Another day, another dozen dead of the Red Plague in Bonta. And he could only guess at how many more had died in the days it took for this letter to reach him. Yugo swallowed as well as his tight throat would allow and kept reading. Things looked more grim with every letter he received. Bonta's authorities were scrambling to contain the disease and tend to those already stricken by it, and no doubt it had taken Joris a lot of effort just to find the time to write this letter.

And there, near the end, was an outright plea: 'I know that much of your culture was lost, but still there might be something. If you can find anything to help, please do so. The people of Bonta are suffering, and we have received reports that the Red Plague has also appeared among most of our allies, including Sadida. We need all the help we can possibly get.'

"More bad news?"

Yugo looked up at the sound of his brother's voice, and turned to find that Adamaï had entered his room while he was reading. The dragon's voice had deepened over the past few years to match his growing bulk, a stark contrast to the voice Yugo had heard when they first met; it was still a bit hard to recognize it when Adamaï was out of sight. That was just another new wonder for someone with a dragon as a twin brother—apparently the dragon experienced growth spurts several years after their Eliatrope sibling did, and then kept on growing. Adamaï's true form was already as tall as a dragoturkey at the shoulder, and he had begun to stoop forward as his arms thickened and became stronger, developing toward the day when they would eventually help support his massive body. He wore his human form now in order to fit inside the house.

"More dead," Yugo replied, his voice still rough with grief. He passed the letter to Adamaï, who took it carefully in his unnaturally white hands and began to read.

"That makes over two hundred now," Adamaï sighed, then paused as his eyes settled on the final plea at the letter's end.

"I can't just sit here," Yugo growled as he hopped down from his desk chair and began pacing the room. "There must be something we can do!" he did another circuit of the room, then paused when he noticed the conflicted expression on Adamaï's face. "What's up, Ad?"

Adamaï didn't look up at the question. At times his blue lips parted slightly as he tried to speak, only to close again as he thought better of it and tried to come up with another way to rephrase what he was about to say. "We can't just sit here and do nothing," he agreed finally, still not looking Yugo in the eye.

Yugo waited patiently in silence as he watched his brother; he had learned through years spent with his sibling that it was most effective to allow Adamaï to think rather than interrupting him mid-thought.

"I might know a way," Adamaï looked Yugo in the eye this time, and it was plain to see that he was not happy about what he would eventually have to say. "But I don't know if it's the right choice."

"Alright," Yugo found his desk chair again and plopped himself down on its cushioned seat, ready to hear Adamaï out.

Adamaï took a seat on Yugo's bed and tapped his clawed fingers on the bedstead, eyes focused on the rug in front of his feet as he mulled over what he was about to say next. "I told you about what happened between me and Qilby in the Zinit, right?" he looked up at Yugo.

"You did," even now, years after their battle, Yugo still felt a sharp twinge of regret whenever he thought of Qilby. Locking him away had been the logical choice, but it didn't make Yugo feel any better about what he did. There was simply no other way. Even the fact that he felt regret over what he did made him feel guilty; what Qilby had done to Adamaï, the scars his actions left, such things should have stirred a boiling rage in Yugo's heart every time he thought of the traitor. And yet, every time he thought of it he felt only sadness, which in turn made him feel guilty for not being more angry over what Qilby had done.

"It's something I remember him mentioning to me before he showed his true colors," Adamaï continued, turning his gaze back to the letter in his hands. It was slightly crumpled now thanks to his fingers, which had gone rigid as he thought of what they might have to do. "He said he was able to cure a lot of diseases with his research," Adamaï kept his eyes on the letter as he finished speaking. It had been eight years since the betrayal and Adamaï's possession by the shushu Anathar, and even now there were nights when he woke up silently screaming because of a nightmare in which he'd been taken again. He still harbored a hefty grudge against Qilby because of it, he was the first to admit that, but he didn't feel that it made him better for it. In a way he envied Yugo's ability to move past what happened, whether it be because of a noble heart or because he'd been spared the horror of being possessed by Anathar.

Yugo's mouth tightened, and he glanced down at the floor. He knew this suggestion was a hard one to make for Adamaï, especially after having comforted his brother on those difficult nights. It was possible those scars would never fade. "Ad..." Yugo looked up as he spoke, but Adamaï held up a hand for silence.

