Chapter 1: Dawn

The altar in the Temple of Darkness pulsed as the one it enshrined appeared. The young blonde man standing before it warmly greeted his old friend and the Centurion nodded cordially.

"Lord Emil, I am grateful you answered my call. Even in worldly time it has not been long since we last saw one another."

"It's been almost a year, and Marta and I are getting married next week. I know I told you and the others, but there was no reply and I didn't want to summon you anywhere but in your temples while things are still unstable."

"Rest assured, we will observe the ceremony even if no one but you can see us." The black creature's eyes closed for a moment as he searched for a way to come to the point. "I am also aware that one of the purposes of marriage among mortals is the bearing of children."

Emil nearly choked. He managed to collect himself but was still confused. "Well… yeah, but it's not like I've really thought that far ahead."

"In this form, my Lord, you seldom do. It is a possibility for the future, however. And I must warn against it."

"Huh?"

"A year ago you began to rewrite the order of the world. Soon mana will be impossible for anyone to use, correct?"

"Of course I know that. I did that. Where are you going with this?" Emil asked, still feeling somewhat self-conscious.

"If the former Summon Spirit of the Giant Kharlan Tree has a child—even in human form—that child could inherit its father's powers."

Emil crossed his arms, seeing nothing that should merit Tenebrae's concern. "Is that a problem?"

"Only if you intend your original plan to proceed uninterrupted. A child who has any control over the flow of mana could disrupt everything you have set into motion. It's possible it might even draw power from you. And if that child has children and those children have children—and so on—there may soon be an entire clan of mana-wielding humans the Centurions cannot restrain."

"And that might cause the seal in the Ginnungagap to come open, only held in check by Richter and the Centurions…" Emil looked down and thought quietly about this warning for some minutes. At last he said, "Are you positive this will happen?"

Tenebrae paused. "…Not entirely. There is always the possibility that a successor will have no powers whatever or that true mana-control is beyond its grasp."

"Listen, Tenebrae. I'm not ignoring or belittling you at all. I'm just thinking about Marta and what she'd want. We won't be having children for years yet, so there's no need to get worried right now."

"Understood. But be assured that when the time comes we will be on your side. No matter the consequences, you are still our master and we will obey your command."

~Sixteen years later~

Fifteen-year-old Marille Castagnier woke up slowly, the dregs of dream-images floating away as she became more and more aware of morning. Birdsong scattered everything but a piece of her dream, and that piece she would have gladly gone without. The sword glinting in the moonlight, and that malicious gleam in his eyes...

She shook off the last cobwebs of sleep and rose to wash her face. The clinic would open soon and she needed to help while her father was away. The time he spent with them had become less in the past couple years, but he was still a constant presence in their home. The girl gave a discontented sigh and hurried to get dressed for the day.

Slipping on a red knee-length skirt over her black leggings, Marille thought about all the chores she had to do. She laced up a black blouse and brushed out her hip-length hair that was a sandy-blond color inherited equally from both her parents.

Breakfast was waiting in the small dining nook, which meant her mother must already be preparing supplies for the day. Marille started cramming two slices of jam-spread toast in her mouth as she poured fresh milk into a cup and opened the side door with her foot all at the same time. She picked up the cup and the remainder of the toast, backing out the doorway and into the shop attached to the house. Sounds of sorting could be heard at the far end.

"What is it?" she asked around the food. She had to repeat herself after taking a drink in order to be understood.

Her mother looked at her with a smile. "A few nice things: fresh linens, candles, rubbing oil, a bottle of perfume, and a painted rock." The woman with sandy-colored hair returned to the box, placing the cloths and oil in one pile and everything else in another. "Would you please put this in the case?" she offered the rock to her daughter.

"Who gave it to us?" Marille wondered as she carried it (decorated with a clumsy painting of a snow-capped mountain) over to a display case that held the knick-knacks usually donated by children. It found its place between a donkey made of ribbon-wound sticks and a badly-carved hen.

