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Wilhelm's eyes narrowed slightly. Thank her? She nearly got him killed! He would've broken free, with time. He would've been captured, brought to the Queen, perhaps, but afterwards, he would've been freed for good. Wilhelm knew very little of the Enforcers' plans to destroy the royalty, so his mind being read would've been inconsequential.

"With all due respect to the Sarasvatis, sir," Wilhelm began to his commander's retreating back, "I could've escaped that situation with little to no problem." But no, he would stay. He had to. There was no other choice...

"And I'm staying, I've already decided." Wilhelm insisted. "We still have a chance of routing the throne, we just have to... plan." He implied that they would do so in a thoroughly underhanded way. To Wilhelm, the ends justified the means. They sort of had to.

But he smirked as his commander vanished from sight. Good, his emotional state was less than desirable, at least, for his case. Wilhelm was pleased, and if he was pleased, that meant that many more were as well. It would soon be time... Very soon.

He just had to pull a few more strings...

When Fenrys finally found his way to his quarters, he did not, as he should've, rest. Instead, he pulled out a series of maps, documents, and rosters, and began formulating a new battle plan. As he pored over the mountain of paper and parchment, he admitted to himself that his original stall tactic probably would not have held forever, and that uniting against a common demon threat would have created a tenuous peace in Zatalia at best. Still, he was now faced with fighting an army nearly ten times the size of his own, and what was more, he had to do it with the enemy in control of the vast majority of the cities resources. As he played out skirmishes in his head, he estimated death tolls (conservatively so) and realized that were every soldier in this war defeated, the total deaths would equate to nearly half of those meant to be interviewed and executed in this first place. He found the prospect of war in Zatalia sickened him, especially since the nation as a whole only possessed a population of about three hundered thousand and mass death would cause panic and rioting, only further hindering the country's already limited productivity. The only outcome he could forsee from this was the eventual implosion of the nation, and the subsequent extinction of humanity as a whole. He couldn't help but smile inwardly, the gods needn't shower the earth with storms of ice and snow to end humanity, they merely needed to turn it upon itself.

Lost in thought, he failed to notice as the Archbishop came wandering through his door, a kindly smile on his face.

"Fenrys, I heard what happened at the palace today. Quite a commotion." Fenrys jumped. He'd forgotten to report to the Archbishop, and today's events were certainly worth informing him of.

"Archbishop! I apologize Your Grace." He paused to kiss a ring and hand that were proffered to him. "I have been incapacitated since I returned from the castle, and new concerns drove me to brainstorm new ideas to keep the throne at bay. Forgive me for not coming straight to you with today's events."

"There was no need Fenrys. Although the tale has been different from every man, what happened in the castle today was nothing short of legend, and as such, has spread like an exceptionally warm wildfire throughout Zatalia. There are many accounts of you fending off a hundred men."

"I-I did sir. I apologize again for that disaster. I meant it to be a political visit, not a warlike one." The Archbishop reached and touched Fenrys' forehead, whispering an archaic prayer that forgave him of his sins.

"While the many deaths were unfortunate Fenrys, they are to our advantage. The crown and it's army must be made to see that if they try to causelessly execute our flock, we will respond in turn with the force of the gods. Whats more, it has sparked a newfound support for the Church. The people finally believe we our sincere in our efforts to protect them. What you did today was nothing short of miraculous."

"If such support will help avert full scale war then I will no longer bear guilt for my actions. Until then, allow me to carry this burden as a reminder."

"You carry burdens of ages my son, you must relieve them eventually. I pray for you and your efforts, but I must be off. There are other matters to attend to."

"Yes, Your eminence." As the Archbishop left the room, Fenrys sighed. He did not loathe the old man, but he certainly held no love for the man that left him to plan and fight his war. His thinly veiled words of kindness did little ease Fenrys' torment, and he doubted whether the Archbishop knew or cared of anything that Fenrys thought or felt. Still, if it killed him, Fenrys was determined to be the savior of a people that, by and large, did not like him at all.

The cathedral walls shook, dislodging years of ashen deposits on the ceiling and walls left behind by the burning of candles and incense, as Ardus smashed the ornate double door entrance open. Many of the precious stained glass settings shattered under the pressure, the broken pieces falling from their vaulted positions down onto the polished cathedral floor or those inside unfortunate enough to have been standing near. Stepping onto the broken pieces of door lain before him, the demon surveyed the room.

