kind of unnerving?"
	Jaana smiled faintly. "It would be, at that." She turned and
looked at Mikhail, whose face was pale and drawn, and her frown returned.
"Mikhail? Are you sure you're alright."
	The priest nodded, eyes heavy-lidded. "Yeah...I'm just not used to
travelling this hard," he said quietly, finding a nearby crate and sitting
down. "Just a little tired."
	"Then maybe what you need is some water and a minute to lie down,"
Jaana suggested reasonably, attaching the bucket she'd found to the well's
rope. "Maybe that's what we all need." Sighing, she finished her knot,
tossing the bucket into the well. Long moments passed as she waited for
the splash, and heard nothing. The trio had been watching the well, and
all three blinked in confusion.
	 "That's strange," Jaana said. She grinned a little, pulling the
rope. "Although that seems to be the saying of the day, today. This rope
is taut, though. Who would make a well like this?"
	"I'm not sure, but..." Gani said, rubbing his chin. Thoughtfully,
he picked up a medium-sized rock, testing its weight, and then dropping it
in the well. Long moments passed as they waited for the inevitable sound
of stone on stone ricocheting up the sides of the well. They waited a good
long while and were only partially astonished to hear nothing.
	"Something is definitely not right here," Mikhail mumbled
ominously, peering over the side of the well.
	"The question is," Jaana observed dryly, crossing her arms over
her chest, "Do we really want to find out?"
	Gani looked down into the blackness, which suddenly reminded him
of the void created by his Blast Ash spell earlier. Swallowing, he nodded
his head slowly. "We've come this far, haven't we? No reason to turn back.
We can use Levitation to float down, just in case." He turned to Mikhail
to get the priest's approval, who nodded in response, then back to Jaana.
He blushed faint crimson as he spoke. "You'll have to hold on to me
tightly so you don't fall."
	Jaana smiled faintly, shaking her head in amusement. "Not every
day a girl gets to hear that, is it? Alright. If we're going to go, let's
go."
	Mikhail and Gani nodded, closing their eyes and chanting the
Levitation magic easily, rising into the air. Jaana held firmly onto Gani
as they floated toward the well, and the sorcerer was surprised at the
strength of her grip. Images of the way she easily dispatched the lesser
demon with only three strikes flooded his mind, and he flinched a bit at
the memory as they began their descent into the well.
	The darkness that enveloped them surprisingly close to the surface
of the well was choking, cloying. Gani heard Mikhail gasp and even thought
he could sense Jaana draw in a short breath. Swallowing his own fear and
holding out a hand, he tried to concentrate, weaving a second spell while
keeping his Levitation intact...not a difficult task, but not an easy one
either.
	"*Lighting*!" With a slight hum, a small ball of light with fuzzy
edges flared into being in Gani's outstretched palm. It flickered briefly,
then became stable, and he let it drift into the air.
	What he saw both amazed and horrified him. What he was looking at
was definitely not a well of any form. The sides were smooth, polished
stone of a volcanic nature - probably obsidian - and had a sinister,
enclosed feel to them despite the unusually wide shaft. The Lighting was
weaker than normal, as Gani was trying to keep two spells up at once, so
the shaft under them was a mystery in shadow still.
	He heard Mikhail breathe in suddenly, and glanced over at his
friend, who was staring downward with a horrified look on his face.
	"It's as if it goes on forever..." the priest whispered. "Like
it's waiting to swallow us up if we keep going..."
	Jaana nodded. "Maybe...but I don't feel like I can just go back
after seeing all this. Do you?" She turned her gaze on Gani, and then on
Mikhail in turn as the trio continued to descend.
	Gani shook his head. "No...no. I don't. I've got to find out
what's up with this city. It's why I came here, isn't it?" He looked at
Jaana, but it was obvious he was trying to convince himself more than her.
"To explore. I promised Grandpa Neil..."
	"Gani..." Mikhail said, quietly, but with such fervor it made the
sorcerer's blood run cold even with just one word. "Did you think about
that? What would the three of us do about something that even a Gungnir
Knight couldn't face?" He shivered as Jaana and Gani's gazes turned on
him. "And the demons...can't you see it? Something's *wrong*, Gani. I'm
scared..."
	Flinching, Gani was suddenly keenly aware of how he had pushed his
friend into coming when it might have been better for him to stay home,
and seemed about to say something when he felt Jaana's hand grip him
unusually tight, as if telling him not to respond. The mercenary glanced
at Mikhail sidelong, then lowered her eyes.
