Author's Note:

    This is a piece that I wrote a short while ago. It is a spoiler
 for anyone who has not yet gotten to the regrouping in Narshe,
 after the three seperate storylines that you can do in any
 order (it's hard to warn against spoilers without putting in 
spoilers in the process ^-^). Another way to say this is, if you
 have not been to the Solitary Island and don't know what that
 is, this would be a spoiler for you. There, that should be helpful
 while not spoiling anything

    Anyway, as the subject tags suggest, this is written from an
 alternate point of view. Enjoy, and I'd greatly appreciate any
 comments, as well as constructive criticisms. I wrote this fic 
about a year ago, now, and though I think my writing may have
evolved, I'm quite happy with this piece.

    Oh, on another note, this piece has 8 chapters, but I thought
that was a tad bulky for one email. So I sent the first 4 chapters
in one email, and the final 4 are in this one.
------------------------------------------------------
Title: Beyond Pain (Part 2/2)
Game/Anime: Final Fantasy 3/6, by Squaresoft
Author: Denise Cameron aka Elena99 
------------------------------------------------------

Chapter Four

The falling didn't stop for quite a long time. In fact, he wasn't
quite sure that he was actually falling. More like...floating.
Floating like a feather being played with by the gentle breeze on a
cool day. Or floating like a rejected piece of paper, left to the
mercy of gravity to eventually hit the floor? But when he looked down,
he saw nothing. Frightened, he held on tighter to the warm, soft being
that was in his arms, then suddenly he wasn't looking down anymore.

"Candra?" He asked, surprised. Indeed, she was there in his arms, a
ghostly smile on her face. Pale, pale skin practically glowed, though
seemed to cling to her bones in the absence of rose colouring. She
nodded slowly, her eyes perhaps not as twinkling as they used to be.
Not as alive.

"It's me, Taepen. I'm here, but...you're not. At least, that's what
She told me." She said. Her voice was so confident as she said it, so
sure of itself. There was a hint of sadness in it as well, but it
didn't show on her face. He would have preferred that, though, to the
look of eerie calm that was in it's place. He almost dropped her, but
then realized she was also supporting him. Somehow.

"Who's she? Where is here?" He asked, looking at her and suddenly
feeling her body grow cold. His was cold as well; he shivered, though
he still wore the thick clothing from the battle. The same clothing as
he had worn the night he tried to sneak into the Imperial base...

"I can't tell you...yet. But you're not supposed to be here. You're
dreaming, love." Her voice was cream, and coffee at the same time. It
was soothing and surprising, and pained him. Why couldn't he be here?
How was he dreaming?

"You're dead." He said simply. The words were dull on his tongue, his
head and his heart. Before his eyes, she became more translucent, and
the smile did finally leave her face. Leaning forward, she pressed her
cold lips against his cheek, and then it was gone. She was gone, and
he was falling again.

***

He woke up in the morgue section of the infirmary, sprawled on the
floor underneath a table. This did not enter his brain right away
though; at first he gazed at the curtains made from the white sheet on
the bed above, and between them and the cold, cold stone floor he was
quite confused. The distance from his nose to the underside of the bed
also caused a small panic in him, and immediately he shuffled out. And
came to his feet beside the bed.

"So it's true..." His breath was a whisper as he looked at the blurred
vision in front of him, in the dimly lit room. A figure, underneath a
sheet of white. Even with his eyesight, he had a feeling that he knew
who was under there.

Gingerly, he touched the sheet, near where the face no doubt was.
Caressed the bleached material between his fingers, as though he were
caressing fine silk. His eyes were dry, his skin cool, though a
trickle of sweat was making a small cascade down his back. Nothing.
Nothing...nothing...simply nothing.

He thought he should be feeling pain, about now. Thought that since he
wasn't, it meant that he was heartless and cruel. But nothingness was
all he felt. It consumed him, filled him. Never before had he felt so
full of emptiness, never before had he wished he could just cry, just
let it out. Just let it all out.