"No. I won't let people die because of a stupid grudge," Adamaï's jaw tightened and he got to his feet, now resolute in the course of action they would have to take. "I won't let myself be like him," he took a deep breath to steady himself, then looked up at Yugo. "We need to talk to Baltazar about this before we do anything. It's only right."

"He should've heard us by now," Yugo slid down from the chair again to stand before his brother. "Be ready to give Wakfu for the passage."

As if on cue, a glowing circle appeared in the air behind Adamaï and spiraled out into dozens of intricate curves and lines. In moments the zaap was fully formed and ready to take them to Emrub, timeless home of the Eliatrope people. The sudden drop in the Wakfu their bodies contained was expected, but unpleasant nonetheless—such was the toll for traveling between the dimensions, since the pair refused to ask that the children give Wakfu to bring them there.

"It is good to see you again, my king," Baltazar's deep, husky voice greeted them as their feet touched the grass of one of Emrub's many planetoids, and they looked up to find that the dragon was seated immediately before them now. His scales had faded from age long ago, and his eyes were lined by thick wrinkles; already ancient when he had been tasked with looking after the children, Baltazar had been forced to spend thousands of years stuck with a body that didn't work as well as he needed it to. Even past the wrinkles and general worn look that Baltazar had, the two brothers could clearly see that he was troubled by their proposal, despite the warm greeting.

Baltazar looked slowly around at the crowd of Eliatrope children that now surrounded them and gestured toward one of the nearby planetoids with a nod of his head, "Leave us for now, children. You will be able to visit with your king in good time."

The children's faces held a mix of uncertainty and worry as they looked up at Baltazar, but they obeyed nonetheless and left the planetoid in brief flashes of pale blue light.

With the children out of earshot and unable to interrupt, Baltazar returned his attention to Yugo and Adamaï. "I have heard what Adamaï proposed," one stubby paw worked at the grass beneath him as he spoke. It was obvious that he was agitated by the proposal, being the only dragon left alive who had personally witnessed Qilby's treachery. "I am not sure such would be the best course of action," Baltazar continued, slow and careful as he selected each word. "How severe is this plague you mentioned?"

"At least two hundred dead and still spreading," Yugo replied. His frown deepened, his fingers curled into fists, and his face became tinged with a blush of anger as he looked up at Baltazar, "Are you suggesting that we sit here and wait for more to die before we do something? How many do you want dead before we try?" Even past the anger it was clear that Yugo was close to tears—he couldn't bear the thought that so many were suffering already, and that many more might still have to die.

"Yugo," Adamaï set one hand on Yugo's shoulder, and his twin flinched and looked to him instead, his anger temporarily diverted. "You know that's not why Baltazar is saying this."

"Sorry," Yugo's arms slowly relaxed as the anger died down. He sniffed loudly, and took a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself. It helped, but a light shade of red still remained on his forehead and draped across his cheeks.

"Baltazar, this is an opportunity to make a proper place for our people on the World of Twelve," Adamaï looked up at Baltazar as he spoke, his hand still on Yugo's shoulder. "We can't let our hatred overpower our respect for life. We saved the people of the World of Twelve before, so why should we abandon them to such a horrible fate now?"

"The Traitor will only betray us again," Baltazar grumbled, his voice tired. Such a fact should have been obvious even to someone who did not witness the massacre all those millennia ago, but Baltazar knew that the brothers—Yugo in particular—would not leave the issue alone until a solution was found. "After thousands of years of solitude he still did not learn his lesson, he betrayed our people again as soon as he was released. Even if he were to succeed in finding a cure he would only turn on us at the first opportunity," he continued. "How do you intend to keep him from doing so?"

"Qilby got us last time because we didn't know what he was," Adamaï replied, his voice firm and patient. "That advantage is gone now, we won't be tricked again."

"You do not know that," Baltazar's tail flicked in anger, but his voice remained level.

"And what will our allies think if they find out we had a solution but chose not to use it? How will preventing something that might happenbe any comfort to those who lost loved ones?" Yugo asked. "There must be a way we can keep him under control once we let him out."

