"Seeeeeed!" it called to him.

"Who's there?!" He demanded.

"Seeeeeed, don't you know who I am boy?"

The second time the voice sounded familiar, "Father?" He called out.

"Seed, my sweet son. How small you've become," stated another voice, this time it was a vaguely unknown woman, but at the same time familiar.

"Mother?" He asked. "Why are you here?"

"See this? He is confused, he feels frightened. What a failure of a son he is, he's an adult yet he still yearns for the comfort of his pathetic parents. How totally and utterly stupid. We should have abandoned him when he was born. Or killed him, it all would have been the same."

"I agree, what shall we do with him? I think we should do to him what we planned on long ago and put him out of his misery. I'm sure the infamous Highland kingdom can do without his pathetic skills. General of their whole army? Hah! They must really be hurting." The voice continued.

"Enough..." Seed stated softly.

"What was that you said, foolish boy?"

"I said enough!" Seed yelled.

The two shadowy figures began to laugh in unison.

Seed lunged forward as his gloved hands formed fists.

Suddenly a white light flashed and Seed felt as if he had been hit square in his chest, his body flew back and the shadowy figures continued their laughter.

"See the youthful rage in his eyes? Foolish weakness of the young. He may be a general but if he doesn't learn to control himself he will always be just a kid" said his mother.

The other shadowy figure nodded slightly. "We shall have to teach him a lesson. Maybe he will grow up."

The first one followed suit and the two black figures began to merge into one single figure.

Seed tried to stand, but slipped on a wet piece of driftwood. Suddenly as the two forms completely merged, twin beams of light broke through the thick trees overhead and bathed both Seed and the figure. Seed looked up from the swampy forest floor and immediately recognized the figure whom held a broadsword across his chest.

"You looked surprised, Seed. Ironic how I should not only haunt you in real life, but your dreams as well, hmm?"

Seed reached for his scabbard only to find it missing. He quickly looked up as Duncan lunged at him. He barely had time to jump away from the blade as the tip cut him horizontally across his chest. He felt fatigued by the sudden loss of blood, a lot more then he should have. His legs started to give away as he fell to the murky ground. It felt like a force was holding him there, his mind sending the impulses, but his body betraying him.

Duncan started to laugh hysterically. "You are pathetic, Seed, my boy. Your parents are right; Highland really must be desperate."

Seed jerked his head from left to right desperately trying to find a weapon of some kind. Suddenly, as if his prayer had been answered, a small broadsword appeared next to him. Without much time to think, he reached for it.

Duncan, upon seeing his actions, leapt forward with his own sword and started directing un-controlled blows towards Seed; who started rolling in each direction on the ground avoiding every blow.

Seed looked up as Duncan made another blow, this one more sloppy then the rest and caught him off balance. He used this opportunity to leg-sweep Duncan. While he was trying to regain his balance, Seed made his way for the broadsword. Duncan saw what he was attempting and scrambled, trying to intervene, but his attempts were futile. Seed had already got a hold of it.

Duncan scrambled to his feet, weaponless and with a look of fear in his eyes as he glanced at the sword held tightly in Seed's grip. "Now, now Seed... You wouldn't want to do anything.. A-Anything you would r-regret, now would you?"

"Why would I regret this Duncan? You have been a real thorn in my side for the longest time. And now I shall end it." Seed grinned as he placed the tip of the sword to Duncan's chest and impaled him. Duncan looked up at Seed as his life slowly drifted farther away. His blood ran out onto the grass floor.

Duncan's body slipped off of the sword and fell to the ground.

Seed stood up from his crouched position. Suddenly, a cold wind hit him and he threw the stained broadsword to the ground. As the wind lifted Seed felt relief, but only for a moment. He looked down at his bare arms which were suddenly stained red. His thick red blood began erupting out of every pore like volcanoes. His chest started to spasm and he could feel his lungs filling up with liquid, slowly drowning him. His head started to feel light as he toppled over and landed on the harsh ground. The forested floor became drenched as Seed's lungs filled even more with his bodily liquids. He desperately tried to gasp for air, but couldn't...

