Shining Force: Chapter 5
Max looked down at Mae’s upturned face, waiting expectantly for a kiss. Since he didn’t have anything
better to do while he waited for his brain to shift into gear, he bowed his head and kissed her. After a
timeless moment, their lips parted. That was worth the wait, Max thought to himself, recalling the campaign
of almost two years now, and the attraction he’d felt on that first encounter. His brain still wasn’t doing it’s
job, so he kissed her again.
"Mmmm," sighed Mae, laying her head back on his shoulder, "Did you enjoy last night as much as I did?"
"I’m sure I did."
"Mmm-huh?" Mae looked back up at him with a puzzled look.
"Well, after we toasted you, it all starts to get hazy. I really can’t remember anything after Gong started
singing along with Jogurt and we all started throwing bread at-" Mae, her face suddenly closed up, began to
rise to leave. Max’ brain finally kicked into motion, and realizing her intent, he grabbed her and pulled her
down with his eldritch strength. Mae struggled, but he held on firm until she finally looked him in the eyes.
"I said I didn’t remember, not that I didn’t enjoy it," he said quietly, gazing intently at her, "now listen up,
and listen good." He swallowed, took a deep breath, then swallowed again. "I love you." He swallowed, and
said it again, more quietly. "I love you."
The response was immediate. First, she began trembling. Then she grabbed his face and kissed him, far
more enthusiastically and energetically than the tender good morning kisses of a few moments ago. When
they finally came up for air, he told her again. "I love you." And they kissed again.
"I love you too." Mae lay her head on his shoulder. "God, why didn’t I say that before. I wanted to tell you
at the bridge, but I was just..." she shook her head.
The next ten, maybe fifteen minutes were spent talking intimately, over a wide range of personal subjects,
like Max’ past, Mae’s past, Varios, who got drunker and made the bigger fool of themselves last night, as
they cuddled together in the hay. No, I’m not telling. Like I said, it was personal. Let’s give them their
privacy.
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When Max and Mae came out to breakfast, Gort and Luke were at the table, physically at least. The rest of
them had gone wherever consciousness goes in times of extreme discomfort, while their bodies clutched
their heads and moaned quietly, pathetically. Serving maids brought them glasses of water, which they
sipped quietly, and little sprigs of herbs, which they chewed as delicately as possible, mainly because even
their teeth hurt.
Gong and Diane were there, too. Their hands kept brushing against each other as they ate their toast, and
they kept glancing at each other, then looking away with a smile. Mae nudged Max. "Looks like we’re not
the only ones to find a little happiness last night," she winked. Max nodded.
"Where’s Domingo?" he asked to no one in particular. Gort and Luke both jumped in their chairs at the
sudden noise, and Luke almost burst into tears.
"He’s in the room Anri set out for him," whispered Mae. Max nodded and went to fetch his adopted tyke.
Domingo lay in a puddle on the floor, his tentacles twitching softly. "Hey, kiddo, how you doing?" Max
asked quietly.
Domingo’s squid eyes fixed on him. "Are you alright?" Max blinked.
"Of course. Why do you ask?"
"You kept drinking that poison last night. And the more you drank, the weirder everyone got." Max
chuckled and knelt down to pat him on his cap.
"Not to worry, Domingo. It’s a mild poison, and everyone’s better the next day. Well, after the hangover
wears off, anyway. You ready for breakfast?" Domingo levitated up, and followed him back to the dining
room.
Diane was still at the table with Gong. The elven archer was not merely smiling up at Gong, but was in fact
sitting on the ogre’s enormous knee, spooning gobs of creamy boiled oats into his homely, good natured
face. Mae set out a platter of raw meat for Domingo, and two bowls of oats for herself and Max and told
them both, "keep watching when people come out to breakfast. You’ll see who did what last night."
A short while later, Tao came out, looking diminutively regal in her robes, a smug expression on her face.
After what he must have thought a suitably long interval, Guntz followed, of a similar stature out of his
armour. Mae and Max smiled at each other.
Next, Amon and Balbaroy came out. Strangely, while both were as affectionate as always, nothing seemed
particularly different between the two, no renewal of endearments seemed obvious. "Amon told me about it
a while back," Mae told Max. "They only procreate once a year. They do it in the air, too."
"When are they due to fly?" Max asked, his mind suddenly awash with concerns for a pregnant/nesting
Amon.
"In another month or so."
Finally, Anri came out, a smug smile playing about her own lips. Max tensed as she sat at the head of the
table. A moment later, Zylo came out, looked at the Princess, and flinched, before slinking to the table, as
Max’ eyebrows shot clean off his head. Max opened his mouth to ask-
And then Ken stepped out, barechested, looked at his liege lady, and blushed from his face clean down to
where his human belly became equine chest.
Then Pelle came out...
Vankar... Arthur... Earnest, his normally grim features set in an uncomfortable pose...Lowe...only Jogurt,
hopping onto a seat to munch some fresh roasted nuts, seemed oblivious.
"Well, that clears up the last of MY illusions about the aristocracy," said Max in a cheerful voice. Nova and
Kokichi came out to breakfast, plopping down in their seats with nary a blush nor glance. Max looked at
Nova.
"When you get to be our age, other things become more important. Things like sleep," Nova said without
looking up. "We weren’t around for anything after the tenth toast."
Tenth toast, Max thought, oh yeah, that’s when Lowe started dancing on the tables...aloud, he asked, "Anri,
how long do you wish to stay in Guardiana?"
