Haunting in Shadows

Haunting in Shadows is an in-the-works-novel set in the Matoran Universe.

Prologue
Evening sunlight glistened against the ocean water surrounding the island of Daxia. The sun itself slowly set on the horizon. Most would take a moment to enjoy the beautiful lights that danced all over the ocean, but for Toa Helryx, the evening was not one of peaceful indulgence, but of anxious anticipation. Seven days prior, a mysterious warrior by the name of Geliax had left on a mission with a few companions to investigate rumors of an army of Rahkshi rising in the underground of Metru-Nui, city of legends. A large contribution to her nervous state was that Geliax was her secret lover.

Helryx's eyes danced in several directions, searching for any sign of the watercraft that the group had taken. For a period of time she did not know, she scanned the seas for any sign of the ship. The sun set after what felt like hours and gradually, the sky began to darken. Stars began to appear as the sky grew black. Panic began to set in. What if the group had been killed? She could not fathom how she would possibly continue without Geliax. Her heart stone nearly shattered as she saw a torchlight in the distance. Orange on the black water, it shone brightly as it moved closer at a painfully slow pace. Once it was close enough, Helryx decided to speed it up a little.

Using her powers over water, she caused the current to carry the boat towards the shore faster. Just as the vessel landed on the sand. Helryx saw the amount of sailors on board was a total of one. It was not Geliax. Helryx inched her way towards the boat and saw the exhausted member of the Order of Mata Nui, Johmak, aboard. Johmak looked up at her leader. She said nothing as she reached into a bag and pulled something out. Helryx held out both her hands to take it. Accidentally knocking over her shield, which was covered with grime, scratches, and blood, Johmak pulled out a helmet and placed it in Helryx's hands. Emotion overcame Helryx, though she did what she could to not show it. Johmak picked up her shield and limped away, the torch revealing a gash in her left thigh. Helryx did not notice. Once Johmak was out of sight she collapsed. Overcome. Their was nothing left. She could only feel one thing as she looked off into nothingness.

Pain.

Time passed. She took no notice. Memories continued to flood her mind. Memories about him, them, their son......She snapped back to reality. Geliax's son still lay in Her chambers. She stood up and ran back to the base. She ignored any who glanced at her as she sprinted towards her chamber. She got there in under a minute, such was her panic. Only once she met her son's quizzical gaze that she realized he was safe. She fell onto her bed. She now had a new duty to fulfill. What would she do with him? Raise him with it being common knowledge that she had a son? Everyone would ask who his father was. She could not let that happen. She pondered for hours, the same question running across the far corners of her mind. ''What will I do with him? ''

A knock on the door broke her away from her thoughts. She made sure they boy was out of sight before answering. Tobduk stood in the door. The large Order member that lead assassinations for the order. "Ma'am, I was told of what happened to Geliax. I'm sorry, I knew he was your friend."

"Thank you Tobduk." She answered wearily. "I also have a report on exactly what happened, I thought you should hear it." She paused a moment, then allowed him to enter. "Please, begin." Helryx said, terrified of what she might hear. "Geliax and his group of twenty were far below the archives when they discovered that the rumors were indeed true." He paused, and she indicated for him to continue. "A small army of Rahkshi were indeed raising underground. Instead of falling back, Geliax sent Johmak back to a safe distance and then took his other nineteen warriors and engaged them. They were at a one hundred to one scale." He stopped to breathe. "As Johmak puts it, each of the nineteen warriors fell one by one, but not before taking at least twenty with them. Each.

"Geliax himself was the last one fighting, and he crippled the army of creatures beyond repair. He took on over a hundred by himself. Three survived, and they were incapable of crawling away. The Rahkshi retreated back down into the tunnels, and Johamk went down to Geliax.

"She was with him until he died from his wounds. She says it was impossible to tell which was the fatal blow, if indeed there was one. He gave her his helmet, which I believe you now possess." He finished, and Helryx nodded. An urge to go to Metru-Nui to avenge Geliax came to her, but she knew she couldn't. Not when the order needed leading. An idea sprung into her mind. ''I cannot. He can.'' She thought. It was risky, but the boy would have to serve the order anyway, this way would just prolong his life. "Tobduk, before you go, I must ask something of you."

"What would that be, ma'am?" Helryx moved over to where the boy was hidden, and lifted him up, showing Tobduk. "I found him on the shores a few nights ago. I couldn't just leave him."

"What should I do?"

She took a mental deep breath. "Raise him until he's old enough to fight. Then, train him. When you think he is capable, send him to me." Tobduk nodded, and she handed the child to Tobduk, who was unusually gentle. "After about fourteen years, I'll begin training him. Is that acceptable?"

"Yes. Go." Before he left, Tobduk asked: "What is his name?" She pondered it for a moment. They had yet to think up a suitable name for him. She thought about what he would probably become after his training. From that, she knew what name to pick.

"His name is Zaeron." She answered. The name meant "Bird of Prey" in the Matoran language. Tobduk left and she closed the door. She fell onto her bed and cried. Her lover was dead, and her son would never know who she was. Was it truly necessary? It is necessary. She realized. Either way, he'd go down to find the Rahkshi once he was able, this way, he'd have a better chance at surviving it. She looked out her window. Rain had begun to pour down onto Daxia. The weather is reflecting my mood. She thought dully as the dreary weather continued. She would be in a bad mood for the next seven years. She would not see Zaeron for the next fourteen years.

Lifestyle of a Machine.
In the fourteen years that passed, Tobduk watched in amazement at how Zaeron grew. He was unlike anything the old order member knew of. He seemed bio-mechanical, and at the same time, natural. The mechanics grew along with the soft insides, creating a species unlike anything Tobduk, or any member who knew of him, was familiar with. He had to keep his wonderment for another time, as Zaeron almost seemed to live off the training he provided him with. The boy's personality gritted against Tobduk as he grew. Constant sarcastic humor and occasional pessimism were the boy's most dominant aspects of personality. He could be compassionate to someone undergoing a time of pain. Namely, the friends of members who died on mission. Above all, he was smart. He had intelligence that matched Tobduk's and Johmak's put together. The thing that gritted at Tobduk was the mood swings that happened every now and then. He would be a sensitive, compassionate being at one point, and then a harsh, merciless being who would not hesitate to offend or threaten to get what he needed.

As Tobduk mulled over these thoughts, he gazed out into the starry night through the window of his chamber. The night looked eerily similar to the one in which Helryx had given him the job of raising and teaching the boy. Seven years since that day had passed, and Tobduk had told Helryx that he would begin the next day. He pushed those thoughts aside and lay down on his bed, making an attempt to sleep. Moments before achieving that goal, he noticed a flickering white light from the window. He knew that it was coming from the private training training ring Helryx had given him. "Blast, what now?" He muttered and stood up. He looked out the window, and was surprised to see Zaeron standing a few meters away from the ring, slowly going through the armory. A lone lightstone was hanging above the ring. Tobduk considered going down and chewing Zaeron out, then he paused, curious as to what the boy would do. Zaeron was inspecting the swords the armory had stocked. Every third blade or so, he would take it out and swing it around, then put it back, apparently dissatisfied. At last, the boy settled on a long handled, short bladed sword. Once he moved into the light, Tobduk could see the blade more easily.

It was a two sided weapon, designed specifically for battles against single and multiple opponents. Tobduk remembered it was a creation of Hydraxon. Zaeron began to swing it around. He was lucky he was so tall. In only fourteen years, he was nearly as tall as Toa Lhikan. The blade seemed to move along with him, not so much a tool, but a body part. A lethal prosthesis. For a few minutes, Tobduk watched him from the window. The boy seemed to already know how to wield the weapon. Although, it was more basic attacks and blocks Zaeron practiced. Tobduk decided to go down to see him. Once he made it down, the boy was gone. Tobduk cursed softly. He had hoped to find out how Zaeron knew so much. As he turned to leave, he heard a low voice. "I saw you coming." He looked around, not knowing where it was. "Look up." He did so. Zaeron was standing balanced on the sill of the very window Tobduk had been watching him from. Tobduk struggled not to smile. "Come down please." He said simply. Zaeron shrugged and clambered down. "How did you get up?"

"Makeshift staircase." Zaeron said, and gestured to a set of stacked boxes that led up to the window, completely unabashed. "Well, more interestingly, how did you learn to handle the blade?" Tobduk wanted to know. Things like that could be dangerous in unlearned hands. "I've been breaking into the armory to practice for almost a year now." Tobduk's eyebrows shot up. "You know the possible punishments of that, do you not?"

"Of course I do. That's why I make a point of using your savings to pay off sentries." Tobduk couldn't say he was surprised at that. His particular widgets seemed to vanish a few hours after he was given them. He just sighed and went on to his next question. "How did you learn what moves to go on?"

"A year before the year I just mentioned, Helryx lended me a few tablets on combat. I think she thought I'd just break into the library and read it there, to be honest." Tobduk subdued all other questions. "Let me see the sword." Zaeron threw it to him instantly. Though the look in the young warriors eyes told him he was not pleased with giving up a weapon. A fact that pleased Tobduk immensely. A warrior should never give up a weapon willingly. He examined the black bladed sword. It was very well balanced, and the blade was as sharp as a razor, though nowhere near as thin. He held the blade out for Zaeron to take, which he did. "Your pivot block relies solely on your arm, correct?"

