Her back was to him. Elizabeth froze, hands in the air. His voice was different from Howzer's, less rough and more refined. She didn't dare to turn around.

The metallic clank of armor sounded, one clunk after another, until she could nearly feel the man breathing down her neck. Perhaps that was just her imagination, but to her it seemed very, very real.

He leaned in toward her face from her left. She hardly dared to glance from her side eye, but she snuck a look. The first thing she saw… the color pink?

"Who might you be?" Cold blue eyes met hers; their eyes were nearly identical in color, but he was the wolf and she was the rabbit: he hulking, broad and frightening, and she the frightened.

"What is your purpose here?" He asked again, and Elizabeth felt herself gulp down saliva. "I… I…" she squeaked.

"Hey!" Another voice sounded, this one familiar to her ears. "What are you doing here?"

Howzer bounded up to them, and in the light bursting through the wooden shafts Elizabeth could see the dark blond of his hair and his piercing purple gaze penetrating through her chest, as if searching for a sin she'd committed.

"You know her, Howzer?" The pink-haired man asked, certainly surprised. "Yeah, just the 'unwanted property' of one of the Lieutenant's clients," Howzer sneered.

That sneer. It had just begun to get on her nerves. Elizabeth would definitely choose to head-butt him if it were only the two of them here, but since there were two frighteningly massive men right in front of her, she didn't want to take any chances.

Her arms were beginning to hurt. Cut the chit-chat already!

The words 'unwanted property' rung in her ears. How dare he say that when she clearly asked them to take her with them? Was he referring to how her father and sisters denied relations to her? They did it out of love at that time. They wanted her to be the only one who got away.

Right?

How could she possibly doubt them? They had been so good to her that day on her birthday, not to mention every single day of her life since she was placed on their doorstep. The look Margaret had on her porcelain face just before she was dragged away with the rest of her family was enough to reaffirm that fact.

She had been zoning out for so long that her heart had leapt into her mouth when a shout as loud as thunder shot straight through her ears. "Y…Yes?"

"I said, who are you?" Howzer ruffed, and this time she looked him squarely in the eye, a fiery spirit blazing in her heart at the thought these people could lead her to her family hiding just around the corner.

"It's Elizabeth. Elizabeth… Liones," She had hesitated only the slightest when a sting on her cheek startled her. She brought her hand up to her cheek and felt the red-hot imprint of a palm emblazon itself onto it. Had he just… slapped her?

"Do you think you have any right to look on the same level as a general?" Howzer barked ferociously, making her whimper like a puppy. "And no one told you to put your hands down!"

Her hands shot up in the air immediately as if remote-controlled. And at that moment, Elizabeth realized she had every right to fear this man and the other standing next to him with the steel-hard blue gaze.

"Follow General Gilthunder here," Howzer snarled. He grinned demonically. "He'll take you… to your family."

The pink haired man, now known as Gilthunder, seized her arm and pulled her away. Her skin pricked with the cold armor pressing against it. They left the room full of crates after entering through another door and disappearing behind it, leaving Howzer alone in the room.

His purple gaze dropped. His rough hands brought themselves up to his face as he held it with despair.

"I just slapped a girl," he whispered, then yelled. "I just slapped a GIRL!"

What had his father taught him when he was little? To be a gentleman to girls so they thought you polite and got attracted to you? No kidding, the Elizabeth girl was one hell of a beauty, but nonetheless, hitting a girl as fragile as that went against his principles.

Howzer shut his eyes. He couldn't do anything about it anyway. If he ever went against the Lieutenant's orders, he knew what was coming to him. And so did Baltra Liones. He should have known better than to defy the Lieutenant's orders.

The girl Elizabeth's cries in the night echoed back in his ears. The house had gone up in flames, and her mud-caked face was streaked with tears. He immediately realized this was a flashback; perhaps it was just his imagination, but to him it seemed very, very real.

Howzer jerked his head back up again. Her fiery sapphire gaze had burned a hole in him. Those fiery eyes, that determination… he being such a coward, he had brought up a hand to bring her down.

Was he, a general of the almighty Lieutenant Wrath, scared to challenge a dirty young girl with fiery eyes?

He shook out of his worrisome thoughts and looked toward the door Gilthunder had just brought her through. Her silver hair was the only thing different about her, but otherwise she looked the exact image of someone from a very long time ago.

"I wonder what the Lieutenant has to say about this," Howzer murmured under his breath, and trooped back to headquarters to report.

…

Elizabeth grunted as she was thrown to the floor roughly. In the dim light, Gilthunder's steely face stared back at her.

"You'll stay in here until further notice," he said, and the metallic sound of a key turning in a lock diminished her hopes of escaping this cell.

At least she knew someone was here with her.

"Father?" Her voice echoed in the dark cell, and she put her hand out in front of her to feel for anything before her. "Are you there?"

Her hand touched something warm: a palm. And suddenly her father's forlorn face came into light.