The young general's eyes shot open and quickly sat up, glancing around the room while keeping his hand on his bare chest.

That same dream again.

Seed ran his hand over his sweat covered face. He looked around again and realized that dawn had not yet cracked. He lay back down on his pillow and tried to sleep. A few moments passed and Seed became restless. After minutes of listening to his own silent thoughts, his eyes glanced around his quarters desperately trying to find something to pass the time. His eyes stopped as they found the wine cabinet.

If they know what's good for them, they won't bother me for another three years.

The large man walked heavily through the stone hallways of the massive heart of Highland. His olive green cape swung limply behind him as his wide, tired gait took him to his private sanctuary. It wasn't that General Solon Jhee was physically tired, but emotionally...maybe even spiritually tired. What an impact that battle had taken on him...

Solon scrubbed a heavily armored hand through his hair, not caring when the chinks in the fingers caught his graying hair and yanked at it painfully. He looked down at his hand as he walked, then brought his hand to his face. The darkness brought the images yet again...that of innocent blood spilled over the countryside...

With a snarl, he took his hand away and banished those dark images. A general of an army shouldn't feel this way. He'd seen countless people dead on the battlefield. Why would the dead in a town be any different?

Because they weren't soldiers, they weren't meant to fight... His mind supplied him with the answer to his question.

That didn't alter the fact that he had to remain strong, so his men didn't lose faith in him or their cause. If not for his men, then for his sanity.

The door to his private quarters now stood before him. A sigh escaping his lips, Solon opened the door and closed it tight behind him. He didn't want to be disturbed...perhaps forever.

A few moments later found Solon completely devoid of his heavy armor, the thick metal plates in a pile on a chair. He sat in the other chair in the room, fingers of one hand gently massaging his temples, and a cup of chilled strawberry wine in the other. He closed his eyes and started to drift to a dreamless sleep...one that had escaped him for nearly two days now...

Persistent rapping on the heavy wooden door pulled Solon kicking and screaming from the silent bliss. With an angry growl, he hurled the half-full cup across the room and bellowed, "WHAT?!"

After the cup bounced off the door, it meekly opened, revealing a set of green eyes framed in black hair peeking through the opening."Ah, Sano...forgive me." Solon waved a large hand to the man behind the door. "Come in, come in."

The man in question slipped around the door and shut it behind him. He walked toward Solon and stopped just in front of him. "I have a message for you, sir."

Solon looked up at him. "Sano, enough with the formalities. Give it to me."

The black-haired man handed him a folded-over bit of parchment. Confusion momentarily flitting over Solon's features, he unfolded the message and read the contents. After he finished, he read them again. Then again. And yet again. They still didn't make sense.

As if hearing the words aloud would help, Solon read the message. "General Jhee, report to the strategy room at once for an important meeting of the Highland Generals. Strategies to our next battle need to be discussed. This is a matter of dire importance. Report immediately. Signed....High General Seed?"

Sano nodded slowly. "It appears Seed's been busy during our absence."

Solon barely heard the words of his second-in-command. His fingers curled around the message and crumpled them. Seed had been busy, claiming a position that was rightfully his. So assuming in his commands to a man with much more experience than he...

In an instant, Solon was on his feet, strapping his heavy cape on his shoulders. He turned to the other man as he started out the door. "Come on, Sano...let's go find out what this is all about." Before I beat Seed senseless, he silently added.

Krugan headed into the cafe early in the morning and sat down. A waitress attended to him. "Just some coffee, please." he said with a smile. The waitress returned the smile and headed to the back of the establishment. She returned with his coffee moments later. As Krugan enjoyed his coffee, he thought, "I still can't believe Seed was promoted to Co-Commander. Even though I did almost as much work as him...oh well, jealousy won't fit in around here. Besides, I guess he did deserve it..."

Krugan's thoughts were interrupted by a small man running into the cafe and up to him. "Lord Krugan, High General Seed requests your presence in the meeting room immediately." the messenger replied.

"I see he is enjoying using his new title." Krugan thought with a small chuckle. "I'll be there soon." Krugan replied. The messenger bowed and left. After Krugan finished his coffee, he laid down a pouch of potch on the table and headed for the meeting room.