"Yes, master." Zaeron answered, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. Tobduk ignored it. "Move your body so that it goes along behind the blade, giving more strength to your block." Zaeron did so. Tobduk found a long wooden stick to use as a practice weapon. If he was using a real sword, he would cut his student to pieces. He lightly attacked, intending it so that Zaeron would be able to block it. Zaeron did so. As Tobduk soon learned, the boy was a natural with the blade. Most warriors were great because it took years of practice. Others, rarities, could learn simple things and master them within a matter of weeks and move on to more complex things. Zaeron was one of those rarities. Zaeron surprised him by switching to offence. Tobduk got the large stick up in time, though it was cleaved in two by Zaeron's blade. "Next time, you should use a metal pole." Zaeron said, almost tauntingly.

"I suppose we'll start you're training now." Tobduk said resignedly. Zaeron broke into an open grin now. Normally, such an expression would indicate happiness, though with Zaeron, it appeared a slightly animalistic side of him was showing. "For now, start by practicing these five movements." He used a spare sword to give an example. He showed Zaeron a left overhand attack, a right overhand attack, which Zaeron copied. Then, a left and right underhand attacks. Zaeron strung those together with the overhand attacks. He then showed him a simple thrust. Zaeron began to use the five basic attacks in different combos each time. Tobduk sat on a bench to the side, observing the young warrior's progress. After a few hours, Zaeron began to feel the effects of fatigue. I have to keep this up. He thought. The sooner he could learn this, the sooner he would be able to really serve the order. Tobduk watched his every movement. Observing what flaws his student could improve on, and what he excelled. He noticed that Zaeron's thrust slowed down midway. The over hand attacks were a little overpowered. His underhands were almost perfect. He stood up.

"Stop." Zaeron did so immediately. "Your thrust is a little weak. Do that for a little. Then return to the combos." Zaeron improved mere minutes after the conversation. His thrusts were stronger, and were faster then before. After about a half hour, Zaeron began to feel hungry. He swore in is head and ignored it. "Try to use less strength in your overhand attacks. You'll just tire yourself and give your opponent an opportunity to send you to an early grave." Tobduk called out. As Zaeron continued to practice into the day, without stopping, Tobduk began to feel concerned. Concern turned to worry. Worry turned to fear. He walked up to Zaeron. "Stop." Zaeron did so. "I think that's enough for today. You need food and rest."

"I want to continue."

"You'll kill yourself." Zaeron was old enough to know what death was, and Tobduk wanted him to not die at such an early stage of life. "If that's what it takes to learn this, so be it." Zaeron snapped. Tobduk walked up to him and wrenched the blade from his hand. "Never speak like that. Ever. We have years to do this, Zaeron." The Hau covered face looked up at him. Tobduk saw something in his eyes, something that could be dangerous to everyone around the boy. A slight berserker instinct. Zaeron had a berserker waiting inside him. Something that Tobduk would have to teach him to suppress. "We will continue. Tomorrow. For now. Go find some food and go to bed." Refusal was on the tip of Zaeron's tongue, but then he saw he reason behind Tobduk's words. He would be of no use to the order dead. He calmed himself down and walked off to the mess hall of the base. As much as he desired to go back and continue, his body simply was incapable of continuing. At least until the next day. He stopped at the mess hall and ate a brief meal of Rahi poultry. Afterwards, he went for a walk through the base. He watched a couple members of the order leaving on a mission. He sighed. He wanted to be that. ''How many years of training did they go through? Hundreds? Thousands?'' He shuddered. "I just can't wait that long." Zaeron murmured.

"Impatient?" A female voice said behind him. Zaeron turned slowly. The Toa that he beheld was none other then Helryx herself. "Yes." He said, slightly bitterly. He expected that Tobduk would chew him out for not respecting authority very much, but he really didn't care. "Don't worry. From what I hear, you won't have to wait to long before I send you away." Zaeron looked up at her. She was taller then him by a half a head. "Zaeron, I have something for you." She said. His attention span lengthened greatly. Helryx pulled out a small package. Zaeron took it, nodded his thanks, and opened it. Inside was a kanohi mask, though it was unlike any mask he had ever seen. It was a dark ebony color, had narrow eye slits, and angled upwards in a slight arc. Deciding it would be smart not to cause an unintended insult by asking what it was, Zaeron slowly removed his Hau and replaced it with the new mask. A feeling of calm swept over him. Followed by a smaller surge of power. "Thank you." He said, but Helryx was gone.

Later that night, Tobduk reported his sighting of a Berserker instinct in Zaeron's eyes to Helryx. "I need him to know how to suppress it before I can teach him anything else." Tobduk told her. Helryx nodded, trying to keep the volcano of worry inside her from showing. "To be perfectly honest, it is strangely reminiscent of Geliax's habit of going insane in a fight." Tobduk reflected aloud. "In which case, start early tomorrow morning. I don't want another death because of that trait." Helryx ordered. Knowing he was dismissed, Tobduk left the room. Helryx buried her face in her hands. She lost Geliax, she would not lose Zaeron. Life for her son gained a mechanical style. Each day, he would awake, eat a short breakfast, and then spend seven hours of training with Tobduk. Then he would eat again, and go to sleep. Then the cycle would repeat. With each day, Zaeron's prowess in combat grew. Yet still, Helryx did not think it was enough. It took three years for her to decide what to do. She then remembered a warrior Geliax had introduced her to. His skill with the blade was nearly unmatched, and he even taught Helryx a few things. She got up to tell Tobduk of her plan.

Warrior to Housekeeper
Zaeron awoke. Moving near mechanically, he stood up and walked for the mess hall where he would eat a quick breakfast. He ignored a group of other early risers that glanced at him more then once. How annoying. He reflected. Once he had finished his meal, he stood up to leave. He slowly walked towards the training area he and Tobduk used. Something was off today. The few order members who were awake at this hour were nervous, as though they were afraid that they could be kicked out of the order at any moment. As Zaeron soon discovered, that was the exact case. When he entered the training area, he saw Tobduk speaking to Helryx. Zaeron gulped quietly and kept his position. Helryx noticed him and waved him forward. He cautiously moved forward. "Well, Zaeron, it seems I will not be training you any longer." Tobduk said in an almost regretful tone. Something like a mixture of joy and apprehension rose within Zaeron. "Will I be going into active service?" He asked. He had expected at least another four years of training. "No." Helryx answered. A pang of disappointment shot through him. "Instead, you will be passing into the care of another teacher." Helryx continued. Zaeron cocked his head to one side. "Tobduk has taught you all he knows about combat. Now, you will need to learn stealth skills and things like tracking and hunting." Zaeron's confused look asked a silent question. Why?

"I'm not going to have you become a soldier. Instead, I'm making you an assassin." Helryx concluded. Zaeron seemed a little saddened. "But, I had hoped I would be a soldier in times of war."

"This way, you will be more of a help than any soldier ever could be. You will undoubtedly have to fight in a war someday, though that is why I'm giving you this duty."

"And what would that duty be?"

"You will use the skills your new teacher will teach you to stop wars from happening. An assassin who kills for a cause." Zaeron seemed to ponder the appointment. After a few moments, he nodded slowly. "Where is this new teacher?"

"On an island west of here. When you get there. I'm having a couple of our members escort you to the island upon which your new master works." Zaeron nodded and walked over to the armory for his sword. He had used the same sword for the course of his three year training. Tobduk pulled out a strap of Tahtorahk hide and gave it to his former apprentice. Zaeron wrapped around his waist and put his sword through it. Tobduk sighed and gestured Zaeron to follow him. The pair walked towards the harbor of Daxia. A lone small boat was docked there. "Well, I suppose I won't be seeing you for a long time." Tobduk said. "Yes. When I get back, I hope I'll be able to say that I'm able to hold my own against my old teacher." Tobduk looked disgruntled. "Who're you calling old?" He said. It took Zaeron a moment to realize he was joking. Zaeron smiled and held out his fist. Tobduk knocked it with his own and left. Zaeron turned. Two members of the Order of Mata Nui could be seen manning it. He took a deep breath and walked towards it. One of them, a toa, looked up. "Aator, our guest is here." Zaeron looked past him to see a Bohrok walking towards them. His hand jumped to his sword briefly, but the Toa held up his hands and jumped in the way. "Don't do that. He's one of us." As the Bohrok came closer, Zaeron could see the Krana inside. He jumped when it spoke. "Indeed I am, you don't need to try to stab me." Zaeron examined the Bohrok shell. It had been outfitted with blades and some sort of ranged weapon he cared not to know what it was called. The Toa looked at me. "I'm Atraks."

"Zaeron." He quickly examined his escort. The Toa was adorned in silver and black armor, not unlike his own. Zaeron was slightly taller than him. The Krana was a Krana, and the shell had a large amount of weaponry. "Come on, I'll show you the ropes." Atraks said. "Ropes?"

"It's an expression for showing you what to do." Aator said. Zaeron wondered what he was being shown. It turned out he would have to learn how to man a gun on the front of the boat. It wasn't to hard to use, though turning it was hard, as it was heavy. Shortly after he had learned how to use it, they set sail. The trip was brief, as the ship was fast. Zaeron was forced to wipe his eyes on several times for waves continually splashed the deck. After about seven hours, their destination came into view. A small, mountainous island lay before Zaeron's eyes. The ship stopped. Zaeron turned to Aator. "Why are we stopping? The beach is right there."