Baltazar let out a long, rumbling sigh and stared up into the dark blue mass that was Emrub's sky. It wasn't what might happen; Baltazar was sure that Qilby would betray them again sooner or later. He despised the idea of ending Qilby's solitude prematurely, but there was more to think of than his hatred at the moment; such a service done for the World of Twelve would go a long way toward winning acceptance for their people, and an end to their long stay in Emrub. It wasn't fair to let more die when the traitor might be useful, and it wasn't fair to make the children keep waiting for their freedom either. They could always throw Qilby back into the Blank Dimension as soon as he started causing trouble, too. "Give me some time," he said finally as he looked back down at them. "If I can find a solution then we will go through with your plan."

"Thank you, Baltazar," Yugo gave the ancient dragon a nod of thanks which was mirrored by his brother, and the two left Baltazar to his own thoughts.

The twins used the available time to talk with the Eliatrope children, sharing stories of their adventures and listening to the stories the children had to tell of the old days, back when the World of Twelve belonged only to the Eliatropes and their dragon brothers. They had just begun admiring the various arts and crafts made by their subjects when a small blue orb flashed before them and led their gaze to the planetoid that Baltazar was still seated on. The dragon was sitting up, the Eliacube cupped in his front claws as he waited for the pair to return.

"I have consulted the Eliacube," Baltazar began as Yugo and Adamaï landed on the lush grass before him. "And I have found as good a solution as any," he held the Eliacube before them, Wakfu arcing from his claws to the device as he sought the design he was after. The transparent image of an apparently-plain metal collar appeared above the Eliacube, accompanied by various diagrams and notes written in Draconic. "The typical function of this device restricts the wearer's ability to channel Wakfu by drastically reducing its flow to the head. With the help of the Eliacube's computations I will also be able to add a new functionality: no lie will be allowed to pass the wearer's lips."

"Do you have everything you need to make it?" Yugo asked, watching as the Eliacube dimmed again and the diagrams vanished.

"Materials from Emrub are weakened when taken into the main dimension," Baltazar replied. "We will need materials from the World of Twelve in order to make it properly."

"Give us the list, we'll get everything you need," Adamaï straightened slightly, firm in his decision to take action. He refused to let a mere grudge slow him down when there were lives to be saved.

The materials were easy enough to acquire: various metals that could be purchased from local merchants, and the extra Wakfu Baltazar would need for shaping and laying the enchantments on the collar would be taken from the Crimson Dofus. Soon the brothers were back in Emrub, watching as Baltazar forged the collar with the help of the Eliacube and Shinonome's Dofus. Yugo had been expecting some sort of input from Qilby's sister on the matters at hand, but it seemed she had long since fallen dormant; she remained silent as Baltazar prepared the collar, even as her Wakfu was being drawn to make it. Spell engravings were mirrored on two strips of metal which were pressed together and welded to keep them from being easily tampered with, then the piece was formed into a half-circle.

Before long Baltazar held the cooling metal collar in his front paws, examining it for any flaws before they began the next step of their operation. For now it was in two pieces—each a mirror of the other—that would clamp together once placed around the neck for a perfect fit. "I will create the lock code myself," Baltazar said as the Eliacube floated closer. "And now we must fetch the traitor from his solitude," he made an attempt to hide the distaste in his voice, but it still came through just enough for Yugo and Adamaï to notice. Necessary as this path was, there was nothing to stop Baltazar from being unhappy about it.

Yugo nodded, though his heart twinged with a mix of fear and guilt as he thought of the Blank Dimension and its lonely occupant. "I'm ready," he said.

"Want me to come with?" Adamaï offered, having sensed his brother's apprehension. He had taken on his true form upon reaching Emrub, and stood several feet higher than Yugo now.

"No, I can do it," Yugo replied. Privately he wondered how Qilby would react, and whether he would end up causing trouble again. It was impossible to know with someone like him, and all Yugo could do at this point was stand firm and hope that he was making the right choice.

An intricate zaap opened before Yugo, but this time it would not lead him home. This time its other end opened into the Blank Dimension, where the traitor to his people was trapped. Yugo paused just before the zaap and took a deep breath, then stepped through and into the infinite white landscape of Qilby's prison.