"We should be working, you know," Kiba said, not really meaning it because he wasn't paying for the beer. That's the thing. When you're not paying, you're not usually enthusiastic about leaving to do anything else.

"You're right," Alain shrugged, giving Kiba that odd-eyed look that had never ceased to make chills run down his spine. "We should be working. You drink too much. I shouldn't wear stiletto heels with this skirt. Dear Selina doesn't have the figure for that dress. Would you care to state anything else that is horrendously obvious, General?"

Sometimes, Alain Jarrett annoyed Kiba to no end.

"What do you mean, 'I don't have the figure for this dress'?" she demanded, reaching across the table, grabbing fistfuls of Alain's (presumably) expensive blouse.

Selina Embery could be downright annoying sometimes, too. Not when she decided she wanted to get into a fight, though, usually. Her annoying periods usually came when she was drunk and raving about how she would make a fine General.

Like hell. If it weren't for abject favouritism on Kiba's part, Selina would have been court-martialed several times over and demoted repeatedly for her inability to follow any order that wasn't "CHAAAAAAARGE!"

And people wondered why he was bald.

"Sit down, Selina..." he sighed. "And Alain, don't antagonize her. Be good, children..."

"Yessir," replied Selina instinctively as she indeed returned to her seat while Alain smoothed out his blouse.

The messenger came in then, the little bell above the entrance to the bar announcing that. He smoothly bypassed all the other military higher-ups that frequented the bar and made his way directly to the table that was owned(if not literally) by Kiba and company. The messenger saluted, then said, "General Kiba?"

He nodded in response, someone irritated at being again distracted from his favourite filthy habit. "Yes?" he said.

The messenger flourished, then pulled a rolled-up piece of parchment from seemingly nowhere and handed it to Kiba.

He took it, then looked back at the messenger. "Is this all?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then you can go now. Thank you."

The messenger bowed, and made a quick exit as Kiba unrolled the message and began to read. His eyes darted across the paper, and the further they got, the less happy they looked. Finally, he put it face down on the able. "How interesting..." he said, trying to keep his voice level. "It seems someone's gotten a promotion..."

"Was it me?" Selina asked, half reflexively and only half-seriously.

"No..." Kiba answered slowly. "You know that twenty-six year old General? Whatsisname... Seed? It seems that he was promoted to the position of co-commander of the whole army," he finished, and waited for the explosion. He was not disappointed.

"HE WAS WHAT?" Windows rattled. Glasses threatened to break. Tables vibrated at Selina's violent outburst.

"Really?" Alain said indifferently. "The good-looking redheaded one?"

"Calm down, Selina. Yes, Alain, that Seed, though I don't know that he'd appreciate you thinking about him that way," Kiba sighed. Impossible, these two, just impossible. "I've been asked to attend a meeting concerning some attack somewhere at my earliest convenience. Which should read as 'right now', though I'd really like to finish my beer. Will you two be furthering the rumours of favouritism, or are you going to stay here and get drunk?"

"-er," Alain said.

"What?"

"Drunker. You said drunk," Alain nitpicked.

"Whatever," Kiba waved his hand dismissively. "Well? Are you staying or are you coming?"

Alain put his drink down. "Of course I am. He's utterly gorgeous."

"Selina?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming... if I'm letting the paperwork pile up, I might as well do it when I'm bored out of my mind."

My head is splitting open... I swear it.

Seed groaned, trying to shake the bed sheets off. He placed his bare hand to his hot forehead while taking the time to rub his eyelids.

What the hell did I do last night?

He looked to his side and saw three empty bottles of assorted Highland spring wines. That's right, I couldn't sleep. I've got to stop drinking like this or I'm going to lose my head.

Suddenly, Seed heard a creak as the massive oak door to his quarters was opened from the outside. It swung open to reveal Stiles and his cheerful demeanor. "Fine day, eh Lord Seed?"

Seed turned his head to Stiles with a sly grin on his face. "How would I know? I've been in this bed all morning."

"Morning, you say? Hah! It's well into the afternoon Lord Seed."

