This is a very dark night in Rune-midgard. It is because the dark effect of the dark lord. The darkness covers every light on earth. Avoid the earth from every single light from the sky. We cannot see the moon even if this is the night of full moon.

The only light that guides me along the way is from my happy heart and from someone beside me, my Husband, the one of the great assassin cross, Ares Laurexius. He holds my arm along the way. Make me feel warm and safe. I know he'll keep me safe for sure.

Why am I happy? You must be asking about that… because I've call him my husband since yesterday. After our long journey, raising our ability to life in this world, where there's war between human and monsters, we finally get enough money to marry.

Don't get it wrong. I've love Ares since the day he helps me in the old city of Payon, or what people call it now, Payon Dungeon. An assassin helps an acolyte, just like a dream… before I met him, all I know about assassins and high-level jobs are full of shadows and I thought that they are arrogant.

Now, I've become High Priest. And this is too, the result of his patience. He always accompanies me when I'm practicing. I have no use when we're facing monsters except undead. And he told me to learn as a support type priest.

And become his supporter till the end of our life…

Now we're on the way to the city of Lighthalzen. We've heard about the city. As far as I know, the military fraction was building a new stronghold. Almost all of the highest level in every job comes there to fulfill their duty as human race protectors, and also to gain benefits. The Kingdom of Rune-Migard has promised grand prizes for every guild that can eliminate the dark lord.

I shouldn't have any worry at all about the Lighthalzen. Maybe that place now is the safest place on earth. It is promising to protect all of the world protectors behind its wall.

"Meg…" Ares said softly. "Is there something wrong?"

I looked at his enchanted green eyes. I can't say anything that can break his peace heart.

"Nothing is wrong…" I said to him.

"You're lying…" he said. "You want to lie to me in the first night for us as husband and wife?"

"No… I never mean to do something like that…!" I said "It's just… I have no reason to worry about this journey, but…"

"You have a bad feeling, don't you?" Ares said. He's smiling to me and soon he hugs me with his strong arms. "I know you… as I know myself… Now I feel that you're very tired…let's us rest here." He said.

"No…I'm not…" I try to ask him to continue our journey, but he's right… Until he said that, I don't feel anything, except that cold-feeling on my neck. Now I feel my body is so heavy that I don't have any energy anymore.

Ares hold my waist and he use his skill: Hiding.

Both of us now are invisible from monsters. Ares has made a safe place for rest tonight.

"Now, sleep…" he said to me. He rubs my head. Let me lean on his shoulder. I've forgotten all my worries. All that I feel now are safe and warm… and how much I love him.

We continue our journey to Lighthalzen. I'm blushed… this morning is the first time he… Well, it is not important thing to tell… umm… Ah! We've arrived!

"Ares Laurexius! We've waiting for you!" the Old knight welcomes my husband and I.

"And you must be Meg Silvergaze! Or I should call you Mrs. Laurexius?"

"Just call me Meg, Thank you Sir Leon…" I said to the old knight.

"We're just married yesterday… don't push her too much about this… in time of the dark like this we should keep aware…" Ares said.

Sir Leon laughed. He takes us to the hall. There are so many of high level jobs in here. Paladins, Lord Knights, High priests, Professors, High Wizards, Sharpshooters, White Smiths, even Gypsies…

"Now this is our force to fight against dark lord…" Sir Leon said. "This is our strongest force… now after you come, we shall discussing our strategy and soon begin to attack Glast Heim."

"Sure, yes sir…" Ares said.

"Under your command…" I said.

That was a very long meeting in the hall. Now my husband and I tired just because the discussion.

He has no more energy to talk to me that he's tired. I rub his head… his blonde hair feel so soft.

"…Meg…" he said with eyes closed "Try to sleep… you'll need your energy tomorrow…"

I'm smiling and kiss him on his forehead. Soon I'm sleeping beside him.

And that's when the nightmare starts…

The dark lord is clever enough to know what the Kingdom's plan by penetrates possessed high level job into the castle. And soon he knows about the new stronghold in Lighthalzen…

He's starting his plans to eliminate human and make the earth as his kingdom…

This night…

All that I know is Ares woke me up. "Meg! They're attacking!"

"Umm… what… attack?" I thought I'm still dreaming.

Ares shakes my body and I know that the scream I heard wasn't a dream. Ares is ready and he told me to be ready to.

We go out of our room and found many of our friends are hurt badly… I use my ability to heal them as much as I can do.

Ares found that the other has died. It's very horrible scenery. Bloods and corpse are everywhere.

"The dark lord himself comes… the rest are fighting him in the hall…" we heard from one that hurt.

We ran to the hall and found almost all of the forces fight the dark lord without any precious wound to him…

"It's… dark material…" I said to Ares "I'll try to eliminate him by my power!"

"That's too dangerous! Keep supporting me!" Ares jump to join with the other fight the dark lord.

"Increase agility… bless… Assumptio…Gloria…" I support him with all my useful skills.

Ares and the other now are in winning position. But it doesn't last long…

Soon I feel something different… cold air.

I'm healing everyone that hurts when the strange fog appear. First I think it's not a trouble.

But I was wrong…the fog covering all my friends' dead bodies…

And… soon become the dark lord armies…

"They're possessed!" I startled. One of them attacked me. I manage to avoid but the second times, I'm unlucky. I'm hurt on my shoulder to my back. Ares saw that and he drank his deadly poison… something that we'll never be able to drink it and see the world for a second after. It's only for assassin cross and promising instant dead to everyone except assassin cross that drink it.

Enchant deadly poison…!

Ares has beaten all of the possessed armies around me. He soon come to me and hugs me. I feel cold at my back and there's hot liquid flowing through my back and his hand.

"Damn it…" He said.

"I'm okay Ares… don't worry…" I said.

"Don't lie to me! How many times must I tell you!"