It seemed as empty and unnerving as when he'd been there last, and Yugo glanced over his shoulder to check that the zaap was still there. It was. Baltazar was keeping it open for the sake of Yugo's nerves, and it wasn't as if the prisoner would be going anywhere if he managed to sneak past; Baltazar would probably sit on Qilby the moment he stepped through by himself. Yugo turned back to the endless expanse of white that lay before him, and down. Qilby had to be around here somewhere, it wasn't as if he could leave.

A droplet came into contact with Yugo's face and splattered as he searched, and he looked up to find just the Eliatrope he'd been searching for. Yugo pushed off and drifted up to where Qilby floated like a drowned man in the pale abyss and soon discovered where the droplet had come from; one final tear still managed to cling to Qilby's face. Yugo wondered just who he'd been crying for as he took a moment to look at him more carefully: Qilby was thin as always and more ragged than usual thanks to their fight, and from what Yugo could see all traces of the Eliacube's influence were gone. No more blackened nails or hair bleached blonde after the flow of power had ebbed away. Both had faded back to their normal colors, and the blue residue of power that had clung to the stump of Qilby's left arm was completely gone, leaving the ugly scars entirely visible. Yugo felt his stomach lurch at the sight of it—the scars from the initial attack by Phaeris remained, and on top of those were what appeared to be sear marks running from the stump to Qilby's shoulder. A lasting mark left by the flow of the Eliacube's power.

Yugo drifted to Qilby's right side and took his intact arm in one hand, what remained of the other being mercifully out of sight from this position.

The children had been asked to remain on the neighboring planetoids while Qilby was dealt with, leaving the two dragons completely alone as they awaited Yugo's return. They straightened slightly when Yugo emerged from the portal, as if they were ready for the traitor to spring up and make a run for it at any time.

Qilby remained limp and silent as Yugo passed through the zaap with him, apparently so drained that he was unable to move on his own. The young Eliatrope lowered him to the grass once they were through, allowing him to come to rest on his back.

"Here, Yugo," Baltazar held the collar pieces out to the young Eliatrope. "It is ready, put it on him now."

"No," Yugo shook his head. "I want it to be his choice."

"His choice?" Baltazar spluttered, almost unable to believe his ears. "What will you do if he says no?"

"You really think he's going to say no?" Adamaï glanced up from where he crouched beside Qilby, an incredulous look on his face.

"A mere technicality if that is the case," Baltazar snapped, annoyed at being talked back to by a dragon so much younger than him, king or no. "He would never willingly choose to go back to the Blank Dimension, so why bother?"

"Because a collar like that has implications on the World of Twelve that you might not know about," Adamaï replied.

Yugo had taken a seat beside Qilby while Adamaï spoke, and now he looked up at Baltazar as he carried on from where his brother left off, "Some use metal collars to declare ownership over others, against their will." From the look on Yugo's face it was obvious that the mere thought of owning another sentient being disgusted him, and in truth he had been wrestling with the issue for some time.

"And this particular collar does not do so. It is a security measure to help ensure that he does not betray us again. He is otherwise free," Baltazar's massive lips curled in disgust at the word. "To do as he pleases providing it does not do harm to us or to the World of Twelve," he set the two halves on the grass before him, in easy reach of Yugo. "In any case it is too late to debate the ethics of this decision now. The Traitor will repay his crimes through service to the World of Twelve and the Eliatrope people, or he will return to the Blank Dimension. Those are his only two options," Baltazar briefly considered bringing up those dying of the Red Plague again, but it was a reasonable guess that Yugo and Adamaï already had them in mind; the brothers were not likely to forget the very reason they had opted to remove Qilby from his solitude in the first place.

"Alright," Yugo said with a sigh. "But I still want to give him the choice."

Baltazar resisted the urge to grumble aloud; if such a little thing would stop Yugo from being bothered about the issue it then was a small price to pay. There was no chance of Qilby saying no in any case, even with his natural power suppressed and the ability to lie eliminated; as Baltazar had said before, asking was merely a technicality and nothing more, and it was certainly more courteous than what Qilby deserved for what he'd done.