"Our instructions are that you have to swim from here." Zaeron's face fell. "It's true!" Atraks called from the wheelhouse. Zaeron groaned and walked up to the prow. "When you get their, climb the smallest mountain. When you get to the top, you'll see a small fort. Go there." Zaeron cursed and leapt from the prow. The water was frigid, and his armor made it difficult to swim. It took some time, but he was able to make it to the shore. When he stood up and looked behind him, the ship was already turning around. He looked for the smallest mountain. It did not take long to find, though it was rather far away. He sighed explosively ad began to walk. The beach soon became forestry. Zaeron used his sword to cut through any vines or large leaves that got in his way. As he walked, the forest grew evermore dense and he found it difficult to see very far ahead of him. He hacked at a vine a few meters away from him, and it snapped back and hit him across the throat. He swore repeatedly as he fell from the shock. For a few minutes, he lay there and massaged his neck. Then he stood and continued on. The forest didn't go on for much longer, and Zaeron soon found himself at the base of the small mountain. Luckily, it didn't go up at to steep of an angle, and he was able to begin a slow upward walk. On a few different occasions, he would trip over a rock and roll down a short distance. When at last he reached the top, he looked around for a short while, in search of the fort Aator had mentioned. When he could not see it at first glance, worry set in for a moment. Please tell me I didn't climb up the wrong mountain. He thought. Slightly irked, he kicked a small rock down the mountain. Instead of hearing the sound of rock clattering on rock, he heard a loud Clang!

"What in the...?" He looked down and saw the very fort he had been searching for. He sighed and began a decline down the mountain. Going down proved to be easier then going up, though he had to avoid any rocks that he might trip over and cause him to fall. Once he made it down, he began to walk towards the gate. He paused and looked around. He could see a very tall keep over the gate, so that could mean he would meet more then just his new teacher. He attempted to open the gate, but it was locked. "Well, I doubted it would have been easy." He examined the gate more closely. There weren't any obvious handholds for climbing. Deciding he would take a more aggressive approach, he slammed himself into the door. Once the world stopped spinning, he found himself on the ground. He tried a vast array of methods for getting past the door, including using a dead tree to pole vault, use a vine for a zip line, and even trying to dig under it. I wonder if the door is sentient. He thought. He walked up to it. "Um, door. Please open." Nothing. Frustrated, he knocked his fist against it. It opened at once. He hung his head, shook it, and walked in. Before he made it four steps, a knife slammed into the ground near his left foot. Reacting instinctively, Zaeron flung himself over to the side hand drawing his sword in the same movement.

"Who's there?" He called, pointing his sword out and slowly motioning it around, trying to gain a sighting of whoever had flung the knife. Seeing no one, he took a few tentative steps forward. He glanced around, not wanting to take a dagger in the head. Or any part of my body, for that matter. He thought grimly. He walked forward cautiously, glancing this way and that as he went. He was able to make a quick mental map of the fort. There was a building in the center, presumably for living, and a smaller one to the right of it. He guessed the smaller one was a forge, as he noticed black smoke coming out of the top when he moved closer. Walls surrounded the too buildings. As he walked toward the smaller building, a light buzz filled his ears. Realizing what it was, he jumped into a backwards summersault. He looked up and saw two daggers embedded in the earth. Zaeron looked at the angle of the daggers, hoping to be able to determine where they may have been thrown from. Following the angle of the handles, he saw that they appeared to have been thrown from the roof of the main house. He noticed a slight shimmer in the air.

Normally, he would have taken this to be a simple mist, but under the circumstances, it would not surprise him if he were against an invisible enemy. His eyes traced the shimmer, hoping for there to be some movement. None came. Slowly, without taking his eyes from it, he moved towards one of the thrown knives. Ever more slowly, he leaned down to pick it up. The shimmer moved slightly. Zaeron's fingers clasped around the handle of the blade. In a single, fluid motion, he brought his arm back and flung it forward, releasing the knife as he did so. The shimmer, to his surprise, vanished and was replaced by a tall, lightly armored Vortixx male. The Vortixx easily caught the knife and leapt down. He was taller then Zaeron, and was armed with a wicked looking silver sword. "Lesson one. Always look up. It's the direction most forget to check."

"Are you at least going to introduce yourself before lecturing me?" Zaerron asked, a little annoyed. "Clearly not, as I have yet to tell you my name and I have already given you a lesson that may save your life. Come." His voice was so commanding that Zaeron submitted and followed him. The warrior took him inside the larger building. The Vortixx turned. "As your new teacher, I have full rights to do anything I believe will increase your chances of survival. You will do so without question. Understood?" Zaeron nodded numbly. "Now then, the room on the far right of that hallway is yours. You will keep it clean at all times. Go there, and place your weapons inside. Then return to me." Zaeron began to slowly walk down the hall. "Mind the noise level of your footsteps!" The Vortixx barked.

It took Zaeron a great deal of effort to do so, as whenever a noise more then a creak in the floor sounded, his new teacher would repeat the order. Once he made to his chamber and placed his sword inside, he slowly and quietly returned. "Now. Start cleaning this place up." Zaeron's jaw dropped. He had expected to learn new combat types and techniques of killing. He had not expected to become a housekeeper. "Hop to it!" The Vortixx snapped. Dumbly, Zaeron began picking up any stray bit of trash on the floor and putting it inside a waste bin. ''He had better be satisfied for what I do here. When I'm done, he'll be slipping over flat surfaces. This shouldn't take long.''

As it turned out, it took him a lot longer to clean the building then he thought. Some of the chores were downright dangerous. One of which involved feeding the Vortixx's pet, a Kahgarak. He was even required to cook his mentor's meals. All the while, the vortixx forced him to stay silent through each of the tasks. After days that felt like weeks, the steady stream of chores came to an end. The Vortixx relented in his apparent desire to turn Zaeron into a housekeeper. "I have to admit, this place has never been cleaner." The Vortixx said, though somewhat reluctantly. Zaeron kept his silence. The Vortixx smiled suddenly. "You have passed your first test."

"Test?" Zaeron said confusedly. "Yes. You needed to be able to keep your silence through frustrating and dangerous situations. It is a skill that will undoubtedly save your life if you should be ready to go off on your own. Zaeron did not miss the if. It did nothing to improve his foul mood over the chores being a test. Though the logic did make sense. "You will have to feed the Kahgarak each day in the morning however." Zaeron wanted die.

"Tomorrow we will move on to combat skills. I would like to evaluate whether or not I should teach you more. Go now and rest. You shall need it." Zaeron inclined his head slightly and walked off to his room. What sort of torture will he have planned for tomorrow?

The Wings of Death Learn to Fly
Zaeron slept a dream filled sleep. His dreams began as nightmares. ''He saw himself running from his mentor, who held two leashes. One of which was wrapped around the neck of a Tahtorak. The other was around the tail of the Zivon. The two monsters bore down on him, fangs and claws inches from his eyes.''

The dream changed. ''A lone, tall warrior climbed up a large set of stairs. The area appeared to be a desert. Sand blew in all directions as the orange sun set in the distance. A few torches were set along the ascending staircase. The warrior was clad in black and silver armor. Zaeron could see a dagger on each side of his waist. Strapped across his back has a wicked silver sword. A sword that look disturbingly familiar. That is my mentor's blade. Zaeron realized with a jolt. He had no doubt that the Vortixx was a legendary swordsman, else he would have stayed with Tobduk. The warrior's head turned ever so slightly to the right. A split second later he dropped to one knee as an orb of green light passed over his head. Three large brutes stepped out of shadows cast by the torches.''

''One was holding a sphere of emerald energy in his hands. The other two wielded a strange hybrid of a spear and an axe. The warrior did not move for his sword, instead, he took a single step towards the group. The three tensed, expecting a fight. The warrior did nothing. The moments that followed were long and excruciating. The three other warriors seemed to decide to act first. One of them began to make his way toward the warrior, holding his staff out as he went. The lone warrior moved with such speed none of his three opponents had time to move. The one who had moved towards the quick one was slain by a knee in the face. The warrior snatched the staff from him mid jump and flung it at the other staff-wielder. The weapon met its target as it flew into and through the unfortunate soul's chest. The second dead one fell back, the handle of the staff protruding from his heart stone. The warrior landed and rolled, so to avoid being struck by a sphere of green light. The warrior jumped again, this time at the one he had impaled. He used the tip of the staff's handle as a stepping stone, allowing him to jump higher into the air. He raised his left hand and a blade popped out of the bracer he wore. He bore down on his final opponent, who died quickly as the wrist blade pierced through his right eye.''

Zaeron awoke with a start. He shook his head, as though trying to shake off disorientation. He pulled himself from his bed, minding to make as little noise as possible. He slowly and quietly made his way out of the house. He sighed as he saw that the Kahgarak was awake. He made his way towards the large basket filled with strips of roasted rahi. He grabbed three of them and tossed them towards the giant spider. The creature messily devoured each in a second per. Zaeron made his way back to his room so he could find his sword. He could find no trace of his teacher, so he remained as quiet as he could. He made his way out to the training ring. Still seeing no one, he decided to practice the skills Tobduk had taught him.

He did so for nearly an hour before he noticed a familiar shimmer in the corner of his eye. Focusing all of his attention on that, he pointed his blade to it. "Not exactly trying are you?" He said to it. Almost in response, he felt something cold and sharp on the back of his neck. "That would depend on whether or not I was using the camouflage." He recognized the voice to belong to his mentor. Zaeron lowered his sword and turned. Behind him stood the tall, imposing Vortixx. Zaeron backed away a few steps.

"Lesson two. Use the environment to your advantage."

"How did you do so?"