"It's true… it feels just a little cold… but I'm okay… I'll heal my wounds and your wounds…" I said as I cast Healing power.

Ares wounds healed… but the wound at my back was not fully healed.

"I'll never leave your side anymore!" He said.

"…Ares…" I said, afraid…

"What the…?" Ares turn around.

All of our friends died… Sir Leon…all of them…

Now Lighthalzen become a graveyard…

No… they're back to life… possessed…

We're surrounded by possessed army… and the dark lord…

He laughs… I want to cry… he kills everyone and laugh… he's a demon… the worst…

"Ares…" I said.

"Don't worry…" Ares said. "I'm with you…"

"Ares… I love you… I wish that we'll have child…" I said as I'm starting to cry.

"Me too…" He said. Smiling at me…"Let's promise to meet in heaven…" he hugs me tighter "I'm sorry I can't give you more happiness…"

Ares stand up. He drank his deadly poison again and then starts to eliminate the possessed army one by one. His speed is faster than his normal speed. Soon he was successful in reducing the possessed armies.

Assassins never show his/her feelings in battle… but I know Ares is sad when he's eliminating them one by one… most of them is his best friend. He has no choice. Kill or be killed…

Ares didn't stop until he got bad wounds… I heal him in times but his stamina decreasing…

Ares falls right in front of me. I try to heal his wounds… but it is too much.

"At least I have to protect my wife with all my might…" he said. He's bleeding. I know he's not in condition that can fight anymore…

"You're so reckless…! You know they're high level jobs…they're not your opponents alone!"

"I'm glad you worry about me…" he's smiling. "Please don't cry… I hate to see you're crying…"

"I've always worried about you!" I rub his head. Now is my job to protect him… the dark lord comes closer and closer…

The last thing I have to do… keep our promise to meet in heaven…

I look at his handsome face… at his enchanted green eyes once more…

"Basilica…" I said as I hold gems and holy water in my hand.

Soon we're protected by wall of light. The possessed army can't get closer to us… Basilica protected us with holy power…

But I know this skill will not affect the dark lord… but at least I know my husband and I will not end as possessed army too…

The dark lord walks through the wall of light… I hug Ares tighter.

"In Heaven…" both of us smile… we looked each other…

Novice PoV

"… After the biggest lost in Lighthalzen… the Kingdom's assist armies found everyone there become possessed armies and they're forced to beat their old friend's dead bodies…"

"There are only two bodies that not become possessed… covering with light, protected by Basilica…"

"The two of them are Ares and Meg Laurexius…"

The youngest novice with brown hair holds her breath. "Meg must be loves Ares very much… I hope they're rest in peace…" she said as she glanced at the blonde haired novice that stands beside her.

"I want to be assassin… not because Ares… but…" the blonde haired boy complained.

"Oh, come on, Ares is handsome… you know?" the brown haired girl said.

"Yes! That's funny… my mother is sick of him too! She named me Ares… wish that I could be assassin…"

The brown haired girl is smiling.

"Maybe you'll make another romance legend behind the dark ages…"

"Stop talking like that, Megumi! I'll go practicing!"

"Ah! Wait!"

end

Bloody Roar

The first time he saw her was in the Prontera Inn. It would be more accurate to say that he saw her when he was in the inn, and she was one of the many faceless passerby in the town of Prontera.

And he was drawn like a moth to the flame, to the invisible veil of power that surrounded her.

He returned to the same room, same day every week. Without fail, before the clock in the room strikes twelve, he would see the assassin walking through the crowd below, people who unconsciously move aside to give her a path.

She radiated power, the power that gave her the rank sought by many assassins; the cross that marked her difference from any stray assassins in the streets.

Power that made him trails her path every week. He saw how she paid little attention to those around her, how she ignored those that she does not fear. She slows and observes those that move with confidence not unlike hers; size them up, list them down in her mind. Sometimes she slows, and he shrinks back, slips into the alleys, for he knew that she could sense his presence. She would not find him, that he was sure. A cross she might be, but neither is he a powerless man.

Within a month he found the way to interrupt her weekly stroll in the Prontera Market. Her trips through the town were brisk and straight forward; no detours, seldom stopping. Once, twice he had seen her looking at an arsenal of weapons from a vendor. Other times, she stopped at the auction house when there was a katar or two on display. A lover of exotic blades, a lady of lethal weapons.

And he, he is the master of all weapons. To get his hands on this most mystical of katars had not required much effort. A bait it would be; a bait for the Valkyrie.

For he had got her name, from those who dared only to whisper it.

"Lenneth." They said to each other when she is out of sight. "Lenneth. The Valkyrie of war."

He sat, leant against the side of his cart near the corner of Prontera, waiting for her to appear at the gate from which she normally leaves. As expected, she paid him barely a glance as she walked towards the gate, boots making no sound on the concrete path.

"Lenneth... Valkyrie."

She showed no sign of hearing him, but he caught the way her eyes flicked towards him for just a second. Lazily, he drew the pair of blood colored blades from his cart. She stopped.

"May I interest you... with this?" A victory is it, for now he had her attention.

She regarded him coldly. "You had been tailing my trail for an entire month. What is it that you want, that I have?"

He stood up and brushed off invisible dust. "No hurries, my dear. A trade, if you would, to be discussed over a cup of coffee. This is no common weapon we are dealing with."

"State your trade, and we shall have a deal if it is a fair price. There is no need for a lengthy discussion."

"What if I were to give it for free?"

She paused, and turned away from him. "It is not wise to pull pranks on me."

"I am not asking for a trade on cash terms. You have something else that I want."

The look she gave him was more than suspicious. Seems like the time to cut the chase.

"A show of faith. My name is Vince." Not many people dared to reveal their names to crosses; it is not a very healthy thing to do.

