Rebirth

It has been said by many very wise men that a man's reaction in times of true hopelessness is the true definition of his character. No guise, no masked life can shield the inner self from revealing itself during that moment when Death rears its ugly face. There are those who buckle under the weight of an unimaginable burden, but then are also those who surprise even themselves with the mental resolve that they have been blessed with. That fighting attitude existent til dying breath is the very characteristic which separates common men from Heroes.

And Heroes are born in certain-death situations.

"Talk sub-human!" An armored soldier barked, brandishing his sword wildly at his chained prisoner. "What happened to your Master?"

The blue-maned Laguz strained mightily as he attempted to remember the fateful events which have led to where he is now, but his back was so sore that it was hard to to comprehend anything but pain. His arms were chained to a stone wall in the basement of a prison, his chest facing the wall and his exposed back subject to the whims of his captors.

"Again." A dignified voice said when Ranulf again chose to not reply. Immediately, another piercing sting of pain seared through Ranulf's back as a whip cracked in the background. He had done a fairly good job of concealing his pain from his captors to this point but it had become so intense that he could not hold back a scream any longer.

"Take a chain off." The dignified voice said. Before the pain in his back had a chance to subside, one of the soldiers slowly unchained one of his hands as painfully way as he could.

As the chain finally slid off his sore wrist, Ranulf felt himself being turned around so that his back was now against the wall; whether he was doing this himself or one of his captors was forcing him to do so, he was not consciously aware.

"I will ask you again." The dignified voice said. "Why did you do it?"

As the pain receded and Ranulf regained some of his senses, he noticed in full detail the three men who stood before him. Two of them looked to be lower swords, recruits possibly. They were wearing the same crimson and silver armor; identical, except that one held a sword in his hands while the other held a whip. The third figure was, if it was not obvious before, of a higher rank than the others. How high up could not be made certain but he wore expensive-looking robes instead of anything combat related, so it could be safely assumed that he was a man of power.

"I don't know..." Ranulf said with a pant. "...what you are talking about..."

"Indeed!" The man said with genuine laugh. "Excuse me for making assumptions but it is not everyday that a human master drops dead and his sub-human slave is caught scampering through the streets."

"Be honest." Ranulf said, finding some grit somewhere inside. "You would have said it was me whether or not I fled."

"This changes nothing." The leader replied roughly. "It was you, there is no doubt, no doubt at all. You will tell me why you did and then you will accept your punishment of death."

"You'll have to offer me better than that if you want me to talk." Ranulf replied cheekily.

"Oho, but it is a better offer than you think!" The leader said with an obviously fake laugh. "If you choose to cooperate with me, I will treat you like any other annoying pest and just kill you quickly. But if you attempt to make a mockery of me and spit at my feet, I shall make this more painful to you than you can possibly imagine. I will torture you until you are literally inches from death's front door, but I will not push you through. I will keep you alive just so you can feel the pain of your dishonor. If you make my life tough, I will make yours hell."

Ranulf was not quite sure exactly what possessed him to act in such a defiant manner (there was no denying that he was guilty as accused, after all) but he slowly sucked up what little saliva he had in his dry mouth and spit it at the leader's feet. He followed with a self-confident glare at the man, whom simply looked smug at the simple gesture which spoke volumes.

"Very well." The man said quietly. "Chain him up again." He said quickly to one of the other men before turning back to Ranulf. "Let this be your reconsideration period, sub-human. You have 'til this time tomorrow to change your mind. If tomorrow comes and you still refuse to talk, I will uphold my promise and you will not be given another chance for mercy."

"So that's what you call this?" Ranulf hollered over his shoulder as one of the other men grabbed his free arm and proceeded to chain it up again in the same shackle as it had been in previously. "Mercy?" His arm was secured once more so he was now shouting into a stone wall, but he did not care. There are some things in life that are just worth fighting for, no matter the consequences. "There are many words that come to my mind when I try to describe this situation, but 'mercy' is far from being one of them."

The man laughed that fake laugh again. "You and I have different views on the word 'mercy,' it would seem. Tomorrow, sub-human. Choose carefully."

Ranulf listened as the sound of three sets of footsteps grew more and more distant until they faded into nothingness. And Ranulf was alone once more. There was little he could do here but stare at the cold, stone wall in front of him. Something as simple as relieving his bowels would prove to be problematic; but he need not worry about that right now, having not eaten a bite of anything in the three days he's spent in this cell. His wrist began to hurt like hell again, chained to the wall as it was, but he took solace in the fact that his wrist would become numb sooner or later and he would not be able to feel a thing anymore. And in his current predicament, there was very little that he could take solace in.

A byproduct of having all this time alone was that he had plenty of time to think, and he sure did have much to think about. It was hard to believe that it had only been a little more than two months ago that he was rejoicing with Gallia, indeed nearly all of Tellius, over the fall of Ashnard. It was hard for him to think about his fellow warriors, knowing that they had no idea where he is or even that he is any danger at all. He would die before they even realized anything was wrong.

Ranulf silently cursed himself, for what seemed to be the hundredth time since he was caught, for not realizing the danger that he put himself into, or perhaps just pretending it didn't exist. Not a week after the extravagant post-war celebration did Ranulf decide to take a well-earned leave of absence. It was common knowledge amongst all of his friends, superiors, and fellow warriors that he was in an uncolonized nation to the north of Tellius for an unspecified amount of time. There was no cause for concern for any of them.

If only they had any idea, for there was great cause for concern. Ranulf left on his trip and at first, everything went as planned. He arrived in the dense woods to the north of Crimea and spent a few days exploring uncharted territories and experiencing the natural beauty that would top even the best of what Gallia had to offer. Trees in this area were ageless and rose to the heavens. The plants were thick and irksome to move past, but brilliant in an unexplainable way. The sea-line was untouched; it seemed as if he was the first person to ever set foot on the sandy beaches. It was as if he had entered a whole new world when he entered this area.

But he soon realized he was a fool to think that this world was completely uncivilized. Looking back, it seemed obvious to him; just because everyone in Tellius believed the area to be unpopulated did not mean that no one lived there. As it turned out, the area was quite civilized, and they were not a hospitable bunch.

It was about a week after he arrived that Ranulf first made contact with the indigenous, or rather, the pre-existing peoples. In his little knowledge of the history of this land, Ranulf had surmised that the indigenous population had been wiped out years previously, and the conquerors were runaways from Tellius attempting to make their own kingdom. They were not able to do so, mainly because of their small numbers, but they had still managed to wipe out the primitive people who already populated the land. The indigenous are very nearly wiped out by now, with a few left behind to serve as slaves.

Another mistake Ranulf made was to approach these people (who turned out to be the conquerors) when he first saw them and attempt to communicate with them. He was surprised that they understood him when he spoke in Tellius' official language, and was even more surprised when they seized him. So for the next couple of weeks, Ranulf served as a slave to a rich merchant. He was not what would be classified as a "good" slave; he, at that point, really had no clue what was going on, which led him to become violent, disobedient and hostile. And he would stay that way, until the day he finally was driven over the edge. These men were justified to accuse him, it was by his knife that his rich merchant master fell. And now, a month or so after his departure from Tellius, he had found himself serving a death sentence and his friends would think that he is enjoying his pleasant trip to the northern woods. Perhaps his captors will have the goodwill to sent his body home to Tellius, so that his friends would know how stupid he really was.

The next morning, or what he assumed to be morning, Ranulf awoke from his standing slumber with a rough shove to his shoulder and an incoherent assemblage of words shouted into his ear. His cheek had been resting uncomfortably on the cold stone wall in the only position which Ranulf had managed to find sleep in with both of his arms chained to the wall. Even in that position, there was not much sleep to be had, but there was no better option.

"Wake!" Hollered the familiar, dignified voice that Ranulf had grown accustomed to the day before. Ranulf was still half-asleep and very groggy that he had not even noticed that one of his arms had been unchained. With a jerk, Ranulf whirled around in the direction that his chain allowed him to and faced the familiar three faces from the night before.