"Only another day or so," Anri replied, spooning a bite of oats with sugar and milk into her mouth, "Soon as
I’ve taken care of some things, we can get back to Uranbatol."
"Very well. I’ll be heading there now, and leave Amon and Lowe there to get the ship ready."
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Their new ship was considerably large than Joy of the Sea, a cargo vessel built for hauling large amounts of
crates and passengers. Laden with barrels filled with onions, berries, and other fruits vital to avoid scurvy
amongst the omnivores in the group, nuts and seeds, salted beef, flour, a quantity of eggs packed in straw,
and many, many casks of water-Max had ruled out all but a small supply of alcohol for the voyage, some
fine wines, and a few small kegs of ale to last Gort and Luke for the duration of the voyage. For me, I think
I’ve had enough beer to last me the rest of my days. Max’ tastes had developed into a preference for a
goblet of wine at meals, and he was quite finished with trying to prove his manhood to anyone by drinking
the bitter brew.
For a day and a night, the Pride of Empire been sailing, the enormous sails pulling them forward as the
Shining Force practiced their skills on the broad decks or in the holds, relaxed in their cabins, or just leaned
on the rail and gazed at the sea-or deposited their meals into it, depending. Max spent most of his time
either reading in his room, while snuggled up with Mae, watching the sea next to her, or playing with
Domingo. The hatchling greatly enjoyed playing a kind of tag with his adopted father.
After a day, Mae came to Max with a problem. "Some of the team are concerned about Domingo."
"What happened? Is he hurt?" Mae shook her head, and layed her hand on his shoulder reassuringly.
"It’s not that. They’re...a little discomfited, by what he did to that knight at Uranbatol."
Max stood perfectly still. "Discomfited?"
"They’re upset over having a comrade eating a sentient creature, Max. I know you love him, I like him
myself, but-"
"Team meeting, main hold, five minutes." Max turned smartly on his heels and stalked off.
"Max, wait!" Mae ran after him. "You know I’m not part of this, right?" Max looked at her a moment, then
forced a smile and nodded.
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"All right, I’m going to say this once, and hopefully keep my temper," Max said, standing in front of all the
assembled team, save for Domingo, who had been sent to Max’ room on a made up errand. "Some of you
have a problem with Domingo. I don’t know who, and frankly, I don’t care."
"Domingo ate a centaur at Uranbatol. Some of you may feel uncomfortable about that, that only someone
born yesterday would see nothing wrong with eating sentient beings. Well, get this: at that time, Domingo
had LITERALLY been born yesterday. He’s a BABY. He’s a genius, but he’s still a hatchling." Max swept
the team with burning eyes.
"Now I’ve explained to him that he’s not to eat anything that can talk. In the meantime, he’ll make other
mistakes, learning how to be a part of civilized society. That’s what growing up is all about. And make no
mistake, he is just STARTING to grow up. And bear in mind, you are the first examples of your respective
species he’s met. You are his teachers on what other creatures are like. Remember that, next time you see
him."
"Any questions?" There were none. "Dismissed."
Some days later, Mae came back to him. "I think your speech did the trick, Max. Everyone’s pretty much
agreed to let it slide. And Amon wanted to ask permission about spending some time with Domingo. She’ll
be rising for a mating flight in a couple of weeks, and she’s feeling very maternal." Max nodded.
"Permission granted. Come here, look at those dolphins out there..." They stood side by side, watching the
aquatic mammals leaping around in a circular pattern. Max called out to Domingo, playing up in the
lookout nest with Hans. "Look at this, Domingo. These guys are sentient too. See what they’re doing?
There’s a school of fish in the center of that circle. They’re forcing the fish to stay together, and now they’re
going to start moving in, one at a time, to snap up their fill."
"Can they talk?"
"With a bit of an accent, yes. They kind of squeak out the words. Generally, if it’s sentient, it’ll be able to
talk, or communicate in some manner, at least." They watched the dolphins feeding for a while.
The quiet moment was broken by Han’s cry, "Monsters!" Max called up to him, and he clarified, "Sea bats,
and-Pegasus knights! Runefaust! RUNEFAUST!" And cabin doors opened and warriors barreled out of the
holds at top speed, their practice weapons traded for live ones.
Vankar, stumbling out of the stables, said, "Don’t worry. I’ll just take a bucket with me into battle," as his
face shifted through several shades of green.
Pelle passed him, saying, "you’ll be fine once the battle starts." Guntz moved to the center of the ship and
stayed there, throwing spears ready. As this was the first time he’d dared come out of his cabin in armour,
Max let him stay where he was.
"Domingo, go with Amon and Balbaroy. Give them spell support." Domingo dipped in a nod, then soared
up and joined the birdmen, swooping around the masts with Kokichi, awaiting the attackers.
Hans strung his bow, checked his arrow supply, then glanced down. "Oh," he breathed, then called out,
"We’re being boarded! Port and starboard decks! We’re being boarded!"
"Pelle, Vankar, Earnest, repel boarders to the starboard deck. Mae, Gort, Luke, with me to port deck!"
