Frenor at night took on an entirely different atmosphere than the day. A cool mist floated throughout the village, slowly finding its way down the few streets making up the market only to disappear into surrounding thick forests. Bright moonbeams illuminated the mist, casting a ghostly light on the buildings and roads. Several nocturnal creatures could normally be heard on a night like this but the crowd of peasants still gathered outside Frenor's Finest Inn dampened their usual clamor this night. Still, closer to the forest at the rear of the inn, Cristo could hear more crickets than people.

Leaning against a wall at the back of the inn, the bodyguard let out a bored gust of air as he lightly tugged at a rope hanging from a window above. The cool night caused him to involuntarily shiver and he wrapped his arms around his body to try to keep warm as kept watch. Although he tried to remain serious about the task handed to him, his outside demeanor belied his inner turmoil.

His feelings were severely stung when Alena told him to wait outside, to "Keep watch." Keep watch, he thought bitterly, biting his lower lip. Keep watch of what? There's nothing back here to watch out for.

Indeed, Timothy's resourcefulness had proven useful. While the front of Frenor's Finest Inn remained the town's source of activity tonight, the back of the inn was completely neglected. Sneaking through the forest outlining Frenor, the travelers were able to reach the unguarded back undetected.

Yet when the decision came to choose who would keep watch outside, Alena had chosen Brey to accompany her and Timothy to break into the inn. Cristo's face nearly blanched when she had said it. Why did she choose the old tutor over him again?

Waiting by himself for the last several minutes had given the bodyguard a chance to ponder his unanswered question. In all truthfulness, Brey had proven to be a valuable asset to their party with his wide range of knowledge of the world. His ability to cast a few, simple magic spells was useful at times as well.

Take these away, though, and one would be left with a frail, old man possessing a contemptible attitude towards peasants.

In terms of fighting prowess, Cristo definitely had the upper hand. His swordsmanship was very proficient. The only reason he had not used it to his full potential was due to Brey's request early in their journeys. Ever loyal to help Alena gain what she desired, the bodyguard had remained passive during their battles while in her presence.

Perhaps it was time to change that, though. Perhaps, Cristo thought, if he could show what he was truly capable of, Alena would have more faith in him and include him in more of their adventures. Even Brey might show more respect toward him and cease his never-ending stinging remarks regarding Zenithism.

However, was simple swordsmanship enough? Surely Alena and Brey knew he was a capable fighter, otherwise he would never have been assigned as the Princess' personal bodyguard. Despite this, neither of them displayed much faith in him as a fighter. What more could he do to prove his worth?

The answer, he surmised, lay within is own magic; the magic of Zenithia. Already the bodyguard had displayed powers well beyond his supposed capability as an apprentice cleric; even Brey was kind enough to recognize this.

But what if he could go beyond that? What if he could gain the powers told of in the Zenithian Texts that priests and paladins of ancient times could achieve? There were many spells a capable cleric could learn but many were content with the varied forms of healing, and for good reason.

Although the Texts told of powerful spells within clerical magic, it also warned of the dangers in attempting to master such spells. Several hopeful clerics in the past had become lost in the power, forever trapping their souls on the earth in the forms of horrible apparitions. Others would be tempted by the dark demon, Esturk, in gaining their powers through the usage of dark magic, only to become a servant of the Ruler of Evil in His abominable realm.

Despite the dangers, Cristo's heart felt it would be worth the risk. Anything would be worth the risk to prove his worth to Alena.

Like any true follower of Zenithism, though, Cristo required a sign from the Master to show he was in good favour with his God; no Zenithist could attain such power without the Master's blessing.

The bodyguard knelt on the damp grass and placed his hands together in a praying stance; the thumbs, forefingers, and little fingers touching, the rest folded over the right fingers. He murmured the introduction to any Zenithist prayer, simply stating his soul would forever be devoted to Master Dragon and the Zenithians in return for the chance to reside with them when his material body no longer existed. Once finished, Cristo tilted his head to the heavens, waiting to see if he had been heard.

The night sky was overcast, a few stars peaking through small pockets in the blanket of clouds. It was said Zenithia existed above the clouds but no mortal had ever seen the realm, thus keeping it in myths and legends.

As a child, Cristo often dreamed of flying above the clouds to witness the splendour of Zenithia as pictured in the Texts his father showed him at night. He would fly through the massive, golden gates, land gently at the base of the Stairs of Utopia, and be escorted by a wide range of famous Zenithians, their dove-like wings gently bouncing on their backs as they guided him through their wondrous halls and extensive libraries.

