"This is an event that will be remembered in history books," chattered the reporter in front of a camera, "the engagement of Aisha of Cloud and Supreme Commander Arthur Pendragon has finally become official!"

"With this move," wrote a journalist on his notebook, "The relationship between the two nations will finally be solidified."

"I can't believe Princess Aisha would grow up so fast," said a well-dressed man, a noble of Cloud, wiping his teary eyes, "it seems like it was just yesterday when she beat the snot out of me in a duel."

"Silence Fueguard," rebuked his wife, "I did not expect such unrefined words to come out of your mouth."

"Oh!" Fueguard let out, realizing his fault, "forgive me dear, old habits die hard. I wasn't always a noble you know?"

"Oh shut up," whined the woman wrinkling her wrinkly face even more. "Here she comes, conduct yourself properly."

Aisha and Arthur Pendragon walked featly towards them; looking at them from afar, they looked like the perfect match. Aisha greeted them first with a smile, without forgetting to thank Fueguard for all his guidance as he had been teaching her magic since she was young. Arthur similarly greeted them with a radiant smile.

"Lady Fusha of the House of Bach," Arthur said, taking her flimsy hand and kissing it, "I am most delighted to meet your acquaintance."

"As I am," cheerfully replied Fusha, "Sir Arthur."

Fuegaurd would lie if he said he wasn't offended by Arthur's nonchalant disregard of his presence. Nonetheless, he knew his place well; thus, he never tried to outshine other nobles, considering he merely married into one.

"I heard this occasion should have been celebrated months ago, what happened?" asked Fueguard.

Fueguard's wife eyed him with distaste, and he responded with a perplexed expression. Fusha immediately resolved to scold him once they got home, for being so insolent as to be so casual with Arthur.

"Ah!" expressed Arthur with elegance, getting the favorable approval of Fusha, "Sir Fueguard, forgive my insolence, I did not notice you. Apparently some madman of a police man considered it right to seduce Miss Aisha here. I have already taken steps to resolve this problem."

"Steps?" Aisha couldn't help but ask. "Could Sir Arthur please explain his meaning?"

"Miss Aisha," pronounced Arthur, "I have put Arthur Crane in the police's wanted list as well as posted a request of capture in the mercenary guild's bulletins. Having insulted the princess of Cloud and at the same time putting the relationship of Cloud and Branch in jeopardy, he is now one of the top wanted criminals in the country. I suggest you do the same in yours, lest he escape there and take refuge."

In an instant the air began to thicken and everyone around the vicinity began finding breathing slightly difficult as the air pressure suddenly increased. Fueguard instantly realized the source: Aisha was exploding in copious amounts of mana. Her mana had always surprised Fueguard; it was always so vast that had she released all of it in an instant, covering a whole country in a thin mana fabric wouldn't have been impossible.

Arthur promptly caught on and saw the contrast between Aisha's endearing demeanor and her invisible mana attack. Arthur, however, was unfazed. A second later, something glowed in one of Arthur's rings and the pressure surrounding them instantly disappeared, surprising not only Fueguard but Aisha herself.

'How did he do that?' Aisha thought, surprised.

"Ms. Aisha," Arthur told her, "might you excuse me for a second, I have some business to attend to."

Although Arthur did not show it, he was offended by what Aisha had just done; nonetheless, for the sake of his plans, he must endure her impudence a bit more.

As Arthur left Aisha there, standing in a daze, Fueguard called her attention.

"Aisha," said he, bearing all seriousness, "he's dangerous. Be careful."

"I know," whispered Aisha, replying.

"Anyway, why the sudden reaction? I've never seen you so angry before."

Aisha did not answer him, instead she walked away; her gait was somewhat forced as if there was something bugging her mind. An instant later, she stopped mid-way her procession and stood still, as if hesitating to say something.

"Old man," she finally called out. Whenever she called him that, Fueguard knew that she wanted to ask him something personal, and it was always a favor Fueguard, out of love for his disciple, couldn't deny. "Please protect Arthur."

"If you ask me," he responded, jokingly, "I'd be the one needing protection from him."

"I don't mean Pendragon, I mean Crane."

'Ah!' Fueguard immediately caught on. Although he did not experience the luxury of a noble's upbringing, he wasn't a dunce, it wasn't hard to put facts into order. This was a personal request from Aisha, to protect someone whom she should despise. At that moment Fueguard knew—Crane was innocent. If anything he was guilty of only one crime, stealing his disciple's heart.

Fueguard promptly left his wife, telling her that something important had just come up and that he needed to address the issue. Fusha wasn't too strict about Fueguard's activity, she simply let him do things he wanted to do, that was why she did not object to him leaving the vicinity. Thus, Fueguard began his crusade, to rescue a man from his doom.

***

Arthur could not fathom what had just happened. He was simply racking up his brains for a solution to his problem, he had to tell Aisha what he wasn't able to tell her at the lake, even if he'd get rejected afterwards. "Better to try and regret, than to regret not trying," as the saying went. However, as he was standing at the station's lobby, gazing intently at the news, a group of policemen came to him and rudely cuffed him without warning. He pleaded for his rights but no one listened.