Seed sat up and swung his legs over to the side of the bed, resting his head on his open hands. "Well Stiles, what do I have planned for today?" Seed asked.

"-uhm," Stiles replied.

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?"

"You have a strategy meeting to attend today for the mercenary fort assault. But in your current state I wouldn't advi-."

Seed waved his hand, cutting him off. "Don't tell me what I am and am not up t,o Stiles."

Stiles took this time to catch his breath; he hadn't expected such a sudden attack from someone so impaired. "The meeting has been scheduled in a half an hour."

Seed threw his head backwards and sighed. "All right, I will go as planned. Meet me in the war room in twenty minutes," he ordered, while dismissing him with his hand.

"Of course milord. One... small thing, though." Stiles continued.

Seed grunted slightly as he stood up from his bed and walked over to the massive walk-in closet. He reached for his basic black and grey shirt and crimson striped robe. "What would that be, Stiles?"

Stiles took in a deep breath. "Well, because of your new position, you are required to wear this." He reached over to a hanger and uniform that was draped over a nearby cabinet.

Seed twisted around quickly with a displeased look on his face. "You're kidding me, right?"

Stiles shook his head negatively. "I'm afraid not, sir."

Seed hung his head in disgust as he fastened the belt around his robe. "You can forget it, Stiles; I'm not wearing that thing."

"But, Lord Seed... it's regulation."

"Stiles, you don't honestly think I made general by following the regulations, do you?"

"Ye-"

"Good, I've made up my mind. I'm not wearing that uniform."

"Very well," sighed Stiles. "Would you care for some lunch or tea before you go?" He asked, holding out a tray with a tea cup and kettle.

Seed nodded an affirmative. "Thank you, hopefully that will sober me up a bit." he stated as he took a small cup from the tray.

"Oh sir, you would like sugar, wouldn't you?"

Again Seed nodded a yes and handed Stiles the cup.

Stiles began to stir in a spoonful of sugar, after which he handed the cup back, purposely pouring the tea down Seed's freshly cleaned outfit. Stiles was a little taken aback as he pretended to apologize for his error.

Seed looked up at him with an expression of rage in his eyes as he clasped his hand around Stiles' throat. "I saw that, you have a lot of nerve."

Stiles returned the glare and started gasping. "Would I be a proper adjutant if I had done nothing and not followed orders?"

Seed curled his lip as he released his grip. "Tch, fine. I'll wear the damned uniform." He turned his back and walked over to his mirror and began fixing his hair.

Stiles cackled lightly as he placed his hands together. "Goodie!"

Seed turned back to Stiles, raising his right brow. "What?"

"Er-" He paused. "Never mind."

Seed decided to dismiss his adjutant's sudden display, knowing that it would have been a waste of time for anyone to understand Stiles. Seed motioned towards the oak door. "Please leave, Stiles. I'll see you in the war room."

Stiles placed his arm across his chest and nodded his head in compliance as he left Seed's quarters.

About damn time. Ruka may be the Royal Prince of Highland, but where does he get off assigning me such an irritating man?

Seed walked back over to the chair which had the white uniform hanging from it. As he picked it up he broke out chuckling. The silly fool didn't even realize that he stained the wrong robe, he silently stated. By now Seed had thrown the white uniform into a corner and changed into his real crimson stripped robe.

On his way out the door a light shined off his eye. He looked closer and saw that the light through the cracked wall was reflecting off the pearl handle of his mother's dagger, the one he had took from her room. It was the last thing he had to remember her. Such a precious thing shouldn't be put in danger. But anything could happen at this point. Seed leaned over and took the dagger while placing it under his robe and continued down the hallway.

Despite the many annoyances and unneeded formalities that came with his new position, there were a few pleasures that he got to enjoy, one of which being he got moved into bigger quarters. The same quarters that once belonged to Han Cunningham during the first war between Jowston and Highland, and numerous other heroes from the past that only existed now in pages of Highland's history. Is that what I have or will become now? One of Highland's heroes? Bah, I never wanted that, he thought to himself.