"Eli... zabeth?" was all he could mumble. Then he scooped her up in his giant arms, and the floodgates opened. They just sat there on the cold hard ground, crying for a good few minutes when Elizabeth pulled away, her watery blue eyes gazing at her father.

"Are you hurt anywhere?" There was a small cut on her father's forehead, probably from falling down the other night. Other than that, bruises marked his wrinkled skin, but his dark brown gaze looked only glad to see her.

"Elizabeth… why are you here?" At this, Elizabeth bowed her head. She had come here to rescue him… but it seemed now that there was no hope left. "I guess… I just wanted to see you again. Your goodbye… wasn't satisfactory to me."

Tears welled in Baltra's eyes. "You little brat… when will you learn to be thankful for what you have?" He sniffed into Elizabeth's hair. "But I am truly thankful… that you are here. Thank you."

His breathing was getting shallow, and Elizabeth held onto him tightly. "Are you okay, Father?" Baltra reassured her and, placing his hands onto her shoulders, looked into her eyes.

"Elizabeth. I've never told you about what happened that night, nor seventeen years ago, but you have all the right to know. And maybe, if you see your sisters someday in the future… please tell them this, from me, as well." Elizabeth sniffed, and waited patiently for her father to recollect his thoughts.

Baltra took a deep breath. "Seventeen years ago, when Margaret was barely five and Veronica was still a toddler, their mother contracted a sudden illness. I was desperate and anxious, and at the moment no doctor could cure her. The only way was through a high paying course of treatment she would have to endure for weeks. I, at the time, did not have enough to afford for their mother's treatment, so I enquired the help of an old friend. Only, I hadn't suspected what he had become."

"I got the money I needed and treated Caroline. But it all failed…" Baltra choked back a sob at this, "… and she couldn't be saved. By the time she was gone I was nearly broke. So I…"

"I… got more from him. For raising Margaret and Veronica. And on one fated day, you… suddenly you appeared…" And Elizabeth now knew how much trouble, pain and suffering she had caused her poor father. She was the reason he was in this cell now.

"Father…" She hung her head in despair. "Forgive me… I didn't know how much hardship I put you through…"

"The past stays the past," said her father, and gave her shoulders a small squeeze. "Anyway, I was supposed to pay him back within the span of five years—but I kept extending it. I extended it until even my youngest has turned seventeen, and all my daughters are ready to go out to work, so I would then be able to work hard myself to pay the debt I had made for myself to my old friend. But I cannot blame his patience for running out. It has been too long… way too long…"

And then her father wept. Elizabeth held his shaking shoulders and wondered, what can I do for my father?

"Father, when you and I get out of here, I promise…" She held up her pinky finger to her father's face. "I promise to get back at the person who put you through so much suffering."

Instead of hooking his finger with hers, Baltra recoiled and shook his head like a wounded dog. "He is dangerous, Elizabeth, too much for even you and me together. He is unlike any tyrant, more vicious and cruel than I thought he would be. Whatever you do, Elizabeth, do not get involved with him in any matter. I beg of you, do not put yourself in harm's way."

Her father's earnest plea made her want to cry, but just as Elizabeth opened her mouth to reply, her father's eyes widened. Shaking, he slowly reached into Elizabeth's side pocket and pulled out the three flutes.

"What… are these?" His face contorted to a mixture of horror and relief, and he hugged the three flutes to his chest like it was his last string of sanity. "Elizabeth, I want you to take these." He pushed them into her palms, and she drew back, startled. "What are these, Father?"

Baltra took her hands, placed the flutes into her palms and closed her fingers around them. "I made these during the beginning of spring this year. Here, the moon's for Margaret, the sun's for Veronica, and yours is the star." He placed a hand on her tousled head. "You're a shining star, Elizabeth; in the dark, you always lead us back to the light."

Elizabeth's eyes glimmered. Before she could reply, the metallic clank of armor sounded near the stairs leading to their cell. Frantically she pocketed the flutes and clutched her father tightly.

Howzer appeared this time, holding a torch to the cell so that their faces were made known in the light. The cruel snarl on his face made Elizabeth want to recoil.

"Elizabeth 'Liones'"— and at this he mocked her by raising his free hand and mimicking air quotes—"you hold no business here in our quarters. Take everything you have now and get out of here."

Baltra held his daughter's hands and stared at her face. It was dirty, and greasy, but she would always be his beloved adopted daughter no matter how much dirt masked her features.

"Father, forgive me." Elizabeth repeated, and then turned to the guard. "Take him out instead."

Baltra's heart stopped. Howzer squinted. "What?"

"I'll take my father's place," Elizabeth narrowed her eyebrows in turn. "as hostage for your Lieutenant."

Howzer's lips curled disgustingly. "Too late for watching your words now, isn't it?"

Now the real fun starts... hope you guys liked this one!

-Mint-chan.