The boarders in question were shellfish of unusually large size. Their shells were several inches thick, from
which long tentacles of extreme and obvious strength waved sinuously, suckers looking to grab onto edible
targets. Rather than try to hack through the thick shell, Max waited for a tentacle to reach out for him, then
sheared it clean off. The mollusk immediately pulled all it’s remaining appendages inside it’s shell,
cowering from further damage. At this point, Anri, from behind him, cut loose with a spell, and a
whirlwhind of icy cold whipped up in the midst of the boarders, shards of ice congealing out of water vapor,
the shellfish writhing and shriveling into their shells in a vain attempt to avoid their fates. Max and the
Gladiators shoved the frozen seafood off the deck into the water below.
Turning to check on Domingo, Max watched as the Sky warriors swooped and struck, tearing into the
knights and bats with deadly effect. Domingo waved his tentacles, then cut loose with his own freeze spell,
sending several bats into the foaming sea. Kochichi turned aside to wave at Domingo approvingly.
"Kochichi, look out!" Too late, as a Pegasus knight slammed his lance into Kochichi’s flight pack, tearing
through the delicate structure. The dwarf dropped like a stone into the water below. "No," breathed Max,
just as Domingo slammed his body into the knight like a thick rubber projectile, knocking the knight back
into Amon’s sword. Balbaroy swooped down to the sea, trying to find their fallen comrade.
"Damn," Max muttered, "Damn, damn, da-" FWOOOM! "TAO! You don’t use fire on a ship!" This is not a
good day, Max thought to himself, the sweat of exertion heightened by the sweat of extreme stress. He
grabbed a bucket of water and began working on the flames, as Mae grabbed a tarp to smother them.
Finally, after the team had worked together to subdue the flames, Max ran to the railing and called out.
"Kochichi! Where is he?" Balbaroy swooped in for a landing, then pointed down at the sea. "Whoa," Max
swore involuntarily, then winced as Mae stepped on his foot with one metal shod hoof.
Kochichi was being held fast in the arms of a mermaid. Long blue hair cascaded down in a slick wet mass,
with a lithe beauty of...a teenager? No more than 16 years of age, tops. "My name is Shell of Waral. Thank
you for destroying those monsters! You can repair your ship in Waral, just follow me!" Max nodded, and
called out instructions, and the smoldering, damaged ship shifted course for the island of Waral.
"I’ve heard of Waral," said Nova, as they sailed towards the island.
"Do they have good shipyards?"
"I’m not sure. The stories didn’t exactly dwell on that subject."
"What do they have, then?"
"Good food, good drinks, attractive, VERY friendly people. You know, the essentials."
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Waral was truly a tropical paradise. Humans and Merfolk lived on the island, the sunken remnants of an
ancient volcano, formed into a lush semi circle of land, filled with lush vegetation, all carefully nurtured by
the humans. Fruits, vegetables, nuts, all of which they feasted on with the Merfolk, who brought delicacies
of the sea, fresh fish, shellfish, crustaceans, and edible seaweeds. The young men were leanly muscular
from working hard and playing at athletic endeavors, the young women were equally lithe and lean from the
same tasks, while the older humans were rounded, soft fat over hard muscles, their faces given over to the
wrinkles of a life of outdoors work and good humor, as opposed to the snit lines achieved by a lifetime with
a nasty attitude(resulting in old people who’ve scowled so much from the time they were young, the scowl
lines are permanently embedded into their faces). The merfolk, on the other hand, were perpetually youthful
and attractive. Shell turned out to be a 26 year old woman. "It’s a lot harder to move around in water than in
air," explained Shell’s aunt Shimol, who looked like a 17 year old herself, aside from a few laugh wrinkles,
"So we all stay very lean and hard." She waved her fin at Max, displaying smooth aquamarine scales and
translucent turquoise membranes. "Wanna feel?"
Mae promptly stepped on his foot.
The ship had been taken into the harbor, and merfolk and humans worked on it from top to bottom, as the
team took advantage of all the island had to offer. Max went with Anri to pay their respects to the Chief of
the island, who promptly renamed himself the King of the island, after learning of the title. Judging by the
reactions of the assembled islanders, this "political reorganization" was hardly a rare occurrence. The king
had a large pot belly, which he kept filled with good food from a platter that was kept filled at all times. He
kept pressing his visitors to partake of the edibles, showing a good humor and friendly nature that warmed
their hearts. "Try this one, it’s one of my favorite fruits." Delicious. "and this is a cookie made with fruits
and seaplants." Wonderful. "And this one is the flesh of a salmon, served raw and wrapped in onion." Max
stopped in mid swallow to begin choking it up, then stopped, considered, and thought, it’s not bad, either.
He took another bite and affirmed that thought.
Upon learning of the Shining Force’s abilities and purpose, the "King" immediately endeavored to hire
them. "One of our Friars has disappeared," he explained, taking a deep draught of a deceptively mild wine,
made from a fruit called "bananas," "he was last seen paddling out to Ring Reef. It’s where our merfolk
used to keep schools of fish. But now the currents have gotten too strong, and we daren’t go near the place."
"But he did?"
"Yes, and we haven’t seen hide nor hair of him since-oh, they just finished with the shrimp, have some. Can
you help us?"
"We’d be delighted, your Majesty," said Max.
"Majesty?"
"Ah, yes, that’s how Kings are addressed."
"Majesty? Majesty... it’s got a nice ring to it..."
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Max blinked his eyes slowly, then took stock of his surroundings. A little hut, made of island materials, the
thick grasses mostly. He was lying on the woven mats the humans of Waral used in place of heavy bedding.
He thought back and tried to remember what had happened.