"A simple steam, created by using hot rocks and a bowl of water." The Vortixx said. Zaeron looked at it, and noticed a sliver bowl a few feet beneath the shimmering steam. "Let us begin." The Vortixx said behind him. Zaeron's body reacted instinctively, and he ducked. The Vortixx's silver blade passed through air above him. Zaeron swung with his own, expecting his opponent to try and dodge. Instead, his teacher stepped forward and grabbed his sword arm and flung him off to the side. Zaeron landed against the edge of the training ring with a resounding ''crash! ''

Zaeron pulled himself up, shaking his head to rid himself of the disorientation. "I am Miolhin." The Vortixx said, walking over. "I assume you already know my name." Zaeron said, struggling to keep his voice at a monotone. "Never assume anything, though you are right." Once the Vortixx was next to him, Zaeron lashed out with his sword, aiming for Miolhin's thigh. The Vortixx stepped back and kicked at his student, his foot connecting with Zaeron's gut. Zaeron collapsed. "Here, let me help you." Miolhin said, holding out his hand. Zaeron took it.

Miolhin pulled him halfway up, then slammed his fist down on Zaeron's face. "Remember, your opponent will never fight fair." Miolhin said, bending over his collapsed apprentice. Zaeron lashed out with one hand and punched Miolhin in the side of the head. "Good advice." Zaeron said with a slight snarl, throwing calmness to the winds. Zaeron picked up his sword and charged. Miolhin let his own blade clatter to the floor, and took two steps forward. He grabbed Zaeron's shoulder with one hand and slammed his other down on Zaeron's wrist. The black blade Zaeron wielded fell from his hands. Miolhin released his student. "You will go to the study next to your room and find the book on swordplay. Spend the rest of today studying the Combat forms and deciding which you must master. Go." Numbly, Zaeron left the ring, picking up his weapon as he went.

When he made it to the study, he realized it was more then just a study. It was an enormous library. It took him about ten minutes to find the particular book he was looking for, as the section on combat took up almost half the library. He found it quite interesting to read, learning about types of sword fighting and warriors who used them. He spent almost four hours reading it. Eventually, he settled on the forms he wished to learn, and flipped the book over to the table of contents. Most of the book was about combat styles, but one particular chapter title drew his eye. It read; The Blood Summoner.

He was about to flip over to that page, when a voice stopped him. "Don't." He looked up and saw Miolhin. "You do not want to know what that chapter contains."

"What is it?"

"Not what. Who. Trust me and do not read it." Zaeron suppressed a snort. After the days events, he was not inclined to trust anything the Vortixx said. "I was misfortunate enough to do battle with him once. I barely escaped with my life, though the effects he left upon me still carry their effect today." At that point, Zaeron saw a long, white streak that ran up one of the Vortixx's legs, up his torso, along his neck, and up and over his head. "He must have believed me dead, else I would not be standing here." Miolhin shuddered slightly (Which spoke volumes to Zaeron) and walked out. Zaeron glanced at the chapter's name, tempted to read it anyway. Wouldn't he be more prepared knowing what it was? Wouldn't he be more ready to combat the being if he knew about it?

Then he put the book back. He wasn't going anywhere for the time being, so we would not need to know. For now.

The next day, he got up and practiced the movements of the Combat forms he had chosen to master. He was so eager to begin, he nearly forgot to feed the Kahgarak. He practiced for almost an hour when Miolhin snuck up behind him. "Be done for now. I have a new skill you need to learn." Zaeron followed the Vortixx back to the house and then into the basement. There sat a large, strange looking article of machinery. "Dare I ask what this does?" Zaeron said carefully. "No. Step in." Zaeron bit back a sigh and stepped inside it. In a second, his vision went black, and he saw nothing. Then, he saw a group of seven Skakdi, each armed to the teeth with weapons. "Fight." Miolhin's voice said in his ear. The Skakdi charged at him, shouting savage war cries.

Zaeron's hand flew to his sword. He drew it in a single swift motion and cut through his first attacker. He then ducked under the blade of another and stabbed him through the chest. As he did that, a third skakdi came up behind him an smashed a mace into the back of his head. His vision returned to darkness and he found himself in the basement again. "You were too slow I'm afraid."

"What in Mata Nui's name was that?!"

"A combat simulator. I myself developed it. Now, here is a weapon that will make it easier to fight large groups of enemies." He held out a dagger. Zaeron took it. "Hold with an underhand grip. Remember, strike first, strike fast." Zaeron stepped back in. When he stood facing the Skakdi, their numbers had doubled. He drew his dagger and lunged into them. He quickly stabbed the first in the heart stone, felling him instantly. Then he sidestepped to another and slashed him across the throat, drenching him in scarlet blood. The remaining twelve backed away slightly. He gave them, no respite. He lunged into their midst again, killing two and removing the left foot of a third. He then used a combination of his sword in one hand and his dagger in the other to finish off the rest. He was sucked out of the machine. "Good. You seem to excel with a knife. Spend the rest of today with this machine, fighting increasingly large waves. Once you have made it to and defeated forty nine, report to me." Zaeron jumped back into the machine, this time confronted by twenty one foes. The fight that ensued was long and tiring, though eventually, he was able to defeat the last. At thirty six foes, he was defeated quite quickly.

He continued to try to defeat thirty six, and was constantly thrown back down. It then came to him that the machine was a learning machine. It was prepared to defend against his tactics. Realizing this, he jumped in, ready to try something else. When he was confronted by the thirty six, he waited. The Skakdi foes seemed confused for a moment, then attacked him. He began to use lethal counterattacks to turn the tide of the battle. After what felt like ages, he defeated them. From that time, he used different strategies each time he entered the machine. It was late in the evening when he was able to report to Miolhin. "Ah, Zaeron, I see you have discovered how to fight large masses at a time."

"Indeed, what have you for me now?"

"You must learn how to survive against a single opponent, one with equal or more training. Climb the second highest mountain tomorrow morning. Then your next lesson will begin."

When the morning came, and Zaeron had made it to the top of the mountain, he saw a somewhat appalling sight. A large lake lay before him. It was frozen, and his master stood in the middle. "Come." Miolhin's voice rang out. Zaeron cautiously made his way out to his master. When he was a few steps away, Miolhin swung his wicked looking silver blade at Zaeron's arm. Zaeron flung himself to the ice just in time. Zaeron instantly had his hand on his sword. "I lied when I told you about your next lesson. This is the new one; be ready for anything." Zaeron drew his sword. "Keep your footing. A fall can mean one of two things." Miolhin said. Even has he said it, The ice Zaeron stood upon began to feel slippery under his feet. He would have to be careful about where he stood, and defend himself from his now attacking master. He raised his sword and was barely able to block an overhand strike. ''His strength is incredible. How long has he been doing this?'' Zaeron thought.

Miolhin continued to attack him. Zaeron was forced to resort to dodging instead of blocking. He would often slip on the ice, and would nearly be struck by Miolhin's blade. Then he thought of what would happen if he used a fall to his advantage. He waited for Miolhin to strike, then flung himself at the ice. He slid into his master's shins and caused him trip. Zaeron rolled to his feet and pointed his sword at Miolhin. "I win."

"No you haven't." Miolhin rolled in a circle, smashing Zaeron's legs out from under him. Miohin placed one foot on Zaeron's chest. "A fall can be either your saving grace, or your death." He backed away. "It was death today. You will come up here once a week until you know you can balance yourself properly." Zaeron spent the rest of the day practicing on the ice. He's building me a schedule. He realized. Once he was finished. He practiced with the combat simulator for a time. Then he found some food and went to sleep. The next day, he was summoned to the bottom edge of the highest mountain. "What am I to do here?" He asked. "Look closely. What do you see?" Zaeron scanned the mountain. It did not take him long to see what he was supposed to look for. "Handholds."

"Very good. Meet me at the top." Miolhin ran at the mountain and began to climb. "You've got to be kidding me." Zaeron muttered and followed. Climbing, he discovered, came to him as naturally as using a sword. Every now and then he would almost slip, though he learned and recovered quickly. It took him a great deal of time to get to the top, though he made it before the day was out. When at the top, he realized how exhausted he was. "Good. Now, you must learn how to...." He paused, as though unsure of how to describe it. "Run-climb." He settled on. He took Zaeron to the other side of the peak, where there was a set of wooden boards that circled down the side of the mountain. "Do this once a day as well." Miolhin began to leap from plank to plank, much faster then climbing. "Glorious." Zaeron muttered sarcastically. He began to imitate Miolhin's movements, and found it easier then climbing, as his arms would not grow tired. He made it down in under a half hour, though he went straight to bed afterwards.

For another seven days, Miolhin instructed new skills to be learned. Blending in with surroundings was first. Zaeron found this skill easier, as he had often hidden while spying on members of the order leaving on missions. Then came mastery of his elemental power over Shadow. Shadow proved to be a difficult element to master, as he often released to much at once and exhausted him. He then learned disarms in combat, as well as throwing knife skills. On the third say, he was given a strange bracer for his left arm. "What is this device?" Zaeron asked. "Flick your wrist slightly. Watch your fingers. As Zaeron did so and watched, a blade slid out. He felt it with his right hand. The metal was not any metal he knew of. It was harder, and likely stronger, then protosteel. "This is the tool of the assassin. This weapon will never leave you. It is the device that shall keep you alive when now other weapon is in reach." Miolhin told him and flicked his own left wrist. A blade sprung out. "You must blend in with the crowd to use it properly. Though there are different techniques as to using it." He took Zaeron to the practice ring. There were five dummies, each standing next o something. One was next to a curtained window, one on the roof of the house, two near a door, and one in the middle of the ring. "The blade can also be used in combat. It is strong enough to block a sword strike."

"What about an axe?"

"Use your sword."

"What if I'm cornered on the edge of a cliff, I have no weapon but this, and there's a deranged axe-man running at me?"