Recognition flashed in her eyes. She had heard of him. "Whitesmith Vince."

He nodded. "So, would you grace me with your company, my lady?"

"A show of faith." Her smile was calculating. "If you would accompany me to the Morrocian Inn."

Ah. The town where assassins strive. A test of his sincerity.

Not that it matters to him. One hand on his cart, the other holding his heavy Tomahawk, he turned to the south entrance of Prontera town. "This way, my lady."

They arrived at the desert town before sundown, the whitesmith leading the way as he effortlessly pulled his cart behind him. The rowdy crowd in the local tavern sneaked suspicious glances when he entered the local tavern, his zeny pouch inevitably catching the eyes of several patrons. However, when she stepped in behind him, all eyes were averted from him immediately.

The jovial barkeep beckoned to them with a grin, and the assassin cross took the table nearest to him. "The usual, Miss Lenneth?"

She nodded, and the man turned to Vince. "Anything for you, sir?"

He put down an order for a Tropical Sograts, waving the inquisitive barkeep away. They stared quietly as the man walked to the other end of the tavern to break up a fight, ensuring that he is out of earshot.

"You have an interesting barkeep there."

"It works well. The panther keeps the street rats in line. It keeps them off the backs of the Guilds."

The 'panther' came back with their orders, having successfully stopped the conflict in the corner. Still grinning, the man turned away, but not before the whitesmith saw him slipping a slip of parchment to the cross.

"So, smith. What is your game?"

He stared at his drink, pondering. What is his game? He was curious; curious enough to throw in a special request to find the weapon that would ensnare her. Curious for a chance to talk to her, to have her attention.

What is his game?

"You." He looked at the girl, and there were no fear or hesitation in his eyes. Beside his chair, his free hand shifted to grip on the Tomahawk. Her eyes were unreadable. Patrons sitting close to their table stopped their activities as they turned, almost as if they felt the thick cloud of tension between the two.

"You have guts, and apparently, stupidity." When she finally broke the silence, there was just this tiny wave of relief that ran through him. Despite the confident front, he knew he would be fighting for his life if she had pulled her weapon then. "Explain yourself, and we shall see about that fight."

"A guild, Lenneth." He paused. "You have always been fighting under a leader, and so have I. It is time to leave that shadow." The emperium that he removed from his cart shone faintly as he placed it on the table. "Join me. You are not just a normal fighter. Lead a guild with me."

She looked at the golden stone. "Give me a good reason to leave my people."

"Your people no long wishes to fight, and I say the same for mine. The guilds are shifting, and the ones moving into power are neither mine nor yours. Those that you follow are no longer interested in these wars."

"There are others I can join."

"This guild will start with you and fall with you."

She stared at him. He finished his drink.

"My fighting ability is not the reason you want me in this guild."

"It is one of the many reasons." He could tell that she is gravitating somewhere between 'pissed off' and 'totally confused'.

"And the rest of the reasons?"

"That will be mine to know."

The assassin cross played with the piece of parchment that the barkeep had given her before, folding and unfolding. Suddenly, she turned to the counter, and waved the man over. He took the parchment from her with a surprised look, then gave a shrug and went back to his job.

Vince watched the retreating form of the barkeep, and allowed himself a smile.

An assassin cross moved close behind a paladin, the latter currently shouting orders to his guildmembers.

"Kamp."

The heavily armored man turned at the familiar voice. The cross leading the enemy guild uncloaked from the shadows of the wall. "Stop. I'm not here to fight." He backed into the darkness. "There is a new guild. You should be wary."

"A new guild would pose less threat to mine that to yours."

The assassin gave him a glare. "Vince is leading the guild, you should know what it means. Best be getting all your men to be cautious; he has a powerful ally."

"An ally?"

"Lenneth. Assassin cross Lenneth." The man disappeared back under his cloak of shadows. "Good luck. You will need it as much as I do."

end

A Minstrel and His Story

After a few days of traveling with the boat, the minstrel finally stepped his foot on the designated land. Riobard opened his map and check his location one more time before folding the map and put it back to his bag. "Whew, been such a long time since the last time I put a foot here."

There were new bridges and roads from the map he had bought in Louyang. Maybe they tried to find the safest way to travel with less monsters, the man thought to himself and picked his Mandolin up.

The journey to Prontera was faster than what Riobard had expected. Not to mention that there were less monsters too that there were nothing to disturb his travel. The Minstrel walked pass the gate and was welcomed with people bustling about. The side of the street were packed with merchants and their vends.

Never thought it would be this busy. Carefully, Riobard made his way to the center of the town where the monument was. At least the center part would be less crowded and he could rest his legs there for a while before he had to search for a vacant room in a hotel.

Riobard looked around for a bit before stepping toward the bench that was under the shade. The Minstrel put his mandolin carefully on the bench then flopped himself down. The long walk and hiking had taken tool on his feet now as both of his legs felt sore.

He noticed one of the vendor nearby sell some juices and potions. Riobard started to check each pockets his outfit had and his zeny pouch. All he could get was only hundred and twenty zeny. He had used his zeny on his traveling around the world to find new songs, poems and stories. He sighed and put the zeny back into the pouch. "This is so humiliating." Riobard scold himself for spending a bit too much on the expenses.

The Minstrel knew he had to eat or drink something soon before he collapsed out of hunger or dehydration. Which would be really, really embarrassing for him. Riobard stared at his mandolin beside him and sighed again. He still want to rest his legs a bit longer, but he need to work for some zeny. "If only zeny could grow on trees…"

Unwillingly, Riobard started to get ready to perform. He changed his head gear to his Black Valkyrie Helm[1] that match his long dark brown hair. And he reached for the Goblin Mask[2] as well. Riobard didn't know why he choose to wear the scary mask, but he liked the reaction from the audience whenever he performed with the mask on.