"The crown has yet to react to my letter," he thought, "but this must happen now, anyway." As enforcers and clergymen moved towards him, weapons and magical artifacts in hand, their eyes glazed over. The demon's power manipulated their minds' inability to cope with the truth, and as such they all saw the famed Zatalian military commander Sharde, imposing himself upon their sacred ground. The grandiose emblems of royal service shining impossibly bright for nighttime light. A brief shine of moonlight washed over his features, giving him a sickly appearance.

The eyes of those around him glazed over. They all saw this magnificent illusion of their own collective creation, but none of them could tell. The deadened look in their eyes wavered revealing the attacker's true form only instants before their death, as Ardus unleashed his fury in a tempest of blows and bestial claw slashes. Ardus, who had been conserving his energy, overcame their opposition with minimal effort. The day's activities had drained or stressed them. Worshippers and prominent clergymen hurried toward the back, attempting to escape from the sudden violence into the prohibitive cold.

Ardus didn't need to kill them all. In fact, he didn't need to kill at all, so long as the church perceived his presence as an attack by the crown. Spilling the blood over their ornate decorations and shattering them incidentally in the skirmish was an added bonus. With luck, the idiotic humans would play right into his hands.

((Beyond the Wasteland - Nobuo Uematsu))

Not a minute had passed after Andre had laid himself onto the cushions absorbing the meager heat he could from the candles in the room, when what he would have tried to pass as his "rest" was interrupted by the wails of the priestess who had gone from angry to seductive to wallowing in despair faster than most people could go from "feeling okay" to "still feeling okay." "I hope that drink was okay..." thought the nobleman inspired by the priestess' apparent mental instability, shortly before her cries were punctuated by a shaking of the entire structure and the distant, muffled sounds of sudden eruption and cessation of combat, and splintering wood.

Andre lept to his feet. "Fighting? They must be here because of me..." he answered to no one in particular. "But so soon? This is uncanny. I would have doubted that my absence would be noticed until at least the next court session." Still, he gathered his small collection of things and proceeded towards the main hall.

The room was still dimly lit, but when compared to his previous quarters, it seemed as bright as day. Sharde stood at the entrance, confronting Fenrys, a person Andre recognized as the "Pope or cardinal or whatever" and apparently, for some reason, Sati. The girl had seemingly discarded her previous anguish for indignance, directed for whatever reason at the Archbishop. Andre took half a moment to consider what explanation there might be for this, but believing her to be a generally unstable person, he dismissed the train of thought as pointless due to it being a reductio ad absurdum.

The red-headed assemblyman approached the ground, and opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted as Fenrys summoned his blade, the light blurring what he could see of Sharde in a way that it shouldn't have. "Something's wrong; I--" was all he could whisper to himself, before he realized his eyes had been tricked, instinctively fixed the problem, and saw in "Sharde's" place a hulking, lupine beast, towering over the others present. Two huge fangs protruded from the upper half of his bestial maw, and similarly huge bull horns jutted out from the sides of his wolfen head where the temples should be.

----------

Ardus was totally confused by the behavior of these humans. The result of his combat was not the emptying of the cathedral, but rather two more notable men of the cloth approached him and addressed him, or rather Sharde, apparently trying to diminish hostilities if not for the fact that one of them had summoned a sword out of nothing and attacked him, while some priestess told off the other guy for something or other. However, none of those were his immediate concern. Rather, a dull-red-haired man had approached recently, and as he looked at what should have been Sharde, his blue eyes were rapidly filling with signs of mortal alarm. If that were not enough, he bore on the back of his hands two runes that were expressly considered forbidden magic by at least the gods of the demons, if not also by those of humans, and signs that there might be more under his clothing.

At once, Fenrys charged with his blade, unknowingly at the lord of the demons, and Ardus barreled forward towards Andre. Azuresteel sliced cleanly into the demon's shoulder as he forced his way past the captain and collided with Andre, grabbing him and in the process of heaving him over his shoulder, dislodging a vial from his pocket that shattered on the floor, releasing a thick screen of smoke of a pungent, offensive odor. Taking advantage of the moment, Ardus dealt a blow to Andre's head, rendering him unconscious (though Andre did attempt to get his body to stay awake and escape.) The injured demon leapt through one of the holes in the building left in the wake of the destruction of stained glass with his prisoner and ran quickly through the darkness back to the abandoned buildings he had chosen as headquarters.

If he was lucky, Fenrys would have been too caught up in battle to notice that he was not Sharde, although the possibility that one person seeing through his disguise might have broken the enchantment on everyone else did nothing to assuage his fears.

Coros A. LaGoupagous normally would not be out this late. It was nearly midnight, by the position of the half-moon hanging in the sky, shining what meager light managed to poke through the overcast clouds. Following the rotund court advisor were three of his guards, all of similarly bulky build and armored to the teeth such that no part of their skin was visible. Candle, moon, and starlight played on their polished metal like some fantastic light show.