He had cried once before, in front of Candra. He wasn't sure if it
counted though. They had both been in a play, as children, and Taepen
had to play a small boy who was grieving at the death of his mother.
Candra was his older sister -- though really they were the same age --
comforting him. It had been a hard role for Taepen; as the son of a
minister, he readily accepted death when it was inevitable. At
least...he had, at the time. He was sure he had. So the tears would
not come, until finally, on the rehearsal before opening night. Candra
had yelled at him, cursed him, slapped him, called him every name in
the book to get him to cry. None of it had worked, until one of the
older women talked to her. Then she said something to him, and ignored
him. Wouldn't respond, wouldn't talk, wouldn't acknowledge his
existence. Being eight at the time, he finally did let himself cry.

The thing she had told him was a ridiculous thing to cry at though.
She had told him that he would never be a true man; and with his
ambitions toward swords at the time, she managed to do this
convincingly. He would laugh at such a thing today, but then...Candra
had been the only one to ever be able to make him cry. He suspected
that the messenger had been as essential to the message. He hadn't
been able to cry during the play, but that was a different story.

He was torn now, between pulling back the sheets to reveal her face,
or not. No doubt she was not at her prettiest right now. Not that he
was very hung up on looks, but he had a fairly good image of Candra in
his mind. Of the girl that would put wildflowers in his long hair to
tease him, only to have him pull them out when she turned away. Of the
girl that would fix his collar if it looked crooked. The girl who had
grabbed him behind the wall once, kissed him smartly on the mouth,
then walked away just as quickly, her head high in the air. It was a
good picture; a beautiful picture. It was how he wanted to remember
her...but he still would rather she be back to life.

Confusing thoughts entered his head now. Thoughts of 'at least now, I
don't have to worry about when to propose' or 'I wonder if I could get
something of hers to keep, for myself...surely her mother will let me
keep something.' entered his mind, and he dashed them away as though
they offended him. 'I should be sad! Upset! Melancholy even, but not
thinking these things...not for Candra...she's better then that...'
His eyes darkened as the mental debate filled him. Looking down, he
realized that he was grasping onto the sheet now, rather then simply
holding it between two fingers. It was bunched up, her auburn hair
showing from behind it. Dark auburn, with red and orange highlights.
And two small, barely noticeable grey hairs that she refused to
believe were there. He let go of the sheet in shock, staring at her
hair. Just staring, not moving, his mouth half opened in shock of what
he had done. As though he had offended her somehow, in moving the
sheet. He didn't notice the small pool of darkened material on the
sheet, from two tears from his eyes, as he hastily put the sheet back
over her hair and ran from the room.


Chapter 5

The people in the streets were clamoring again, but this time there
was no attack. At least, not an obvious one. Taepen walked among them,
going in the direction they were going, listening to the conversations
as he went.

"The Liege to the King is leaving!"

"My son, he is dying..."

"May he bring peace and an end to this turmoil!"

"The Empire has gone too far!"

"Peace? Thou art a fool to think that there shall be peace!"

"Oh Goddess...the poison! The poison..."

He witnessed people laying about in the streets, looking for all the
world as though they were sleeping. Those that still stood nearby them
wept openly, their eyes full of anger and hatred. The ones that walked
wore grim expressions; those usually reserved for someone who sought
vengeance. Vengeance so needful that one could kill with it.

They appeared to be going to the castle, and that suited him just
fine. His heart was turning to steel as he walked, but he did not
care. If steel was what was needed to avenge the death of his love,
steel was what he would accept. All because she became upset as his
being hurt, for being an idiot and stepping into that camp. It was all
his fault, even the attack on their town, as far as he was concerned.
He needed to set it right. Setting his sights to the front gates, he
marched, and filed in with the other men and boys off to join him.
However, there weren't many of them left to go forth. Whatever this
poison business was, it had gotten more then a few people. Only
perhaps a dozen were going in the same direction as he.

He got to the outside of the arches and passed through them, down the
hallway to the outside of the castle. There were sounds of attack
going on, though they were faded. Distant. He didn't even notice that
his whole body now was numb to everything around him, as though he had
a barrier of sorts. A lousy form of protection, the numbness, since
the pain was coming from within now.