The Minstrel pushed himself up and picked the instrument up. He checked the strings of the mandolin and tried it up. As he felt the tune was right, Riobard started to play a song that stole people's attention. He stopped playing as he tilted his head aside a bit to make sure all of them looked at the mask he was wearing.

The reaction was vary. Some of the novices gasped and hid behind their seniors. Some others just stared with funny look on their faces. Some took a step back in surprise. Riobard started to bow deeply, "Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls." He said with a carefree attitude.

"I have been into all over the worlds, from down deep dungeon to up sky-high city. I have seen the cowardice person fleet the battle to the bravest of them all sacrifice themselves to safe their loved ones. I have witnessed how legends were born."

He picked the strings as he stopped talking. Riobard was pleased as he could see that he managed to get mostly all the people there. The Minstrel stopped playing and bowed again. "What may I tell you all? Anything that queried for your interest? A story about the unexpected dragon slayer, about a lover who got separated by force, or about a fool who got lucky?"

The audience started to whisper and murmured to each other. Riobard waited quietly until a person from the crowd said, "Tell us about the lover." The Minstrel chuckled and bowed slightly at them. "Ah, about the unfortunate lover who got separated… Even destiny and fate turned their backs on them. Poor souls." The crowd were listening to the Minstrel and waited for him to continue his story.

Riobard played his instrument to compose a random soft music, not too loud because he'll use the melody while telling the story. "Once upon a time, there are a young girl and a young boy, normal youths that are oblivious about the thing called 'love'. They are carefree, fun, playful and everyday is filled with joy. Yet destiny and her cruel games called life have something else in mind for the two youths."

"Years go passing by, without anyone noticing the youths have changed into two fine adults. Both decided to enter the Knighthood, sworn to the oath to protect Rune Midgard from any ill omens. They meet under circumstances and fell in love at first sight. Even if the two of them sworn the same oath, yet the path they choose are different. The man choose to prepare for the holy war as the woman choose to enter the chivalry. Like a path with two edges that destined to the same faith."

"One day, a dreadful news come to their peaceful town. Few of their comrades that are send to investigate a cursed place called Glast Heim are found death and few of them are missing without a trace." Riobard suddenly twang his mandolin a bit harder to make the crowd gasped in surprise and gulped soundlessly. He smiled behind the mask and continued the soft melody again.

"The chivalry have done everything they can. The Church don't want to lose anymore of their messenger of God. Everything is left in the dark and everyone can fell the remorse. Until the two lover offer themselves, volunteered to bring the light of hope for those who have lost someone important in Glast Heim. Their families tried to stop them from going yet the lover refuse to change their mind. That night before the day they have to depart to Glast Heim, the lover made a vow to each other. 'We'll always be together. In life and death.' with the moon and stars as their witnesses."

"Then comes the day for them to leave their hometown to serve their purpose for the people they have sworn to protect. There are a lot of disturbance in their journey toward the cursed land. Yet with the two of them works together back to back, they have managed to overcome every danger and or trouble. Until finally they have reached the gate that's separating them from the mystery of the missing people in Glast Heim. Collecting all of their courage, the lover pushed the gate open and venture deeper into the ruins as the gate behind them closed by itself. Cutting them out from the outside world."

"As they get deeper and deeper to the heart of the cursed land, they notice that something is really, really wrong. Inside the cursed ruins, they had encounter thousands army of the undead. The smell of the rotten flesh is too much for the woman that she has taken a few steps back from the undead. Not to mention those Knights who find their way out from the void Abyss. They are brutal and they are able to control the undead to do their bid."

"The lover's spiritual power and health are drained faster that they expected as they continue to force their way through Glast Heim. Those undead won't let them rest or recharge their energy. Her sword start to feel heavier as her hands are numb and tired from swinging the sword around too much. His spear feel so dull and the shield can't protect both of them anymore."

"As they were resting, one of the Abysmal underlings the Khalitzburg found the two of them. The monster limping slightly as its dragging the blood-rusted sword on the ground, creating an eerie screeching noise. The man grip his spear and thrust it with all his might toward the monster. Yet because his stamina is getting low, he missed the Khalitzburg's vital point and made it stumbles back but its still standing. Before he gives the monster another blow, the woman suddenly stopped him."

"Confused, the man stared at his lover and sees the fear on her expression. The monster started to move again closer and closer to him. Their clashing weapons echoed through the ruins, attracting more monster nearby. Though he noticed it isn't about the monster that the woman is afraid for, but who the monster is. He gasped and pushed the Khalitzburg away with his strength, his breathing become so raspy. Behind the bloodied and broken armor is none but one of his missing comrade."

"Their body seems to be decayed years ago though they are only been missing for few days. Disbelief and doubt have filled their minds and hearts. They haven't realized that it was their doom to know who are the monsters that they have killed from the moment they entered the cursed ruins. They can't raise their weapons to their own comrades. The monsters continue to attack them and cornered them against the wall. The lover think that its their end, yet the man had another thought for the woman he loves for all of his life."

"He sacrifices himself for her and purifies his fallen comrades with the power of Grand Cross, which drained his own life to the bring of death." Everyone was quiet as Riobard still playing the gentle tune in silence as he seemed to be in a deep thought too.

"Few days later, the Church have sent a few party search for the lover in Glast Heim. Though as they reached the place, they can only find the woman. The man have disappeared without a trace, just like the other unfortunate Knighthood. The woman is in hysterical state for a few months, refusing to accept that her lover have disappeared inside Glast Heim. It's said that the woman up until now still going to the cursed ruins hope to find her lover."

"Rumour had that the woman managed to find her lover turned into a monster already. But it was different kind of monster and stronger too. His despair, hatred, agony and sorrow had changed him into something ungodly[3]. Out of grief and the will to put her lover out of his misery, she killed him with tears streaming down her cheeks."