To Ranulf's great surprise, all three of them were carrying a tray with freshly-cooked food on them. At the scent of their delectable aromas in his nose, Ranulf's stomach instantly went berserk and howled in desperate agony. It was only after a few minutes staring at the food with hopeless longing did Ranulf's mind finally come back to life and realize that the food was not going to come free.

"Good morning, sub-human." The leader said in a horribly patronizing voice. "You seemed to have gotten a good night's sleep." He added with a smirk.

Ranulf glared at the man and must have conveyed the message that he so yearned to shout, for the man's grin instantly vanished and was replaced by a steady grimace. "Down to business, then." The man said in a serious tone. "I do hope you've taken advantage of your chance to reconsider my offer. This is a once in a lifetime-" he put extra emphasis on the word. "-opportunity."

Ranulf again did not speak. The presence of the food certainly affected his resolve, but somewhere deep inside his soul, there was an unknown yet oddly familiar voice calling out to him and giving him guidance. And Ranulf knew that he could trust this voice.

After a moment or two of silence, the man spoke again. "That's a pity. We had all this food and more ready for you to eat to your liking, but I suppose if you still don't want to change your mind...well..." His voice trailed off.

"A full stomach will hardly protect me from your blade." Ranulf spat.

"Listen you filthy sub-human!" The man yelled in a hushed tone so that it was barely louder that his normal voice. He took several paces forward so that he was now speaking directly into Ranulf's ear and sending shivers down his spine. "If you don't take this offer, I will put you through so much hell that food will be the last of your worries! You'll be chained to this spot for weeks begging for starvation to come, but it never will! Now I will ask you one last time, is there anything that you would like to tell me about your Master's death?"

It was at that moment that Ranulf realized that this was no longer about if and why Ranulf killed his master, it had grown much more personal than that. This man just wanted the satisfaction that comes with dominating another being, so that he can feel empowered and entitled. And all Ranulf felt at that moment was how he knew that there was no way in hell that he was going to give the man that satisfaction. Without thinking about the repercussions or anything other than wiping that filthy smile of the man's face, Ranulf raised his right hand, clenched his fist and in and act of defiant judgement, struck the man hard across the cheek.

Time seemed to slow down for a moment and Ranulf could watch the next events unfold in complete detail. The tray of food the man was holding toppled slowly to the ground, contents spewing everywhere, and hit the ground with a loud crash. At almost the same time, the two other guards unabashedly dropped their own trays, drew their weapons and hurried closer to the prisoner in aid of their fallen leader. And the leader seemed to move at an even slower pace than everything around him, as if his shock and disbelief somehow hindered his motion. He toppled backwards to the ground with a thud, blood freely running out of his obviously-broken nose and staining his colorful garments and the ground.

And then everything began to move at ten-times speed. The guards were waving their swords at him threateningly and shouting words that were too fast for Ranulf to comprehend. The leader was rolling around on the ground in a small pool of his own blood, shouting a different curse between his every sob.

But after what merely seemed like a minute, the leader was back on his feet and had ordered the other two to stand down and withdraw their swords. He had torn off a layer of his clothing and pressed it to his nose in a vain attempt to stop the blood flow. Nevertheless, he had regained his composure and ready for vengeance. He did, however, choose to keep his distance when he spoke this time around.

"Why?" The man uttered in a sharp, piercing voice. "Why do you still fight? You are already as good as dead. You're life is meaningless. You are nothing to me. You will never see anyone you have ever known again. Why do you still fight?"

Ranulf took a moment to think and he honestly did not know the answer. But as he opened his mouth to say that he didn't know, he heard the voice again and he realized that he did know. "I guess, when you come down to it," Ranulf stated in a matter-of-fact voice. "My life still has meaning while I am still breathing. And for now, that meaning is to make this as tough on you as possible, something I rather enjoy."

Ranulf flashed him a mocking grin, to which the man clenched his jaw and spun on his heel. "Put his chain back on." He said as he walked out of the prison cell with a huff. And even though his wrist began to flare up again because the guard took extra care making sure he made it as painful as possible, Ranulf could not stop himself from smiling. He had won this round.

Ranulf saw no more of the lavish man and his cronies over the next few hours, as he had fully expected. The man had suffered a humiliating defeat; it was not likely that he would willingly expose himself to the rest of his guards in his current state. No, he surely would be alone in his chambers while he waited for the ugly proof of his bloodied nose, no doubt swollen to twice it's normal size, to wear off. It is an unthinkable shame for a captor to be caught in a moment of weakness to his chained captive. Ranulf knew, however, that this action had done nothing more than delay the inevitable. He was still trapped here with very little hope of getting out. If anything, he would now have to go through a personal vengeance in addition to his prior punishment, for the leader would certainly want retribution. But Ranulf, even now, did not care about that. There are not many victories to be had as a prisoner, it is best to take advantage of every opportunity for a victory, however minor and meaningless it may be.

Ranulf sighed and glanced at that cursed band around his ankle. Escape would be, not only possible, but perhaps fairly easy if only he were able to transform. But these people apparently were well versed in the Laguz and their functions, further proof to their ties to Tellius. Not only that, but they had concocted a device which is only thought of back in Tellius: a small ankle band which, when put on a Laguz, prevents his ability to transform. Ranulf had no clue how these exiled marauders had managed to do that which many fine mages had failed at (Their were many Laguz-hating mages scattered across Tellius and even though he hated them to the bone, he had to respect their magical abilities). And in virtual exclusion too; Ranulf had to guess that they did not have many Laguz to test on. Unless these people operated an underground Laguz trafficking business, which, he had to admit, was a plausible explanation.

Whatever the case, the ankle band still dangles at his feet and prevents his every attempt of transformation. At first, he had fooled himself with the idea that whatever spell placed on it would eventually wear off if he attempted to transform enough times. It did not take long for him to give up on that idea, for the spell still stood strong even after days of relentless attempts. The band was skin-tight and could only be removed with a key, so he couldn't take it off at will. And worse yet, he had no idea where the key might be. He had been unconscious when they dragged him into this godforsaken cell, so he would have no idea where the leader might live. And he had to assume that it was not on his body, at least not when he came to see his hopeless prisoner, for it would be a foolish risk to give a prisoner that good an opportunity to swipe it. And even worse still, he did not even know that this man that he had seen so much of was even the keymaster.

If only he could get the blasted chains off his wrists, for even one lousy second. Cat form or not, he did pride himself in being a very capable fighter, as well as an elusive runner. Hand-to-hand combat was a prominent aspect of training for the warriors of Gallia; indeed, all of the Laguz world. If not for their adept abilities without a weapon, they would be totally vulnerable to their enemies when they lost the energy required to stay transformed. Still, the best hand-to-hand training in the world still would have very little use against a small army of alert guards armed with Beorc weapons.

Ranulf had no time to think any further for he had just noticed the hallway in front of his cell was beginning to light up dull orange. Brighter and brighter it got, quite obviously the effect of a flame torch moving down the hallway towards him. As if further proof was needed, Ranulf soon began to hear accompanying thump's of someone's footsteps moving in unison with the torch. Ranulf waited impatiently as the figure moved nearer and nearer, silently wondering why he was getting paid a visit now, in the silence of the dark. It was nighttime by now, he could reasonably infer, because otherwise the torch would be unnecessary. This was strange, as he had, to this point, only been visited during the day. Odder still, there only seemed to be one figure approaching him, as opposed to the three (one leader plus the two henchmen) he had become accustomed to.

As the figure came nearer still, Ranulf finally recognized the figure as the leader he had seen so many times. This actually took quite a bit of effort even when his face finally came into view, for the effects of the punch he had sustained were even more profound than Ranulf had expected. The nose had swollen as Ranulf had expected, but it had swollen to a degree that he had not thought possible. There was still a trace of bright red underneath his nose where there was a thin scrape that stretched across his entire upper lip. But it was the man's left cheek which had taken the largest turn for the worse. Ranulf had thought that he mainly connected with the man's nose with his punch, but evidently he was wrong. The man's entire left cheek had become a dull blue color, showing the large amount of bruising he had taken. And, even more than that, the bone underneath seemed to have taken some damage as well, disfigured into an unnatural shape that resembled a bent arrow.