As he walked out the front gates again, behind two rather large men
that walked with a surprisingly weak step, he saw him leave. The Liege
to the king, Cyan Garamonde, stood beside two other men he did not
know. He was tall, his long black hair caught back in a strip of
leather, his dark blue armour bearing only minor scratches and snags
from battle. Watching him from a distance now, he saluted smartly, but
was not seen. Cyan was speaking with a rather large, oafish looking
blonde man, and it seemed quite serious. On Cyans side, at least. The
other man was a lean, dark man outfitted in black clothing. He didn't
appear to be interested in the conversation at all, and Taepen
narrowed his eyes at him. He didn't trust that man one bit, though he
hadn't the foggiest idea why.

And then they were leaving. Without the other men, without
recruitments, without another word. Had he already sent out the army?
Was the king not to journey with them? Though not very young,
occasionally the brave king of Doma did see himself as part of the
Doman army. He said often to his citizens that he would not be worthy
to them if he did not risk his life as well. Shaking his head, Taepen
decided to ignore it. Cyan was leaving now, and if he didn't start
following now, he would lose him completely.

***

They had walked a mile perhaps now, and still Taepen didn't approach
them. He had wanted to, and tried at first, but something always stuck
his tongue to the roof of his mouth, as though he were back in school
trying to pronounce the fuzzy letters written on the chalkboard. What
if they did not want him there? What if he were sent home? What if he
had to explain why he was there? He could not let such a great hero as
was Cyan know of his failure. It would be too much to him, too badly a
lose for him to regain. Having ones hero know you failed the one you
loved...that had kept him back as sure as if Cyan were poison himself.
He wasn't ready yet to face the three men; and so instead he trailed
them at a reasonable distance, having an easier route of it with the
three men clearing away monsters and beasts as they went.

The day turned slowly to night, and a fierce wind picked up on the
fields. No moon shone tonight to light their way, and Taepen cursed
himself for letting his hunger for vengeance take him out without a
pack, or food, or even change of clothing. Yet he found that he wasn't
all that hungry, and wasn't very surprised. Often he had spoken to
people who had just had a loved one die; loss of appetite was common.
'And a loss of your good sense too, it seems' he thought to himself
bitterly. His eyes shone like a wolfs when he somehow passed his own
defenses, and thought of Candra. What would she say? What would she
think? A low growl rumbled in his throat as he tried to harden his
heart again. He couldn't let himself think of her...not now. All he
could do was follow these men, one of which was his hero, and hope
their path lead to the seeking of Vengeance. For Candra, as well as
for Doma.

Camp was set up soon after, and Taepen set his own up not far away. He
didn't dare think to light a fire. He had been watching the three
fight for a while, and had figured out that the black clothed man was
what their people called a shrouderer. A man of the black methods. In
essence, a ninja, an assassin, and a cold hearted killer. Upon
realizing this, he wondered why in the world Cyan was associating with
him. Surely a shrouderer was not an honourable man, and thus not
worthy of the company of Cyan Garamonde. The other seemed a bit
better, though Taepen thought his style of fighting to be rather
idiotic. He was a martial artist, and fought with fists and feet. No
sword, or bow, or dagger, though there were metal spikes on his fists.
It got him past the monsters and beasts, but he was eager to see how
well he would do in a dual versus something more intelligent.

They doused their campfire before long; no doubt worried about
Imperial spies. Taepen had seen none from behind them, yet they could
sneak up from anywhere. They were dishonorable men, these Imperial
swine, and he didn't doubt they'd stab any one of them in the back,
given half the chance. Not wanting to give them such a chance, he
decided to aid his leaders by keeping watch. He fixed himself up into
a large hole at the bottom of a tree nearby, and stayed awake and on
watch for a few hours at least before sleep took over.


Chapter 6

As what seemed to be happening often lately if he chanced to fall
asleep, he woke up elsewhere then where he had been. Or had he slept?
He wasn't all that confident that he had. Perhaps he was walking in
his sleep. His father used to do that when he was a boy, his mother
had told him. Walked because the spirit of the lord possessed him so,
said his father. His mother thought that was foolish, and said it
happened when a person was troubled. Taepen accepted that he was
certainly troubled; yet that still didn't explain why he was up in the
branches of the tree, nestled in like a babe in a crib. Noting that it
was morning, he groaned, scanned the area to see the empty campfire,
groaned again, and climbed down.

It was a while before he caught up to them again. The shrouderer left
no marks, but the oafish man and Sir Cyan left faint tracks for him to
follow. He trailed after them, looking like a lost dog, wanting to
feel like a hero. Like someone who could aid them. He didn't think of
the possibility that maybe he couldn't help them after all.