Seed stood in front of oak war room door. The same room where Ruka sentenced him to hell by giving this ridiculous promotion. There were two soldiers guarding the room, one stationed on each side of the doorway. The young man braced himself as his mind began flooding with stray thoughts. I'm almost sure every man in that room will want me dead. It was a disturbing thought, but Seed couldn't help but wonder if even Krugan, his best friend, would make a move against him. Get a hold of yourself, Seed, just go in there, do your job, and leave. Simple enough. As he finished mentally preparing, he reached for the doorknob. Suddenly, he was interrupted by a man who had ran up to him. Seed immediately recognized him as Justan, another of Ruka's men. A former thief and turncoat if he wasn't mistaken; at least, that was the rumour.

"My apologies for not being here sooner; I was... unavoidably detained with other matters."

Seed nodded, "I understand. Please, after you." He motioned towards the door.

Justan graciously accepted and began to twist the door handle as the two reasonably tall men entered the war room. Justan was able to easily slip by and sit down. However, Seed wasn't as fortunate. He was immediately glared at by several sets of eyes. As if it wasn't bad enough, Seed's head began to ache. An aftereffect from the amount of wine he had drank.

Seed glanced over at General Kiba and his two lackeys, trying his hardest to keep the same expression.

The woman behind Kiba began to speak up, but seemingly thought better of it. She instead chose to smirk broadly while glaring daggers at Seed.

Seed again remained expressionless as he moved his attention to Alain who had been staring at him with those appraising, differently coloured eyes. He also had a smirk on his face, but it was less malicious, and more...

He wanted to say something to Alain, but decided against it. The last thing he needed this afternoon was a squabble. But unfortunately it was probably un-avoidable, given the circumstances.

Seed moved his attention off of Alain and over to Solon who seemed to be the most uncomfortable one of them all, and seemed to be walking around carrying something on his shoulders. I haven't seen him in so long; I thought I could consider him an ally. Maybe I was wrong. Another one to add to my list of potential assassins.

Seed walked to the front of the war room where Klaus waited standing next to a map of the Ryube region and mercenary fortress. He nodded his head to Klaus. The young strategist returned the gesture.

Pulling a chair aside, Seed sat down while clasping his hands together and laying them on the circular table. A few moments passed in silence as each person in the room glared at one another. Seed took in a breath of air and began to speak, "All right, I have left most of you in the dark for some time now. And now suddenly I call a meeting. I have kept this secret because if this information was to get out to the public, all hell of hell would unravel." Seed paused from his statement as he began to survey the reaction. Everyone was silent for a moment when Solon Jhee leaned forward.

"... And?" He asked as a cold stare swept across his face.

Seed paid no attention to him and stood up next to the map. "Come tomorrow morning, soldiers, archers and mages from the second, third and fourth companies as well as the White Wolf company will leave Highland and head towards the mercenary fortress south west of the destroyed village of Ryube. After which we will set up a camp to the north..."

Suddenly Solon stood up, knocking his chair off balance and sending it flying towards the back wall. "That's enough, Seed; I don't care. This battle is not what's on my mind right now," he snarled.

Seed looked back from the map and looked in the direction of the enraged general. "Then what is?"

"I think you know, Seed!" Solon snapped back.

Krugan sat up and stared towards Solon Jhee. "Sit down, Solon. We are hear to discuss the situation, not to indulge you and your bickering."

Solon raised his arm and pointed his gloved finger at Seed. "You mean to tell me you are planning on follow his orders?"

"I do what needs to be done for the good of the Highland kingdom."

Solon began gritting his teeth as he turned his attention towards Kiba. "What about you?"

Kiba looked up from the bottom of his water glass and spoke. "I'll hear what the child has to say before I start throwing fits."

Child?

"Meh..." Solon snarled as he sat his chair back up and sat down.

"Of course, I think he's a little young for the job, but..." Kiba continued.

"What is that supposed to mean, Kiba?" Asked Krugan. "Are you questioning Ruka's choice? At the very least he does his duty himself as opposed to spending his every waking moment in the pub!"

Krugan?

Alain sniggled slightly. "I think the three of us do more work than the rest of you put together. Not anybody's fault you're not good enough at your job to have very much free time..."