Ranulf held back a strong urge to grin at the leader's comic appearance as he approached. Whatever pain he might be feeling at present time, the man made up for in anger. His brow was furrowed and his eyes cold. And his heavy stare lay directly on Ranulf.

Despite his better judgement, Ranulf could not bite his tongue. "Rough day, huh?"

"Shut it and listen." The man said in such a forceful voice, that Ranulf's bones began to cringe. "You will pay dearly for that little stunt you played. You cost me my reputation, my power! They've given me a leave of absence for this, for these injuries I've sustained. But I will have my revenge! You're coming down with me!"

Ranulf furrowed his brow in disbelief. "They fired you?"

"Yes." The man replied. "But that doesn't mean I'm done with you."

"But why not?" Ranulf asked quizzically. "Surely they, whoever they are, have already replaced you?"

"Obviously." The man said matter-of-factly, then smirked, "What I am doing isn't, shall we say, legal? Only my higher-ups know that I have been replaced, the guards here still think I am in charge. So when I came walking down to your cell just a minute ago, they were none-the-wiser when I asked them to allow me a few minutes to chat with out dearest prisoner."

"And you plan on...transferring me?" Ranulf asked quietly. Did the opportunity he was waiting finally arrive?

"That's right." The man replied eagerly. "You have cost me my career, I have to be the one to kill you; after much torture, of course."

"Naturally..." Ranulf replied quietly. "Well, what's the plan, sarge?"

To answer, the man did two things. First, he reached to the hilt at his side and drew the blade hidden there and directed it at Ranulf. Then he reached into his pockets and pulled out a pair of shackles. "First of all, I would like to remind you that I have a weapon and I will not hesitate to kill you if you attempt anything at all. Alright, now that that's out of the way, I will explain. You see, I will use these shackles here to chain the two of us together. There is about three feet of chain between the two shackles. I will lead you outside back to carriage. I will unchain us and re-chain you into the back of my carriage. From there, we will just ride back to my house, where you will be placed into a similar cell which you are in now."

Ranulf had to bite his tongue just to refrain from licking his chops at the potentially great opportunity that lay before him. If there was any chance for his survival, he would have to act here and now. The devil lies in the details. He would still have to play the part to act on his chance. "Well, don't let me get in your way. I have grown to like this section of wall but do what you gotta do, I suppose."

"Pfft, that is irrelevant." The man said with a huff. "Whether you are in my way or not, I will still have my revenge."

"And that will get you your job back?" Ranulf said with a frown.

"No." The man said after a short pause. "It will give me pride back. My honor. Something you sub-humans lack."

A quick, fiery retort sprang to Ranulf's lips but he held strong and kept his mouth shut. He knew that if he had let his anger get the best of him here, in this precious opportunity he found himself in, he would surely shut the door on himself.

"Oh good, seems I have finally quieted the beast." The man said as he took a step forward and began unlocking one of Ranulf's shackles. "You see that; all you have to do is put a sub-human in his place for him to act accordingly. Who am I kidding? You don't know that feeling, you are a sub-human. Let me try to help you understand a bit better, you are to me what dirt is to the bottom of your feet; lowly, insignificant, hardly worth a moment's notice."

Ranulf's jaw clenched and even began grinding a little bit, but still he said nothing. But his quivering jaw spoke almost as loudly as his words would have.

"Oh, what's that?" The man said condescendingly. "You do have something to say, don't you? Well, why don't you just say it? Perhaps some misplaced sense of honor? Because, as I said, you have no honor to begin with, so I would not worry much about that." The man ended with a horribly obvious fake laugh.

With a soft clang, Ranulf's right hand came loose from the wall, but as he soon noticed, it was not completely free as it had been yesterday. The man had attached the second shackle to his wrist before he took off the first one, so his hand was still not free. Instead of the wall, his wrist was now chained to his other wrist.

The man now shifted his attention to Ranulf's other wrist which still lay chained to the wall. "Although, in the end, it doesn't really matter. I couldn't care less what a sub-human has to say, and in a few short hours, you'll be dead anyway. But I will admit that I had been looking forward to witnessing the day that your spirits broke. A secret pleasure of mine, you see. Alas, that is but an unobtainable luxury now; time is short and your will is surprisingly strong. I will have to settle for less."

Ranulf's other shackle came loose and he was no longer chained to the wall. Instead, he found an intricate design of two sets of chains that kept him from moving his arms to the extent that he would like. The first set was about three feet in length, and it chained one of his arms to that of the other man. The second set was hardly longer than half a foot and it chained his two arms together. So the end result meant that he was basically tied up, getting dragged behind the other man as he walked.

Without further notice, the man started walking back down the hallway with Ranulf getting pulled right behind him. "I must caution you again, sub-human. You attempt to overpower me or escape in any way, the results will prove dire for you." In a mock-subtle move, the man pulled back a section of his robe which allowed Ranulf a unobstructed view of the hilt of what was his large knife. "I come prepared, you see. Do not test me."

Ranulf knew at this point that it was now or never.

"Yes, you did." Ranulf said in a quiet voice, while getting himself into position. "But there is one thing that you overlooked."

In one swift, clean motion, Ranulf swept one of his feet underneath the man, knocking his feet out from under him. While he did so, he lunged his hands to the spot the knife was, drew it from its scabbard, and flung it away from the scene, out of reach. The man landed on his back with a hard thud. He acted surprised at first, but his face immediately paled with fear when he reached for his knife and realized it was no longer there there.

Ranulf smiled as he looked down on his captor, finally in a position of power once again. "We 'sub-humans' are quick." With that, Ranulf raised one of his feet, thankfully still wearing a boot, and brought it down on the man's face forcefully. The boot made contact with the sickening crunch of bones breaking and life passing. The man fell limp before Ranulf had time to withdraw his foot, his lifeless body moved no more. At last, he was free.

At least for a moment or two he was, until he realized he was still attached to the cadaver through the chains which had been laid upon him. Silently wishing that he had chosen a cleaner way to off the man, Ranulf began searching the corpse of his oppressor for the key to his release. Blood from the man's broken nose and jaw and various other injuries to his face still oozed lightly onto his garments, which required Ranulf to take caution as he began shifting through the robes of his fallen enemy.

After a very thorough search, Ranulf finally found a key in a coat pocket, covered in fresh blood. He swiftly jammed the key into each of the shackles and thankfully, both fell to the floor as he took the key out. No longer chained in any way, Ranulf placed the key back on the man's cadaver and picked up the knife he had discarded earlier. Ranulf continued his trek down the passageway. As he got further down, the number of torches would increase and he could see better. Until, at the end of the hall, he was looking out a large window. And this light would prove fortuitous, as he was able to catch himself before he barreled into a guard that had his back to him.

Without any more delay, Ranulf silently slit the throat of the guard with the skill of an assassin. He used one hand to cover the man's mouth in case he tried to scream and used his knife hand to brace the man's fall to the ground, so as to not alert any of the other guards. And the man was dead before he hit the floor.

With the guard out of the way, Ranulf took a moment to observe his surroundings. It was nighttime outside, but the moonlight provided more than enough light to see around, and then there was also a few torches along the walls. At the end of the hallway, the path took a fork; he could either go left or right. Taking a step forward, Ranulf peeked down these paths and saw that each was patrolled by a separate guard, and each were facing him. Thankfully, under the dull light and with their beorc eyes, they could not see him. But there was no way he could get near enough to one of them without him noticing well beforehand.

Ranulf took a step backward as he contemplated a third alternative; forward. He seemed to be on an upper floor of a building, so jumping out the window normally would not be an option without the risk of serious injury. However, Ranulf did see a mysterious glint of moonlight reflecting off water in front of the spot where the window was. If there was a large enough body of water at the side of the building, he could perhaps survive unscathed.

It deserved a test. Silently, Ranulf removed one of his boots and prepared to throw it. As quietly as he could so as to not disturb the guards, Ranulf hurled it out the window in front of him and waited in anticipation. A few seconds later, a gratifying splash rose to meet his ears. And thankfully, the guards either did not hear the noise or did not consider it a threat, for they did not make any move whatsoever.

