Darkness and light. Within the sacred hallowed halls of Mount Freiweils, Barak had learned much and understood little. The plight of his race had been, from the beginning, a stacked deck. The odds of his people being rescued by the reincarnation of the past was astronomical. But he had seen images of them. Barak had seen the former Queen of Antar and the commander of the former royal army.

It was seeing the stories of old come to life. His father recounted tales of glory under the command of such a great king and also commmander. And it had always been Barak's dream to follow in his father's footsteps. But then he died. It had been sudden; and he had been so young.

Fadilia, the Queen Mother had been the most unlikely guardian. She walked the hallowed halls as if gliding, like some ethereal being. She was unlike any other person he had ever encountered.

And it was for her, her sake alone, that he had taken on such a task.

"Time is running short," Nicholas hissed, glancing behind him. "We have this minor obstacle to overcome before getting underway."

"Do you think that underestimating your enemy is wise?"

Barak studied the robed alien standing a stone's throw away from them. He was all that was left in the command center of the mountainous base. He was average in stature and quite thin. The robe garment hid many of his physical attributes, so neither he nor Nicholas could be quite sure as to his agility, speed, or power.

"Do not think that I am blinded by his unassuming nature," Nicholas snapped. "I know very well about our unexpected greeting."

"You will not succeed," Larek declared confidently, as he stepped forward to confront the duo. "The Unseen will not be denied."

"Oh Larek," Nicholas scoffed, shaking his head at the sad second-rate advisor to the Ithmarian throne. "Why do you even bother? You must know this is futile."

Larek knew that he had the advantage - the Loyalists had the advantage. Neither Nicholas nor his ruthless commander knew of Maxwell and Isabel's arrival on Antar. All he needed was to give them time to safely return to Eshtari and disrupt the impending coronation. "Not as futile as some would like us to think," he commented casually, skirting around Nicholas. "There are still a few surprises in store for you and your treacherous liege."

"And what is that per se?"

Barak shifted uneasily as he saw the Ithmarian's gaze flicker towards his direction. It was as if he knew that he was an imposter. And that was something he could not have a this point. It was not his time yet. "Would you have me dispatch him quickly, Sir?"

Nicholas frowned at the interruption. He had forgotten Barak was still with him. "No, I will handle Larek," he mused. "We are old acquaintances."

"Yes, Commander."

"But," Nicholas said abruptly. "I do, however, want you to plant the static-warp explosives along the main corridor."

"Sir?" Barak had not expected this. In fact, he did not realize Nicholas came equipped with any explosives at all.

"Here," he handed four silver compacts to Barak, "do this quickly. This shouldn't take long." He moved towards Larek, who seemed to steady himself for battle. "Are you ready to perish in the good name of His Majesty, King Khivar?" Nicholas smirked. "I promise, it will be quick."

Barak accepted the minature charges hidden in the sealed compacts. He turned and watched as Larek and Nicholas faced off. It would not be an equal challenge. Nicholas was a formidable opponent, even for his size and stature. He was powerful. However, the Ithmarian physiology was not as well known to him. Though they were known for their intellect, he did not know what they could possibly have to challenge Nicholas' mindbending will.

He prayed to the Unseen that the Ithmarian might have something to catch Nicholas off guard, because if Larek didn't, he would be forced to watch Mount Freiweils come tumbling down.

The guards set a pre-emptive strike, rendering an already weak Medgio helpless. Tess was faced with this task alone. It was kill or be captured. There was no other choice.

Focusing all of her mental energies on the armed guards before her, she unleashed upon them a powerful wave of static electricity that sent all of the guards sprawled onto the ground. Stumbling back, Tess wavered a moment, reeling from the staggering amount of energy she had just produced in seconds. Then after taking a breath and clearing her head, she kneeled before Medgio, slipping his arm around her neck, and helping him to his feet. Briefly, she glanced up at her mother's lifeless body. They would have to leave it here. She hadn't the strength to carry two bodies, and Medgio was unable to carry his own weight, let alone dead body.

Still, there was a part of her that hated the thought of leaving her behind. It wasn't... Tess blinked once, unsure of herself. She could have sworn she heard a quiet gasping sound emanate from her mother's body.

Wishful thinking. There was no time for dawdling.

"We have to get out of here before anybody else comes," she gasped, gritting her teeth under his weight.

It was only a split second before Tess saw the movement out of the corner of her eye. But when she turned to see one lone guard come around the corner of the entrance way; it was already too late. With a flash, everything fell to black.

