A/N: Finally onto the second chapter... I blame school getting in the way. Before starting, I would like to extend my gratitude to YukiSkye for her guidance regarding character development and a plausible storyline! Thank you YukiSkye!

I would like you all to note that I have taken some libertieswith character backgrounds and ambitions...so hopefully they turn out ok. Again, thank you for all the follows and the two comments thus far! Also, any tips or pointers that you readers/ viewers may have would be greatly appreciated :). Please drop by a review if there is anything you'd like to comment upon that you either liked or felt could do with some improvement! I am always open to criticism.

LIVING RELICS

Chapter 1 – In memory of you

It is the scent of fresh grasses which fills the night air. Up upon the wide marble balcony, once again the small of her back faces him, the trailing ends of her blue gown, long, overflowing golden hair faintly lit by the full moon she watches.

The night air is cool, silent apart from the soft whispers of the breeze. It is about time for him to announce his presence. Landing lightly on one section of the marble railings, he calls to her – slipping his pocket watch back under the folds of his cape.

She whirls to face him, the full moon at her back— the lady with glittering blue eyes.

It is almost as if she glows silver faintly – and for a moment,

as he absorbs the scene before him,

the words he had meticulously planned out fail him.

They remain, caught in his throat, as if mere breathing would ruin his mind's image.

She is beautiful.

..

The sound of curtains being pushed back abruptly reach his ears in tandem with the sudden explosion of bright light and Phantom groans, snuggling further into a cocoon of silk white quilts.

The shadow that looms over him persists and within moments Phantom feels a tugging – a sure sign that Gaston had plans, of the rather unpleasant variety, to remove him from bed. (The last time he had been dumped unceremoniously out of bed had been entirely uncalled for!) Sniffing in irritation, he peered out of a small gap under the quilt, squinting up at the navy blue tie his butler wore with bleary, amethyst eyes. It was then the colour of cream walls on either side of his butler came into view.

"It is far too early for any sort of drivel, Gaston."

The greying man has one eyebrow raised and makes to clean his monocle before placing it back over his right eye.

"If I may – Master Phantom, it is already 2 o'clock in the afternoon," pausing, Gaston moved towards the antique chair to the right of the bed and laid out a set of freshly ironed clothing upon it. "...sleeping in any longer may prove... unfavourable consequences to your weight, Master."

Grumbling, Phantom made to turn around, pulling his quilts over his head once more.

"Surely one day can't prove to be that detrimental."

The silence that greets him is uncommon and foreboding. Peeking out of his quilts again, Phantom's eyes latch on for any signs of his butler. Gaston remains by his bedside, looking – rather... unimpressed, if he did say so himself.

"It has been five months, Sir."

Under warm quilts, Phantom grumbles softly. Had it already been almost half a year since he had left his ship? Since the fall of the Black Mage? Five months since he had done anything... remotely productive?

Well this wouldn't do, he was a man of action after all –

"Do you not believe it is perhaps... time to return to the stage?"

...although it was rather nice to just stay in bed.

"You propose an interesting suggestion, Gaston," Phantom returns lightly. "It is... perhaps time I, as the retired Master Thief, graces the world once again with my presence." With a smirk never leaving his face, Phantom sat up, allowing the steady warmth of his quilts to fall away and reveal a white long-sleeved, button-down T-shirt. "I'm sure there are some of my adoring fans missing ME by now."

"Your long absence may have caused them to forget your heroics and exploits altogether," Gaston replies in kind, "My, master, they may have even been taken over by the charm of one of the other heroes. That is, if they existed in the first place."

Appearing aghast, Phantom shot Gaston a look. "Oh, you are just nasty today Gaston."

Chuckling lightly and with one eyebrow raised, Gaston repeats an age old saying:

"Isn't that what you pay me for, master?"

With his hand raised to his chin in thought, Phantom ponders on their previous conversation before it was derailed by Gaston's brand of teasing. "I will become a merchant and the occasional traveller. That was what I had planned all those months back after the Black Mage's defeat, if I do say so myself."

Swinging his legs over the side of the king-sized bed, Phantom pulls himself up with the help of the bed's intricately designed wooden frame of curls, accepting the slippers provided by his butler and makes his way across the smooth marble over to the antique chair of red leather and mahogany where a fresh set of clothes lay.

"A merchant, sir?"

In the background, Gaston begins pulling the quilt up with a flourish and placing it back down on the king-sized bed, smoothing out any wrinkles before moving onto puffing up the soft pillows.