Having no idea what laid before him or what he was getting himself into, Ranulf broke into a jog toward the window. He tried to be as quiet as he could but, in actuality, it wouldn't mean anything if he alerted the guards. If the guards did hear him running across the hall, and if they chose to believe that they actual did hear something and that it wasn't a fragment of their imaginations, he would already be down in the lake and would have more than enough time to lose himself in the shadows before they arrived on the scene. At the edge of the window, Ranulf made no hesitation as he propelled himself over the edge and into the depths beyond.

Down and down he went. Below it was impossible to tell, even with his gifted eyesight, whether or not he was descending into water. The moonlight rippled in a body of water some yards in front of him, but it was not clear if it extended to where he was falling. So he waited and waited. And, after what seemed like an eternity, he felt the welcoming splash of water on his one exposed foot. And so, with a smile on his face, Ranulf opened his arms and consented to be consumed by the water.

However, there was not as much water as he had been hoping for. What water there was had slowed his descent to a great extent, but he still hit the water's bottom at a dangerous velocity, and he felt his knee bend at an unnatural angle as it buckled underneath his weight. If he was not completely submerged in water, he would have heard a loud scream of pain. As it turned out though, all that came out of his mouth were many large bubbles, which drifted lazily up and out of the water.

The pain in his knee was excruciating, but his soundless scream had left him thinking nothing but more air. So he swam his way back up to land-level, letting his bum leg dangle uselessly as he did so. As he gasped for breath, the first thing that Ranulf noticed when his head hit air once more was the sporadic movement of the torchlight up on the third floor of the building he had just leaped from. His actions had not gone unnoticed; surely the guards would have noticed the dead guard by now and the dead leader in a few short minutes.

The prospect of vanishing into the shadows suddenly became much more daunting with his bad leg. Even as he scrambled to stand on the shoreline, he felt his knee buckle at the slightest amount of pressure put on it. The pain was unimaginable but Ranulf struggled to a stand as he waded out of the water. Back on land meant that he would have to put more pressure on it than in the water, but the growing number of flickering lights from the building gave him the extra motivation that he needed. In a half-walk half-hop trot, Ranulf managed to travel along the shadows beneath the building, searching desperately for a place where he could go to hide while he caught his breath.

He would find no such luck. The were many dark spots around but he needed something closed off because, though it was dark now, the Beorc would be down here mere minutes from now and this whole area will be under torchlight. The scene was bare and the crevices few; Ranulf was forced to make his getaway into the nearby woods. Doing so under normal circumstances would be easy, the woods were not far from where he stood now. The journey would take no more than five minutes at a lazy walk, probably less. That was five minutes that he did not have, however, and leg made it hard for him to move much faster than a walking pace.

But it was his only option at this point, so Ranulf broke into a limping jog and hoped beyond hope that the Beorc did not put two and two together as quickly as he believed they would. Eternities past as Ranulf crossed the open fields, the shouts of frantic guards becoming more and more audible as time went. Ranulf could feel the light behind him growing stronger as more torches quickly entered the scene and he was almost sure that they could see him if they knew where to look. And though he felt the urge, he did not dare look back. He kept his eyes focused on the trees in front of him, behind which he knew he could find more than enough cover. Despite his wild movements and his inability to move silently due to his dead leg, the Beorc did not seem to notice their fleeing captive. They were frenziedly running around near the spot in the lake where Ranulf had jumped in, but they were unable to determine where he went after he got out, or whether he got out at all. And for that, Ranulf silently thanked the goddesses as he gratefully entered the shadows under the treetops.

Ranulf groaned and slowly opened his eyes. All he could feel in his otherwise-numb body was a throbbing pain in his hurt leg. The pain had lessened somewhat but it was still damn near unbearable. Light came to meet his eyes as they widened, and he noticed that it was around high-noon. His memory of the previous night was hazy to say the least, but he did manage to remember making it somewhat deep into the woods until his body gave out on him and he collapsed for a long, well-deserved rest.

And then it hit him. The light breeze running through his hair. The soothing chirps of the birds overhead. The soft grass pressed up against his exposed skin. The cool shadows of the trees of the woods. He was finally free.

"How are you doing?" came a voice from somewhere off to his right.

With a jolt, Ranulf sprang to his feet, an action he immediately regretted, and wheeled around to meet the voice. If his leg hurt before, it was nothing compared to how it felt now. It was as if someone had tied a huge boulder to his hip the moment he put pressure on his bad leg, making it nearly impossible to stand. Still, Ranulf did his best to ignore all of this.

"Whoa, easy there, you're going to re-injure that leg of yours." Said the blue-haired man who looked very familiar.

"Wha-?" Ranulf gasped as he attempted to comprehend the scene before him. "Ike?"

"Just lay back down." His Beorc friend said with a smile. "You'll want to take it easy for a little bit."

Just the sight of a familiar face made Ranulf want to jump up and down, hurt leg or no. But Ranulf resisted that temptation and instead settled on a grand smile. "Ike, man, am I glad to see you. Every day for these past couple of weeks I thought I was going to die."

"Settle down." Ike said quietly. "You're going to be alright. Well, that is if you heed my advice and get off of that leg."

Ranulf smiled and nodded, knowing that his leg would certainly thank him if he took pressure off of it. In a slow, careful motion, Ranulf lowered himself back onto the grass where he laid his hurt leg down straight to rest. Once the stinging pain began to disappear, Ranulf finally asked the burning question which had been ready to burst out of his mouth since his first saw his friend here in this desolate place. "Ike, how did you find me?"

Ike lowered himself down onto the grass to sit next to Ranulf. He just sat there for a few minutes and stared off into some place deep in the woods and didn't say a word. Ranulf was beginning to think that Ike had, for some reason, not heard the question. But just as Ranulf was about to repeat it, Ike answered.

"I've been here a couple days now. About two weeks ago, I got the feeling that something wasn't right. You were gone for far too long. I tried asking everyone else about you but they just told me that you were fine, that I just needed to be patient. I tried to convince myself that this was the case, but I just couldn't shake the urge that you might be in trouble. So I left the next day."

Ranulf frowned. "Did you tell anyone?"

"Nope." Ike replied. "They would have just tried to convince me to stay."

"But how did you find where I was?" Ranulf asked. "You had no idea where I was heading and this area is huge."

"I tracked you." Ike answered. "It was tough, you have light tracks. But I followed them until the point where your tracks got lost in the tracks of other people, and I knew then that I must have been right, something was wrong."

"You tracked me all the way here?" Ranulf asked, moderately surprised. He had not tried to cover his tracks, but all the same, a Laguz has light feet and their tracks are not easy to pick up, especially for the eyes of a Beorc. "That's impressive."

"I learned from the best." Ike said with a light smile.

Ranulf returned the smile, remembering the time that Ike had approached him and asked him to teach him how to track someone undetected. He was a quick learner, that's for sure, but Ranulf had no idea then that he would, one day, be able to distinguish the tracks of a Laguz that were weeks old and follow them deep into the woods.

"And those tracks led me here." Ike continued. "I knew you were nearby but I had no idea where. So I waited a couple of days here in these woods, hoping for some kind of sign of your presence to flash before me. And now here you are."

Ranulf nodded, not knowing what to say. It just seemed too good to be true. Not a full day ago, he was still chained to a wall and almost hoping that he would die, just to relieve himself of the pain. And now here he was, free and with probably his most trusted friend.

"What's that thing around your ankle?" Ike asked quietly.

Ranulf glanced down towards his feet and realized that the cursed band still lay attached to the ankle on his good leg. It felt as if the world came crashing down on him again. Where just a moment ago he felt he was free, now he was ensnared once more. He was powerless with the band on him. He was still a prisoner.

Ranulf cursed quietly under his breath. "...I forgot about that..." He said with a sigh. "It's an anti-Laguz band. It does basically what you would expect it to, prohibit the transformation of the bearer."

"You can't transform while you have it on?" Ike asked.