"Jump off the cliff. It'll be quicker." Zaeron hid a slight grin. He spent that day practicing with his new blade. He found it was the easiest weapon to learn to use. He could string it together with either his sword or knife in combat, or use it as a stand alone weapon, provided he was quick enough. As he practiced with it, his endurance to falls improved, as he was required to leap from the roof of the house onto one of the dummies to "kill" it. After he had learned how to use it, life took on a machine style again. Each day, he would get up, eat, feed the Kahgarak, then spend an hour training each of his skills. He did this each day for almost forty two years.

Revelation
Forty two years later, one would not have recognized Zaeron from the beginning of his training. He was more muscular, was taller still, and wore entirely different armor. His lime green eyes had mysteriously turned black, so nothing set out in his silver and black armor. Each day he practiced each of the skills Miolhin taught to him, and he had perfected each. He was still a young being, but he had the skill of a far older and wiser warrior. One day, he got up and practiced each of the skills. Then reported to his master. "You are nearing the end of your training, Zaeron." Miolhin said. "What would have taken another centuries has taken you only forty-two years. I am impressed." Zaeron inclined his head slightly. Acting normally, though inside, he felt something was off. "Do as you wish for the rest of today. I have a matter I must attend to."

"May I ask what the matter pertains?"

"No. You may not." Miolhin said, not taking time to explain any further, as he normally would have done. Zaeron bowed slightly and left the room. He waited for a few minutes around a corner in the hall until Miolhin left the room. The Vortixx left the house, unaware of the fact his apprentice was following him. My skills of silence must have improved. Zaeron reflected as he followed the Vortixx. Miolhin walked across the island and stopped on the beach. Zaeron wondered if he was simply depressed and wanted to be alone, then he saw the tall, hulking figure Miolhin walked up to. He wore Red and Black armor, and was carrying a spear. Zaeron instantly knew something was wrong. No other being was allowed on the island while he trained. He hid inside a small bush and listened in. His hearing, having been honed greatly through his training, picked up the Conversation. "When will you transport him to Destral?" The being sounded impatient. "In three days time his escorts will come to pick him up. Then I will kill them and bring him to your island." Atraks and Aator. Zaeron realized. "We need him soon. He can be of great use to us."

"Why? You already have Serrakaan. You do not need him."

"When the plan comes into action, his role will be clear."

"Alright. He will be ready for brainwashing when I drop him off. Be patient, Veartax." The hulking figure nodded and was suddenly gone. ''Miolhin's a traitor. He's been training me for another group!'' Zaeron thought angrily. For a moment, he considered confronting Miolhin, then thought; ''I'm tired now, I'll rest through the night. Then, I will kill him tomorrow.'' He watched Miolhin return to the house, then went up to some light forestry and wrapped his light cloak around his chest. He curled into a slight ball and rested his head against a tree. He sighed, contemplating Miolhin's motives. ''Perhaps they paid him off. Maybe it's blackmail. or maybe he believes whatever cause he truly serves is righteous.''

These thoughts troubled Zaeron. Could he really kill someone for what they believed in? More importantly, Could he kill at all? ''I must. The Order must remain a secret. Even if he has not divulged the existence of the Order, he may still.'' He mused. That, and he intends to kill Aator and Atraks. He pushed the thoughts out of his head, closed his eyes, and fell asleep.

The next morning, Zaeron awoke, for a moment, he wondered what he was doing in the forest. Then, he remembered the events of the previous night and was consumed with a determination to put an end to his master's treachery. He strapped his sword to his back, his dagger to his hip, and his hidden knife to is wrist. He shook off all drowsiness and stood up. He walked down to the house, where he saw his master standing in the training ring. "You are late." Miohin said curtly.

"I had to...contemplate something."

"You could have quite easily contemplated something in this building."

"Perhaps it was a matter of trust."

"You do not trust me with your troubles?" Zaeron took a deep breath.

"After the events of last night, I can trust you with nothing." Miolhin looked at him. He stared at him for a few seconds, then sighed. It was a long, worn out sigh. "You followed me then." It was not a question. Zaeron did not answer. "Then you know of my plans to tun you over to Veartax for a new mission."

"Did you tell him about the order?" Zaeron cut in. Miolhin sighed. "No. I had hoped that Helryx would believe you died in an accident, and send me another apprentice to assist you in your mission for the...." He stopped himself. "As you know of this plan, I suppose I will have to make you really die."

"I won't let that happen." Zaeron's hand moved to his sword. Miolhin lunged forward with such speed the duel may have ended then and there, were it not for Zaeron's left bracer, which he used to deflect the blade aside, and then draw his own blade. Miolhin continued the attack, forcing Zaeron to go on the defensive. Miolhin's attacks were so swift, Zaeron had no opportunity to counter them. All he could do then was block and dodge. Miolhin forced him to the edge of the forest. Zaeron took advantage of the trees and flung himself behind one. Miolhin's sword cut right through it, but it gave Zaeron the opportunity to attack himself. He swung his sword in an overhead arc, trying to cleave Miolhin from shoulder to hip. Miolhin stepped to the side and flicked his sword at Zaeron's side. Zaeron jumped back and attacked. He flicked his wrist downward in an attempt to cut out the Vortixx's legs. Miolhin leapt over the blade and sliced at Zaeron's throat. The latter allowed himself to fall back. When he landed, he rolled backwards onto his feet. He raised his sword to block an attack from Miolhin. The force of the attack jarred through Zaeron's arm. He winced, though was still able to kick out at Miolhin. That proved to be a mistake, as kicking through the Vortixx's armor was like trying to kick through a protosteel wall. Miolhin grabbed his foot and flung him into a tree. He heard a loud snap and at first thought it was his back, the realized that the tree had snapped with the force of the throw. He flipped himself backwards and landed on his feet, ignoring his back screaming at him in protest. Miolhin pressed the assault. Zaeron blocked a few more sword strikes and then, to his terror, his sword snapped under the weight of one of the strikes.

He backed away, dodging attacks from Miolhin as he went. Zaeron then realized he was backing into the climb-run course on the mountain. Thinking rapidly, he ducked under another attack and drew his dagger. When he backed into the cliff, he grabbed one of the planks, lifted himself up, and kicked Miolhin full in the face. Miolhin stumbled back, cursing. Zaeron pulled himself up onto it and began climbing up and around the cliff, fully conscious that Miolhin was following him. I'm no match for him up close, so what should- His thoughts were cut short as Miolhin's hand wrapped around his ankle. Miolhin pulled him down off of the plank he stood on, and sent him plummeting towards the earth. Spotting a handhold, he grabbed out at it. His eyes widened with agony as his shoulder dislocated. Despite the pain, he was able to one-handedly pull himself up. He used the handhold to jump onto one of the planks. He grabbed his left shoulder and popped it back in. Barely restraining a howl of pain, he continued to clamber up the side of the mountain.

Praying that Miolhin believed him dead, Zaeron leaped from plank to plank. When he made it to the peak, he found no one atop the mountain. He kept a firm grip on his dagger and glanced around. For nearly five minutes, nothing happened. He turned to see if his master may have descended down the mountain. As he looked over the edge, his keen hearing heard a devilish buzz in the air. He flung himself to the ground as a knife flew over his head. The blade fell to earth as Zaeron raised his dagger in a defensive position. Miolhin jumped from a shadow, holding his sword aloft in his right hand, a dagger in the left. Zaeron flung himself forward. Miolhin raised his sword to stab his former pupil. Zaeron rolled at the last second, which was a second to late. The razor sword cut through the armor on his shoulder and drew blood. Miolhin did not escape the encounter unscathed. The Vortixx glanced down and saw Zaeron holding his dagger, which was plunged hilt deep into Miolhin's right thigh. Using his left leg, he kicked his apprentice away. Zaeron landed heavily on his wounded shoulder, causing him to release a cry of pain. Miolhin pulled the dagger out and flung it at Zaeron. The latter caught it in midair by the tip of the blade and threw it back.

Miolhin didn't see the move coming, and and tried to dodge a nanosecond too late. The blade pierced his elbow joint and exited out the other side, rendering his sword arm useless. Miolhin drew his hidden blade and ran forward, despite the agony he felt in his leg. Zaeron grabbed his left arm with both hands, stopping the blade a very short distance from his right eye. Miolhin's strength was overwhelming, and it was merely with a single hand! It was all Zaeron could do to keep from becoming food for the Kahgarak. Almost by accident, he noticed Miolhin's sword lying only a few feet away! In his mind's eye, he saw the ground behind them was not rock, it was a bush. Mata Nui, thank you for my memory. He thought. He slowly lowered his head, just so that the blade would go over him, the pulled. Miolhin was caught off balance and stumbled forward. Zaeron dived between his legs and grabbed his opponent's sword. It was surprisingly light, for a blade of it's appearance. He jumped at Miolhin, who had pulled his arm from the shrubbery, and struck. Miolhin's hidden blade cracked in half under the weight and strength of the blow.

Miolhin glanced at his shattered weapon for less then a second. Then, he grabbed Zaeron and flung him off the edge of the mountain. The Vortixx let out a small sigh of relief and sadness. Zaeron, however, was not finished. He had grabbed ahold of a couple handholds that he had practiced climbing with. He released his own hidden blade and stabbed upward. The blade entered the small of Miolhin's back, piercing through the Vortixx's armor and exiting, ever so slightly, out Miolhin's stomach. Blood seeped from the wound and dripped onto Zaeron's hand. The young assassin hauled himself up and ducked under a punch from Miolhin, swung around him, and kicked him with all of his strength. The blow jarred up his legs and caused him to fall to his knees. But, it was sufficient to cause the Vortixx to fall from the mountain. Zaeron withdrew his hidden blade and picked up Miolhin's silver sword. It felt right in his hand, more so then the blade his former master had broken. He strapped it to his back and picked up his dagger, which Miolhin had pulled from his arm, and sheathed it at his waist. He wiped his left hand off on the bush, staining the plant scarlet.