The light was blinding; and as the ebb of life filled the once devoid body, the conscienceness of being began to awaken the senses. She could feel the dampness of the cool air against her skin. And the tingling sensations prickled her whole body. She felt like her whole being was being sucked through a numbing vortex. Her mind was unable to comprehend where she was.

And then in one moment, she breathed life anew.

"Are you sure your body is up to the task," Fadilia asked, slightly hovering over her daughter. "You are still recovering from the healing."

"I'm fine," Isabel said, a little exasperated with the concern of both her brother and mother. "I'll be fine."

Max had been plotting the course with the young officer they had conscripted from the Loyalist base. It left her and Fadilia alone for long periods of...long uncomfortable periods of time.

"I know that my presence is still of a shock to you, but you must understand that I speak only out of concern for you, Isabel." Fadilia consciously spoke the Earthen name. It seemed as if her daughter flinched at the mention of her former self - like the name somehow burned her physical body. "You are still my daughter," she whispered softly. "And I am here for you. Whatever trials and tribulations you may be struggling through."

"Really?" Isabel questioned, gazing intently at her 'biological' mother. "Then where were you when I called to you?"

The memories of speaking to her mother for the first time, as if she truly existed, flashed before her eyes. She remembered the feel of her pink satin gown, torn and tattered from the harrowing night, as she fell to her knees in tears. All Isabel had wanted that night was her mother's arms to enfold her and whisper comforting words.

The alien being before her said nothing - seemingly at a loss for words.

And it had been the same that night.

"See, your concern for me back then was useless," Isabel hissed, her eyes brimming with tears. "Because you were here, millions or billions of miles or whatever the hell measurements you use, away."

Fadilia understood her pain and hurt. She understood why Isabel had felt abandoned. But there was nothing she could do, except wait for their return. "I prayed every night that I could have gone with you," she said half-heartedly, knowing her words were in vain. They could not dispell the years of absense.

"Well you weren't." Isabel turned away, closing the door on this conversation. But apparently her 'mother' didn't get the hint.

"I imagined you from the very first moment you left us," Fadilia said wistfully. "Your golden locks, your unfading beauty never left me."

Isabel closed her eyes, trying to focus on something else, not wanting to listen to Fadilia's sob story.

"When Andaria informed me of both your deaths, I did not think I could go on. It was as if someone had torn the heart out of me. And I could not breathe. My children - I never imagined that I should outlive them." She shook her head, remembering the feeling of disassociating with time, as if her world was tumbling into chaos. "And Zan had sent me away, making sure that Khivar could not harm me," she whispered. "And I was so far away from you."

Isabel bit the inside of her cheek, forcing herself not to respond. She turned to study her mother's pained expression. Fadilia's eyes were closed, as if she were reliving each moment right in front of Isabel.

She knew exactly what that was like. Having to let go of people she loved when she could not save them.

"But then Radim spoke of your new life," Fadilia said, opening her eyes and turning to reach out to her daughter. "I had hope again. That one day I would see you again."

"And what were we left with?" Isabel accused softly. "We had no idea what or who we were."

Fadilia nodded and shook her head at the unexpected obstacless the Unseen had put in her children's path. "Nothing went according to the architects' plans," she admitted. "There was a crash and most of your guardians had been killed or captured and tortured by the human race. Nasedo was the only one who survived."

"Well I know all of this now."

"And you should know we did what we thought was best." Fadilia leaned in, tilting her head to look into her daughter's hooded eyes. Everything inside of her prayed she had reached her. She had hoped Isabel understood that they had done this to save them and Antar.

"I understand my hand-crafted purpose," Isabel stated, keeping herself at a distance. She could not let herself trust this woman...alien form. "And I will fulfill my purpose."

Fadilia furrowed her brow. She did not like the increasingly detached state Isabel was retreating into. It frightened her.

"And I will finally be at your side to help you," she quietly declared, unable to confront Isabel about her concerns. "The way it should have been in the last time."

Isabel glanced up at her mother, who had placed her lightly upon hers. She swallowed hard, unsure of the emotions that continued to swell up within her. Gritting her teeth, she closed her eyes tightly rested head back against her seat. "We will see about that," she breathed, with a slight skepticism.

However Fadilia's hand remained upon hers, squeezing hers tightly.