"No." Ranulf replied. He attempted to transform to prove to himself that this was still the case and he was not surprised. This attempt had gone the same way as his countless other attempts have gone.

"How can you get it off?" Ike asked.

"There is a key, somewhere." Ranulf said in response. "I would have no idea where to start though. I never heard any mention of it, never even caught a glimpse of it. It could have been right in front of my face and I wouldn't have known."

An awkward pause followed as Ranulf stopped to try to remember some sort of clue as to where it might be, or perhaps to just silently curse his luck, and Ike gave him that opportunity. "It is some kind of spell, right?" Ike asked after a minute or two. "I wouldn't be surprised if Soren could reverse it for you, and you could get it off that way."

Ranulf nodded but didn't say anything. It was a possibility, that much was true. But if it turned out that Soren could not undo the magic that had been done, then what? He would have to return all the way back here in search of the key, a key which might not even exist any longer. If their prisoner escaped, it wouldn't make much sense to hold on to that key, and it would probably be lost into common trash before long. And then he would be forced to live his life not being able to transform and searching desperately for some way to remove the band.

Ranulf grimaced, but continued trying to ponder his options. After a few moments and still no definitive ideas to run on, he felt completely lost and asked genuinely, "It's a tough choice...what do you think?"

Ike seemed hesitant to respond. He looked to the ground and shuffled his feet a bit, and looked anything but comfortable. "I'm not sure.." He said unconvincingly after a moment or two of thought. "It's a difficult choice, like you said, and...well, its a big choice for you, I don't want to tell you to do something that you might regret."

Ranulf frowned. "Come on, you know I'd trust you with my life."

"Yeah, I know, but I wish you wouldn't." Ike said with a sigh, but he smiled encouragingly. "Alright fine, I'll tell you what I think. If it were me, if I was stripped of everything that made me who I am, I would want nothing more than to fight whoever it took to get it back. Even if I had the opportunity to fall back, create a new identity, I wouldn't do it. Something like that is just too important. I couldn't just sit back and let someone dominate me that way, regardless of the circumstances. I might fail and they still may have their way, but I'll show them that if they are going to hit, that they should be prepared to get hit back."

Ranulf could feel the passion flowing from Ike's lips as he spoke almost as clearly as he felt the breeze running through his hair. All it took was those few words and Ranulf had suddenly been washed of any lingering doubts, and his mind became set. It seemed foolish now, to think that he had considered running away from this. These people had taken from him his entire identity as a Laguz, without it he was nothing more than a Beorc (not that that was a bad thing, Ranulf thought hastily, silently glancing at the great Beorc who stood in front of him). He was Laguz by nature, and if was to live no longer a Laguz, then he might as well die now.

"Alright." Ranulf said with a grim nod, and a grim understanding of what lay ahead. "Let's do this."

Ike returned the nod and silently stood up. "I've got a plan. I had been thinking about doing something like this for the past couple of days, but could not figure out a way to make it work. But now with you here, I can tweak it a little bit and I believe it will work."

"Alright." Ranulf replied. "What is it?"

"I will enter their campsite alone." Ike said definitively. "I will garner their attention. They will not attack or imprison me, that much I am sure. And while all eyes are on me, you will ravage their campsite for the key you need."

Ranulf frowned. "But how can you be so sure that they will not chain you up?"

Ike sighed and replied, "Because I have already made contact with them. They deal exclusively in the slave trade of Laguz, as you perhaps have already guessed."

Ranulf smiled inwardly, remembering having guessed this himself while he was still chained to the wall. Nonetheless, this fact did prove advantageous for him as the collective eyes of the slave traders will be focused on their guest, and ignorant eyes are the easiest to fool.

"Alright." Ranulf replied with a nod. "I'm in. When?"

"I'll leave now to gain their trust and make my presence known to as many people as possible." Ike replied. "You leave later tonight, around dinner time, and you search as quickly as that leg allows you to because I don't know how long I can hold their attention."

Ranulf felt himself wake with a start that evening. It was like clockwork, he was wide awake now where just a moment before he was sound asleep. Light sleeper as he generally was, Ranulf was always able to wake up when he needed to, regardless of the time of day or the amount of sleep he had gotten. The sun had just disappeared beyond the horizon and the color of the world was rapidly being consumed by darkness. The night was completely silent, and if all went correctly, that is the way it would stay.

Ranulf rose to his feet and lightly rubbed his eyes. His eyes were heavy but his will was as strong as ever, as he mentally prepared himself for the reclamation of his stolen independence. The task was daunting but he did not fear it because he knew that the most respected warrior he had ever met would be fighting alongside him.

There was no trace of Ike anywhere nearby but that was to be expected, he had left the moment Ranulf's eyes closed early today. Ranulf had forgotten to ask him what they would do after the heist. They would have to meet up again someplace, perhaps back here, perhaps back in Tellius, but it was too late to ask that now and there was too much to be conscious of now to be worrying about that. He would have to survive first before he could think about escaping.

As Ranulf got to his feet, his noticed that the pain in his leg seemed to have dulled quite a bit, almost to an extraordinary degree. He could still feel it burning but he now felt like he could deal with the pain that came with putting strenuous pressure on it. Call it apathy or call it a miracle, but his bad leg now seemed like nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

What was rapidly becoming a formidable foe though was his stomach. He honestly could not remember when he had a full meal, it had to be at least three days ago, possibly more. He did take time to down a few mouthfuls of water when he jumped into the lake the night before, but his entire being craved for sustenance. He was ready to go, all that he had to do was attach the knife from the night before to his waist, just in case its use was needed. But before he could depart, he needed something that could at least pose as food, just so he could fool his body. He scanned the near horizon for anything that could pass as edible, and his eyes stopped on a small berry bush just outside the campsite.

They weren't much for his hunger, but their juices were bliss on his parched throat. He became so entranced on stuffing as many of these berries into his mouth (to the extent that leaves and small twigs also found their ways into his mouth in his haste) that Ranulf temporarily forgot about the giant task before him. However, it would not take long for him to come back down to Earth due to the rapidly-worsening pain in his gut. Whether the pain was caused by the fact that he hadn't eaten in days and now gorged himself or if it was just because the berries were not quite ripe yet, Ranulf had to spit out what remaining berries he had in his mouth and clench his gut in an effort to dull the pain.

The pain was relieved in a matter of minutes but Ranulf did not jump back into the berry bush. Instead, he coughed up a fraction of a leaf which had wedged itself into the back of his mouth as he made his way back to camp. It was not nearly as much food as his aching body so desperately yearned for, but it would have to do. He had wasted too much time as it stood now, it was time to get going.

After one last look around the area to make sure that it looked as though he had never been there, Ranulf turned his back and began his onward march. As soon as he stepped out of the cover of the trees, he realized how crazy this plan really was. He was walking right into the heart of a fortress, every guard of which would surely attack him on sight. And his goal was to find an indiscernible key that could be anywhere. Forget finding the needle in the haystack, he was looking for a strand of hay in a pile of needles. It was definitely an eerie feeling, knowing that he was walking straight into the ugly face of danger alone. But he need only think about everything that he had lost to take that next step forward.

And then, there it was. Ranulf had not gotten the chance to fully appreciate it last night, but now he got to see the building that was his prison for all of its luster. The building was not very big in terms of length and width, but its top rose to the heavens. In fact, he was awed most by the fact that a building that tall with such a small base could stand upright and not fall over. The building was all black and was the tallest building in sight, no contest. If there was any hope to be found, it was in there, where all hope was once lost.

Ranulf moved cautiously and deliberately but the fact of the matter was that there was not a single soul in sight. And even if there was, the sun had receded enough so that their was hardly enough light for the Beorc to see much farther than a couple feet ahead of them. An unusual combination of apprehension and resolve grew stronger in him with each step he took, until finally he was standing at the base of the large building. Their was a large fire and a lot of noise coming from a spot in the field on the other side of the building, hopefully signifying the large distraction was working. However, Ranulf continued to move with caution, knowing full well that he would more than likely face a few guards, whether or not the people fell for the distraction.