With the last pick of the strings, the Minstrel stopped talking. The melody had stopped too yet people who were listening still stayed quiet. Softly, Riobard said 'the end' with another deep bow.

Riobard had moved to another bench to sit down and counted all the zeny he got from re-telling the story. "Alright, more than five hundred-thousands. Good, now at least I can rent a room and rest." He put all the zeny into the pouch carefully and as he looked up, his heart almost failing when he noticed a girl was standing right in front of him.

"Holy shi-!" Riobard closed his mouth quickly before the swear word left his mouth. "Seriously, you could have said something to let me know you're there." The Minstrel said as he clutched his shirt, trying to calm his self down.

He stared at the quiet girl. She was wearing a really worn out and old armor for Lord Knight. Parts of the chest armor was cracked and rusted. Why didn't she changed or repair her armory? Did she came to me asking for help? Riobard waited for the girl to say what business she had with him.

Riobard couldn't really see her face as her long bangs covered her face almost to the bridge of her nose. Her long-green moss hair swayed slightly at the gentle breeze. Her lips tugged into a small smile. "That was quite a story you're telling, Minstrel." Her voice sound croaked as if she hadn't use her vocal for such a long time.

"Well, thank you." Riobard felt a bit disturbed by the girl's presence. But he couldn't really pointed his finger on what made him felt that way. "Are you interested on another story, girl? If you are, I still got a few more-"

"She loves him too much. Instead of killing him, she killed her own families and friends. No one would ever come between them. And no one are allowed to separate them… She killed all those who tried to slay her or her lover. Slowly she had turned herself into one of the monster she hated before and soon her morale had left her as she started to hate everything but her man."

Riobard's jaw was slack as he listened to her. "W-what, that's nonsense." The Minstrel said quickly but it got to him as he stared at the ruined armory and how old it was. "…Who the hell are you?" Before he could get his answer, a gust of wind blew at them. Riobard covered his face with his hand and squinted as he tried to keep his eyes fixated on the girl.

The wind blew her bangs off her face and what he saw shook him for dear life. Yet she was already gone when Riobard blinked. He stood there with cold sweat running down his face. The girl's eyes were lifeless, like the eyes of the death…

"Awcrap, this kind of thing is really bad for my heart." Riobard said to himself and flopped again on the bench. His legs couldn't stopped shaking and he was sure he would fall on his face if he tried to walk right now.

end

To begin with, my brother Adair fell in love eleven times on the road from Morroc to Geffen three years ago, and so it was no surprise, at me at least, when he announced at supper one night that we wanted my parents' permission to marry.

After all, marriage seemed the be the inevitable destination of love, and I marvelled that he had not married long before.

My father took the news without expression, his doorway-wide shoulders hunched over that table as he chewed the stewed Picky meat slowly and deliberately, but my mother flushed deeply, paled, looked at my father in horror and back at Adair in disbelief. My other brothers and sisters immediately set up a chorus of hoots and whistles, like a throng of Pecopecos on the attack.

"But you're only eighteen," my mother protested, automatically passing the bowl of mashed potatoes to Eleanor. Her appetite shamed my mother but was a thing of pride to my father, who believed that an enormous quantity of food was as important to children as an enormous quantity of beer was to men.

"Well, if I'm old enough to work, I'm old enough to get married," Adair answered, addressing my mother defiantly while his eyes were sliding apprehensively to me father. Adair seldom looked uncertain. Hundreds of times I had seen him spear a monster with finesse and send it reeling into the afterlife. He had set up a small shop with a Merchant friend, selling baubles and trinkets for ladies. And somehow he always found time for love.

"That's what makes the world go round, Jerry-boy," he'd tell me as I watched him combing his hair prior to a date.

I was much younger than Adair and had my private thoughts about love foolish and unnecessarily troublesome, involving going to terrible events and wearing wedding suits on a casual day. Yet, I had to admit that if Adair pursued love so faithfully, certainly there must be some good in it.

At the supper table that night, however, I did not envy him and I suddenly realised that he had gradually changed in the past few months. He had been vague about the nature of his dates and he had been alternately happy and morose. Sometimes, he sat on the trailer's steps in the evening, staring at nothing in particular and would dismiss me with a curt shake of his head when I asked him if he wanted to train with me or set up targets for my Novice training.

"How much are you making at the shop?" my father asked, reaching for another slice of bread.

"Fifty zeny an hour and I'm due for a raise next month," Adair answered.

"How much have you saved?"

"Two hundred thousand zeny. And she's got almost as much. She's a nomad like us and she doesn't mind questing to help us get settled."

"She… she," my mother said, exasperated. "Who is this she?"

"Yes, which one?" Eleanor asked. Her appetite apparently has been dealt a fatal blow by the announcement, because she had put down her fork although her plate was still half full. "Is it Donna or Trixie or Yvonne or Jeanne?"

My mother silenced her with a look.

"I thought you said there was safety in numbers, Ma," Howard offered. Howard was the smart one, a Mage with a memory so acute that he got on your nerves.

"Enough," my father commanded like a PvP master counting down. He turned to Adair. "My son, you're no longer a boy. You've been working more than a year since becoming a Knight. You've found out what it means to earn a living. And I admit that a man needs love and marriage and children."

My mother snorted with disgust. She always claimed my father was incurably romantic, and she dreaded wedding receptions and anniversary parties at Prontera Church, because he always got sentimental and maudlin and drank too much beer and insisted on proposing innumerable toasts to the glories of love or singing old Comodian ballads about people dying of broken hearts.

"Would it be too much to tell us the name of this girl who is coming into the family?" my mother asked.

Adair scratched his head and tugged at his sleeve: a bad sign.

"Vianne Stormrage," he said at last.

"Vianne?" Eleanor asked. "What kind of a name is that?"

"Stormrage… Stormrage," my mother mused.