They were in another forest now, one of ghosts oddly enough, pale
white shrouded in a white aura of magic. Taepen tried to stay clear of
them, but occasionally one would find them. On such an instance, it
would stare into his eyes, into the depth of his soul, and grin. Just
grin. It drove him mad to see them grin like that, as though they knew
something. As though they knew the hour of his death, and maybe they
planned to be present to see that it happened.

They passed a spring of healing as well, or at least that's what the
wooden sign said it was. A large, oily looking body of water, near a
shore of rocks and grass nearby. It smelled of old salt and dead
seaweed, but he washed his face in it, as had Cyan and his companions.
He didn't feel any degree refreshed, but plodded on nonetheless.
Perhaps it's healing properties were merely overrated.

The path of dirt lead to a pair of wrought iron gates, which the
blonde man pushed through without an ounce of care to be shown. Taepen
sniffed at him, at the blurred image, hidden as he was from behind a
tree. To dive right into potential enemy territory? Was he mad? But
once Cyan and the shrouderer passed as well, Taepen followed as though
he had been commanded. Then, he heard a sound in the distance.

He reasoned that the sound was why they had not yet noticed him, and
he may have been right at that. Slowly, agonizingly, it grew louder
and louder. The sound of an engine howling in the dark of evening, as
though crying out it's last painful bouts of pure, unbridled sorrow.
Hairs stood up at the back of his neck as it came closer.

And closer.

And closer....

All eyes were on the train, with it's odd skull and crossbones on the
front, as it pulled up on the tracks. Taepen watched in shock as the
blonde man convinced Cyan and the shrouderer to board the thing.
Without another thought, he followed as well, but found the door to be
locked.

"No! Hell and damnation, I won't let this keep me behind." He cursed
at the door. Still on the actual train though, he walked back a few
paces, and hopped over a small railing to another car. He then walked
into a doorway, and closed it behind him.

An odd sight met his face. He had never been inside of a train before,
but that wasn't what was marking this as odd to him. It was a plain
room, with another room inside and a door that lead to it. An older
man was walking about, and he gave him a knowing look before
proceeding. A form of white, almost like the ghosts he had seen
outside, walked through the room, then another as well, walking about
in almost innocence. Taepen stepped back, but the door he had come in
through was locked as well. He thought he felt a cold sweat form on
his skin.

A breeze followed the ghosts as well, for when one came close to him,
a sense of arctic weather enveloped him. Shuddering, Taepen wrapped
his arms around himself to keep warm. The ghost shot him a curious
look, deep blue eyes looking up at him from beneath a white, tattered
hood. He could have sworn those eyes were laughing.

After what seemed like ages, a sound was heard from beyond a door to
the left. Of course! He thought to himself, another door. It had been
there all along, but he had not seen it. For fear, he had not seen it,
but could only see the ghosts. Standing bravely, he wondered at what
was making the noise, and readied for some beast to come through. If
only he could see the door clearly...it moved with such an
intoxicating blur...

And opened. First stepped through the blonde man, his face looking not
too surprised yet not too pleased at seeing the ghosts around the
room. The shrouderer came next, looking everywhere and nowhere from
beyond that black mask. Cyan came last, and at seeing the Liege to the
throne of Doma, Taepen took a step towards the trio. They put hands
and weapons at the ready as though threatened.

"Hold on a minute. I don't think this ones going to attack us." Said
the blonde one, when Taepen didn't unleash the expected spell. This
one? Surely they didn't think a soldier loyal to Doma would attack!

"I think thou art correct, Sir Sabin. What dost thou make of it?" Said
Cyan, his fingers rubbing his chin in a pondering gesture. Cyan didn't
recognize him? The blow to his heart was almost as severe as though it
were Candra not recognizing him. Taepen shuddered, and took a step
closer. The shrouderer didn't react at all.

"Don't you recognize me, Lord Cyan? It is I...Taepen, a soldier loyal
to the throne of Doma!" Said Taepen proudly. At least, that's what he
heard in his head. What he heard aloud sounded more like a breeze over
the ocean, like a wind rustling through the trees. Faint words could
be heard, but only in whispers. He coughed, then said it again, more
loudly.