Let’s see. I had Amon and Balbaroy do recon on the reef. When they found nothing except an
abandoned...hut? I went in on one of the rowboats by myself, and then...? Max rolled to his feet slowly,
stretching out the kinks.
"Well, I’m glad to see you’re up." Max whipped around to see an older man in the robes of a friar. "You
were thrown from your ship. I rescued you," the friar went on.
"Thank you. Kind of ironic, since I came here to rescue you." Max shrugged and gave a little grin.
The priest returned the grin. "I couldn’t get back to Waral, what with the strong currents. Fortunately, this
hut was here, so I’ve been OK. Strange doings are going on! The water in Ring reef vanished and a strange
creature appeared!"
"Any ideas?"
"It might have something to do with the legend of a Shining Path that leads to Metapha."
"Metapha?"
"The legend says Metapha is a land of the ancients. It’s supposed to be filled with the lost technology and
mystic secrets of the ancients." Max nodded.
After he’d finished getting dressed, and joined the friar in a quick draught of restorative tea, Max went to
investigate the reef. The water had indeed receded, to display a rounded structure, formed of some strange
blue substance. A jagged hole showed where the substance had been cracked by age, then imploded under
the pressure of the sea. Inside the structure was a glowing blue platform, whorls swirling across it. Max
looked at the platform a moment, deduced it’s purpose, and stepped onto it.
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Max found himself in a strange, otherworldly, "place" for lack of a better term. Nothing visible save
platforms and paths formed of pure, cool ice, above which shone clusters of stars, below which hung
impenetrable blackness. Then Max saw the creature the Friar had described. A skeleton. Runefaust, Max
thought to himself. The skeleton took no note of him, stepping it’s way down the path. Max followed.
The skeleton led him to a chamber, where a Mage in the robes of Runefaust stood before an assembly of
skeletons, hellhounds, and enormous, disgusting worms. The Mage chanted, "I invoke a path before me..."
Max suddenly skidded on the slippery ice, landing with a sharp grunt. "What?" The Mage stared at Max
with an expression not unakin to horror. "Shining Force! I was so close...so close! I shall destroy you all!"
All? thought Max, as a set of strong hands helped him to his feet. Max took in the team assembled, Mae,
Guntz, Gort and Luke, Zylo, and the archers. The priests. Tao and Domingo. "Right then, let’s do this,"
Max said in a determined voice.
The ice proved as treacherous footing for the skeletons and hellhounds as for the team. Tao enhanced this
by melting the ice with her blaze spell, then the team skewered the hellhounds and smashed the skeletons
where they lay. The worms proved slightly more difficult, their thick hides guarding multiple hearts and
vital organs. Chopping them up proved inefficient. Domingo froze them, and Zylo, Max, and Mae hurled
them off the platforms, into the seemingly bottomless void below. Finally, only the Mage remained.
Max adjusted his grip on his blade, only to have Tao’s small hand pull on his arm. "Let me do this," she
said. Max looked at her. "I have to redeem myself. The ship?" Max nodded, and Tao stepped forward.
"A Duel of Magi!" she called out. The old man, bent over his staff, sneered and nodded.
"A Duel of Magi!" he agreed. Then he lowered his staff and hurled forth icy death.
Tao countered with her blaze, and met the cloud of cold with a blast of pure heat. Steam obscured them
both, as they both battled with their strongest powers. "Tao!" cried Guntz, as he lunged forward to help her.
Max held him back. "She needs to do this," he said. Guntz gave him an anguished look, then nodded and
stepped back.
The center of the steam moved back and forth, as each combatant upped the ante, or ebbed momentarily.
Finally, the steam cloud flew forth and blasted into the far wall. When the steam finally cleared, a weary
Tao stood, covered in dampness, her robes and hair dripping, and her mouth set in grim triumph. The old
man stood there a moment, then collapsed slowly. "Aaaargh," he groaned, his flesh blistered and seared, his
eyes staring sightlessly, as his hands clutched at nothing. "I was so close...the way to Metapha...almost
ours..." he sighed and was still.
Guntz grabbed up Tao, holding her close yet gentle, and carried her over to where Lowe and Khris could
perform their work on her. She lifted up her hand and caressed his armored cheek tenderly, and smiled
wearily.
"Max, I have been waiting for you." Max looked around, hearing the voice of the spirit of the Pool of the
Ancients. "I used that mermaid to bring you here..."
"Why?"
"The Shining Path lies behind this door. It leads to the land of the Ancients. The key to the Accursed Door
is there. I shall open the way to the Shining Path now." The door began to shudder, in preperation to
opening.
Then the entire structure began to shudder, as rocks began falling down from the upper reaches of the door,
the door grinding to a halt as whatever mechanisms it used jammed. "No," cried the Mage in a thin voice,
raising one hand in a gesture of defiance, clutching his fist at Max. "Though it takes all of my remaining
strength, you shall not use the Path!" He went limp again, and Gort and Luke promptly made sure that he
would not rise again.
"Alas, the path is blocked," the Spirit spoke again. "Listen. Two things are needed to break free Dark
Dragon. Darksol must get the key to the door, as well as the Manual of the Seal."
"Manual?"
"The Manual is in Dragonia. You must stop Darksol. The seal must not be broken! Go to Prompt. There
you should find another Shining Path..." Then the voice receded, as the ground began shaking.