"Yes, dealing with the sale of exquisite jewellery now in fashion," Phantom responds, pulling on a new pair of trousers and discarding his old t-shirt for his standard wear. "As the greatest Master Thief in history to grace Maple World, I believe I have...an eye for things."

"Do you plan on starting today then, Sir?"

Pausing on the second to top golden button of his suit, Phantom turns back to Gaston. It was an unusual question coming from Gaston: 'Do you plan on starting today then, Sir?' rather than the more common 'When do you plan on starting, sir?' It was far too... specific.

"Might there be a problem, dear Gaston?" he asks and, with eyes turning to the door, issues a soft 'come in' to the knocker.

With that, Marriane, one of his three maids appears in the open doorway, greets him with the Lolita maid clothing he had custom-made, settles a tea tray on the small coffee table in front of the antique chair and leaves.

"Oh no, Master Phantom," Gaston denies, "whatever gave you such an impression?"

The slight but sure grin on Gaston's face is unbecoming and Phantom frowns wondering what kind of scheme his faithful, albeit cunning, butler had concocted.

Ten minutes later, he blinks, discarded from his ship – of all things – on the wooden docks that lead to Ellinia; the rush of the cool, salty wind from the sea and an aged wooden bridge creaking beneath his feet – the town of magicians and fae before him.

It is a bright day. Cupping one gloved hand over his forehead, Phantom squinted up at the vast, azure skies, floating clouds and the obvious absence of the Lumiere's shadow. Flicking his frontal fringe away from amethyst eyes, he glared up at the sun in mild irritation, the lack of a raven masked hat making itself well-known.

In the distance, the horn of a departing ship echoes.

'Very well, Gaston, I'll get the supplies - but don't think this is over.'

Flipping his pocket watch open – he could never get used to strapping leather against one of his wrists – he stared at the moving hands briefly, took note of the time and let the pocket watch fall back into the folds of his cape. 2:45pm, Gaston probably wouldn't allow him back onto his own ship until a sufficient amount of time had passed...

Pivoting on his heels and with an elegant swish of his gold and white cape, Phantom sashayed towards the end of the port and doorway emblazoned by a steel and wooden plaque covered by overgrown vines. ' SIXTOPIA' blinked back at him in shiny golden letters.

..

The freckles of light dancing upon the green forest floor are strangely nostalgic of a time long passed, Phantom thinks, glancing up and around at the winding ancient trees that cover up the sky and render Ellinia's territory in a continuous state between light and dark during day. It is the light shade which keeps the forest cool, and, crossing a suspension bridge made from the woody remains of Dark Stumps and rope of twisted Slime's Bubbles, it is a drastic change from the pounding sun on the docks nearby.

The forest is quiet, accompanied by the soft pattering of Green Mushrooms' feet and fluttering of nearby rogue fairies. Energy balls – a novice magician – and the sound of a grunting mushroom grow muffled in the closing distance. Feet crunching lightly on the forest floor's undergrowth, Phantom allows his mind to wander in the pleasant coolness of one of Ellinia's deep forests, legs tracing out a more familiar path.

The trees are smaller now, towering over the two of them, reaching and expanding outwards towards the sky – but not quite. The sun pierces through such meagre attempts of the overgrowth at blocking out its light, hitting the floor in a scattering of golden splendour.

This is where the forest begins.

Feet shuffling, they continue through weeds, herbs, grasses, mosses and over protruding tree roots at a leisurely pace.

The man in red robes leads, pushing aside rustling branches as they move onwards through the natural labyrinth created in the forest and he follows. Follows the man in red with tousled brown hair as they make their way into the dark and cool interior of one of the many ancient but-not-quite trees. It is like entering a tunnel, Phantom thinks and a soft dripping echoes nearby. Sunrise dew droops at the edge of overgrown leaves that bend with the added weight. And down they go, down the winding steps made of sturdy, but overgrown wet leaves, cautious of their slippery nature in boots.

The exit is not seen for a while as the two of them make their way down, small, but steady globes of magic emitted from the jewelled tips of a staff and cane respectively as they mark out their route.

Stilling, the man in red pushes aside a drooping leaf with a gloved hand to reveal a new path of twisted, overgrown vines connecting the tree they were in to another outside. And they pace, slowly.

It is then he bites his lip, brushing away a stray, golden strand from his view before continuing on. He has questions, many questions for the man in red who requested travel via the Lumiere because Alfrien was too easy to spot in the skies – far more easy to spot than the grand stealth ship and now leads the way. The man in red before him is strangely quiet, determined and unsmiling as they make their way across the makeshift path of interconnected vines high above the forest floor. How they had moved down from inside to above outside bemuses him but he keeps his silence because the man in red will tell him eventually.