	"Would it help if I said I was scared too?" she said softly,
clenching a fist. "You can't outrun fear, Mikhail." She sighed and looked
down, not noting the priest's sudden glance in her direction as he bit his
lip. "No matter how hard you try. You may not have to face it down, but you
can't run away either. Besides, Gani will protect you. Right?"
	The sorcerer blinked at Jaana's words, and felt a slow blush creep
up his cheeks. Turning to Mikhail, who was looking at his reaction in
confusion, Gani nodded once, slowly. "Yeah..." A brief wave of nausea washed
through him unexpectedly, although he didn't understand why until he heard
Jaana gasp and looked around.
	"We're here..." the mercenary said. "Wherever 'here' is."
	'Here' was a breathtaking sight. Even beyond the range of Gani's
Lighting magic, there was a soft, icy blue glow around the entire chamber,
as if lit by faerie fire. However, all that could truly be seen was a vast,
seemingly endless expanse of blackness that extended in every direction. The
ice-blue glow seemed to be coming from pinpricks of light scattered
throughout the blackness, making it seem as if the trio were trapped in an
endless night sky.
	Mikhail took in a deep breath, afraid to let his Levitation spell
go. "It's beautiful..." he whispered, reverently, but with an almost wild
undercurrent of fear in his tone.
	Across the room, Gani blinked, looking around. "A warped space..."
he said breathily, after a moment of contemplation. "Somehow in the well
shaft, we entered a pocket dimension of some sort..."
	Frowning, Jaana pushed out with her toe experimentally, and blinked
when she felt it push against something firm, as if she were standing on
cobblestones. "I have no clue what that's supposed to mean, but..." Letting
go of Gani, the woman fell a whole 6 inches, landing on empty space with a
reassuring *clack* noise. "...apparently, this is solid."
	Looking at each other briefly, and then at Jaana, both Mikhail and
Gani floated to the floor, letting their feet touch what passed for 'terra
firma' completely before letting go of the magic that allowed them to float
in the air.
	"It would take a magician of remarkable power to create something
like this..." Gani said breathily, looking around like a wide-eyed child.
"Certainly no one alive in this day and age could do it. It's probably been
here for a long time..."
	Blinking, Mikhail held a hand to his chest, trying his hardest not
to emulate Gani's random gawking. "The Demon's Resurrection War..." he
whispered softly. "What if this was caused during that..."
	Jaana and Gani, who had until then been examining their surroundings
with a mix of curiosity and confusion, suddenly turned on Mikhail.
	"If that's true..." Jaana whispered, blinking. Suddenly, the
magenta-coated guardswoman looked remarkably vulnerable and disconcerted,
disturbingly so to her companions, who had yet to see her unhinged as such.
She paused, then set her jaw, the resolve flooding back into her with
alarming quickness. "We should leave. It's not safe."
	Blinking, Mikhail turned his head to Jaana, who stared back at him
intently. "What? Weren't you the one saying that we could only go forward?"
he demanded, suddenly aggressive. "Why are you backing out now?"
	Her eyes hard, the mercenary advanced on Mikhail a step, and the
priest found himself taking a step backward at the vehemence in her eyes.
"Because this isn't a beginner's adventure anymore! There's a line between
bravado and suici..."
	"We can't leave," a voice interrupted. Unearthly hollow, and coming
from Gani.
	Both of the sorcerer's companions turned to find him staring,
glassy-eyed and immobile, at a doorway. It was, surprisingly, a very simple
door of brown wood with an ornate iron handle. The most important quality of
the door, however, was the fact that it had not been there less than 10
seconds ago.
	Mikhail nodded, ignoring Jaana and taking a step toward Gani.
"You're right, Gani...we can't leave. We have to go forward...right? You'll
protect me." With each successive sentence he took another step forward,
until he was right behind the sorcerer.
	"Gani..." Jaana whispered softly, approaching him as well, but not
interfering further.
	Gritting his teeth, the sorcerer half-turned his head to address the
people behind him. "This is why I came here. I don't care if there's an army
of Mazoku a mile long behind that door...if I don't open it, I'll never
know. I'll never know if I was meant to be something more than just a
winemaker with a stupid dream..."
	"It's fine, Gani," Mikhail said quietly, smiling at him, eyes
somewhat heavy-lidded. "We believe in you. 'If I'm going to choose a future,
it's one where I live!'. Isn't that what you said to me?"