"An Assassin," Howard exclaimed, his voice like a door slamming shut.

My mother made the sign of the cross, and in the awesome silence that followed we turned out eyes to my father. His head was bowed and his huge shoulders sagged in defeat. His knuckles were white where his hands gripped the table. I too clutched the table, tensing myself for the explosion to come. But when my father raised his head at last, there was no violence in his manner, although his voice filled me with fear because it was terrible in its quietness.

"All right," he said wearily. "You don't want a good Priestess, fine. Maybe you don't like the smell of holy water. And a Dancer, fine, maybe you don't like singing. And an Alchemist, that, too, is all right if you don't like herbs." Fury gathered in his eyes. "But an Assassin? Are you crazy, my boy? Is that what we sent you to a good Swordsman's school for? Is this what you were a Knight for? To marry an Assasin?"

"I love her," Adair said, leaping to his feet. "This isn't the peaceful days anymore, Pa. This is the age of the War of Emperium, 4539…"

"Adair, Adair," my mother whispered, a pleading in her voice.

"Hey, Adair," Howard asked, bright an interested. "What kind of Assasin?"

"What do you mean – what kind?" my father roared.

"Agility," Adair said. "She bases on Agility and quests; she doesn't steal things for money. She's a good girl. She believes in God…"

Excitement danced in my veins. I had never known an Assassin. My family had been attacked too many times by them, and my father always pulled me away when he saw one. Suddenly, my excitement fled by a sudden sense that the world was crumbling at my feet. My loyalty moved toward my father and mother, although I still ached for Adair, who stood at the table like some lonely hero who finds his deeds stricken fro the rolls of honour.

My father suddenly relaxed. He shrugged and smiled. "Well, why should we get excited?" he asked my mother. "This week an Assassin and next week maybe a… a Succubus. And the week after that..."

"Next week and next year and forever, it will still be Vianne," Adair cried. "This isn't puppy love, Pa. I've been going out with her for seven months."

For Adair, of course, this was some kind of record.

"Seven months?" my father asked, astounded. You've been going out with an Assassin for seven months behind my back?"

"Not behind your back," Adair said. "Have I ever brought any girl home here? No, Because I wanted to wait until I met the right one. And Vianne's the right one…"

"Well, don't plan on bringing her here," my father said. "I don't want her name mentioned again under this roof." He banged his fist on the table and a dish fell to the floor. My mother jumped up in alarm, and Adair turned on his heel and left the house, slamming the door behind him.

So began what my brother Howard described as the Six-month War of the Proudmoore family, and the war was usually fought at the supper table. My father was not a man for stiff rules, but he has always insisted that the entire family be home for supper, to break bread together at least once a day. Even Adair in his rebellion dared not break that law.

Otherwise, however, he became a silent and brooding figure, spending little time at home. He worked all day in his shop and went off to meet Vianne every evening. He didn't whistle off-key any more as he dressed for his dates, and he acted as though we all had become invisible to him. Howard said that a kind of doom hung over our house. He was melodramatic and often used words like doom and holocaust, and yet I had to admit that Adair's troubles had cast a shadow over us all.

Supper time because exercises in agony.

"You know Tanin Hawkwing, the merchant?" My father would ask my mother with a quiet air of victory, "Well, he was delivering food at a fancy Assassin wedding last Saturday. He said that it was disgusting. Nobody sand any songs, nobody danced and nobody even got drunk. They stood around and ate sandwiches made with crackers. People who don't sing and dance at a wedding: they don't have hearts…"

One day I burst into the house after finally becoming a Swordsman and found the trailer unusually quiet, all the kids gone off somewhere, and my father at work. I heard voices inside and was about to enter when I halted in my tracks, held back by the intimate quality of the voices.

"I know, I know, Adair," my mother was saying. "I agree that she's a nice girl. Polite and charming. But going behind your fathers' back to meet her is one thing – inviting her here, without warning him, Is another…"

"But don't you see, Ma," Adair said, "that he thinks all Assassins are some kind of monsters because he's never really known one? I'll bet he's never spoken more than five minutes with an Assassin. You met Vianne. You say she's a fine girl. I think Pa will, too, if he has the chance to meet her…"

"I still get the shivers wondering what he'll say when he learns that I've met her, that we sat down in a café and had coffee…"

"Please, Ma," Adair pleaded. "His bark is worse than his bite. You always said he's a sentimental man.

"I don't know, Adair, I don't know," she said, her voice tender and troubled.

I drew back in horror, appalled at the conspiracy, my mothers' treachery, her disloyalty to my father. I ran up the street to meet him; and as I saw him stalking home from the days' training, I became aware for the first time of my father as a person, not simply a big man who either roared with anger or boomed with laughter, who consumed incredible amounts of beer and whose word was law.

Knowing that he could be betrayed gave him a sudden, human countenance. I studied the deep lines on his face, the network of wrinkles near his eyes that had always fascinated me because of their resemblance to spider webs, and I realized that they were the result of long hard days at work and the problems of bringing up the family.

And instead of bursting out my information, I remained silent and carried his huge sword in its sheath, shy with him suddenly and warm and itchy all over my body.

The following Sunday afternoon, I cried out in astonishment as I glanced out the trailers' spotless window and saw Adair coming along the sidewalk with a girl. He held her elbow tenderly, as if she were fragile and precious beyond price. He didn't look where he was going but gazed at her raptly. I had to admit that I did not blame him for staring at her: she was slender and blond and lovely, dressed in the standard Assassins' uniform and making it beautiful, and its colorlessness contrasted with the soft tones of her delicate face.

The wind rose suddenly and she lifted her hand to hold her fluttering scarves down, the gesture filled with grace. I myself would have gladly run a mile to chase her scarf for her if the wind had chanced to blow it off.