At the base of the building, Ranulf found the entrance; a huge wooden door with many elaborate engravings and even a doorknob that seemed to be made of pure gold. He decided against entering that way, however, and not because of how hard it would be to open a door that heavy, but because he knew that there were probably at least a couple guards stationed inside that would see the door open. So he continued to walk around the side of the building, silently hoping that there was a second, less significant entrance into the buildings.

His prayers would go unanswered, but he found something that would prove to be equally effective. On the side of the building opposite the grand entrance, there was a small open window just beyond arm's reach. Judging by the scent of cooking food in the air, he had to guess that the room on the other side was a kitchen, which would make sense as a kitchen would need a window to vent.

Ranulf jumped up and caught hold of the bottom of the window and climbed his feet up onto a couple of groves in the stone wall so that he could see into the room. His guess was right, the room did appear to be a kitchen and, even better, was completely empty. With a bit of effort, he climbed up the rest of the way and wedged himself through the window. He landed silently onto the ground below and quickly moved across the room to the only door, which opened into a long hallway.

He took a deep breath and peeked out into the hallway. To the left, the hallway opened up into a room with a large staircase, presumably the entry room he would have go into had he entered through the grand entrance. Oddly enough, there were no guards in sight in that direction, although he could not see much of the room so they may very well be hiding in a corner or something of that sort. To the right, the hallway continued on a long way before diverging off to the left and out of sight at the end. However, there was a group of two guards walking away from him down this path of the hallway.

The first floor (or the basement for that matter, if there was one in this building) seemed like the obvious place to hold all of the keys. It would make no sense to have to go halfway up this ridiculously tall building to get a key that unlocks a door on the first floor. Then again, the key he was searching for was no ordinary door key. Where would they keep the slave keys? In the room of whoever was in charge maybe? And where would that be? The first floor again seemed like a good choice for that, but so too did the highest floor in the building.

With so many questions and not very many good leads, he just decided to keep moving and scope out the first floor. He began to tail the two guards as they walked down the hallway, maintain a safe distance so as to not arouse any unwanted suspicion. However, he heard their faint voices up ahead and his curiosity got the best of him. He inched closer and closer behind them as they walked and their voices became more and more clear, until he could vaguely make out what they were saying.

"...trouble, are we?" Said one of the guards. His voice showed sign of worry and his words almost shook as he spoke them.

"Of course not." The other guard replied. There was also an air of concern in his voice, even though he attempted to cover it up to show confidence to his fellow guard. "We didn't do anything wrong."

"Yeah but you know those three guards who were in charge of the slave who escaped last night?"

"Of course, I see them all the time. Lloyd sometimes comes over and helps me during farming season."

"Well he won't anymore!" The guard said in a maniacal whisper. "One was killed during the slave's getaway, but the other two were killed by the commander himself earlier today. And one was just a recruit, only eighteen years old! Eighteen years old! Imagine what he'll do to us!"

"Damn... well I won't pretend like that doesn't put me on edge..." The other guard replied, making no attempt this time to conceal his concern. "Ok but this isn't nearly as serious as that. Our prisoner still isn't going anywhere."

"But you know the commander is going to be angry as hell after yesterday. He'll probably kill us on sight just for knocking at his door!"

"Alright just relax, will you?" The guard said dismissively. "Our prisoner just broke one of his shackles, he's still got the other one chained to the wall. And besides, it not like we could have done anything to prevent it. The fault come from the poorly-made shackle. Seriously, who has ever heard of a metal shackle breaking by human hands?"

"I'm still not sure..."

"Get sure." The man replied forcefully. "And do so quickly. We're almost there."

With that, the two men began walking in silence. The continued to walk down the hallway until they reach the corner, where they rounded it and took a few more paces forward. Then they stopped suddenly, so suddenly in fact that Ranulf lost his balance in his haste to come to a stop. He regained it, however, with drawing any notice from the guards as they knocked twice on one of the doors and then opened it and disappeared behind it.

Ranulf sneaked as quickly as he could over to the door and put his ear up against it. Fortunately, he could still hear the voices.

"...Yes, yes, I am aware of your predicament." Said a new voice, presumably that of the commander. His voice seemed highly stressed and he sounded ready to lash out, but perhaps he knew better and that it wouldn't do any good, for he did not. "I will replace the chains, but I want no more problems, understand? I don't want to have to deal with this nightmare ever again."

"Thank you sir." One of the guards said, hardly concealing his joy at the news.

"Wait here, you two. I will go get your replacement now."

Ranulf heard footsteps getting closer and he quickly attempted to disappear from the scene. He ran back down the hall a bit and ducked into the first open door that he could find, silently praying to the goddesses that it was vacant. Thankfully it was, and at that moment, the commander left the other room and began walking down the hall towards where he was hidden. Ranulf leaned up against the wall next to the open door and waited as the man walked past. The hallways were not well lit and it was nighttime so Ranulf was invisible in his current position to the unaware commander. He kept walking past until he stopped in front of a door on the opposite wall of the hallway and began fiddling with his keys, trying to find the right one to unlock it.

The opportunity Ranulf was waiting for began to develop in front of him. A few minutes alone with a man in power could do wonders. It was unlikely that the man carried the key Ranulf was searching for on him, but he would likely know where it is, and it could even be in the very room he was going in now. If they kept the shackles in there, it wouldn't be farfetched to think that keys were also in there.

As soon as the man opened the door, Ranulf leaped from his hiding spot and ran to the door. The man had already closed it by the time Ranulf got over there, but he did not lock it behind him. Slowly, Ranulf turned the knob and gently opened the door. The man had his back to him, however the door's creaks and groans were enough to spin him around.

The man frowned. "Who are-?"

Ranulf abandoned all pretense and instantly leaped at the man while he still had confusion on his side. Ranulf had him on his back and a knife to his throat before he had a chance to say another word. The man's frown paled with fear as he stared at the knife that was dangerously close to ending his life.

"Alright." Ranulf said quietly, trying to sound as intimidating as possible. "There is one thing that I want, and if you give it to me, I won't take your life."

"...Consider it done." The man replied, his eyes still focused on the knife.

Ranulf jumped to his feet and showed his ankle band for the commander to see. "Get this damn thing-"

Before he even finished, the commander took advantage of the fact that Ranulf had diminished balance since he had one foot up in the air, and he kicked his other foot out from under him. Ranulf fell to the floor on his back and pain shot up his spine. In a fluent combination, the commander jumped up from his position on the ground and pulled out a concealed knife of his own. And then the tables had turned, the commander was on top on Ranulf as he lie on the ground. The commander, however, was not as hesitant as Ranulf was with his knife. The man rose the knife up and drove it down through Ranulf's right shoulder.

The pain of landing on his exposed back was nothing compared to the pain he now felt. The knife was short and it drove into a non-lethal area of his body but all the same, the pain was unlike anything he had ever experienced. And the man knew what he was doing too, as he had no intention of killing Ranulf with that attack, but merely wanted him to feel pain. Blood was flowing freely from the wound despite Ranulf's best efforts to keep pressure on it with his hands.

"You've caused a lot of trouble for me sub-human." The man hissed as he held his knife up to Ranulf's throat. "Two good men of mine you killed, and I had two more put down because of your escape. You made a very grave mistake coming back here."

Ranulf hardly understood a word that came out of the man's lips, his wound made it very hard to focus on anything else. His shoulder was throbbing with a searing pain and his very life was fluttering due to the sudden, high amount of blood loss. Throughout the ordeal, Ranulf had managed to hold on to his own knife; however, that was a fact that both Ranulf and the Commander seemed oblivious to, and there was no question who was in the position of power.

"But I am glad you did." The man continued, as he added just enough pressure to Ranulf throat with his knife to open a small cut. Ranulf could feel a small trickle of blood running down his neck and the commander withdrew his knife. "After all the time you spent in my care, we never got a chance to talk face to face, did we?"

"An honor, I am sure." Ranulf sputtered through gasps, his blood loss now causing a shortness of breath.