He was then placed into the room where he was currently sitting. It looked like, judging from the one-way mirror at the side and his scarcely furnished surroundings, he was in an interrogation room. The next minute a policeman entered through the deftly locked doors. The one who entered was a high ranking official and well-known for his feats.

"Arthur Crane," the official said, sitting down on the metallic chair at the edge of the table opposite Arthur. He read a file of papers pertinently placed in a folder. "No criminal records. Been in the force for a little over five years. Other than that, you're still a mystery."

"Chief," Arthur told him, wiggling his two hands cuffed over the back of the chair. "Whatever this is, I am innocent."

"Exactly what a thief would say, only in your case, you're accused of subterfuge and high treason."

The official took a cigare from the pocket under his jacket. He lit it up and took a puff of smoke. "Meh, innocent or not you're going to face the sword."

"Sword?" Arthur panicked, "Chief I beg you, there is still something I must do."

"There is a way to save you," the chief said, exhaling a plume, "right now, everyone's out on missions. I'm the only one here, if you're going to do something I suggest you do it fast."

Arthur was perplexed, for a moment there it seemed as if the chief knew of his plan, or to rephrase it properly, it seemed as though he approved of it.

"Who are you?"

"No one. Just do it."

The next instant Arthur broke free from the cuffs, instantly grabbing the pistol he hid in his shoe. He pointed the barrel's end at the officer's head.

"I'm sorry—"

*Bang*

An explosion erupted from the pistol and a projectile hit the officer squarely on the head, causing him to fall on the ground, appearing as though he was silently dead. Arthur then took the keys and went out of the room.

What happened there was the mutual collaboration and understanding of two people. Arthur knew that the chief somehow gave his approval for his escape. Yet, had he exited without doing harm to the chief, the chief would also be suspected of allying with him so what he did was shot him—

—With a sleeping bullet. This was so to divert attention to him, he was already suspect of some crime, and not just any crime, it was no less than subterfuge and treachery; in that case, it was wise to not involve anyone else.

Arthur ran without a goal, he racked his brain fast for a plan, in an instant he realized he lacked the right information to formulate one. Luckily, however, he could count on Sasha regarding these matters, but in order to not involve her he had to do it through subtle means.

***

Arthur had already disguised himself as a street dweller, sitting limply on the sidewalk. A little earlier he sent Sasha a coded message to meet him at the city square. The message was sent via paper plane, imbued with a magic circuit (written with his blood as ink to conduct aether) that was programmed to fly to Sasha's apartment. By now, she should have already read it and was on her way to the city square.

Arthur was lying down on the floor. Serving as his mat were the pieces of newspapers he had gotten, along with the tattered bits of clothing he was wearing as a disguise, from a garbage dump somewhere. A little bit later a woman dropped a piece of paper beside him, he looked at the woman and said thanks in his heart. Sasha believed him, and had brought the important details he needed.

He read the note and discovered the reason behind the accusations slung at him for no reason—he was being blamed for offending the monarchy of Cloud and betraying his own nation by infringing on national interests. Nonetheless, after continuing on reading the note, he was happy to know Aisha was alright. If only he could find a way to get out of this mess—a solution where every party would be appeased. The last part of the note said something about Sasha wanting to meet with him at the heroes' graveyard. Thankfully, Arthur had formerly planned on going to the heroes' graveyard because there was something he wanted to retrieve from there so it wasn't detrimental on his part to go along with the plan.

He hurried to the bus station and rode a bus; after a few hours, he arrived at his destination an hour early. He hastened his steps and looked for a particular graveyard. After finding it he took a piece of news paper and a knife. He placed the newspaper on the ground atop the grave before him and used the knife to cut a wound on his palm and used his blood as ink to write a circle on the paper and a spiral inside the circle.

These were the fundamental elements of a magic circuit. First was the conductor—namely, anything that existed as everything conducted aether. In an ideal situation the best conductor to use was bronzite, a metallic element mined from the earth, but without it Arthur was forced to use an alternative conductor which was a slightly better conductor from the things around him—his blood.

Arthur channeled the aether in his surroundings to the second element of a magic circuit—the directional path of aether. The circular path produced friction on the paper as the aether went circling around its surface. As the aether winded faster and faster it produced enough heat to slowly burn the paper. Next, before the fire could consume the spiral path, Arthur instantly channeled aether in a quick continuous gust from the outer edge of the spiral to the central point, sucking the air around it and creating a small vortex.

The fire mixed with the vortex creating a vortex of fire digging into the earth. All magic circuits operated this way. Through the use of various combinations of directional paths, conductor, and the surrounding environment or surface area upon which the circuit is written, various effects could be produced. Every technology in Gaia used this concept in more complicated ways.

"Complimenting a fire circuit with a vortex circuit to make up for your lack of activation power. Quite impressive if I must say so myself."

Arthur was stunned to hear those sudden comments from out of nowhere. He looked to his side and found a figure of a woman in a black outfit which covered her whole body. The outfit was loose around the arms and the legs but tight at the rims. The woman had her face covered in cloth except her eyes.

Arthur recognized this outfit.

"Cast Shadow!"

"No," replied the woman. "We don't call ourselves that anymore, we're called Shadow Elites now."

"Who are you?" Arthur growled.

"Name's Wisp."

On hearing those words Arthur's eyes widened in shock.