Time dragged by in silence as the group waited for Qilby to regain full consciousness. Finally one heavy-lidded eye cracked open, and the pupil slid down and to the side until it came to rest on Yugo's face. Qilby blinked, and his eyebrows drew together in a troubled frown as he tried to piece together what was happening.

"Yugo...?" the name came with an unspoken question as Qilby opened both eyes and turned his head to face Yugo: Why am I here?

The younger Eliatrope knew full well that he would have to choose his words wisely, but now he was at a loss for what to say. What did you say in a circumstance like this? There was always the blunt approach: Here are your two options, find a cure for the Red Plague or return to the Blank Dimension and serve your time there. But stating it like that made him feel like a tyrant. Yugo took a breath to begin speaking, but Adamaï cut in before so much as a word left the young Eliatrope's mouth.

"The World of Twelve needs your help, Qilby," Adamaï stood to his full height as Qilby looked at him. "You have two options. Find a cure for the Red Plague that has fallen upon the people of the World of Twelve, or return to the Blank Dimension. It's your choice."

"You will also be wearing this collar," Baltazar tapped one of the collar pieces with one claw. "You will be unable to use your powers, and unable to lie."

"And then I'll be sent back once I've done it for you," Qilby's voice held little energy as he spoke, and he stared dispassionately up at the blank sky of Emrub rather than looking at anyone else in the group. "Right?"

"I don't want that," Yugo spoke before he could stop himself. It was the truth, he would rather have Qilby out in the world trying to help others rather than wasting away in the Blank Dimension. And perhaps, he would be able to find a little healing for himself as well.

"Yugo—" Baltazar's voice rose in warning, but Yugo spoke over him as he got to his feet.

"I'd rather not send you back to the Blank Dimension once this is over, Qilby," Yugo had grown noticeably in the years since he and Qilby last fought, and now he drew himself up to his full height. It was still shorter than Qilby would have been if he were standing, but tall enough to tower over him while he was on the ground. "If you don't cause trouble I'd like to keep you out here with us, where you can do some good instead."

"But I deserve to be locked in the Blank Dimension, don't I?" Qilby asked wearily, still avoiding eye contact with Yugo. He seemed listless, like he had completely resigned himself to his fate regardless of what it would be.

The reply was entirely unexpected to Yugo. Qilby actually questioning whether he deserved to be out of his prison, rather than immediately decrying it as an unjust punishment? Yugo himself still wasn't entirely sure of what would be the just thing to do in this case, though those who witnessed the treachery would undoubtedly state that he belonged there.

"Of course you deserve it," Baltazar rumbled. "But we do not have the luxury of letting you rot in solitude at the moment," he pushed the two collar pieces toward Yugo, careful to keep them from touching each other. "Ask your question my king, so we may stop wasting time and begin to work on solving the problem at hand," he gave Yugo a respectful incline of his head and sat back again.

"Right," Yugo stooped to pick up the collar pieces. They felt unusually heavy, and slightly warm either from their forging or from the power that flowed through them even now. He straightened and turned to Qilby, one half held in each hand. "Will you help us?"

This time Qilby turned his head to face Yugo, and he spent a few moments staring at the younger Eliatrope and the collar pieces. "Really only one option, isn't there? I'll help," he said finally. He turned onto his right side and pushed himself up into a sitting position where he waited for Yugo to put the collar on him, hair held off to the side by one hand.

The collar pieces snapped together as if drawn by a magnet as soon as they were brought close to each other. It was a snug fit, but still loose enough to fit a finger or two between collar and skin for the sake of comfort. Qilby released his hair and put a hand on the battered hat that he still wore even now. "No use for this anymore," he removed the hat, revealing that his Wakfu wings—already dim from his time spent in the Blank Dimension—were rapidly fading away.

Yugo found the sight inexplicably disturbing, perhaps due to the fact that the wings were like another set of limbs in and of themselves for an Eliatrope—to see them just fade away like that was more than a little horrifying.

"Seems fitting enough," Qilby mused to himself as he passed his hand over the place where one of the wings had been, a humorless smile on his face. "So, when do I start?"

A/N: Please note that this fic has been AU'd to after the Wakfu "manga" and before the OVAs; I won't be able to gauge whether they can be properly aligned until Season 3 has come out.