The ground is collapsing, thought Max. "Run!" several people cried simultaneously, and they all began
moving at top speed. Guntz carried Tao, Lowe, and Khris in his arms, moving at top speed. Mae slowed
long enough for Max to shove Gort and Luke onto her back, then they moved at top speed, Max making
sure that Domingo kept up.
The ice floor began to crack and split underneath them, large chunks falling off the floor behind them as
they ran. "Wait a minute," Max muttered, then concentrated and cut loose. "Egress!" And the team found
themselves on the shores of Ring Reef.
The Reef shuddered behind them, as the structure at it’s heart collapsed. Then the sea began spewing forth
from the portal. The swift currents ebbed and stilled, and the sea was calmed. Max took careful stock of
their situation, making sure everyone was present and accounted for. By that time, the Friar had shown up,
and explanations ensued.
"So the Shining Path was here! Too bad it’s blocked..." murmured the Friar.
"There’s another Shining Path in Prompt," said Max.
"What? You must go there at once!" Max nodded, and turned to be swept off his feet by a flustered Mae,
her face running the gamut of emotions, from relief to anger.
"You scared the hell out us! Don’t ever go off alone again!" Mae said, as she lifted him off the ground,
hugging him close as she looked him in the eyes. Max nodded, grateful for the plated armour protecting his
ribs from her crushingly fierce embrace.
"Yes, dear."
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The people of Waral were overjoyed to have the Friar safe again, and almost as glad to have their Ring Reef
reopened for the herding of fish. The King ordered three full days of feasting and partying, in which the
team thoroughly enjoyed themselves, though only Gort and Luke even approximated the drunk following
the battle at Uranbatol.
Max checked in on Kochichi on that first night. The dwarf was disconsolate after the destruction of his
flight pack, and Amon and Balbaroy had thus far been unable to cheer him up. "I can’t fly anymore," the
old Dwarf moaned, "what good can I do the team if I can’t fly?"
"Now stop that at once!" snapped Max, his desire to comfort suddenly tempered by his anger, "I don’t
tolerate whiners in the Shining Force!"
"But-"
"But nothing! You made one flight pack, you can make another! In the meantime, quit whining. You’re still
alive, and you’ve got the tools, the talent, and the materials to fly again. In the meantime, lighten up! It’s a
party!" Max grabbed a tray of the raw salmon and thrust them at him, waiting until he’d swallowed before
describing the ingredients...
Anri discussed trade deals with the King during the holiday, with a keen eye towards the delicious edibles
produced by the Island "kingdom." The Chief, as it turned out, was beloved by his people for his shrewd
negotiating tactics, being such a master of economic affairs that his very home, while of a size and splendor
befitting a much admired ruler, had well over two thirds converted to shops, which he ran for a tidy profit.
Anri countered his keen mind and charming personality with her own brilliant diplomatic mind, her sweet
nature, and her flirtations and outrageous flattery, stoking and stroking his immense ego. Before the
holidays had ended, the Chief, who had reverted to his original title after deeming the title "King" far too
"minor" for the lord of the island, had agreed to numerous trading agreements and charters.
"How did you get him to agree to this one here, on the Banana crop?" asked Nova, pointing at one of the
contracts. Anri just smiled. "Never mind," Nova said, and took a drink of the banana wine.
Lowe and Khris spent their time with the Friar. Upon discovering that he too was from Guardiana, they
spent much time together, discussing nuances of philosophy and theology, and praying together. On the
third day, Lowe came running up to Max, where he lay on the beach with Mae, her head in his lap, sharing
some fruit. "My prayers have been answered!" he cried.
"What about?" Max inquired, as he sliced a piece of flesh from a mango and plopped it into Mae’s mouth.
"I’ve been praying ever since we started across the sea, for a cure for seasickness. Just a short while ago, I
had a vision!" Lowe’s eyes became distant, as he remembered what he’d seen. "I beheld a bush, grown out
of a rock. And the bush was on fire, yet it did not burn. And I heard a voice, say unto me. It said, it said..."
"Yes?"
"It said, ‘Forget it, Vicar!’"
"This is a answer?"
"I said my prayers were answered," responded Lowe with a sniff, "I didn’t say they were fulfilled." Max
looked at him with an arched eyebrow, then fed Mae another piece of mango.
On the second day, Max greeted Bokken, who’d simply walked onto shore that morning, his head covered
by an enormous helmet with a glass plate for a visor. "It’s got a plant growing inside," he explained, "It
recycles the air as I breath."
"Does it ever run out?"
"Only if I exert myself too much. How’s the food? Is that...sashimi!" Bokken, it turned out, had a real taste
for raw fish. They spent much time talking about their travels, sharing their experiences. "I went to
Uranbatol, but since there were no ships, I’ve been walking along the sea with this helmet. I stop when I
reach an island, grab some food and water, rest, then move on," related Bokken.
"So where are you headed next?"
"Dunno. I think I’ll go to Dragonia. Maybe I’ll see a Sacred Dragon!"
Finally, the holiday ended, the ship was repaired, the relatively exotic edibles on board traded to the
islanders for their own fresh, native foodstuffs, and they set sail once again.
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For a week they had sailed on.
Kochichi had spent the first few days in his cabin drawing up blueprints. Occasionally, the others would
hear screams and curses from within. Occasionally, he would issue forth to grab food. Other times, he
would burst out in a rage, crumpling up a set of plans up and hurling them into the sea with an incoherent
roar.