The four of them continued their bickering match and attempting to talk over each other's voices, Seed had lost track of the point each was trying to make. And it wasn't long before Stiles, Justan, Klaus, Selina, Sano and Roland began in over top. Now it was getting to the point that aggravated Seed's headache more and more.

That is it, Seed thought to himself. I really should opt to have this room made larger. It isn't large enough for the people. Not to mention the hot air being blown out of these people. I should stop this. But how? Seed pulled open his robe to see the pearl handled dagger that he held onto. Without hesitation he pulled it out of his robe. After taking a quick glance at the still bickering generals, it seemed that nobody noticed. Seed sigh was drowned out quickly. That is it, Seed's attitude suddenly changed. He was tired of this. Suddenly he extended his arm and dug the dagger into the middle of the table with all his strength. The room instantly went silent as everyone's eyes became locked on Seed.

Krugan and Kiba sat back down in a relaxed manner. Seed and Solon on the other hand stared at each other across the war room table, their eyes locked, both silent.

Seed climbed up slightly on the table holding himself up on his arms. "Hit me, Solon," he said sternly.

Solon's expression suddenly changed at Seed's request. "What?"

"Perhaps you didn't hear me. I told you to hit me." Seed repeated as he pointed to his own face. "Right here."

Solon's expression was very strange, very perplexed. He wondered to himself what it was exactly that Seed was planning. His expression changed to a grin. "Very well." Solon brought back his massive arm and threw his clenched fist squarely at Seed's face, snapping his neck back.

Selina had a smirk on her face, obviously enjoying the sight that was taking place no more then three feet away. Kiba had a look of strong disapproval on his face and Alain had an expression of distinct disgust.

Seed wiped the hair aside from his face and locked eyes with Solon again. "Again."

Solon's eyes moved inward. "What?"

"I said hit me again."

Krugan placed his open hand over Seed's fist. "Seed, are you insane?"

"No, Krugan, I assure you I am quite sane. Solon, again."

The massive general shrugged and again threw his fist into Seed's face, knocking it back again. This time did a little more damage.

Seed tried to regain his balance as he wiped away a trickle of blood from his nose. "One more time," he ordered.

Alain leaned forward slightly, whispering something into Kiba's ear. A pause, then Kiba whispered something back.

His last order really threw people off. Everyone looked strangely at Seed, then towards Solon, wondering what his next move would be.

Without much hesitation Solon complied and punched Seed one last time.

Seed's head snapped back and he threw his body into the chair behind him. He sniffed and squinted as the tingling feeling left behind. He leaned forward and glared at olive-capped general. "Tell me Solon, did that quench your thirst for my blood? Was the first hit the same as the second, the second to the third, or the third to the first two?" He asked, not giving Solon time to reply, though Selina interrupted with a derisive snort. "We cannot hope to win this damned conflict if we fight amongst ourselves. So I ask you, not for my sake, not for yours, not even for the royal family. But for the people of Highland who depend on us to protect them."

Kiba, Krugan, Justan and the rest of the people in the room looked at Seed, then focused on Solon. Obviously Seed had just dealt a more painful blow to Solon then his physical attacks.

Solon sat back down and remained quiet, suddenly introspective. The other people in the room followed suit in his example of silence.

The war room was silent for another few moments. "Klaus" Seed called.

"Yes sir?"

"Continue with the briefing."

"Of course." The nineteen-year-old strategist walked back over to the map. "Generals Solon, Kiba and Krugan will command the third, fourth and fifth companies." Alain whispered something to Selina at this, to which she half-giggled slightly. "General Seed, Justan and myself will command the overall attack. The assault will be done in two separate waves." Klaus took another breath. "The first wave will use roughly one quarter of our forces. They will do their best to wear down the mercenaries. After the battle is over we will order a full retreat. Once their forces pull back into their fortress, the third and fourth companies will attack from the front while the fifth company along with the White Wolves under Prince Ruka will attack from the back. Lords Kiba and Solon will command the soldier and mage groups while Krugan commands the archers."

Alain's jaw dropped about halfway through this, a look of utter disbelief on his face. He quickly produced a pad of paper and a pen from folds in his skirt, wrote something down on it and handed it to Kiba. He took one look at it, then crumpled it up and tossed it on the ground.