Then, he began the slow descent down the mountain. He felt as though a weight was suddenly lifted off his shoulders. ''I can go back to the order now. Now I can fight.'' He thought with some pleasure. When he made it down the mountain, he saw Miolhin's mangled body. He sighed sadly. He crouched down next the corpse. "Oh, you poor soul. For whatever reason you sided wrongly, I am truly sorry for what I had to do." He leaned forward to shut the Vortixx's eyes, when he realized, to his shock, that the eyes were watching him. Miolhin silently pleaded for his old apprentice to end his suffering. It then came to Zaeron what unimaginable pain Miolhin must have been in. For a moment, he was tempted to stand up and leave. That would make me no better then his traitorous self. He thought and drew the hidden blade and gently, but firmly, pressed it into the dying being's heart. Now I have killed one. He thought.

Worst Reunion Ever
"Hmm.....Well, I'm rather stunned that Miolhin was a traitor. You did good work killing him." The Hologram of Helryx said. Zaeron stood in Miolhin's office, where a hologram projector lay. He was rather surprised to find it, as Miolhin had elected to meet Veartax in person. He nodded. "How shall I get off the island?"

"I'm sending Atraks and Aator two days early. They should be there within a few hours." Zaeron nodded and the transmission ended. He departed the building. He walked over to the training ring, where he grabbed one of the torches that normally lit the ring. He flung it at the house, which slowly began to burn. He turned to look at the Kahgarak, which watched the flaming building with slight interest. He moved over to the large spider, which turned to look at him. "You're free. Go. Do as you will." The creature understood, and turned tail and stalked off. Zaeron never saw it again. Zaeron began a slow walk to the beach, taking in what was his last few hours on the island that was his home for nearly half a century. He sighed, a light wave of regret washing over him. Soon it was replaced by anticipation. ''No more training. From now on, it's real. If I make the wrong mistake I die.'' he told himself as he made it to the beach.

Instantly he saw the same boat that had dropped him off forty two years ago. It was the same distance away, so he knew he would have to swim out again. He slowly waded out to neck level and bean to swim. As his strength had improved greatly since the last time he had seen the ship, he was there far quicker than the last time. Atraks leaned down and pulled him back up. "Mata Nui you're heavy." He said with a grunt of effort. Zaeron shook himself off once he'd made it to his feet. "Perhaps it's the armor." He said as he wrung out his cloak. Looking back, it was probably due to his increase in strength that he did not notice how much the armor must have weighed. He looked up to see Aator in the wheelhouse.

"So what's I miss?" He called up. "The same thing that happened when you were around." Zaeron assumed he meant a rare new member of the order and a few secret operations. "How soon until we make it back?"

"Maybe four hours, there hasn't been much weather issues recently, so I think we can afford to relax for now." Aator answered and began to pilot the boat away. Zaeron took a wistful last look at the island, then headed into the cabin, where he settled himself into a chair and fell asleep.

Torment. Torment was what his dreams brought him. He continually relived his duel with Miolhin, and killing him. He saw the Vortixx's dying expression again and again. His mentor's blood covering his hand. Then a loud bang brought him from his nightmares. He woke to the sound of explosions and yelling. Instantly awake, Zaeron drew his sword and ran out to the deck. A group of Skakdi stood engaged in combat with Atraks. "Zaeron! Keep them away from the wheelhouse!" Aator's voice sounded. He looked up and saw the Kohrak-Kal armor fling a Skakdi out the wheelhouse window and into the sea. A few of the Skakdi noticed him, and charged in his direction. He ducked under the first one's blade and slashed at his stomach. His sword was instantly covered in blood as the Skakdi fell, clutching at his stomach in a vain attempt to stanch the flow of blood.

The others began to form a circle around him. His mind quickly focused on them. One charged at him, brandishing a large battle axe. He jumped around the warrior and stabbed backward. His blade struck something, so he reflexively pulled forward and cut through a second as it charged him. He turned to see that six of the warriors remained. He quickly sheathed the weapon and picked up the axe. Using both hands, he threw it between two of them and struck one of the Skakdi attacking Atraks. Not giving his own opponents and opening, he grabbed his dagger and jumped towards one. He leaned backward to avoid his sword strike and stabbed him through the back of the neck, killing him instantly. Using the body as a shield, he blocked another's mace strike and stabbed forward, the dagger piercing through it's right eye and into it's brain. It writhed in the agony of death for a few seconds and began twitching. Zaeron yanked out the dagger and flipped in his hand. Catching it by the tip, he threw it at another and drew his sword. All this happened in the span of ten seconds.

The remaining three Skakdi eyed him cautiously. An unusual trait for a Skakdi. Zaeron thought and lunged forward. Before the first could react, Zaeron slashed him across the neck, spun, and stabbed him through the chest. The next, who wielded two blades, tried to go for an overhand attack. Zaeron blocked it, blocked another, then used his hidden blade to stab up through the Skakdi's chin and out through the top of his head. Withdrawing the blade, he kicked the corpse into the final Skakdi, and sent them both tumbling off the edge. He turned and saw Atraks use one of of his blades to finish off his final attacker. Zaeron moved over to the Skakdi whom he had killed with his thrown dagger. He picked it out and flipped the blood off the blade.

"Who are they?" He asked, inspecting the body. "I'm guessing Skakdi pirates." Aator called down, and Zaeron noticed him pointing. He followed Aator's gaze and saw a group of three boats, each of which boasted a large group of Skakdi, all of which were bellowing war cries. "Can this thing handle being run into?" Zaeron asked Atraks, who shrugged. "well, we're about to find out." Zaeron said and sprinted up to the wheelhouse. Atraks turned to see each of the three boats was advancing on them. He then jumped when he heard Aator's voice beside him. "Do you think he can drive this?"

"What?" Atraks responded, then felt his gut churn as the boat accelerated greatly. The two Order members soon realized that Zaeron was trying to ram one of the pirate vessels. "Is he insane!?" Aator bellowed. They soon settled on yes, as when the boat collided with the head pirate ship, the momentum flung Zaeron out of the wheelhouse, and into a throng of pirates on their foes' boat. The assassin rolled as he landed and cut down two before getting up. Atraks quickly jumped onto the pirate's vessel, where he used his MAC cannon to blow one away while using his blade to slash open the throat of another. Aator was about to follow when the second and third pirate ships fell in to the sides of the Order members' boat. He elected to stay, and quickly began to fight boarders.

The Captain of the group of ships watched, a little stunned, as the three warriors continually cut his men to pieces. The two aboard his ship completely outmatched his men. Their training must have been of an entirely different caliber. He drew his massive axe and jumped down to join the fight. He charged at the one with the silver mask shouting a savage war cry. He caught the warrior, who turned out to be a Toa, off guard, and was able to strike a glancing blow to his side. The Toa's armor deflected the blow, but he was still winded by the attack.

He struck again, but this time the warrior was able to parry the strike. The Toa attempted to shoot him with the cannon on his arm, but the Captain stepped aside, and the blast killed one of his men. He struck once more, and the Toa collapsed under the weight of the attack. The axe blade slashed open his right arm. The Skakdi cried out triumphantly, and raised is axe for the killing blow. Just as he was about to let the blade fall, a demonic buzz filled his ears, and a dagger blade cut open the tendons in his wrist. He whirled around to see that the remainder of his men lay dead or dying, and the other warrior was charging him, covered in their blood. Luckily for him, his dominant hand was still of use to him, and he flung his axe at the warrior. Instead of dying, his new opponent caught it by the shaft and threw it back.

The Skakdi captain ducked under it and picked up one of his men's swords and raised it to block the warriors sword strike. His enemy didn't bother with another attack, and flicked his left wrist while moving to hit the captain in the stomach. A stabbing pain went through the captain and he realized that his foe had some sort of dagger attached to his arm. He looked down to see the red that blossomed through his armor. Then, another wound was inflicted across his back, as the Toa stabbed him in the back. Both warriors then swung their blades at his neck, and he knew no more.

Zaeron looked at Atraks, who was nursing his wounded arm. "Worst reunion ever, eh? Zaeron joked. To him, everyone could use some positivity when their arm had been slashed open. A few screams coming from their own boat indicated that Aator was busy with the other ships. "See if there's anything in their hull to treat that." Zaeron ordered Atraks. Technically, Atraks outranked him, but as Zaeron was uninjured in the fighting, he was superior. Zaeron quickly jumped over to the other boat, sword in hand. He landed on one's back and stabbed downward, the blade entering the Skakdi's neck and destroying his spine. He looked onward to see that in the battle on the boat, Aator seemed to be fighting two groups, both of which were fighting each other.

"Any day now, Zaeron!" Aator yelled while cutting one of the new group, which was an extremely hideous creature, in half. A few of the new creatures spotted Zaeron, and charged him. Zaeron quickly cut them down and flung himself into the throng of warriors killing one another. It was a short skirmish, and ended with a large pile of dead bodies being dumped into the sea by Zaeron and Aator, while Atraks, who had found a medical kit, began treating his arm. "What were those creatures?" Zaeron asked. "Zyglak. The Great Being's worst mistake." Atraks said simply. That was all Zaeron needed to know, so he kept his silence for the remainder of the trip. When they were a single kio away from Daxia, they stopped the boat. "You have to swim from here." Atraks said. Zaeron rolled his eyes and dived into the ocean. Being underwater, he didn't hear Atraks' cry of "I was kidding!"