However, the young Cristo never saw Master Dragon in his dreams, as though His form could never fit within the boundaries of his imagination. There were very few pictures of the Master within the Texts, most drawn by different artists who only had rough ideas and based their sketches on dragons of ancient myth. Cristo's father, a strict follower of Zenithism, was overtly profound with his accusations against any statue or drawing, claiming the Master's magnificence could never by captured on stone or canvas. Thus Cristo's interpretation of their God was a distorted combination of artists' representation and his own father's grand, though vague, description.

Several minutes passed and Cristo remained unmoving. If any doubt crept into his mind, he instantly shoved it aside. Waiting for a sign from the Master could take as long as several days, a way of testing the devotee's faith. Although the bodyguard had no intention of waiting that long, it was still worth a try for the time being, as he really had nothing better to do while he waited for the others.

Suddenly thinking of his companions, a curious thought entered his mind, wondering what Alena and Brey would think if they saw him kneeling in wet grass, seemingly hypnotized by the stars. They would probably think I look ridiculous, he thought bitterly.

The clouds parted, revealing the full form of the constellation of Master Dragon for a brief moment. If one watched carefully, they would have been rewarded with a rare celestial event. One of the stars in the head of the Master, though very faint, could sometimes be seen on the darkest of nights. It brilliantly flashed once then flickered back into obscurity.

Cristo was fortunate enough to witness the rare spectacle.

His body suddenly froze, his eyes widening in horror as a numb pain shot through his head. Most would collapse under the pressure but Cristo somehow remained in his praying stance, his eyes fixed on the Master's stars.

His soul was then lost in euphoria. Alena, Brey, the inn behind him, Frenor, even his very body became nothing more than a distant dream; a new realm opened before his soul.

And the Texts opened before him…

* * *

Alena found she could grow fond of sneaking around and breaking into places she was not allowed to be (and, as a Princess, such places were rare). It gave her a heightened sense of excitement she never really experienced before. The thrill of a battle, the anticipation of seeing foreign lands, even the brief "romantic" encounter with the creature Durron could not compare with this.

What if someone was around the next corner? What if they were caught? What would happen in such a situation? How could they escape?

The princess was beginning to understand Timothy a little better and maybe why he had chosen such a disreputable occupation such as thieving. It was not only for the necessity of it but also for the thrill of it. Given that fact, Alena found herself a little intrigued by his character despite the shortcomings he had displayed since she met him.

The inn was much larger than expected, with many rooms lining the maze-like halls. During the busy season of the trade market, these rooms would be filled with several merchants from all parts of the remote region. However, with a Princess supposedly staying here, the innkeeper had been quite thorough in removing anyone residing at his inn. With all forms of competition out of the way, the innkeeper could have the Princess all to himself to probably entertain quite lavishly. The innkeeper's selfishness had worked to the travellers' advantage, however, as Timothy had no trouble in guiding Alena and Brey through the empty inn without drawing attention to themselves.

The thief stopped at a corner before advancing, holding a hand up to halt his companions' advance. A quick peek later, Timothy pointed around the corner, letting them know their target was in that direction. "Two guards," he whispered. "About as large as the one outside."

Alena smiled, an odd twinkle flashing in her eyes. "Shouldn't be a problem."

"Remember," Brey whispered, "we are to take them out as quickly and silently as possible. We don't want to draw unnecessary attention to ourselves. Who knows how many of these giants are in here."

The others nodded in agreement, although Alena somewhat reluctantly. Sneaking around the inn had already surged her adrenaline and a forward charge would have been fun as well.

Once prepared, the old tutor began to utter the words for ‘Sap', and invisible energy found its way to its targets. The two guards gasped in horror as their muscled, toned bodies began to suddenly shrivel like a grape in sunlight.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Alena and Timothy rushed forward, each landing a solid blow to a stunned guard. Normally, such a blow would have been shrugged off as an annoyance but their shrivelled skin made the guards highly susceptible to such attacks. Both dropped like fallen trees.

Despite being almost half the weight of her opponent, Alena was still able to catch the large, falling man and gently lay him on the ground. Timothy was not quite as strong, however, and could not help but let his victim fall to the floorboards with a thud. The noise brought disapproving glares from his companions but all the thief could do was shrug in defence.

Brey rounded the corner, rubbing his white whiskers as he studied the unconscious giants. After a moment of thought, he said to his companions, "Let's just leave them here. We should be finished and long gone by the time they wake up."