Amon and Balbaroy helped as best they could, explaining all the nuances of bird’s wings and flight, down
to the feather’s ability to provide additional wingspan with maximum strength to weight ratio. Guntz was
particularly generous, allowing him to check out Dr. Crachet’s handiwork in order to build a new engine.
But it was Domingo who gave him his greatest inspiration. After talking with the little creature for a while,
Kochichi suddenly leapt up from the galley table and ran to his cabin. The next day, he began scrounging up
the materials for construction.
Guntz and Tao spent much time together, as she wove spells of illusion to tell fanciful stories, and he
demonstrated the learning attained as Crachet’s assistant to show her interesting mathematical puzzles.
"See, if I make this grid here where X is the horizontal point, and Y is the vertical, then I make Y=X2 the
equation, then watch. X=1, Y=1. X=2, Y=4. X=3, Y=9, and so on. So you start connecting the dots..." and
he drew a smooth curving shape, the ends flying off the top of the paper. "It’s called a parabola. And you
see this point here in the cup of the curve? That’s called the focus. If you shot lines into the parabola and
bounced them off the walls, they’d all end up passing through this point. So you can focus light and stuff
with a parabola. And its structure is stronger than most anything else, so you can use it for buildings,
bridges, sword hilts, anywhere you need a lot of strength. My armour’s got parabolic curves on it wherever
possible, for added strength." Tao stared at the paper, fascinated, then kissed him on his cheek(naturally he
was out of his armour. Did you think he wore it 24/7?).
Domingo spent much time playing with Max and Mae, and with Amon, who was starting to show signs of
imminent nesting, knitting warm blankets and pillows. "We don’t just sit on the egg," she explained. "It’s
far better to wrap it in warm, soft bedding, so we can make sure it’s nice and comfy, not too hot, not too
cold." Domingo dipped in agreement, then handed her some more yarn.
Gong spent his hours with Diane, or with Zylo, discussing nuances of combat applications of Chi.
Occasionally, the two could be seen hurling blasts of energy towards the horizon, with exhalations focused
into roars.
Khris was seen with the Paladins all over the ship. She seemed to be simply flirting more than anything else,
not limiting her attentions to any one of them. When asked, Pelle summed it up. "She’s cute, and funny, and
perky. That’s an irresistible combination. We’re just waiting for her to finally choose one of us."
"But in the meantime, aren’t you getting a little frustrated?" asked Max.
"The frustration’s part of the fun." Pelle grinned. "Besides, anything worth having’s worth waiting for."
Anri spent her time studying with Nova. Behind closed doors, where he could keep an eye on her. "You
know, you’re being SOOOO unfair."
"My prerogative. Now pipe down and turn to the next chapter."
"Look. I’m all grown up."
"I hadn’t noticed," Nova remarked dryly.
"I can make my own decisions! You are NOT my father." Nova jerked up, and stared at her closely, until
she began to flush and shrink into herself.
"You’re in the Shining Force, right?"
"Yes. Sir." Anri was much quieter in tone, already regretting her hasty remark.
"Max is our high commander. Mae’s the lieutenant and field commander. I’m the flag commander. That
means I outrank you. You still with me?"
"Yes, sir."
"If you’re going to rule Guardiana, you need to learn how to behave. That’s why you were sent to Manarina
in the first place."
Anri lowered her eyes to the floor. "Yes, sir. But-"
"But WHAT?"
"Why do I have to behave, when everyone else gets to have fun?"
Nova looked at her a moment, then hugged her. "You’re the Princess. The Queen, once we get back. You
get a lot of privileges, like wealth and power. But you have to pay the price. You have to hold yourself to a
standard higher then that of the others. You’re going to have an entire nation, and the rulers of the other
nations, watching everything you do. That means you have to be careful of what you say and do."
"But why me?" Nova pressed his nose to her forehead in a lupine kiss.
"Because that’s your destiny. We all have a destiny. Max’ is to be the leader of the Shining Force.
Kochichi’s is to develop flight for flightless creatures. Yours is to be Queen."
Anri looked up at him with a little smile. "What about you?"
Nova rolled his eyes and assumed a tragic air. "My destiny is to die painfully of an ulcerated stomach,
caused by the stress of dealing with modern youth." Anri giggled and hugged him tightly.
"I love you, Nova." She whispered into his fur.
"Good to hear it," Nova returned in a voice gruff with emotion. "Now back to the books."
******************************************************************************************
A day later, the monsters attacked.
A wave of the hideous shellfish crawled on board, herded along by two pegasi knights and a gargoyle
commanding a flight of seabats. Hans, from his vantage point up in the lookout nest, and Gong and Zylo,
practicing their chi powers up on deck, were able to hold off the foes until the others could ready
themselves and join the fray. "What about your armour?" Mae asked Max as he rushed in with his steel
blade clutched with a two handed grip.
"No time." And with a powerful sweep of his sword, Max bisected a bat, wading into battle with teeth
bared. Mae’s lance, formed completely of the same watered steel as Max’ blade, was more than massive
enough and sturdy enough to pierce the conch shells to the soft vital organs within. As the other Paladins
readied themselves, they too charged out and struck with their new lances, courtesy of Anri’s negotiations
with the Chief of Waral. The Gladiators charged in with their axes, taken as booty from the slain Lizardmen
of Elliot’s force. The massive blades possessed an internal core of a magical power source, which heated
the blades to a blazing red. Formed of esoteric metals with high melting points, the blades melted as they
cut through shells/bones/armour/any hard substance protecting softer areas. The shellfish proved easy to
kill. But there were so many of them!