As he swam through the water, he felt something was very off. It almost felt as though the water was alive. Alive and observing him. The thought of the ocean being sentient made Zaeron's gut churn, and he increased his speed. It was not long before he made it to the shore. He clambered up onto one of the docks. "Hello there." A voice said loudly. Zaeron turned and saw his first teacher Tobduk standing on the dock. "Tobduk." Zaeron greeted and inclined his head slightly. "I see Helryx has yet to send you into field duties. Again."

His old mentor grinned. "Well, I suppose I just enjoy teaching to much. Come, Helryx wants to speak with you."

"Alright. Maybe she can dry me off." Zaeron said, actually hoping he wasn't getting a mission right off the bat, he could have used some rest. As the two walked, he was greeted by a few members he had met briefly in his earlier ears. it wasn't long before he met Hydraxon, who said. "I see you've lost my sword. I guess you'll have to make me a new one." Zaeron eventually realized he was being serious, but let it slide for the time being. When he was near Helryx's office-quarters, a Toa he had never met before greeted him. "Are you Zaeron?" He asked. "Yes." Zaeron responded, wondering who this was. "I am Relyt. I joined about a year after you left."

"Relyt here is making quite a name for himself. Helryx has already made him an advisor to her." Tobduk said. Zaeron looked at the young Toa, surprised. "would you like me to dry you off?" The Toa said, and raised his hand. Zaeron's first thought was a rather terrifying image he'd have to get a Toa of Psionics to erase, but Relyt simpy raised his hand, and for a brief second, Zaeron was bathed in a very bright light. He was dry instantly. "Thank you." he said. "Well, I've kept you here enough, you should go speak to yo-Helryx." Zaeron wondered what the stutter meant, though pushed it out of his mind for then.

Time of Rest, Time of Learning, Time of Guns
Zaeron entered Helryx's quarters, where he found Helryx sitting at a desk. The ancient Toa of water looked up and saw the young assassin. Her eyes seemed softer then normal. "Ah, Zaeron. I trust you are well." He shrugged. "I killed my mentor, and then slaughtered a total of twenty-six Skakdi and fifteen Zyglak. I then had a rather disturbing image accidentally imprinted on my mind. Aside from that, life's fabulous." Helryx let through a small smile.

"For now, you should spend some time resting from your ordeals. Take two weeks to re-familiarize yourself with the base then I have a mission for you." Zaeron nodded and left the room. He headed to his old quarters, which had been saved for him. He hung his sword on a hook attached to the wall then placed his dagger on his bed. He left his hidden blade bracer on, which had practically become a part of him during his training. He removed his left shoulder armor and inspected the wound inflicted by Miolhin, which he had managed to ignore until he'd returned to Daxia.

The wound wasn't as bad as he'd first thought, but it still needed treating. He reattached the armor and headed out to the armory, which also had several assorted disguises. He rooted in the old, unused ones and tore out a long strip of fabric from a tattered cloak. He returned to his quarters and cleaned it with the provided water tap. he then used the strap to dress it. It'll heal in two week's time. He thought.

Zaeron left his quarters and began a slow walk through the base. A heavy wave of nostalgia washed over him as he saw the training ring that Tobduk had instructed him in. The base had been incredibly upgraded since he had left. The weaponry was more advanced, and he was stopped by a voice recognition device on two occasions. When he had completely his self-guided tour, he headed to the mess, where he was greeted by the food distributor, who hadn't changed at all since Zaeron last saw him. He gave Zaeron a meal and the latter sat down at a table and ate in silence.

He didn't recognize a few people who ate, though he noticed a Toa of Psionics on her own in a corner. ''What's her name again? Famiiya, wasn't it?" Looking around an seeing, to his slight dismay, that nearly everyone other then her was with someone else. Finishing his meal, he got up and walked over to her. I'm not interested. A female voice rang through his mind. Remembering she was a Toa of Psionics, he thought; Neither am I. She looked up at him, then spoke aloud. "Rather surprising." She said simply. "Why are you alone?" Zaeron asked.

"Why do you care?" She responded coldly. He sighed. "I won't be around very often, so I'll be alone most of my life. I don't want to see anyone who has an opportunity at having a friend sit on their own in a corner." He said simply. She gave him a look that was a mixture of confused and irked. Then it was her turn to sigh. "A new member chased me. he's still in the medical bay." She said in a tired voice.

"Ah." Mata Nui, how do I respond to that? "Well, if you wanted to be alone, he should have seen that, and no one can blame you for it." She kept a straight face, though she blinked more frequently. "I'm impressed, with you, Zaeron."

"I don't remember telling you my name."

"You don't have to." She said and tapped the side of her head. "Well, it's good to know some of you are not all womanizers." She said and walked away. Will of the great spirit, what was that guy thinking? Any who made a Toa of Psionics angry could expect mind damage for at least a year. He then elected to return to his quarters, and found Relyt waiting outside.

"I see you've met Famiiya."

"Yes, what happened to the being who chased after her?" Relyt shuddered. "We're still trying to put his mind back together."

"I do hope you don't mean that literally." Relyt grinned. "Oh, I don't." Relyt paused, then looked over his shoulder. "If you want to learn any medical skills, meet me tomorrow at the beach on the northern side of the island. You'll probably need them on your missions eventually." Zaeron nodded. As Relyt turned to walk away, Zaeron stopped him. "Why the secrecy?"

"I have orders to let you rest for your short stay here. Although, it wouldn't surprise me if she wanted me to disobey." Zaeron knew "She" was Helryx. He nodded again and walked into his quarters.

The next day, Zaeron awoke and almost thought he was dreaming. Then, he remembered that he had returned to Daxia. He stood up and left is quarters, recalling the conversation between him and Relyt the previous day. It didn't take him long to sprint to the beach Relyt had specified. Relyt stood knee deep in the sea water. "Good, you came."

"You thought I wouldn't?"

"Actually, I thought you'd try to sleep again." Zaeron rolled his eyes. "So, what do I learn first?"

Zaeron spent that day learning how to treat everything from a sword slice to a shotgun blast. He also learned how to revive a drowning being among other things. He returned to his quarters and reflected on what he would have done with these new skills while he trained under Miolhin. He certainly would have tried to heal one nasty sword strike inflicted by Miolhin in a training accident that he still had the scar from. Maybe he would have even tried to heal the Vortixx after their dreadful duel. ''No. That's your guilty conscience speaking. You can't have that interfere with the work you do.'' He told himself.

He spent the next day sparring with Tobduk (Who had had to ask for special permission from Helryx, who had reluctantly agreed). Tobduk's skills had grown extensively, but so had Zaeron. After a long mock duel, Zaeron was eventually able to disarm his first (and favorite) teacher. "You've gotten stronger, Zaeron, m'boy."

"That I have. So have you, old man."

"Hey, I'm not that old." Zaeron grinned. They were interrupted by the appearance of Helryx. "Well, Zaeron, as you've spectacularly failed at relaxing, I have something you can do for us." Zaeron felt an involuntary wave of relief wash over him. "What can I do?"

"One of our scientists, Mersery, has invented a new type of firearm, I'd like it if you could test it with him." Zaeron nodded. "Where can I find him?"

"He'll be waiting for you at the firing range." Zaeron nodded and departed. Having never been to the firing range, he had to ask a member he'd never met before where to find it. It took a few minutes afterwards to get there. When he reached it, a lone, tall, silver warrior stood waiting. "You must be Mersery." Zaeron said as he approached. "And you must be Zaeron." He responded. The Mersion was about a half foot taller then Zaeron, so the latter had to look up into his eyes. "Something tells me you'll enjoy testing this. He said and pulled out a small tube with a trigger mechanism at the end. "This is a gun?" Zaeron asked incredulously. How could a gun be so small?

"Indeed. Please, hold out your left arm." A little hesitantly, Zaeron did as instructed. Mersery pressed the small weapon against Zaeron's bracer, just beneath the hidden blade. "You know, that blade is an ingenious invention, maybe I'll replicate it someday." Mersery mused, to which Zaeron merely shrugged. He then pressed one of the two buttons on it, and the weapon was sealed to the bracer. "It's magnetically attached. Be sure your hand is clear of where it goes, or you'll lose it." Mersery said seriously. Zaeron nodded. "and the other button is to shoot it, yes?"

"Correct. Aim at one of the targets and fire. There's six shots inside." Zaeron aimed and fired. The recoil shuddered up his arm like he'd just parried a sword strike. However, he smiled at the effect it had on the target. A large hole was opened in the center. The next four shots went similarly, but when he fired the sixth, he wished he'd hadn't. The gun shattered, and he found himself flying through the air with the force of the blast that ensued.

Mersery rushed over, terrified the blast may have killed him. But when he found the young assassin, flat on his back, he was laughing. Once Zaeron's hearing cleared he said, still laughing; "You're right, I did enjoy testing it!" A tidal wave of relief crushed Mersery, who helped him up. "You going to rebuild it?" Zaeron asked while picking a piece of shrapnel out of his thigh.

"Yes, I'll have to use a stronger metal, though. I don't want you being blown to bits by your own weapon."

"I can see that would be humiliating." Zaeron joked. Mersery smiled. "If you like, you can come and help me build it. As you're the one who fired it first, I'll need your input." Zaeron tilted his head to one side. "Who's going to get it?"

"What do you mean?"

"What will we do with it? Will it go into mass production?" Mersery shrugged. "I believe it's up to Helryx. Well, I'll need you early tomorrow if you're going to help me build a new one. Meet me in the labs."