The man in red fixes ocean blue eyes on him briefly – pensive, almost, but it is strange – for the man in red is never pensive, never allows such emotion to break through and appear visible for longer than a fraction of a second. But it remains before melting away as the man turns back around again and they continue walking.

"The forests nearby the town of fae are special," the man in red begins by way of explanation, dulcet tones perhaps a given due to the man's many speeches to the dwindling general public. "This entire environment... the area itself is imbued with a strong, ancient form of magic."

Pausing, the man rubs one gloved hand against the uneven bark of an overgrown tree at the end of the path they had climbed. Hand placed flat against it, the man turns to meet him at eye-level. "Time and Dimensional magic."

And suddenly, talk of 'Seal Stones' a 'Last resort' an 'Incomplete method' a 'Sealing' and an 'Unknown, temperamental magic' whispers into his ears briefly before vanishing abruptly as he blinks. And Phantom realises, knows why this sudden breakthrough is a leap for the researcher, the scholar and his friend.

Turning back to the tree, the man mutters a soft incarnation under his breath, his left hand on the tree lighting up with an orangey aura along with the tip of his staff in his right. Beneath his hand, the smell of burning wood becomes prominent along with the crackling and falling pieces of charred bark.

Pulling his hand way, the man motions to Phantom to step closer and have a look. Phantom does. A swirling mass of green, hints of what appears to be teleportational magic but not quite – gleams up at him through the tiny charred opening in the tree.

The man in red has a light smile on his face now, watching his new subject of study – a swirling mass of green with keen, ocean blue eyes; the first of which Phantom has seen in three months and Phantom is glad, glad that such a small discovery can bring joy back to a constantly creased brow and dark, circle bags beneath blue eyes.

"Forgive me, Phantom," the man starts, a small, arguably sheepish smile thrown in his direction. "I did not mean to contact you on such a short notice."

Pulling the tip of his raven's mask further down his face, he scoffs lightly, motioning to the area surrounding them. "Freud, Freud, Freud, you kept me in suspense just for this?"

In the ensuing silence, the man is quiet, slightly offended perhaps or even perplexed as Phantom allows a small smirk to grace his lips.

"Really, my friend, I was expecting something much more... extravagant."

It is now the man's turn to scoff lightly, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Only you are that particular about fanciful and extravagant entrances, exploits and exits, Phantom. I prefer the more... simple but profound exploits."

Motioning to the swirling mass of green with one hand, the man in red continues: "Isn't this a fine achievement?"

His legs have moved him to a small clearing in the forest before he realises it. Shaking his head lightly from his sudden daze, Phantom made his way into the clearing, the sun's rays, weaker now further in the glowing afternoon, setting his white and golden cloak alight.

Before him, a monument lies. It is of a young man with unkempt hair, chiselled out of refined Golem Stones, smiling down softly at a book held within his left hand. His right clasps a staff loosely, a small orb and open wings designing its mantle, the long sleeves of his robes pooling downwards. Below it, on square stone supporting the sculpture laid a metallic plaque.

In memory of the Establisher of Common Magic and Founder of the first Spirit Pact

Dragon Master, Freud

May his legacy live on

Tipping his head in acknowledgement, Phantom pulls out a tarot card and materialises a bundle of small blue-and-purple forget-me-nots and yellow roses, kneels, places it by the step of the monument, stands and takes a step back.

Settling himself beneath the trunk of a nearby tree, Phantom sighed.

"It has been a long time, my dear friend."

Staring up at the purpling skies and the setting sun and Phantom muses, all thoughts of retrieving the supplies for Gaston and the Lumiere absent from his mind.

"Tell me, Freud," he begins. "Have we gotten any closer to the world Aria envisioned?" Gesturing to the forest around them, he continued: "or the one you saw?"

The statue continues to observe the pages of what appears to be a well-loved book. Silent. Smiling. And suddenly Phantom can't help but feel slightly sheepish.

"I know I've only been slouching in bed for the last five months but – even the greatest Master Thief in the history of Maple World needs a rest sometimes!"

Silence greets him. But it is as if the soft smile on the statue's face surely... without a doubt, has morphed into a small smirk. Freud had always known that his silence had bugged Phantom the most.

Grumbling softly under his breath, Phantom began again. "Yes, I know you believe that is just an excuse," imagining a man in red humming his agreement before him. "Honestly, you're as bad as Gaston sometimes – always ready to point out my faults."

"But..."

But what?

"You were always ready to save us all, you and Alfrien, even from ourselves."

Chapter 1 – In memory of you END

Not sure how many people read A/N's but if you haven't please do!