"I...do not know what to make of this." Said Cyan after a long moment.
Taepen bowed low anyway, and this seemed to disturb the three more
then anything. Even the shrouderer twitched a finger, no doubt wanting
a blade.

"I apologize for following you, my Lord, but I needed some way to seek
vengeance. I submit myself to your command, and hope that I can be of
service." For once, Cyans lips moved, but no sound came out. Taepen
tilted his head, unsure.

"Thou said...thy name be Taepen? Thou art the lad that attempted to
sneak into the Imperial base, earlier this week." Cyans face was pale,
pale white, and there was a hint of sadness in it. Of regret. Taepen
took it to be disappointment, and bowed his head.

"I have brought shame to the Doma name, I am sorry. I don't know what
possessed me to think I could accomplish anything with the mission."
Said Taepen. This appeared to be the last straw to Cyan.

"But thou art dead, lad! Dead as proclaimed by the soldiers who
followed, and missed a rescue attempt by nay more then an hour. Art
thou not aware of these tidings?" Cyans face spoke lament that Taepen
could not yet feel. For his own part, Taepen stood rigid, solid as a
sword, and looked Cyan straight in the eyes. No lying. No chance of
uncertainty, no chance of false witness.

He was...dead?


Chapter 7

"But...but my lord, it cannot be! I am alive and well. I stand before
you, do I not? ...my lord?" Taepen felt his lower lip tremble, and
raised his hand to stop it. His whole body stopped as he looked at his
hand. It was pale, pale white, his sky dry and sagging off of his
bones. Where there was once a gauntlet, gloves, and sleeve of his
proudly worn uniform, there was now just the sickly skin, and the
white cloth of a cloak for a sleeve. Taepen took a step backwards, and
looked down. He wore the cloak on his whole body. His other hand
matched the first in whiteness, and when he put a hand to the top of
his head...there was a large, deep hood. It was white as well.

"The train shows your true form...." Whispered a breeze to his right.
A ghost. It danced by, gliding on thin, cool air and not looking at
Taepen as he passed. He doubted that the others had heard his comment.
Taepen shuddered.

Cyan leaned over to whisper something into the ear of the blonde oaf,
who in turn nodded. Then the liege to the throne of Doma took a step
towards Taepen.

"Do not give into fear and doubt, my lad. Neither are worth your
efforts, and embracing them shall only lead to further sorrow. Thou
art indeed dead, and there are still those in Doma who mourn for thee.
However, if it does indeed giveth thee strength...I will allow thee to
accompany us. It would be an honour to have one in our company who
fights for the Doma name, even in death." The younger Doman froze,
staring at Cyans lips as he spoke. Were they moving? Why was he
talking so fast? Yet the words entered his mind, slowly. Warped and
twisted as they were, he understood, and bowed deeply. He thought his
heart was numb from the shock, and furthered his shock even when he
stopped to wonder if he did indeed still have a heart.

"I accept your kind offer, Lord Cyan." He said formally. Standing up
again still left the world in a dizzy frenzy of wrongness.

"Very good. Now, Sir Sabin here has an idea, so..." The rest of the
commands were lost to him, but he nodded, and followed. The shrouderer
gave Taepen what appeared to be an amused look - through the mask,
somehow, he sensed amusement - before turning. Taepen walked at the
end of the line, and was amazed to see that he was drifting. On the
cold, cold air of the floor. His naked feet ached for warmth.

They went from cabin to cabin, and at times fought enemies. This was
when Taepen felt closer to real; he slashed at the monsters with a
dagger, as though slashing at that dog, and those Imperials that had
let him die. That had let him....

A flame beast went down in a heap of ash and smoke as Taepen sunk his
dagger deep into it's middle, then pulled it out once more. Blood did
not touch the dagger somehow, and in fact it was clean as ever when he
pulled it out again. He paused to smirk when he noticed it was his
brothers dagger; somehow, he still had it. The chuckle that escaped
his throat moments later set the blonde oaf on his guard, but Taepen
didn't care. He was dead! What could this supposed Great martial
artist do to him now? What could any of them do? He smiled grimly at
the man, then slinked away to the back of the party. He didn't hear
Cyans next whisper,

"He seems to be taking the news to heart now....worry not over him,
Sir Sabin, but do watch thine back."