"So, will it blow up this time?" Zaeron asked. He'd done as instructed, but had made it before Mersery had. "Well, so long as you don't mix up the magnetic metal and the metal used as the barrel, you won''t be trying to reattach your arm." He said simply. About ten minutes later, Zaeron was holding the barrel for the new gun. "What's it made of?"

"A mixture of protosteel and Iron donated by one of our Toa of that." Having no idea what he meant, Zaeron opted to keep his mouth shut. "Now, hold it out, both hands." Mersery told him. Zaeron did so. Mersery took the trigger mechanism and slowly moved it towards the barrel. Zaeron instantly understood why he'd need both hands, as the magnetic pull was beginning to take place. For about five seconds Mersery continued to move forward, then said loudly; "Drop it!" Zaeron reflexively let it go, and the barrel snapped forward and stuck itself to the trigger mechanism.

"Good! Now, I'll have to do the finishing touches myself, I'll be sure to let you know how it goes." Zaeron looked at the gun for a few moments, wondering how it could help him specifically, then stopped his musing, nodded, and left.

For the next ten days, Zaeron, though he was shamed to admit it, was bored. He found that when he wasn't doing something helpful, he was totally useless. Their was something about going through life-threatening situations daily that made him feel alive. At the end of the tenth day, he heard Famiiya's voice say loudly in his head; ''Zaeron! Get down to the port, now!'' He didn't know what was going on, though something in her voice put him at instant alert. He grabbed his sword and dagger from his quarters, wishing Mersery could hurry with the gun, as he needed the blade bracer to attach the firearm.

When he made it to the port, he saw, to his terror, a heavily wounded Tobduk being helped across the pier by two members. "What happened?" He asked one of them. "No idea!" The member responded. A curse behind him told him Helryx had made it to the pier. "I sent him on a mission to assassinate a Skakdi warlord on Destral."

"That should have been easy for him, what went wrong?" Zaeron asked. She looked a little thoughtful, then said. "This particular warlord has been more trouble of Zakaz then others. He must have swayed many to his side." She continued to ponder for a few minutes. Minutes that during which, Zaeron wanted to steal one of the order's boats and go take the mission himself. Helryx sighed.

"I can see it in your eyes. Prepare yourself, Zaeron. You've got your first mission."

First of Uncountable
Two days later, Zaeron lay inside an elongated tube. It was a submarine designed to take him to Zakaz. He shifted uncomfortably inside the machine. He was loath to have left his hidden blade behind, but Mersery had still needed it to finish off the gun. How long is this going to take? He thought impatiently. He was obliged, unfortunately, to wait three hours. At the end of which, the tube floated to the surface.

The tube opened up, and Zaeron sprang out. He found himself waist deep in water, the beach shores a short distance away. He quickly made his way to the shore, and then into the ruined forest. It was only a short time before a yelp of pain nearly made him jump into a tree. He turned and saw the silhouettes of three Skakdi warriors stabbing something on the ground. Zaeron quietly crept closer. Despite Miolhin's betrayal, the skills he taught him were true enough, so he still used them. With a jolt, he realized that what they were stabbing their pikes into was another Skakdi.

"That's what this one gets for betraying the boss. Let's hope no others follow him, this is the third one this week." Zaeron looked at the end of one of the pikes, and saw that there was a flag on the end. As the Skakdi stood to walk away, Zaeron realized that the flag held the crest of his target. These soldiers work for him. Zaeron thought. He glanced at the dead one's horribly mangled body, and moved over to it. He shut the dead being's eyes and turned to follow the warriors who had killed their former counterpart.

He followed them across the island. The trip, on foot, took two days. Zaeron didn't sleep for either, as the Skakdi didn't as well. On the way, they passed a destroyed city a herd of Tahtorak, and an extremely large pile of corpses. Zaeron steeled himself against the terrible sights and continued to follow the Skakdi. At last, they made it to what looked like it had been a fortress. Now, it was simply a bunch of bricks with spears poking out.

Zaeron waited for the squad to pass through what was left of what he guessed was gate. He observed that their were two guards standing outside the gate, and he could see another four inside. ''There's more for certain. I'll have to improvise.'' He thought and crouched into a small ball, then, he vaulted himself towards one of the guards outside. Before the guard had time to yell out, Zaeron's knee struck him in the face, breaking his neck. Zaeron kept moving and tackled the second guard. The Skakdi's strength and brute force was no match for Zaeron's speed. Zaeron was soon able to wrench the Skakdi's spear from him and stab him through the mouth, nailing him to the wall.

Zaeron scaled the wall on one side of the gate, after a brief encounter with a guard he hadn't noticed, slowly crouch-walked the length of the wall. When he made it to the end, he glanced over the top of the wall. At the bottom, was a tall pole with a Skakdi tied to it. One particularly tall Skakdi stood with a large hammer in his right hand. "So, you believe you could do a better job leading my army, hmm?" The tall one said.

The Skakdi tied to the pole, admirably defiant, spat in the tall one's face. Zaeron realized with a jolt that the tall one was his target. Enraged, the Skakdi leader raised his hammer and smashed it against his prisoner's head. A sickening crack sounded and the Skakdi was still. His target turned to see a few guards watching. Zaeron recognized them as the group he had followed in.

"I want two of you to wait outside my quarters. Keep an eye out for this wretched assassin." The tall one and two of the group left, leaving another three to look at the ruined head. They know I'm here. Zaeron thought. Drawing his dagger, he leapt from the wall and landed feet first on the shoulders of one of the guards. He stabbed into the skull of the one in front of him as the first collapsed beneath him.

Wrenching the dagger from the Skakdi's head, he aimed and threw it into the kneecap of the last. He pounced on the wounded one. "How does he know I'm here? Speak!" He said in a quiet but menacing tone. The Skakdi, stubborn to the end, grabbed Zaeron's hand and bit into it. Suppressing a shout of pain, Zaeron used his other hand to smash the skull of his stubborn prisoner.

Zaeron tore the dagger out of the Skakdi's leg and moved in the direction his target had went. His keen eyesight noticed a tripwire in front of the lone Skakdi guard outside. Recognizing him as one of the guards that had been assigned to protect their leader, Zaeron knew that his target was inside the building. Dagger in hand, Zaeron sprang out into the open and vaulted over the tripwire.

The Skakdi raised his pike, but Zaeron was able to dodge it by pulling his legs up into his chest. He landed behind the Skakdi and kicked him into the tripwire. The Skakdi writhed in pain for a few seconds and was still. As he died, Zaeron saw a slight electrical run through the tripwire. How did he Skakdi get suck advanced technology, and more importantly, who's giving it to them? He thought grimly.

He opened the door and slipped in. In front of him were a pair of extremely sleepy Skakdi. He hid in a shadow. Normally, this wouldn't have done much to hide someone, but Zaeron used his powers over the shadow to keep himself hidden.

"Why are we stuck guarding his quarters? It's only one assassin." One of them complained.

"I know, odds are if he was here, he's probably being used to feed one of the Tahtorak herds." The two guards laughed. How do they know I'm here? Zaeron thought uncomfortably. If they knew about him, he would have to kill every Skakdi in the fortress. Residing himself to that fact, he reached out with his powers of darkness.

A tendril of black mass shot out of one of the shadows. It wrapped itself around one of the Skakdi and pulled him back. A second wrapped itself around the other's head and pulled. The first disappeared forever in one of the shadows, and the other's headless body crumpled to the ground.

Zaeron opened the second door, where he found the Skakdi warlord, his target, lying sound asleep on a small bed. Zaeron quietly drew his sword off his back, and slinked over to the sleeping warrior. Wordlessly, Zaeron raised the blade and brought it down on his target's throat.

Prytak was having a bad day. He had been assigned to feeding his master's pet Tahtorak, the last Skakdi of which fed the beast in a more bloody way then expected, and now, he was required to run a four hour shift guarding the small courtyard. His grumpy reflecting was halted as a few of the other guards were rushing towards the Master's quarters.

He followed, hand on his sword. He met up with another large group of guards that were waiting outside their master's quarters. Each of which had a weapon drawn. Following their example, he drew his own weapon.

Before he died, he knew it was the dumbest thing he'd ever done.

Zaeron one handedly threw his dagger out one of the windows. The blade connected with one of the Skakdi's eyes. Zaeron burst out the window, drawing his sword as he jumped. He landed in the middle of the large group and slashed one from face to gut. He didn't give the other's time to react. He was upon another two, and they soon dropped, one headless, the other screaming and clutching the stump that used to be his leg. One of the Skakdi attacked him, and the others were soon pounding him with everything they had.

The odds of six against one were nothing to Zaeron, however. Five of them were dead in seconds. The last of which performed a very un-Skakdi act and ran. Knowing he couldn't afford to let him escape, Zaeron chased after the Skakdi, who was performing another strange thing and screaming for mercy.

Zaeron steeled himself against the pitiful being's pleas and soon drove his sword in the back of the Skakdi's head, where it protruded from the bridge of his nose. He pulled it out and began examining the base, searching for survivors that he would be forced to eliminate.

Upon finding none, Zaeron then began a slow return to the submarine. He had to sneak past a few fights between rival gangs, and was even forced to let a Tahtorak go loose to distract a few that had discovered his tracks.

When he finally returned to the sub, he found a curious Skakdi looking into it. If he gets in, it'll take him to Daxia. Zaeron thought with a jolt. He drew his dagger and flung it. The blade went through the back of the Skakdi's neck and out the front.

Zaeron numbly pushed the body into the water, remembering to retrieve his knife. Before getting into the sub, he jumped into the water momentarily to wash the blood from those he had killed off of him.