"More than you can possibly know." The commander replied curtly. "People line up for miles just to catch a glimpse of me! But your little stunt did a number on my reputation. Yes, there were even rumors that I would be replaced as commander of this godforsaken kingdom. But those rumors will be silenced, right now. Once the people see what happens to those who attempt to make a mockery of me, nobody will ever question my power again!"

"It is too late." Ranulf coughed, slowly regaining his cognitive abilities. "The seeds of doubt have already been planted."

The commander laughed. "And you single-handedly uprooted them before they could sprout by coming back here! I have survived a catastrophic failure by your hands, and now I will undue it."

"It is worse than that." Ranulf gasped. He slowly began to tighten his fingers around the knife's hilt in his hand.

"Worse than that?" The commander asked with a fake laugh. "The shame of a captor caught in a moment of weakness by his captive? What could possibly be worse than that?"

The pain in his body nearly vanished at that point. It was as if his body knew how important this moment was to his very life, and it wanted to get rid of all distractions. That or the adrenaline rushing through his veins in anticipation of this moment helped dull that pain. Whatever the case, Ranulf was able to fully focus his energy on raising his knife hand and driving the knife into the man's back.

The commander hollered in pain as the knife drove deep into his back. Amidst the chaos, Ranulf said calmly, "Suffering that failure twice." in response to the commander's final question, but he was unsure whether the commander even heard it. Ranulf pulled the knife away and the commander fell flat on his face next to Ranulf with a sickening crunch. He continued to wither in pain for a few more moments until his body gave out and he lay permanently still.

And then Ranulf came spiraling back down to reality. As his moment passed, the pain in his body grew fiercer than ever and his heightened senses gave out on him. Pain, suffering and loss took the place of the victory which he had supported only moments previously. But now that victory was but a distant memory; a mere, insignificant truth as his life stood on the edge of the world and stared down the very eyes of Death in the depths below. He could feel his feet inching closer to the edge as Death grinned below, eager to consume another lost soul. It took all the strength that he had just to remain in that delicate balance, but he knew that he was just prolonging the inevitable. Death was stronger than any living man, and He had already reared His ugly face in Ranulf's direction. Death is a proud, envious being; He does not allow many to evade His grasp for long.

Ranulf's vision grew blurrier by the second. His limbs felt like lead, and refused even the slightest amount of movement. His head was spinning fast enough to cause him moderate nausea despite the fact that he was not even moving at all. His shoulder exploded with unimaginable pain and his inflammed knee burned with discomfort. There were many thoughts passing through his weakening mind, but the most prominent one was him wishing for the pain to end.

The battle was mere moments from coming to a close when a noisy commotion drew his shallow attention. The two guards from earlier had walking into the room, growing weary since their commander was taking much longer than he should have been to find a new pair of chains.

One of them gasped and both of them stopped immediately in their tracks as they entered the room and took in the scene in front of them. Ranulf's hearing was severely diminished by this point but he was still able to hear and somewhat comprehend the two guards as they began to talk.

"Is that...?" One of them asked lightly.

The other nodded. "Yeah that's the one that escaped yesterday."

"And he killed our commander?"

"Seems that way. Crazy bastard for coming back here, I hope he got what he wanted."

"I'll go alert the guards-"

"No!" The guard said hastily. "No one must know of this."

"What?" The other said, genuinely surprised. "Why?"

"Come on, you know who this is as well as I do. He never deserved to be locked up here in the first place."

The man nodded after a minute of thought. "Well, what do you suppose we do then?"

"Go get a medic." The guard replied confidently. "We'll heal him up as much as we can and then send him home."

Ranulf's senses were hitting an extreme low and he could not hold it off any longer. But before he faded off into unconsciousness, he heard one of the guards say, "Any Hero deserves as much."

Ranulf awoke in a daze. His head burned like hell as he struggled to comprehend his situation. His body ached but he was very much alive, a fact that he was overjoyed to receive. He knew that he must have been asleep for a very long time because his entire body was stiff from lack of movement and his head felt dizzy from lack of use. He had somehow wound up in a soft, comfortable bed and was in a big, welcoming bedroom; a room like nothing he had seen in months. The décor was familiar but his frail mind couldn't remember from where he had seen such decorations before. He soon noticed that it wasn't only the scenery which had changed. There were a mess of bandages on top of all the wounds that he has suffered. His knee was propped up on a pillow and his shoulder was wrapped so thoroughly that it was impossible to see any skin on his upper torso since it was all covered. In fact, his entire body was wrapped in so many bandages that he almost thought that he had become a mummy.

And then Ranulf laughed for the first time in months. Not because the thought of him being a mummy was particularly funny (even though it was), but because he knew know where he was, and that, for the first time since being captured, he felt alive. And Ranulf thought back to the final scene he could remember before he passed out, back to the guards in the tower. They had followed through with their intentions. They had healed him, they had dragged him from the jaws of Death and restored him to life. His bare ankle told him that they had even remembered to remove his anti-Laguz band. And then they sent him home. Ranulf screamed his thanks, even though he knew that they couldn't hear him. But he was so grateful that he had to do it. He owed them his life.

"Ranulf?" Said a voice from beyond the only door in the bedroom. It was closed and the voice came from the other side of the door. "Are you alright?"

The door cracked open and beyond it, Ranulf saw the face that he had been yearning to see the most since his return to health. In stepped Ike, slight signs of worry on his untarnished face, and he immediately grinned when he saw Ranulf propped up and awake in the bed.

"Boyd!" He called out back behind the door. "Go get the others! Ranulf's awake!"

Immediately another face peeked into the room as Boyd decided he wanted to see the fact with his own eyes before setting off to convey the message. An equal grin to Ike's appeared on Boyd's face for a split second before he turned around and began to run away in his haste to notify everyone else, whoever they were.

"Ranulf!" Ike exclaimed as he stepped closer to the bed and offered a hand to his injured friend. "It is great to see you awake, my friend."

Ranulf slapped Ike's hand and then shook it as hard as his stiff arm would allow. "Ike, well, you know how much I like my cat-naps." He said with a grin.

Ike returned the grin at the light attempt at humor. "No doubt. So how are you feeling?"

"A little sore." Ranulf replied. "But I'm fine, nothing that won't heal. Look, Ike, I gotta say, I wouldn't have made it out of there if it wasn't for you. So thanks, you know, for looking out for me."

"What are you on about?" Ike replied with a frown.

"You saved me." Ranulf said quietly. "I wouldn't have been able to pass so easily through the grounds and the tower if it wasn't for the distraction. I'd have been a goner if it wasn't for you."

"I think you need some more rest." Ike said with a condescending smile. "You're talking no sense. I guess I was too hasty in calling the others. It's ok though, I'll just call it off and we'll come back once you feel better."

"No, no, I'm fine, I want to see everyone else." Ranulf said quietly, much more confused than he let on. "Sorry, my head's still all fuzzy but I'm alright, really."

The answer obviously passed for Ike but it just made Ranulf even more confused. Why wouldn't Ike take credit for helping him? His help was vital, after all, and the tower was virtually deserted thanks to Ike. Or was it?

And suddenly, everything clicked inside Ranulf's head. Ike was never there. Ike didn't show up when Ranulf needed him most. He didn't provide a distraction. He was just as surprised at Ranulf's return as everyone else (presumably) was. The Ike he had met on that day back in the forest was but a fragment of his imagination. He was a hallucination, perhaps due to Ranulf's extreme hunger on that day. He seemed real enough on that day but looking back, his presence did seem unlikely. Ike was not there to distract the people in that tower, either that tower is always that void of guards or there was some sort of other celebration going on that just happened to be on that day to benefit his cause.

But at the same time, Ike was there. It was in his image that Ranulf acted. This imaginary Ike had managed to do what many real Beorc would only fail miserably at; change Ranulf's mind. Ike had given Ranulf the courage he needed to reclaim his stolen identity, a risk which may seem foolish to some. But Ike knew of its importance, and so did Ranulf. In truth, it was because of Ike that Ranulf was still alive and more a Laguz than ever before, despite the fact that he was never even there in reality. But Ranulf did not dare try to thank him again just yet for fear of being thought insane.