They moved on.

The ghosts cornered them at one point. Shouts of "N.O. E.S.C.A.P.E"
rang out from all of them, while Taepen sneered. Why did they care if
the humans escaped? If he escaped? They were dead, so why did they
care to entrap the living? The blonde man managed to save them though,
with one of his tricks. Picking them all up with his aura, they had
leaped from car to car, until finally their weight caused the roof of
one of the cars to give. They all fell to the floor, groaning with
pain, as Taepen floated to the ground smoothly. Part of him wished his
elbow would smart, or his heal cry out in pain, but neither did.
Numbness filled his empty veins.

"Lord Cyan...may I ask a question?" He asked after a few more cars.
Something was pulling him back now, forcing him into a void. He didn't
like the feeling; it made the numbness more prominent, like pins in
his side.

"Certainly, my lad." Cyan turned full around, and the party stopped to
gaze at him. Taepen lowered his head.

"What is it that you and your...companions plan to do? For which you
came on this train?" There was a shuffling of feet. Uncertainty?

"We are on this train due to the guidance of Sir Sabin here." Lord
Cyan turned to give the man a wry look, then turned back to Taepen.
The shrouderer was taking the time to adjust something in his pack.
The dog lingered nearby, but never took notice of Taepen.

"As for the greater goal...Sir Sabin knows of a resistance group. The
Returners, I believe. I plan to join their ranks, to help in the
defeat of the Empire. We are headed for Narshe, to the north." Cyan
nodded his head at the end, with a glint in his eyes of the youth that
still filled them despite the wrinkles. A true hero. Taepen bowed low,
then raised again.

"My Lord Cyan...surely the group will achieve it's goals, with a
leader like you in it."

"Thank you, my lad. Is that all thee wanted to know?"

"Yes...thank you, that is all." And so they began walking again.

The feeling was growing more intense now. The calling back into the
depths of the train...they wanted to cut off the back cars, and a
fierce feeling against the idea filled Taepen. It took until they were
just about to uncouple the cars for him to figure out why this was
happening. He couldn't go. He shouldn't go with them, and now was his
time for the end. It caused him pain to think of staying on this
side...with the living. Despite his efforts, he just could not
continue.

"Wait!" Cried Taepen, just as the blonde man, the one Cyan called Sir,
bent over. He stood back up, and looked at his hood. Taepen wondered
if his eyes glowed blue like the others.

"I cannot go with you. I cannot go any further, I'm sorry, but..."
Cyans hand raising stopped his voice.

"I understand, my lad. Thou art no longer of the living...like my
wife, and son." Cyans voice was full of sorrow, and Taepen widened his
eyes.

"Lady Elayne and Lord Owain are dead, my Lord? I'm so sorry, I was not
aware...my condolences, my Lord..." Taepen bowed yet again.

"By poison, I'm afraid. Thou must join them now...look for them, if
thou can. Tell them that I am well, and that the lives lost in Doma
shall be avenged. Go now, brave Taepen. In death, I dub thee loyal
knight to Doma. Go in peace." Then, to his amazement, Lord Cyan
Garamonde bowed.

The blonde man nodded to him, but said nothing. Taepen still did not
feel him worthy of being bowed to, and nodded back, then turned to the
shrouderer. He tilted his head, and took a step forward.

"If you see a man named Baram, Ghost..." But then, as though changing
his mind, he turned suddenly, his clothing making a sharp whisking
sound. Taepen raised himself in the air, not quite sure how he was
doing it, and planted himself back down on the car that was on the
other side of the coupling. The blonde man bent down to uncouple the
car.

"Farewell." His voice was the song of a lark in the distance. His car
slowed down then, and he turned around, heading back into the cabin.
It was still going fast enough, granted. Were they going to Narshe? Or
some other place where the living did not belong? Unsure, he walked
in, and thought about seeking out Lady Elayne, and Lord Owain. And
perhaps...even Candra.

Chapter 8

They surrounded him now. A sea of white and transparency, of non
colours and half truths. They had been waiting for him inside, piling
up against the intruders. When they saw him come back in alone, he
felt more then he saw the rage fill up around him. Something wasn't
pleased with him, and now he was starting to truly go blind.