"Last week Syttie's foot healed except for a scar, so I assume she made it."

"The candles are from her mother, I suppose?"

"Most likely…but the perfume I can't quite guess. We haven't helped anyone that wealthy, and I can't imagine someone from Luin giving up a bottle this expensive."

"Maybe someone we helped last year finally earned enough money to buy it. We'll never find out who if that's the case, though."

It was a game they played in the mornings, trying to guess who donated what. Many people in the country who came to the clinic couldn't spare any money since life was hard, but they occasionally left things in the box beside the front door.

When the clinic had first started, the Castagniers gave treatment free of charge, any offers of payment met with polite refusal. However, country folk tend to be stubborn as old oak roots, and since there was no way to tell who gave which of the mysterious gifts so that they could be returned, Emil and Marta were fairly forced into setting up the 'donation box'. It kept people from leaving their contributions in odd places that tended to be overlooked, hence avoiding ruin.

Marille smiled at a memory of herself at age four thinking she had to add to the box or else be kicked out of the house. For nearly two weeks the mysterious disappearance and reappearance of small items from the household was a mystery. It wasn't until Emil pulled a picture from his daughter's room out of the box that he realized what was going on and who was doing it.

Marta Castagnier tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Well, it seems like a very fancy bottle. I'll save it for now."

They finished arranging things and then her mother told Marille to go find some candlesticks in the attic.

"It's been a long time since we used them instead of lamps. Since your father's coming back tonight I think it might be nice to have a candle-light dinner."

Her daughter shrugged and went back into the main house, up the stairs, past her room, and to the door at the end of the hallway. They almost never went up there, so the sharp squeak of the hinges came as no great shock but still made her wince painfully.

Dust coated every surface, whether it was wood, cloth or metal. One good sneeze cleared her sinuses and after that Marille had no trouble coping, then she used the dim light from downstairs to navigate to the three windows along the wall. She pulled back the shades and unlatched them, pushing them outward to let in fresh air.

The moment light entered the cramped, cluttered room with its low ceiling, Marille suddenly realized she had forgotten what a gold mine lay hidden above her head. Biting her lip to keep a curious smile in check, she opened the nearest chest and slowly pulled aside the protective coverlet to see a bronze weapon polished to perfection waiting patiently in its scabbard.

Not able to restrain herself, the girl touched its cool metal and tried to imagine her father gripping it the same way. As her fingers slid around the hilt, they brushed something underneath—

"Yaiee!" she yelped, yanking her hand back.

For a moment she peered at the chest as though expecting a monster to jump out at her, but when nothing happened, she slid closer and used the coverlet like an oven mitt to move her father's sword aside. Nestled under the blade was a plain golden ring.

She carefully brushed a finger against it and this time wasn't surprised by the slight wave of energy. What was it? Maybe she'd ask her mother later.

The candlesticks were sitting on a shelf near the window and she picked them up, but as she started back to the exit, her eyes returned to the open chest. There were other things underneath the sword. It wouldn't hurt to peek at them.

The other items inside were weapons too. There were three other swords and five pairs of spinners, each one unique. Marille knew her parents had bought many weapons in the past, but these were all there were in the attic. Did that mean each one here held a story, a special part of the journey they traveled together before their marriage?

As she stood to leave, another box caught her eye. Once she had finished with it, the one next to it seemed too intriguing to pass by. Her fingers wouldn't stop itching with curiosity.

An hour later, Marta poked her head into the upper room and saw her daughter surrounded by relics from the woman's childhood. Hiding a helpless smile by pretending to be cross, she said, "You'd better clean it all up."

Marille flew up, scattering clothes, maps, and books. "Mom, you scared me! I…just found some of your old things and thought I'd look at them."

"Hmm…" She joined the girl on the floor and picked up an unrolled cloth that Marille hadn't been able to figure out. "This is the flag of the Vanguard. That over there is your father's first weapon: the Bronze Sword. He didn't use it very long since it's not a very strong weapon, but it was the first thing he defended me with. Truly defended, I mean," she said with a far-off smile. "Our first battle together was more me defending him."