Ranulf's head was still buzzing with activity as he attempted to completely comprehend all that happened on that day back in the woods when Boyd returned victoriously. He came in first and then in followed all of the faces that, more than a few times back in his cell, he thought he would never see again. The entirety of the Greil Mercenaries were there. Boyd had a stupid grin on his face, Oscar and Rolf as well. Shinon looked bored as usual but Gatrie seemed happy to see him, although he did have a glass of ale in his hands. Rhys almost looked relieved as he sat down in a chair, and Ranulf had to guess that Rhys had spent a lot of energy trying to restore him to health. Mist's face showed a wide smile as she whispered something to Titania and Mia, who both laughed lightly. And Soren's face showed no emotion, although Ranulf knew that he must be hiding something, for it was only for the most important of events that Soren makes his presence.

A cacophony of disconnected words and sentences flooded the room as everyone who just entered the room decided to talk all at once. The deafening mixture quickly halted as they soon realized the gratitude of welcoming an old friend back did not quite outweigh the price they had to pay in terms of pain in their ears, and Ranulf silently thanked the goddesses. However, even his ringing ears could not erase the joy on his lips and as the noise dwindled down, he rose one hand and said meekly, "Thanks everyone." even though he knew ears would beg to disagree. "Glad to be back."

Again, almost everyone opened their mouths to say something but Boyd, the boldest and the bearer of the heaviest voice, managed to get his words out first and everyone else halfheartedly gave way to him. "It just isn't the same without our cat around." Boyd chirped with his usual grin. "Good to have you back buddy."

And so, everyone said their words of welcome, this time in a much more systematic approach than before. They all said very similar words, but Ranulf could feel the personal touch on each and could not help but feel connected in a way that he would have never though imaginable, especially after experiencing almost complete disconnection while imprisoned. And he was grateful for it.

Finally, after the chatter began to die down, all eyes remain on him as they all await for him to say something. It was awkward really, for he could not think of much that he wanted to say, and all that he could think about was how tired he really was. His excitement in being back home may have masked his fatigue or perhaps he simply ignored it; but whatever the case, his eyelids took quite a bit of effort to keep open.

In the end, Ranulf settled on a question to shift the attention. "Ughh.. I feel like I haven't moved a muscle in weeks.. How long have I been out?"

"At least a week, which is how long you've been here." Ike replied. "Soren was the first to find you-"

"Somebody had left you in front of the gates to Melior seven days ago." Soren continued. "No note, nothing. A couple of the guards told me about it. Apparently, according to these guards, two cloaked figures approaching carrying you, dropped you off by the gates, and left before anybody got a chance to talk to them. Anyway, I brought you back into the castle and Rhys has been tending to you since."

Ranulf was well aware that Soren did not harbor much liking in him. Truth be told, he was not much a fan of Soren in return. However, Soren had done him a great service and Ranulf knew, pettiness aside, that he was well deserving of his respect. For a moment, the two's eyes met. Ranulf nodded silently at the young mage, an act which Soren returned. Soon, the moment passed, and Soren quietly slunk back into a corner of the room.

"You came here with some serious injuries." Titania said, in an effort to break the looming silence which had ensued. "What the hell happened to you?"

Ranulf simply grinned. "So you all really have no idea what happened, huh?"

A chorus of "No"'s rose to meet his ears along with the accompanying shakes of the head and dimwitted looks.

"Alright." Ranulf said, his grin widening further. "This is how it all went..."

It was a long story that he did not think he would be able to complete in his sleep-depraved state, but Ranulf managed to surprise even himself. He almost did not know where to start because there was so much to tell, and he often had to backtrack because he missed many details along the way. And he probably would have fallen asleep somewhere during the story too if it weren't for the comical reactions of those he was telling the story to. It was a pretty unbelievable story he had to admit, but all the same, those reactions made the whole story-telling ordeal worth it. A look of shock here, a slight "eep!" there... Once or twice, Ranulf had to stop the story just so he could catch his breath after laughing so hard. And apparently he was a good storyteller too (or, more likely, it was just a good story) for there were a couple screams of fear at certain plot points. And this, of course, just made Ranulf laugh harder.

As the story drew to a close, the room was not buzzing with energy like it was when everyone first entered. It had become quite subdued as everyone thought about what they just heard, and realized how close they were to losing him.

"You could have... But instead you...Wow..." Oscar said. He, like many other others, was speaking gibberish as he attempted to comprehend everything.

"Haha, you jumped from a building?" Gatrie said, nearly drunk by now and swaying slightly. "No way, I gotta try that."

"Don't rush yourself there, tin man." Shinon muttered under his breath, heavy sarcasm plastered in his words.

"What makes you think that I couldn't pull that off?" Gatrie snapped.

"'Cuz you're about as agile as a rock." Shinon replied. "Kinda look like one too..."

Gatrie fired something back, but they were in the back of the room and their bickering quickly got drowned out by the flurry of questions fired at Ranulf.

"You...you were enslaved?" Mist exclaimed. "What the hell were you thinking anyway, going there. You shouldn't have-"

"Yeah, yeah." Ranulf interjected with a weary wave of his hand. "It's easy to say that now, isn't it? It's not like I planned for any of this to happen."

She frowned but said no more words. She still believe herself right, Ranulf could tell. And of all the foolish risks out there for a man to take, perhaps the most foolish is to attempt to change the whims of stubborn woman.

"But why wouldn't you leave when you had the chance, when you first got away?" Titania asked.

"Especially after the wreckage you sustained to your knee." Oscar added. "Seems to me like a foolish risk."

"Look, guys, can we finish this up another time." Ranulf said with a soft sigh. "I will probably pass out again here soon if I continue to force myself to stay awake."

They all nodded and said their goodbyes but Ranulf wasn't really paying attention. He told them to leave because he needed sleep, but he knew that wasn't the real reason. A few, significant words were burning on the tip of his tongue, words that would better be said in private. So as everybody else took the bait and filed out of the room, Ranulf added, "Hey Ike, can I have a quick word?"

Ike looked just as startled as the others as he nodded and closed the door behind the last person to leave the room, leaving the two alone once more. He again walked over to the side of the bed and said, "Sure, what's up?"

"Look, Ike..." Ranulf said with a sudden loss for words. "That story... it wasn't completely accurate."

"What are you saying, Ranulf?" Ike replied with a frown.

"Well, it was accurate," Ranulf said swiftly, then paused. "But it was lacking some...details, I guess."

"Like what?"

"I wasn't delusional earlier, when I thanked you." Ranulf said uncertainly. "I truly believed you were there. That day, in the woods after I first escaped, I saw you. You were but a fragment of my imagination, I see that now, but on that day, you were there with me. And you helped me, gave me advice, told me I should keep fighting. And I did, because I thought you were right there fighting with me."

Ike nodded as he paused for a moment to take it all in. "You know, Ranulf, that if I had been there, I would have fought with you? You know that, right?"

"Yeah but that's just it, you weren't." Ranulf said with a frown. "Had I known you were not there, I doubt I would have kept fighting. What the hell is happening to me? Up until a couple hours ago, I thought I had everything figured out. I was fighting to take back my lost identity. But now...it just feels like I was fighting because you told me to."

Ike grinned slightly. "Don't get me wrong, Ranulf, I do feel honored that you think so highly of me. But that wasn't me that you took your advice from."

"It wasn't?" Ranulf asked quizzically.

"No, it was an idealized form of me." Ike replied, his condescending grin growing larger. "You chose to act in that way because you sought to act in the image of what you portray me to be. You did not take any orders from me, real or not, so don't think that way. You took your advice from what you think me to be. Do you get it yet? You took your advice from a Hero."

"What?" Ranulf stuttered as he attempted to comprehend Ike's words. "But what does that even mean?"

"It means that you weren't fighting because I told you to." Ike said in reply. "You weren't fighting to impress or to show off. You weren't fighting because you had to. Hell, you weren't even fighting because you wanted to. You kept fighting because you are a Hero." Ike patted Ranulf lightly on his good shoulder and began to take a couple steps towards the door. "You are Ranulf, and that is your identity."