	The only answer to Mik's comment was the clicking of the door's
latch. With a creak, it swung open. There was a tense moment as the trio,
guts or no, prepared themselves for the worse; Jaana slung herself slightly
limp, ready to roll or run forward as needed. However, once that moment
passed and everyone discovered that nothing had happened, they peered in the
door.
	Inside was a small, cubical room of stone, almost like a basement in
appearance. It was neither richly appointed nor full of glittering treasure;
in fact, Gani noticed as he walked over the threshold, secretly glad to be
out of the disturbing star field room. The new room he instantly realized
was a magician's atelier - an alchemy workshop - but a very sparse one. In
fact, it contained almost nothing to mark it as such. A few scattered
bookcases, mostly empty, lined the walls, as well as a small shelf with a
jar or two with unidentifiable liquids of various colors inside. The room's
floor was decorated with a protective symbol, a magic circle that took up
almost the entire floorspace. A pentagram, meaning that the owner had an
affinity for Black magic, Gani noted with no small amount of trepidation.
	Sitting alone, in the very center of the warding circle, was a
pedestal of white marble, atop which sat a small, leather-bound book.
	Jaana blinked as she entered just before Mikhail, standing near
Gani. "Is this what I think it is?"
	Mikhail nodded to her as he walked by, eyes glassy and expression
unreadably stoic. "An atelier..." He drifted across the floor with an almost
aimless step, until he came to a stop in front of the book. "Of a mage,
probably long dead." The priest's fingers slowly drifted over the tome's
cover, before flipping it open.
	Blinking, Gani came to stand behind his friend, peering over his
shoulder at the book. "You're right...those runes are a very old language
for magic, probably dating back as far as the Demon's Resurrection War..."
Frowning, the sorcerer peered at them carefully. "I can't read them very
well, but it looks like a diary..."
	"Today I finally finished," Mikhail said, inhaling, then beginning
to read in a quiet, almost monotone voice as Gani and Jaana looked on in
surprise.
	"Can you read it, Mikhail?" Jaana asked, incredulously. "I thought
you..."
	"It took some time to find a place of power such as this, but
finally I've made all the preparations," Mikhail said, continuing as if
Jaana hadn't even spoken. Gani took a step back as Mik kept speaking in the
same dreary, dark voice. "I am not sure what good calling on Him will do,
but the test of the spell was able to slay an ancient Arc Dragon in one
blow. Such power to be used for humanity, or against it..."
	The book closed with a soft *thump*, but Mikhail kept speaking,
staring forward. "'Darkness beyond twilight, crimson beyond blood that
flows'...I have finally found them. The Chaos Words that tap his power."
	"Mik...what are you...WAAAAGH!" Gani began to question his friend,
but was suddenly assailed with an intense feeling of 'murderous intent',
stronger than he'd ever noticed in his life, pushing him backward from the
priest's body like a physical force of great intensity and little finesse.
He put a hand to his head and saw Jaana making a similar fight against the
sudden blast out of the corner of his eye.
	"The legendary magic, Dragon Slayer...what you humans came to know
as the Dragu Slave," Mikhail said, the voice becoming oddly split, as if two
voices were talking on top of each other, echoing and clear as a bell in the
small room despite the rush of wind and the sound of blood in Gani and
Jaana's ears. "Created by the most powerful sorcerer to have lived, Rei
Magnus...Finally, I am home."
	Throwing his arms wide, Mikhail screamed, facing away from the two
other occupants of the room. The pentagram beneath him flared with
prismatically shifting light which eventually deepened to a fiery, single
color...a deep, bloody red. Slowly, tendrils of white and black energy
erupted from the young priest's body, and he screamed...and unearthly,
keening howl that pierced into the deepest recesses of Gani's soul.
	"What's happening?" Jaana shouted, and Gani was barely able to hear
her above the physical din, and more importantly, the mental din...although
his mystic senses were not finely tuned machines, he knew what was happening
in front of him concerned immense power, power that hammered at him like a
physical thing.
	"I don't know!" the sorcerer replied, trying to take a step forward
and finding that fighting the pressure pushing him back was useless, sinking
to his knees; even the surprisingly strong Jaana could do no more than creep
forward. "Mik! Mikhail, please! ANSWER ME!"
	Gani's cries went unheeded, however, as the ribbons of light around
Mikhail's form suddenly lanced through him, seeming to shred him
apart...what lie underneath was a horrible, mottled-looking form, monstrous
and the same crimson color of blood, streaked through with the white and
black patterns of energy. Slowly, the blood-red being crawled out of the
'shell' of Mikhail, shedding it like a snake skin.