Zylo and Gong made use of their developed skills. With a muffled whoof, Zylo slammed a bat with a
concessive wave, shattering the hollow wing bones and dropping it into the sea. Gong caught a knight a
glancing blow to the wing, dropping him to the deck where Guntz paused in the midst of hurling spears at
the aerial opponents to jab the fallen winged centaur once, twice, through the chinks in his armour.
In the course of the battle, Max eventually found himself clinging to the riggings, swiping at the bats, then
up in the lookout nest with Hans, where he provided the archer with close range protection and freed Amon
and Balbaroy to draw some of the bats away.
Then the Gargoyle swooped in on Max. Max readied himself to strike, but the Gargoyle pulled up short
with a flaring of his immense wings, and growled out a quick spell. Suddenly, Max’ vision became clouded.
His sight slowly blurred, sharp images becoming blurred, light become dark, until all he could make out was
vague shadows. The Gargoyle sneered and dove in, knocking Max from the mast. Max desperately grabbed
the gargoyle, wrapping both legs around him and his sword arm, as he grabbed for his knife. The gargoyle
responded by savaging his face and torso with his claws and chest, before Max finally freed his
tunnel/trench fighting knife, and sank the thick serrated blade into the scaly chest. Repeatedly pulling the
blade out and jabbing again and again, the blinded Hero continued to battle desperately until he slammed in
the deck, his fall slowed sufficiently by the gargoyle’s wings that instead of cracking his skull, he "merely"
suffered a concussion and several broken bones, as incapacitating as the badly bleeding wounds the
Gargoyle had given him. It’s dead weight lay on top of him, his body too damaged to muster the strength to
shove it off.
Max lay there, his body in excruciating pain, for what seemed an eternity. The sounds of battle roared dimly
in his ears, as though from a far off distance, but he simply lay there, twitching feebly, groaning softly in
agony.
Finally, the corpse was dragged off of him, and concerned voices from a far off place reached his ears.
"Dear God, is he alive?" Mae... Max tried to call to her, but only a moan came out.
"He’s in bad shape. We’ll do what we can." Lowe, Max recognized, and three sets of hands rested on his
body to heal him. He jerked in agony, the touch exacerbating his pain. The pain slowly eased, as the divine
healing power worked on him.
"Stay with us, Max. Don’t leave me!"
"Mae..." Max finally managed to whisper. The effort of speaking sent him down a sliding tunnel into
blackness.
As unconsciousness brought him into her merciful anesthetic embrace, the last thing he heard was, "Those
creatures destroyed the helm. We can’t navigate..."
*****************************************End of Part 5*************************************
Author’s note: And so Mae and Max finally embrace their true feelings for each other-not to mention each
other. Love is a wonderful thing, and the part of this story I most enjoy writing about is the part where
characters share it. Mere battle scenes cannot compare.
Tao and Guntz seemed like a decent match up. So did Diane and Gong. Opposites attract, you say? In a
sense. Tao is a wizard par excellance, while Guntz is a scientific researcher’s assistant with the skills
needed to service and repair his armour. But both are intellectuals, with a love of books and learning. Diane
is a diminutive elf, while Gong is a hulking ogre. Yet both are gentle, kindly souls, with an inner core of
strength and disciplined natures. Like chocolate icing on chocolate cake, two tastes similar yet different,
complimenting each other beautifully, either one incomplete on it’s own. And like the dessert, so
wonderfully sweet.
The mathematical discourse was an expression of my belief that authors should attempt to educate,
enlighten, as well as entertain their readers(the three Es). Before I go further on this, let me express my
admiration for Weiila and her incredible stories. Of all her work on RPGClassics, the only one I haven’t
gotten around to diving into is "Kain." I admit to some trepidation before reading "Hanging Around," due
to the mention of certain spandex wearing Japanese imported stars of a half hour long commercial, but her
handling of they who shall not defile my story by being named (in particular, their demise) wins her a big
kudos in my book. Her humorous stories are very good, not very many gut splitters, but a continuous series
of chuckles, kind of like the late George Burns. Her serious work, on the other hand, in particular, "Magus’
Quest," highlights my statements. As you read her work, you discover the hidden motivations of the villains,
their drives and desires elevating them above the generic V-title into complex characters that the reader can
truly empathize with. Weiila enlightens her readers as she titillates them, and reminds me of professional
and published SF author Lois McMaster Bujold, who also presents 3 dimensional characters, with both dark
and horrific scenery and powerfully moving dialogues/monologues, and humorous dialogue and situational
comedy(did I mention that Ms. Bujold is my current favorite author?). If Weiila will continue to hone her
skills as an author and develop her own characters(if her skill at handling other writers’ creations is any
indication, she should have no trouble on that score), she has a definite future in the field of fictional
literature(this is the same reason I write fanfics myself. Anything worth doing requires practice to do well).
Anyhow. Math is a vitally important skill to develop. Ever hear somebody say, "I NEVER had to use math
outside of school?" Notice how the only ones who make a decent living without sweating their buts off in
the process are comedians of sufficient talent to obtain a role on a sitcom? So I demonstrated a little
example of Precalculus, with some of the applications that result. That little equation Y=X2 and the
Parabola make your life easier with everything from the sturdy arched bridge that bears the weight of
thousands of tons of vehicular mass each day, to the headlights mounted on those machines. And yes, math
is HARD. But it can be fun, too, like a crossword, a maze, or... a puzzle within an RPG?