LaGoupagous himself wore brightly, but deeply colored thick clothing, mostly fur, and carried a short, but notably ostentatious silver scepter in his hand. With every other step, his cloak, wrapped tightly around his shoulders, seemed barely to graze the surface of the snow covering the avenue to the castle. He and his guards marched through the smooth, white mush, echoing the oddly syncopated sound of boots pressing through snow, compacting it into ice down down the grid-like streets of Zatalia.

"It's me, guardsman," said the rounded old man, upon arriving at the castle gates. The gate guard opened his mouth to protest, but before he could get a word out, "Come now. The thing their majesties need the most now is my comfort!" LaGoupagous' animated gesticulations in almost pained choreography with his words seemed out of place, set against the unflinching suits of armor behind him. "I will not be long, and I have urgent news for them as well," he continued. His vocal inflections ranged wildly between high to low pitches that devolved into a dirgeful monotone in the distance.

After a brief pause, the gate guard silently waved to his compatriots to open the way. Under normal circumstances, this would never have happened, but this was no ordinary councilman and he was owed many favors. LaGoupagous swept past the gates, as they closed behind him, his three personal bodyguards silently shadowing him. He made his way through the castle halls, asking where he could find the king and queen, though the bloodstained floors made such a pursuit increasingly easier. He certainly did not expect to find Sharde lying on the floor in the care of Misha and an attendant who was clumsily attempting to heal the first of the three through an amateurish series of alternating attempts at healing arts and practical medicine. The brunt of the damage appeared to have happened to Sharde's head, which likely explained why he had not yet been moved, as premature movement of his body could paralyze him from the neck down. "At least," thought the porcine court advisor, "that's what I'd learned from the good doctor..." referencing a late friend of his, whose works had made leaps and bounds in the science of nonmagical medicine, but who had fallen victim to the cold, one hard winter, years ago.

"My gods, Misha!" He cried out, feigning genuine concern with years of practice and experience supporting him, "What has happened here? Will Sharde be all right? Where are the King and Queen? Are they safe?" He would not have mentioned Sharde, if not for the healer's eyes. They betrayed a concentration lacking the concern that came with the treatment of truly critically wounded patients. Had it appeared that Sharde were truly in danger, he would not have dared mention his name, let alone ask his condition. With this, he hoped doubly to remind Misha that Sharde might be perfectly okay and give the impression that he himself was concerned with the well being of others.

LaGoupagous expected nothing less, really. While he had certainly performed admirably in pretending to be honestly interested in Sharde's condition, Misha never had a taste for his presence. At times, he speculated that this may have been due to his giving research-related assistance to Majahual, a magus of lesser standing, and not informing her of the nature of his research--though the latter was hardly his fault, seeing as Majahual himself declined to explain the nature of the research. "Lucky for him," thought the corpulent man, "I kept getting him those books. Some of them were difficult even for me to find."

He watched as Misha and the healer carried Sharde off in a stretcher, after which he turned out from the hall. Had she not warned him of his imperiled safety in the castle, he would have continued towards the audience chamber and had an attendant notify the royal king and queen of his presence, but because of her warning, it was more politically beneficial for him to leave. After all, a high profile court advisor only added to the incentive of any assassin who might still be lurking in the castle halls. Nearing the gates once more, he hailed a middle-aged women he knew one of the queen's personal attendants and handed her a brief note he had prepared in advance. Bearing his noble family's seal, the note relayed his desire to moderate political discussion between church and state, as he was politically entrenched with the crown, but a close friend of the archbishop as well, and his presence might serve to expedite the process.

"Please be sure her majesty receives this letter. I will return tomorrow morning," he near-whispered to her. The self-satisfied, although slightly disappointed, man, then passed through the gates, the clanging sound of which was followed only by silence punctuated by the sound of snow being crushed beneath his and his bodyguards' feet.

-----------------------

Andre passed in and out of consciousness. The only indicator that he was conscious at all was the familiar mushy crunching sound of walking through snow and the seemingly glowing orange eyes of his captor. Aside from that, the night was pitch dark due to clouds, save for one episode of consciousness, during which the thick layer of clouds gave way to moonlight. Being carried by this monster was even more frightening than seeing him for the first time, but the young man took some comfort in the fact that he was injured, having seen blood dripping down and staining the otherwise pure white snow during what little time ambient moonlight and starlight filtered through the clouds.