Timothy nodded and turned his attention to the door. He gave a light twist on the knob, confirming his suspicion it was already locked. Shrugging, he pulled out an odd looking key from a pocket in his pants. For some reason, it had tiny spokes protruding at seemingly random spots along its body.

With steady hands, the thief slid the strange key into the lock and rattled it around a bit, his head deftly placed close to the door. Eventually, an audible click was heard and Timothy smiled.

The thief withdrew the key and placed it back into his pocket. As he did, Timothy noticed Alena appeared mesmerized by his actions. He quickly realized she had never seen anyone perform what had been standard routine for him. Timothy decided to have a little fun with her, especially since she had placed that curse on him and forced him into this situation.

He threw Alena a knowing wink, which drew a confused stare from the princess. "That was something I made," he smiled modestly. "Every thief needs a key like that. Some require multiple tools to do the job but that little key is all an expert like me needs."

"How did you get it?" Alena asked, her face that of a young child's fascination.

"It took me many years to perfect its intricate design," Timothy replied, stretching the truth. "Many, many trial and errors." He paused for a moment, slightly looking away. "Would you like to try your hand at it, Alena?"

"Could I?" she exclaimed, her eyes wide with anticipation. Surely such a skill would be useful, not to mention exciting. Already her hand was extended to receive the thief's key.

Brey, whom had been watching without much interest, finally had enough. Although he had decided to take a passive role in this excursion, someone had to be the responsible one in the party. Probably the best course of action was a rude awakening.

"If you two are through flirting," he gruffly said with a tap of his crooked walking staff, "could we carry on?"

Timothy could not help but chuckle, wondering just how the old man saw what he was doing.

Alena blinked a few times as if coming out of a trance. She promptly pulled back her hand, so embarrassed by her childish action it found its way behind her back.

Timothy, sensing her embarrassment, gently grabbed her arm and pulled her hand out. Alena could have easily resisted but was curious as to what the thief was doing. He reached into his pocket and withdrew his key, placing it in Alena's open palm before closing her hand. "I'll teach you tomorrow," he smiled with a wink.

The princess could not help but blush as she placed the key in her pocket. Brey could not help but roll his eyes.

Timothy turned his attention to the door and gently turned the knob, easing it open quietly. The option of charging through was early abandoned upon deciding a noisy break-in would draw too much attention to them. The door swung open, lightly groaning on neglected hinges.

The room on the other side was large, much larger than any of them could have guessed by judging the inn's size. It was not just a bedroom with a few extra pieces of furniture, as most rooms of small-town inns were designed. Rather, it was filled with luxurious furniture: couches, tables, chairs, even a desk with foreign flowers. To their right was a pair of doors, probably leading to the actual bedchambers.

However, aside from the furnishings, the room was also empty.

"What the…?" Timothy muttered, poking his head through the opening. He scanned the room, finding no trace of the Princess or her companions. However, someone's belongings were here and, judging from the large amount of bags, Timothy only assumed this was indeed the Princess' chamber.

Brey made his way inside, studying the room intently. In an attempt to search for clues regarding the room's emptiness, he wandered over to a closet and opened it. "Now this is interesting," he mused, rubbing his white whiskers as he gazed inside.

"What is it, James?" Timothy asked as he walked over, Alena close behind.

The old tutor blinked for a second, momentarily caught off guard by the use of his alias. He often forgot about it since his companions still referred to him his real name. "There's a tunnel here," Brey said at length. Indeed, a hole large enough for an average man to fit through was in the back of the closet.

"How ingenious for him to place such a passage," Timothy muttered, his eyes filled with amazement. "I never would have suspected someone like that old goat to come up with this."

"What do you mean?" Brey asked, turning a curious gaze in the thief's direction.

"Hmm…? Oh, nothing…" Timothy replied as though coming out of a trance. Brey kept his gaze on him though, not quite satisfied with the response.

However, before Timothy could elaborate, Alena's head suddenly perked up. "Did you hear that?" she said, her ears tilted towards the tunnel.

"Hear what?" Brey asked, listening as well.

"It sounded like a muffled scream, I think," the princess replied. She paused for a moment, then said, "There it is again."

Brey frowned. He still could not hear it. Must be going deaf, he thought bitterly.

Timothy, though, had been able to make out the sound once Alena had informed them of it. After hearing it the second time, his eyes suddenly widened. "You don't suppose the Princess is down there, do you?"

"If that's so," Alena said, "why would she be…" Her voice trailed off, a thought coming to mind.