Seed looked over to Klaus and waved his hand dismissively. "That's it, we leave tomorrow."

Kiba, Selina, and Alain all stood up, looks of varying displeasure on their faces.

"A day's notice. Not even," Selina noted unpleasantly. "What does that incompetent think we are, a traveling pony show?"

"How did that man ever manage to achieve such a high rank with such little understanding of how the military works?" said Alain sourly. "If he thinks I'm going to be getting anything close to five thousand mages together, he's even more of an incompetent than I gave him credit for."

"And that little 'hit me' display..." Kiba grumbled. "What was that at all intended to accomplish beyond establishing what a fool he is?"

"Gawds, who did he sleep with?" Alain paused. "And where do they live?"

Kiba shook his head. "But let's nevermind that for now. Alain, if you could get me projections of the numbers of these mercenaries ASAP, and Selina, you look into how many soldiers we can get together on a day's notice."

"Not too many, though," Alain said. "The books-- oh, gods, the books! Do you have any idea how much this venture is going to cost?"

"Too much," said Selina flatly. "But I should go take care of that. I'll give a report later." She nodded, spun on her heel, and left.

"And I'll go for that information. It shouldn't take me too long to acquire." Alain hesitated. "Even though this 'attack' has all the sophistication of a child's game of tag. A crippled child." He left.

Kiba made a quick look around the room as if for confirmation of something, then, as he had business to take care of himself, he also left.

And if anyone happened to pick up a certain crumpled piece of paper that was lying on the ground and looked at it, they could have read, in utterly precise handwriting, "I don't like insulting a man's children, but your son is an idiot."

Sano Trist watched his commander warily as they left the war room. His eyes were clouded over in thought, his shoulders uncharacteristically sagged down. His heavily armored hands hung limply at his sides, the right still bearing the red tint of High General Seed's blood. Solon hadn't even bothered wiping it off. It stained the knuckles and now ran slowly down his fingers. Pulling his eyes from the mesmerizing trail of blood down Solon's hand, he looked up at his commander's face.

A million different thoughts were etched across the battle-hardened visage Solon now carried. Did he think of the task ahead? Or what Seed had said to him? Did he question his own loyalty, his motives? Perhaps something in his past was weighing him down. Solon hadn't told Sano much about himself, save the basic boring events. Worry and morbid curiosity crashed together inside Sano, making the question irresistible.

"Lord Jhee...what're you thinking about?"

Solon almost jumped, and looked slightly over at his second. He glanced down at his bloodied hand and grinned, only slightly forced. "I should have hit him harder."

Sano chuckled and watched as Solon caught the edge of his cape and began to clean his silver-plated hand. "Begin the preparations, Sano. We only have a day." He groaned. "I hate mages."

"Lucky us." Sano laughed again, Solon joining in slightly.

Solon finished cleaning his hand. "Yeah, lucky us...anyway, let's get started. Wouldn't want to upset the High General."

"Heaven forbid."

"That was very reckless of you Seed, though I've known you to act reckless." He briefly paused. "But this is well beyond reckless."

Seed leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling and placing his gloved hands on his forehead. "I know it was, and Solon has one hell of a right punch. But I had a point to be made, and if it got them off my back ,a little blow to the nose wasn't too much of a price to pay."

"Maybe, maybe not. You have branded yourself a martyr. And nobody likes a martyr." Krugan grinned at his friend.

Seed looked back at Krugan and returned the grin. "Well, enough small talk. What would you say to a little business?" Seed said while making a drinking motion with his hand.

"You never used to drink; what's happening to you, Seed? First a hangover, then you become a martyr. What's next Seed? Nightmares and lack of sleep?"

"If you only knew Krugan, if you only knew."

"Indeed."

"You know what? You are the best friend a guy like me could ask for."

"I am your only friend, Seed."

"Oh that's rich, and you know it."

Krugan smiled and put his hand on Seed's shoulder. "Do I?"

Seed looked up at the taller man. "That's the one thing I haven't got you to do. You really never know when to shut up."