My mother stood beside me, her cheeks flushed, her eyes wide with concern. She looked like the guilty party who is unmasked in the last chapter of the serials the Bards and Dancers put on in the streets on lazy Saturday afternoons.

"God help us," she whispered breathlessly. Straightening her shoulders and sighing, she called to my father: "Eldin, company's coming up the street…"

My father, who was on his bed reading a letter, groaned loudly. "Company? Who comes to disturb a man after dinner on a Sunday?" My father pretended that he only wanted privacy on weekends or in the evenings, but when company did arrive he played the part of a perfect host to the hilt, keeping the beer flowing and my mother busy serving food. People usually found it hard to leave because my father always insisted on one more drink, one more joke, one more argument.

My mother greeted Adair and Vianne at the tree our trailer was tethered to as my father moved to the dining table, yawning and straightening his guild crest. Adair's entrance caught him with his mouth wide open. My father jerked his collar, his mouth closed in surprise and he stood rigidly in the small room.

"This is Vianne Stormrage" Adair announced, his hand still at her elbow but protectively now. "Vianne, this is my father and mother." I had to suppress a giggle at his formality. "And my brother Jerry," he added, pointing to me. "The other kids are out somewhere, playing around."

Vianne smiled hesitantly and I saw her hand tremble at her side. Adair guided her to a chair. I wondered whether her cheeks gave her pain: that smile seemed to be hurting her. And no wonder, I thought, as I looked at my father, who stood like a figure of wrath in the doorway.

My mother seemed to be everywhere at once, adjusting the curtain, flicking an invisible speck of dust from the end table, touching Adair's shoulder and pushing me from the trailer. I heard the big leather chair creak menacingly as my father lowered himself into it.

Shamelessly, I stood near the door, straining to catch every sound and nuance of the conversation. My mother and Adair carried on a strange wandering discussion about the weather, talking at length of tumbling leaves and the great amount of rain that had fallen during the week and the way nights were becoming chilly. I was impatient for the foolish conversation to end. Finally, a huge silence settled in the room.

Sylvos Windrunner, an Archer my age, called to me from the outside and I remembered in dismay that we were supposed to go to see a play by one of his brothers. I didn't answer, hoping he would go away.

After a while, my father cleared his throat. "I was reading a letter from my guild," he said. "Do you follow the clan wars?"

I peeked into the room and saw Vianne sitting stiffly beside Adair. "I work solo," she said.

"Solo," my father said, as if that were the most ridiculous thing to do in the world. But I had seen him going questing alone dozens of times.

"She's very good," Adair offered. "She collects hats and sells them to merchants."

Silence again except for Sylvos' voice, sounding impatient and shrill now.

"Your father. Where does he work?" my father asked.

"In the Pronteran Bank," she answered.

"A banker?" my father inquired, giving the word the same contempt that he used for beggars.

"He's a teller," she amended.

"But he works in the bank," my father declared, with a kind of triumph.

"Yes," she answered, her voice strained.

Sylvos was setting up such a howl outside that I went to the road to meet him. Actually, I was somewhat relieved to end my eavesdropping because I shared the pain and embarrassment of Vianne Stormrage. Sylvos was worried that we would be late for the play, but my mind was still in the trailer.

"All right," I told him. "Let's go. But wait just one minute more…" I reentered the field where our trailer was parked and stood by the doorway again.

"God's Hand is the greatest guild the world ever had," my father was saying. "The greatest guild in the world."

"Kinshisareta is a great guild, too," Vianne answered, a hint of defiance in her voice.

I couldn't bear to listen any further and was happy to join Sylvos on the road. I was in a hurry to get to the theater, or anyplace that was far away from the inquisition going on in the parlor.

When I arrived home at supper time, my father was still in the leather chair, exuding an air of victory. His shoes were off and his feet extended luxuriously out on the floor. My mother busied herself at the stove: there was always something cooking there, morning, noon and night that needed her attention.

"And did you see her sitting there so prim and proper?" my father was asking. "What kind of girl is that? I tell you, it's like Tanin Hawkwing said. Assassins have no juices. Did you see the girl smile? No. Did she laugh? No. Any anyone who thinks that Kinshisareta is greater than God's Hand…" He shook his head in disbelief.

"Eldin… Eldin," my mother said. "She's a nice girl, a fine girl, and she loves your son. Does it matter what she thinks of God's Hand or Kinshisareta? Does it matter what her job is?" A bit of anger crept into her voice. "And how could you act so rude to a guest in your house?"

"But don't you see?" he asked. "I wanted to show Adair that the girl is not for him, that she would not fit into his life, into our life. She quests alone. She doesn't follow the clan wars. She probably steals hats and sells them, and it's plain to see she supports an enemy guild…"

"But she's hardly old enough to join a guild," my mother said.

"Well, maybe we'll see a change in Adair now," my father said, settling back, wriggling his feet, "Now that I've" – he groped for the word and pinned it down exultantly – "exposed her."

My father's exposure of Vianne Stormrage did not affect Adair's love for her. In fact, he announced a few nights later that he was planning to give her an engagement ring for Christmas. My father closed his eyes when he heard the news and his lips moved in that I hoped was a silent prayer but feared was an oath too terrible for us to hear.

I looked at my father and Adair and my mother and did some praying of my own. I felt allegiance to my father whose oldest son was defying him, who was ready to turn his back on his family and who was no longer interested in such things as training for the sake of a girl.

Yet, I also sympathized with Adair because I agreed that Vianne was more beautiful than any girl in Geffen. And my heart also had room for my mother, torn between her husband and her son. When I saw the sorrow in her face as she looked at one and then the other, I easily forgave her for going behind my fathers' back to help Adair.