She suddenly bolted towards the passage, pausing briefly to say, "Brey! Tim! Come on!" Timothy, having drawn a similar conclusion, diligently followed. The old tutor heaved a sigh and followed last, his interest in the whole affair waning.

The passage was not very large and Alena had to move sideways to get any speed. Even though it was pitch black, the passage was fairly straight and easy to follow. However, a sudden drop in the floor did cause the princess to loose her balance. "What the…?" she mumbled as she found her way back to her feet. She felt the ground in front of her and noticed there was another small drop. The passage was going down, but down to where?

Cautiously moving down, Alena had to slow her pace. It was not too long, though, before she arrived at a dead end. She felt the wall for any signs of a door. If there was one, she could not find it. Wondering if perhaps she had taken a wrong turn somewhere, the princess placed her ear on the door. She definitely heard movement on the other side, even a few gruff voices. This had to be the right place; there were just no signs of a door.

An idea came to mind. Maybe she would have to make her own door. If she could make one from a stone wall in a feat of uncontrollable rage, making one in wood with a steady mind should be no trouble at all.

There was not much room for manoeuvrability so kicking was out of the question. It would probably take a fair amount of controlled force in her tiny fists to make a large enough hole for her to fit through. Steeling her mind, Alena slowly brought back her clenched hand and imagined putting it through the wall. In seconds, she reached her potential height of adrenaline and shot her fist forth.

Her knuckles sent stinging pain to her brain as the boards could not help but crack under Alena's amazing strength. The hole was not large enough, though, so the princess followed through with her other fist, alternating between them.

Within seconds, Alena's knuckles had several splinters and blood trickled down her fingers. However, she hardly registered the pain, too satisfied at seeing her accomplished goal. The hole she made was just large enough for her to squeeze through.

Once on the other side, she found herself inside a small, empty room. She was not alone, either.

Two men were inside the room. One was of large girth and wearing dirty clothes. The other one was smaller with a face giving him the semblance of a rat.

In the large man's massive arms was a small, dainty woman wearing an elegant, white, satin robe and a jewel-studded golden tiara. Alena could not make out her face, though, as the large man's arms had her deep in his grasp. However, upon seeing how nobly the woman was dressed, Alena quickly came to the assumption this was her impostor. And seeing how she was obviously being constrained in the large man's arms against her will, Alena's other assumption had been correct as well.

Both men stared at the princess with wide eyes, surprised by her sudden appearance. Taking advantage of their surprise, Alena stepped forward to confront them. She may have even been able take them out had she not tripped over a body directly in front of her. He had been so close to the wall that Alena had not noticed him when she burst through.

She fell face first into the floorboards, severely banging her nose.

Despite the pain, Alena was quick to push herself to her feet but by then it was too late. Seeing Alena's humiliating fall had brought the two men out of their shock. The small, rat-faced one had already darted for the door and the large one was moving behind him, the impostor still in his rough grasp.

Alena started to give chase but the large man halted her. "Don't move!" he warned, tightening the hold. His voice quivered though, still shaken by Alena's strength. She sensed this and took another step forward.

"I said don't move!" the large man repeated, "or the Princess will be hurt!" Alena did not falter, knowing full well the person the large man was holding was not the Princess of any country.

"Better do as he says, Alena," Timothy's voice came from behind. She turned around and found the thief coming through the hole, a frantic expression on his face. "We don't want any harm to come to her," he said to the large man.

"Tim!" Alena nearly cried, her attention now on her companion. "She's not really…!" Suddenly realizing her mistake, Alena quickly turned around.

The large man and the impostor were gone.

"Dammit, Tim, now look at what you've done!" Alena's face flushed with anger.

"But…" Timothy tried to start but was immediately cut off.

"Come on!" she ordered, grabbing his arm. "We still might be able to stop them." Nearly pulling the thief off his feet, the two gave pursuit.

Upon exiting the small room, they found themselves in an empty hallway. Alena quickly looked both ways to find the kidnappers. Instead, she found a door slightly ajar leading outside. The princess bolted for the door, Timothy close behind.

A quick glance outside revealed the door lead to the back of the inn. She also saw the kidnappers running away towards the area Cristo was. Alena sprinted in that direction, calling out Cristo's name so he could intercept the kidnappers.

She rounded a corner with the kidnappers still in her distant sight. Yet, had Cristo heard her, he should have been able to block their escape. Where was he?