	Surprisingly, the sorcerer was momentarily distracted from the
horrific sight by something bumping against his leg. Glancing at it, he saw
the tome which had once lay on the pedestal, lying open in front of him,
pages curiously unmoving in the wind. The runes, previously unfamiliar,
seemed to bleed together and reform, alive on the page, forming something he
could understand, something familiar...
	"Darkness beyond twilight," Gani began, reading, his entire body
trembling as he fought to force his hands out in front of him. If this spell
was as strong as the book had described...maybe it could work in his favor
now...
	"Gani?!" Jaana shouted, glancing at him in horror. "What are you
doing? We have to escape!"
	Unheeding, Gani continued to read, shutting his eyes tight and
thrusting his hands forward, palms out, with a sudden burst of strength.
"Crimson beyond blood that flows, buried in the flow of time...In thy great
name, I pledge myself to darkness..."
	The being in the center of the room's keening began to increase in
pitch and variable, a demonic, warbling cry that modulated wildly as the
emerging creature attempted to turn its half-formed body to look at Gani,
the malformed half of a face visible to Jaana almost curling in a smile.
	The mercenary's face suddenly drained of color, and she tried to
move at Gani, only to find herself pinned by the unknown force pushing them
both back. "Gani! Stop! PLEASE!"
	Small motes of red and black light, almost bubble-like, began to
float around Gani as he prepared to read the very last lines from the book,
fighting to stand up, somehow feeling vigor flow into his limbs. "Let all
the fools who opposed us be destroyed by the power you and I possess!
Dragon...SLAYER!"
	There was a horrible, almost peaceful silence for a single moment,
before the motes of light around the sorcerer coalesced into a single,
shining crimson ball in front of him, pulsating with the same ruby light
that surrounded what was once Mikhail. Screaming inarticulately, book
discarded, all forgotten, Gani threw himself forward. The ball of energy
became a brilliant red beam, lancing outward at the beast.
	There was a moment, a single moment, before contact, where Gani
thought he could see the face of Mikhail hidden in the being's ruby eyes,
begging him to stop...but the step had already been taken.
	Jaana's scream was the last thing he felt or heard as the beam
struck the being in the center of the room, and then the light became
unbearable and all was silent.

	It was warmth that Gani first felt, then the wetness. Slowly, his
eyes opened, and when they did he found he was looking into a cloudy but
azure sky. The sounds of a forest surrounded him, a sunshower slowly
drizzling upon him.
	His entire body ached with pain he couldn't describe, but he managed
to turn his head slightly to see Jaana unconscious on the ground next to
him...breathing, but thoroughly out.
	"You poor soul," a voice said, as if from the heavens. "What have
you done..."
	Gani fought to stand, to look for the mysterious female voice, but
found he could only lie there, his eyes closing and not of their own accord.
	"Sleep...for now. Dream. We'll talk more of this later."
	As he drifted away into unconsciousness again, Gani could once again
hear the voice of Mikhail screaming for his protection, before the blackness
covered him once again and all was quiet.

			[To Be Continued]

<----->

Author's Notes: Whee!
	I was dubious about adding another Slayers fic to an already glutted
market, especially with the general backlash for original vs. canon
characters. But I'm very proud of this work, mostly because in spite of its
flaws (perceived or actual), it's a *story*. A good one.
	Thank you to all of my pre-readers, almost all of whom are
Improfanfic friends of mine: Ravi, Ardweden, Delfina, Mechalink, Chris
Nichols, and Robin Strickland. If I missed any of you in here, sorry! Thanks
for all your help.
	Hopefully the second part will be quicker in coming than the first
(which took over 5 months to develop, personal issues included)! But I
promise I'll try and keep telling the story.
	A warning: I am relatively sure of my Slayers canon. This story
uses a bit of anime canon and a bit of novel canon and a bit of stuff I'm
changing to suit my tastes. I encourage you to please keep Slayers canon
comments about the story to yourself, as I will likely not even read
them. Nothing personal against any of my readers, but I think that focusing
on the canon takes away from the goal of this project - telling a *story*.
	'Dragon Slayer' is not me misinterpreting 'Dragu/Dragon Slave',
honest ^_^. 'Dragon Slayer' is the original name that Rei Magnus, the
spell's creator, gave to it. Since Gani is reading from his notes, I
maintained the original name.)
	The Gungnir Knights are a mention from the Slayers novels, but the
destruction of Elmekia Kingdom is my own creation.
	Thanks for reading!
	>Todd Harper (lina@sandwich.net, lina@inverse.org)