Anri’s antics and frolics with... well, with roughly two thirds of the male members of the SF, are what
happens when children exposed to OVERLY disciplined and regulated lives are suddenly cut free, due to a
parent dying, leaving a school run by administrators and teachers that move one to check the records to see
if the Israelis would like to meet them to discuss their roles during the war, or whatnot. I had a friend whose
mother not only ruled with an iron fist, but actually charged him rent at the age of 17, even as she insisted
on a 9:30 curfew. After her untimely death of a stroke, he became totally uncontrollable, particularly
considering that his father was useless in the child rearing department. At every opportunity, he’d join us for
nights out. And every night after 9:30, he’d become a brooding monster. Eventually, he became less and
less fun to be around, as he became wilder and more prone to do insane things. He simply exploded with the
repressed drives that had been suppressed for so long.
Now Anri, on the other hand, has the good fortune to have a strong surrogate father figure in her life. With
Nova to set the rules with a firm but loving hand, Anri’s antics will be coming to an end, as she matures into
a young lady ready for her role in life. Needless to say, Max will be much relieved...
Note that I’m not suggesting that children not be disciplined. All children require rules. And if you say "But
I’m not a child, I’m..." and state an age that ends in "-teen," yes you are. If you’re reading this, you’re
probably an intelligent and thoughtful kid, but you are still a kid. I personally feel that the age of maturity
has risen along with our lifespans and intellectual advancements, that where 13 was sufficient for Bar
Mitzvah, marriage, and a life of grueling labor, 21 is the very LEAST that should be considered adult.
Modern man is a creature of far greater intellectual and emotional ability than his forefathers(as example,
these days the concept of slavery, once considered perfectly natural and vital to the economy, is now almost
universally held to be immoral. Average IQs rose 10 points last century. The only athletic records of
antiquity that have yet to be broken are the long jump records of the Greeks-they possessed strange disks of
stone to achieve distances comparable to modern triple jump distances, and modern athletes are yet unable
to comprehend their use) and as such, requires more time and resources to fulfill his potential. So unless you
have truly despicable parents(not likely, if they’ve given you sufficient time and resources to enjoy yourself
by surfing the ‘net), don’t be too upset when they lay down the law. And once you grow up, you WILL
thank them for it. I did.
Now Khris, on the other hand, with parents both dutiful and loving, has maintained the standards set for her,
refraining from anything much besides occasional flirtations. Thus, no morning after scene for her, and no
hangover(Just because someone makes a toast doesn’t mean you have to drain the glass. Wetting your lips is
quite adequate, or even just raising the glass in agreement). And Pelle’s statement of "Cute, funny, and
perky" being irresistible to guys, is pretty much accurate. Keep posted to see who she finally decides to
match up with. You may be surprised...
Max’ rant to Kochichi highlights a pet peeve of mine. Everybody has problems. Complaining is one thing.
Whining quite another. Anytime you find yourself overwhelmed by personal problems, check the basics.
Did you wake up in a bed? Did you eat today? Do you have the wealth and leisure to scan a story off a
website with a computer hooked up to the internet? You’re ahead of about 90% of humanity right there.
And once you break through your doldrums, you’ll find that your problems aren’t so bad after all.
Kochichi’s loss of his flight pack isn’t an end to his days as a flyboy. It’s an opportunity to make an even
better flight pack, making him an even tougher combatant.
As a personal example, I’m built along the same lines as Gong. I scare people. Now I could spend time
moping about how I intimidate people without meaning to, jerks assuming that my great size means a lack
in intelligence, and the fact that acrobatics and calisthenics are no easy thing for me (the human form is
most efficient in terms of strength/weight ratio at a height of about 5’4" to 5’6"). Instead, I take heart in
how I can reach high shelves without a stepladder, and being able to use my size and strength to help out
others. And learning to perform cartwheels, flips, and pullups despite being built something like the big
goon Billy Crystal encountered in a Ninja monastery in Florida, in the series "Soap" ("Maybe we should
have left the gun at home and brought the piano..." "Jodie, promise me you won’t fight that guy." "Maggie,
I’d kill myself before I fought that guy..."), not only is a source of personal pride, but means that I move as
fast as many lightweights, and hit like a sledgehammer.
Max’ terrible injuries received at the end of the story highlight yet another point. No matter how good you
are, you’re are GOING to take damage if you spend a lot of time fighting. The contusions and such of
repeated blows are going to ache in the mornings. The cuts of knife fighting will lead to scarring and
possibly permanent crippling injury. And even with modern dentistry, even if you go to a competent dentist
in Mexico who works for a fraction of the cost of an American dentist, having teeth knocked out gets
expensive... and no matter how good you are, dumb luck, a slippery patch of terrain, a momentary
distraction, a factor that you didn’t account for, can mean that you end up taking a fall. Don’t go looking for
a fight. Don’t push a confrontation into violence. This will leave you more time to enjoy good food, good
friends, and good literature(am I egocentric, or what?).
In our next installment, we’ll see the introduction of some new members to the team, further developments
in Max’ little surrogate family, and I’ll even take a swing at humanizing a pair of villains.
Oh, and my E-Mail address has changed. It’s now archone89144@yahoo.com.