"Wretchhhhed boy...why do you hang onto it ssssso?" Called a voice
behind him. A terrible cold seized his lower back, passed painfully
through his innards, and appeared in front of him in the form of a
ghost. It was neither ugly nor beautiful, male nor female, and floated
before him in a blur. Taepen tried to back away and found that he had
pinned himself against the back wall as it was.

"Hang onto what?"

A fierce laughter rippled through the room. It bounced off the ceiling
and floor, entered his right ear, flashed to his toes, and caused his
fingertips to quiver and spasm. It ceased quickly, leaving the room
nothing but cold. Dead cold.

Tentatively, Taepen took a step forward. Then another. Then another. A
spear shot up from the ground in front of him, and he backed up fast,
realizing it was not a spear but another ghost. Taepen ran around it
and through to the next car, the cackling laughter rippling after him.


"Life!"

"Living!"

"Pain!"

"Sorrow!"

"Love!"

"You hold onto these....as though you still had the life you crave!"

"Foolish boy!"

"Run from your destiny!"

Taepen found himself tumbling forward into the next room. His sight
was gone; if he had known it, he was running through benches rather
then around them, and leaping through tables as though it were mere
air. And for him, it may as well been.

"I can't see!" He cried, groping through the dark world as though he
were lost in a cave. He dropped to his knees, feeling the floor firmly
below him, even though really he was floating in midair.

"Yes you can boy! Open your eyes..." But Taepen couldn't.

"Something holds him here." Said a female voice, that he had not heard
before. It surrounded him, engulfed him as though he were in his
mothers womb. He felt the other ghosts ripple at her presence; the
sounds stopped except for one other voice.

"Something does. But he has to free himself from it, first." The room
warmed up a bit. Spots of red and blue danced before his eyes, against
the raven coloured background.

"He's too weak. Normally, they cross over as soon as they find out the
truth...but this one didn't! This one stayed to help the living. He's
cursed."

"No! I had to help them! I couldn't abandon Lord Cyan, I could not."
Cried Taepen, trying to turn himself towards the voice. He had no way
to tell if he was correct in turning to the left or not.

"You abandoned me, Taepen." Said the female voice. It was then that
Taepen realized who the voice was.

"Candra..."

"Yes Taepen...it's me." But her voice didn't sound pleased. Why didn't
it sound pleased?

"I'll put behind the world of the living, Candra, for you. I would
never abandon you!"

"But you did, Taepen."

His mind fought to try to find the truth. Had he abandoned her in
going to attack the base? Or when he had urged them to the shelter?
But he was already dead then...He couldn't have saved her, could he?

"Pay attention." She said, her tone annoyed, and he found himself
spinning. The floor met with his face in an awful smack, and he stood
up. Still he could not see, but he thought he could blink.

"You abandon me and disbelieve me still! You think you feel pain? You
think you are affected by your handicap? You think you can touch the
ground?" Her accusing voice was like crystals of ice floating into his
blood stream, but he felt the pain. He felt the pain, and despite his
wanting to let go, he could not.

"I don't! Candra, I love you, I would never abandon you, I would
never..."

"Then see Taepen! For the love of the Goddess, open your mind and
see!"

Then the world went even darker then Taepen could have possibly
imagined.

***

He opened his eyes in a world of white and blue. Warmth coming from
within and around him caused him to feel as though he were glowing.
Without thinking, he fluttered a pair of large, feathered wings on his
back. He was flying now. Higher and higher he soared, leaving the
white below him. Leaving the grass, and the sands, and the water, and
the rocks. Leaving the trees, and the animals, and the people. Most
importantly leaving the people.

He didn't think on the journey. Didn't see, didn't feel, didn't smell,
didn't touch, didn't taste the warm, sweet air around him. He didn't
notice when he passed through different colours, different shades,
cold, darkness, heat, light, water, air, wind, or fire. Didn't notice
the battles that took place, inside and out, merely flew. Faster and
faster, higher and higher, until...until...

An angel appeared before him. Beautiful and delicate, familiar and
comforting, she glided to him. Took him in her arms and kissed him. At
that moment, he learned how to feel without feeling.

"Welcome to the world beyond pain, Taepen."




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