"He doesn't seem like the kind of person who needs defending, Mom."

The woman laughed outright. "Before we met he was a little like a puppy that got beat up all the time. It took a while, but he started standing on his own without any help."

Marille barely remembered her father telling her he started off on his adventure whimpering and whining. She'd giggled at his impression at the time, but even now when her mother said it…she just couldn't see him acting that way. Everything about him was confident and self-assured, and even good-humored at times when they were all together.

"I guess I just don't have a vivid imagination," she shrugged, picking up a folded set of clothes.

They turned out to be a pair of dark tights, a matching spaghetti-strap shirt feathered at the bottom and top, and a white sleeveless jacket. Wait…no, there were sleeves, but they attached separately to the forearms as if to hide elbow-high gauntlets.

"Wow! Who would have worn something this crazy?"

Marta hid a grin, instead going to a set of shelves to sort through stacks of books. She finally picked one and brought it over, opening to a page full of pictures. The girl was surprised to see her parents' youthful faces from seventeen years ago…and the crazy outfit was apparently her mother's.

"Oh! Sorry, Mom…" she winced. Marille looked at the other faces in the photos and recognized some right away. "Aren't those two Lloyd and Sheena?"

"This photo was taken right after our adventure but just before they got married."

"What about Zelos? I see him but not his wife."

"He didn't know Karyn back then. You attended their wedding when you were little, don't you remember?"

"Not really. Hm. It looks like everyone was pretty young except for Mr. Regal. They're so much different now."

Marille stopped smiling as she remembered the greatest accomplishment of the people in that picture. She had been told the stories since before she could walk, but at some point during her childhood she said she was sick of hearing them all the time. The stories slowed to a trickle, and then soon were only told when company was present. They were never directly for her anymore.

She both despised it and missed it…but she didn't quite know why.

It wasn't as if she'd forgotten that the world owed her family a lot, but that fact had never been very novel to her, therefore it seemed unimportant. Yet she'd met a few townspeople who were constantly in awe of her mother and father. Didn't that kind of emotional wonder get tiring after a few days? Somehow they managed to keep it up for years.

As she continued to look at the picture Marille wondered, as she often had as a child, what sort of person Ratatosk was. Had he really separated completely from her father and lived in stasis in the Ginnungagap? Or was he there behind her father's eyes, watching her grow up? Did he love her too?

There was no way of knowing that didn't involve asking outright, and that was the last thing she wanted to do. He might answer. And then what would she say?

There was a scraping sound and she looked up to see Marta carefully pulling what appeared to be a jewelry box out of a dark corner. She brought it over and slowly opened the lid. Marille gasped and drew closer, fascinated by the glittering jewels inside.

"Why didn't you tell me we had things like this? Are they expensive?"

"Priceless is a better word for it. These are different from regular stones because they have magic written into their cores. We've already learned what we could from them, but if you're interested you can try to use them."

She recognized an amethyst, sapphire, and ruby but couldn't name the rest. Gemology was a particular field that had never caught her interest. Eagerly, Marille picked one up and waited to receive knowledge in some mysterious way.

"…Is it broken?" she wondered after several disappointing seconds.

"It takes a little more effort than that. You can hold onto them for me if you like." She looked out the window. "Come on, let's go have lunch. We've been up here all morning! I hope nobody came in the clinic while we were playing around."

Marille picked up the jewel box and smiled a little as she peeked back inside to look at their glittering facets.

Marille has earned the title I Like Sparklies
One whose keen eyes are always on the lookout for something shiny.

A/N: This was a fanfic I co-authored with Crimson Fallen Angel about three or four years ago, but she's sadly left the 'verse and I decided not to let this story go to waste in a dustbin. I had no real preference for Lloyd but she liked the Sheena pairing, so that explains that. Also, just so everyone knows, "Marille" is a combination of Marta and Emil's names and made a little more feminine.