And yet.. yet, I was tired of the situation because it seemed to me that there were more important things in the world than love, and everytime I brought up one of these things – for instance, the frustrating December weather that had not turned cold enough for sliding – someone would tell me to go out and play or Howard would accuse me of having no appreciation of drama. I wanted to tell him that if drama was something that made your chest ache with strangeness, then I wanted no part of it.

We were all involved in a large drama, however, when the voice of the announcer on my fathers' communicator one Sunday afternoon stunned us with the news that my fathers' guild castle was under attack.

My father jumped fro, his chair in alarm and excitement, indignant to learn that someone had dared challenge the Gods' Hand guild.

We learned more about our guild castle and the cast number of different clans who wanted it in the weeks to come, and my father spent many hours at the communicator, shaking his head at the news, perpetually angry. He seemed to take it as a personal insult that his guild members were being wounded and dying on the other side of Midgard.

One supper time when my father, after the usual prayer of grace, added another prayer for the good Gods' Hand boys who were in battle, Adair said: "A good many of those boys are Assassins…"

My father paused, deep in thought. "And a good many more are Knights and other job classes, too," he answered after a while, the belligerency gone fro, his voice.

"Well, here's one Knight you can add to the roll. I'm going to enlist."

A sharp cry came from my mother, but somehow I only had eyes for my father. For the first time in months, he looked at Adair directly.

"No," my father protested. "You're just a boy…"

"I'm from the guild," Adair said.

"I thought you were going to get married in the spring," Howard interjected.

"Vianne and I talked it over," Adair said. "How can we get married when there's a war going on? She said she's willing to wait…" He looked at my father. "Pa, I want your permission to enlist. Me and Vianne, that's something else. I know you don't approve of us, but I'll tell you this much: as soon as I come back, we're going to be married."

"But why volunteer?" my father asked. "There are a lot of others who can go."

His question surprised me because it was obvious that Adair's enlistment would solve the problem of his romance. I pondered again the mysterious ways of grown-ups. For myself, I had no fear for Adair's safety. In my eyes, he has been born to become a hero, whether in training or in real battle, and I was sure of his indestructibility.

"Every man has his duty to perform," Adair said, and his words were quiet and somehow sad and gallant.

Incredibly, tears formed in the corners of my fathers' eyes. At first, I thought he must be sick because I had never seen him cry before. He sniffed and blew his nose and cleared his throat.

"Hey, Pa," Howard said. "You're crying."

"Who's crying?" my father bellowed, his wet eyes finding my mother, who sat stunned and grief-stricken across from him, her face cruelly bleak as if winter had blown across her features. "It's the onions in the soup," my father said. "These Geffenese onions always being tears to a man's eyes…"

The clock in the grand Geffen Tower in the square stroked the hour of nine and we listened to its echoes in the crisp morning air. The hired Priest who would teleport everyone to the castle fascinated me, his olive drab uniform giving an air of emergency to the gathering of people on the sidewalk. The fellows who were leaving for Prontera were not yet in full guild uniform, but already there was a hint of the military in their bearing. A Crusader in uniform with the guild crest paced the sidewalk impatiently near the bus.

My father and I stood with Adair in front of the armor store. My mother had remained at home, having kissed Adair goodbye without allowing tears to fall, and unwilling to take the chance of breaking down as he got into the portal. The other children were in school, but my father had allowed me to see Adair off.

"At least it'll be warm in Prontera," Adair said, his voice unnaturally thin and high-pitched, and his eyes searched the square, looking for Vianne. I saw her first, the blond hair vivid in the drabness of the morning, She walked swiftly toward us, opening her arms to Adair as she approached, but she arrested the gesture when she saw my father. They had not met since that terrible Sunday in the trailer.

My father shifted on one foot and then another, Finally, he looked down at me. "Come, Jerry, let's go find that Priest and ask him when the portal is opening…"

"Thanks, Pa," Adair said.

As we approached the Priest, the Crusader placed a silver whistle in his mouth and blew it fiercely. He nodded to the Priest, then called out: "Okay, you guys, fall in. On the double. On the double…" He would have made a fine cheerleader.

My father and I returned to Adair and Vianne, who were holding hands, huddled together as if the day had suddenly turned too cold to bear.

"It's time," my father said, touching Adair's shoulder.

Adair drew back his shoulders and shook hands with my father. He punched me lightly on the arm. He turned to Vianne and kissed her gently on the cheek and then gathered her in his arms, holding her closely. He pulled away from her abruptly and looked at us all for a long moment, his face pale and his chin trembling a little. And then he walked quickly toward the priest and was lost in the crowd of fellows who were leaving with him.

Vianne turned away from us. She kept her face averted as the square gradually filled, as the Crusader took one final look around, as the Priest began to cast his spell. Adair waved to us just before he stpped into the circle, but there was little comfort in that last glimpse.

Then the Priest looked around and stepped into the portal, which disappeared. The people began to disperse, and my father, Vianne and I seemed to be alone as if we were standing on a small invisible island there in the square. She still did not look at us, although I could see the reflection of her face in a store window. Clutching her coat the neck, she left us abruptly, walking away without warning.

My father watched her go, shrugging his shoulders.

"Pa," I said, "you were wrong."

"You do you mean, wrong?" he asked gruffly, pulling his handkerchief out of his pocket.

"You said Assassins have no heart, that they don't laugh or cry. Vianne was crying. I saw her face and she was crying just like you cried the other night at supper."

He looked at her retreating figure. He blew his nose feebly and the sound was not as magnificent as usual, barely audible above the merchant that was gathered, trying to boost sales. He lifted his arms and let them drop at his sides.

"There's no fool like an old fool," he said, mysteriously. Then: "Come, Jerry, let's go find her before she's too far away…"

I had to run to keep pace with him as we threaded our way through the crowd. We finally caught up with her near the fountain on the other side of the square. My father touched her arm, and suddenly she was folded in his embrace, and never before had I seen people look so happy while they were crying

end