Alena briefly turned her attention to where they had left the bodyguard and was dumbfounded by what she saw. He was kneeling in the grass, his hands folded in a praying stance, and staring blankly at the clouds. "What the…?" she absently muttered, then shouted, "Cristo!" If he heard her, the bodyguard did not show any recognition of her presence.

Timothy finally caught up to Alena and she quickly pointed to Cristo, hastily commanding the thief to wake the bodyguard up. Timothy opened his mouth to ask for an explanation but none was forthcoming, the princess already off in pursuit. His eyes followed her path for a moment, watching her disappear into the night with wonderment. She sure has spirit, he thought, smiling.

The thief turned his attention to Cristo, curious as to what Alena had meant. Indeed, the bodyguard was in a trance-like state, staring at the heavens. "Cristo!" Timothy called out, receiving no reply.

"Hey!" he said, becoming irritated. The thief walked forward to shake the bodyguard awake but paused in his steps. His eyes widened in horror as he noticed something very unnatural about Cristo. A faint aura was surrounding the hypnotized man, sparkling between black and deep red.

"Cristo?" the thief called out hesitantly, unsure whether he was all right or not. However, there still was no response as Cristo's gaze remained fixed on the sky.

Timothy repeatedly called Cristo's name, taking hesitating steps forward each time. Soon, the thief was within arm's length and was worried he might have to physically touch the bodyguard to wake him. Would this aura cover him if he did, though?

Timothy had every desire to leave Cristo as he was, some sort of lie coming to mind if Alena asked him why he had not wakened him up. However, his fear of Alena's wrath if she saw through the lie was stronger than his fear of the unnatural magic surrounding the bodyguard.

Finding a stick, Timothy slowly inched it forward, beads of cold sweat forming on his brow. He clenched his eyes tightly, sucked in his breath, and lightly poked Cristo. When the aura surrounding the bodyguard did not leap onto the stick and cover the thief, Timothy let out a sigh of relief, tossed the stick away, and roughly shoved Cristo over with a booted foot.

The bodyguard fell over in a stunned heap, the aura instantly fading. "Wake up!" Timothy barked, clapping his hands together.

Cristo looked around briefly with bewilderment. He saw Timothy standing over him, the thief's hands on his hips. "What happened?" he quickly asked, still blinking rapidly as his eyes were quite dry.

"You were under some sort of spell, Cris," the thief replied.

Cristo stood up, mumbling, "Oh…" and started to walk away. Timothy watched the bodyguard walk away, stunned by his apathetic behaviour.

* * *

If there was one thing Alena was beginning to hate, it would have to be the woods, especially at night. There always was a low hanging branch catching her in the face, or a raised root tripping her, or a bush her clothes would snag on. If she did not assume the kidnappers were having just as difficult of a time as she was, the princess probably would not have remained in these woods for as long as she had.

As she fumbled her way through the trees and shrubs, though, pursuing the kidnappers were not foremost on her mind. Rather, something else preoccupied her thoughts: Cristo.

Why had he not reacted when she ordered him to? He had always diligently followed her commands without a second thought, sometimes putting aside his duty and even his religion to help her. In effect, his continuing praying was inexcusable as well as strange.

Why would he be praying so late at night, anyway? What would be the point of abandoning his immediate responsibility so he might let Master Dragon know just how devoted he was to Him?

The fact Alena did not really believe in Zenithism further heightened her frustration with Cristo, seeing it as a waste of time when there were more pressing matters at hand.

Alena's thoughts were so trained on her frustration that she did not notice a large fist swing at her until it smashed into her face. The princess flew back, grasping for her nose as her head swooned and blood rushed into her nostrils. She tried to quickly stand back up but the blow had dizzied her senses and she fell back down, tears brimming on her eyes.

Her assailant came out from behind a tree: the large man she had been chasing after! "I'll let you live," he said, rubbing his fist, "if you deliver a message to the people of Frenor." Alena did not want to comply with his threat but the pain made thinking straight an arduous chore, ruling out hand to hand combat. Bile rising in her throat, Alena weakly nodded.

The large kidnapper nodded once, then said, "The Princess will be kept hostage until Frenor's treasure, the golden bracelet, is paid as ransom. We'll exchange at the town's graveyard. Understood?" Alena weakly nodded again and the large man stepped back into the shadows of the woods.

Alena's head fell limply, allowing the weakness in her body to take over. She was disgusted with her inability to do anything but the pain was too much to initiate any action.

Tears of frustration running down her crimson cheeks, Alena found she could really grow to hate the woods.