Ardus was in pain. He could tell that was no ordinary sword, since normally metal would bounce off his skin like a butter knife to diamond. That man also showed some kind of unbelievable power since not only was it unusual that his weapon came from literally thin air, but he looked as though charged by the divine. "Well, whatever." He talked aloud to himself. "Nothing I can do about it now. I'll get someone to patch this up for me..."

In the mountains overlooking Zatalia, stood a dilapidated, run-down opera house that once served as a great equalizer, entertaining nobles and plebians alike. The magnificent building, perched atop a sheer cliff, looked all the worse from weathering of the elements and neglect, prior to the demons establishing it as their base. It was, in short, a dump.

Ardus carried his prisoner, still hanging over his shoulder, to a side entrance--the front entrance had been boarded up at some point in the past--where a demon with the appearance of a person enshrouded in shadows stood, almost invisible in the night. He opened the door briefly, but closed it as quickly, turning towards the nearly invisible guard.

"Is Vaizar back yet?" He asked, in an almost growl-like manner. To his disappointment, the guard shook his head. "Tell him to come see me."

The towering demon entered the grand hall of the opera house and immediately felt better. His wound was still open, but the bleeding had since stopped and the inside was far preferable to the out. Almost an inverse of the outer appearance of the building, no one without knowledge of the outside world would even have an inkling that it was in ruins, constantly ravaged by the winter cold, if they saw this. The vast, empty room, brightly lit by innumerable candles the warmth and lasting power of which were greatly amplified by magic. Such a concentration of magic was such that Ardus could almost feel it, and despite having long since grown used to the sensation, it still made his hair stand on end. The room was normally used for worship of the gods, but it was late, and no ceremonies were being held, so it was empty, echoing every little sound from the rustling of Andre's clothing to Ardus' footsteps. The candles gave off a pleasant aroma, mostly of the unusual quality of melted wax, that calmed the demon, as he walked onto the stage and made his way into the back.

Here, the demon lord unceremoniously dropped the magus in a small dressing room. He removed everything from his person that could have constituted a weapon, stopping briefly to make note of a locket buried amongst various plant samples in his pockets. Ardus then grabbed a small, rectangular, magic-inhibiting ornament and fixed it on the septum of his nose before shackling each of his arms and legs to a wall. He was taking no chances with this one. This was the only human to have seen his true form without assistance, after all. There must have been something about him.

Ardus had nearly left the room, when he stopped in the doorway and turned to look at the prisoner before him. Deeply sighing, he fetched a bowl filled with slightly warm water and placed it before the unconscious Andre, then exited the room and locked it tightly, almost fumbling the tiny key in his gargantuan hands. Ardus then left the great hall to find someone to attend to his wounds, and to relate orders to Raaz to stir up some trouble tomorrow, (because diplomacy was practically assured if the head of the church was willing to react so lightly to the opposition killing his own people, and stifling diplomacy could only be beneficial to his goals) sending the message by proxy of an especially skilled telepath subordinate.

"Raaz, the humans will attempt to engage in diplomacy. I need you to disrupt their attempts by any means necessary, but do not make it obvious that it was by your hand." Ardus had his eyes closed as he held the shoulder of the insectoid demon whose powers allowed communication over such a distance. "There is a greasy court advisor who has connections with both the crown and church. He is very large, you should recognize him instantly. Keeping him away from negotiations is key to stagnating diplomacy. Remove him from the picture, but keep a low profile." he added.

Ardus relinquished his grasp of the insect demon's shoulder, who then turned to him, blinked his large compound eyes, and bowed deeply before Ardus left the stuffy, small room, stopping momentarily to say "If you see Vaizar, tell him to find me. We need to talk." The beast emerged into the still-empty main hall, and gazed upon the floor below the stage where scrape marks and ruts driven into the flooring where there used to be seats patterned themselves. He massaged his shoulder, feeling the aches so common after the sudden healing provided by magic. It was preferable to pain and gaping wounds to be certain, but it felt as though he had slept on his arm wrong for years and just noticed it now.

Andre was dazed. He had no idea where he was, though he at least had the presence of mind to realize the demon had brought him here. "That," he said out loud, "would explain these shackles." Andre pulled at his metal restraints to no avail, and gave up after a few seconds. While he could not move far from the wall, they were hardly restraining, and he could reach any part of his body just as well, provided he remained somewhat close to the wall. The young man rubbed his head, where a pulsing headache seemed to be coming from. Unlike those that would be followed by a prophecy, this one seemed completely mundane, likely a result of being hit there just before being kidnapped.

This, of course, led to a brief line of inquiry as to why he wasn't just dead, but Andre stopped this train of thought, preferring not to look a gift horse in the mouth. The room he was being kept in looked far from a prison. It was actually very luxuriously decorated, rivaling some of the castle's more opulent rooms. That it was so brightly lit, despite it being dark out, contributed to this effect tremendously. Many drawers and cabinets lined the wall, a table was placed in the middle of the room, which Andre could barely reach if not for his shackles, and what appeared to be a small vanity was placed in one corner, nearer to the majority of the cabinets and drawers. Most surprisingly, though, was not the odd nature of the room, but the fact that Andre himself was completely naked, save for a small, curiously heavy, metal rectangle affixed to his nasal septum for whatever reason.

As the door opened, Andre practically shouted "What's going on?! Where am I?! Where the hell are my clothes? Why am I--erp..." He was cut short as the same monster that kidnapped him shoved his way through the door. Though not nearly as frightening as before, the diminished shock value of his appearance did nothing to assuage Andre's fear. The young man's attempts to keep his body from reddening his face seemed to have absolutely no effect, instead resulting in his entire head and the upper half of his torso turning a deep crimson. Andre turned to the wall to which he was shackled, baring his back to the demon out of embarassment and fear.

"I can't let you have your clothes," growled Ardus, "because I know you're a magus and I don't want to risk you having a weapon." The gargantuan creature sat by the table, under which his legs barely fit, and atop a chair that looked as though it would splinter under his weight. He laid several documents stolen from the castle archives upon the table, as well as the contents of Andre's pockets, mostly consisting of seeds and leaves. "These papers are about you. They mysteriously stop documenting your research progress several years ago. Hello? Turn towards me." He added.

"I'd really rather not."
"Look, you're my prisoner and I'm asking you questions. Turn to face me."
"Well..." Andre steeled himself. "If I could at least get my clothes back..."
"No. They could be a weapon through the use of your magic. We don't know what research you've been doing for the past few years so we're not taking any chances." Andre began to tremble at this, despite the warmth of the room. Ardus took note of this and continued, "Look. I don't see what the big deal is. I mean, my c**k is out too."

This, obviously, had the opposite effect that it was intended to have. Instead of calming Andre, he became even further agitated. "Wh-That doesn't count! I can't see yours beneath all that mangy fur!"

"What, would you prefer that you could see it?" Andre turned even redder at this. "Ugh... This isn't a productive area of discussion. Turn around and answer my questions and then maybe I'll let you have your clothes, all right?" The prisoner reluctantly about faced, showcasing the the forbidden runes tattooed across his upper body and back. He regarded his captor with curiousity. Never before had he talked with anyone quite like him, as commoners viewed him with contempt, and noblemen were too busy talking pretentiously to allow any sort of attitude through their speech. The casual, but pressing tone in his voice was almost alien to Andre, and seemed extremely out of place for such a behemoth.

After a brief pause, during which the young man considered the insanity of his position, naked, imprisoned, speaking with a monstrous demon the likes of which he had never seen, Andre sighed and rubbed his nose, feeling the cold metal rectangle in the process.He felt tense, worried that at any moment, the beast would charge at him and impale his body upon one of his enormous horns, but something in his bright orange eyes assured Andre that nothing like that would happen.

Andre closed his eyes as he began his story.

----------

LaGoupagous ambled down the road, passing briefly by the grand cathedral. The sight was not something he expected. Not only were the doors shut to keep out the cold, but they appeared to be missing entirely. The inside of the church itself looked far from its typical grandeur. A thick smoke screen was dissipating slowly, revealing the carnage within.

"You two," ordered LaGoupagous. "Help them. Protect them. Go! Go to him!" He added, pointing at a man he recognized as Godfrey of the Enforcers. Two of his silent bodyguards rushed to Wilhelm's side, the remaining one following him. Satisfied with this, he turned towards the castle and bounded his way there accompanied by his remaining bodyguard. It was much more difficult than before to make his way, as the night had become completely overcast and it had begun to snow lightly. The irritation of the snow and the frustration of the dark would not impede his progress, though. He was now genuinely concerned. If the conflict in the church were as a result of an outside force, there would be much more to consider than he had anticipated. Had it been as a result of the decree of the crown, he would have to stop his message from being delivered, lest his friendship with the archbishop be made known and his loyalties brought into question.

In no time at all, he in the antechamber to the King and Queen's quarters, pocketing the still-sealed note he had authored not minutes ago. Miraculously, he had managed to stop the attendant from delivering it, as she had apparently been held up with other duties. That same attendant stood in here now, waiting for a pause in the passionate deliberation that could be heard emanating from their room. As soon as such a pause made itself clear, the attendant knocked on the door.

"Your majesties, Councilor LaGoupagous is here to see you. He says it is urgent."