"My pure Antarian subjects of high and low class alike," Khivar greeted, gesturing with wide open arms to the Antarians below. "I am proud to announce that in the light of tonight's fitting coronation, I, your King, have brought to you a symbol of my love, for you, my people."

There was shouts of joy and anticipation intermingled with many silent rumblings.

Khivar suspected as much. The Loyalist contingent's arrival, though minor as they may have been, disguised as faithful servants and laborers, were apprehensive. It was to be expected - since his plans were to the benefit of him, Khivar, King of Antar. And soon-to-be so much more.

"If you join with me, peering up to the celestial observatory's tower, my gift to you will now be unveiled!"

Oh, it would be a beautiful and humbling sight. All would bow to him after this night. No one would stop him. It would be something unthinkable. Not after I get through with the unevolved, inconsequential beings now before me.

With a short burst of energy lighting the nightsky, he signalled for it all to begin.

It was just a matter of time.

Siothrun stood amidst a small pile of bodies. Architects. He imagined Khivar would be much more of a challenge than to guard such a priceless machination than with a group of architects. "Have you set the detonations?" he growled over his shoulder as he guarded the turret entrance. He had no idea how Yasu did it, but the strong yet unassuming figure had managed to lead them through unmarked passages to this tower.

Siothrun had been livid. They had been trying to escape, not trapped into an inescapable corner. That was, until they had forced their way into what looked like an abandoned tower.

"The explosives seem to have been damaged in our brief encounter with those guards," Essmond shouted, his head buried underneath the looming machine, called Pilan. "Give me time!"

"We do not have time," Yasu declared darkly. "The machine seems to be connected to a secondary wireless remote. If the architects do not initiate Project Pilan, it seems Khivar was intelligent enough to have a back-up plan."

Siothrun gritted his teeth as he heard the fast approaching echo of footsteps. "You'd better figure out something fast," he warned. "Because we have reinforcements coming our way." Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Essmond still trying to repair several of the containment units of explosives; while Yasu seemed to hovering in a corner, fiddling with the many glowing lights of the unmanned control panel.

I cannot believe he is playing with buttons at a time such as this!

"Hey-! We have company!" he yelled, as the group of guards converged upon him, pushing him back into the tower room. Siothrun tried to keep them at a distance as Essmond was setting the explosives, but these guards seemed well-trained and far more experienced than the others they had faced. "Damnation! A little help!"

The focus of the soldiers seem to diverge, leaving it more manageable, yet still overwhelmed.

"For Kedar!" Yasu cried.

That was the last thing Siothrun heard as a surge of guards broke forth, overwhelming them all.

Turbulence. Max held tightly to his seat and anything else he could grab onto as the carrier was rocked by something unseen. He glanced back to see both Isabel and Fadilia clinging to anything bolted down. Their expressions full of worry.

"We're being fired upon," Quirinius cried, trying to keep the ship stable and maneuver past the unfriendly fire. "Our shields are down and one of our engines is out of commission."

Max frowned. "Is there any clearing where we can possibly land?"

"No, just dense forest."

Damn.

"One more blast and..."

Max felt his rise to his throat, as if going down in an elevator. They were going down. They were going to crash. He wasn't apparently having much luck with the whole flying thing.

"We're going down!" Quirinius yelled. "Brace yourselves!"

He heard the high pitched whine of the wind cutting against the metal ship as he was thrown against the control panel, as they crashed through thick branches of a forest of trees.

"Ma-x!" He heard Isabel's desperate cry.

There was nothing he could do, except to wait and see if they could survive this.

"Another enemy ship down, Sir."

Captain Nuha nodded. It had been a quick ascension, since their retreat into Mount Freiweils. And he had never been more honored.

Since General Steren's departure into Eshtari, they had been frantically trying to keep everything at bay. If they managed the flow of ships traversing throughout Eshtari's airspace, it would be enough. He had not yet heard from General Steren. And as time passed, the more worried he was getting. "Were there any survivors?"

"We sent a group of soldiers to scout the ship."

"Good." "We cannot have any more surprises," he said warily. "We must deal with the foremost danger ahead of us."

"Sir?" asked 1st Lt. Zayak, curiously.

"The sleeping giant is before us. And he awaits to devour us whole."

"And what are we to do about this?" Zayak asked. "Do we not have a secondary plan, when and if General Steren does not come back?"

Nuha shifted uneasily. He had led several battalions, but never had he suspected that he would be the commander of the last lone Loyalist army. It boggled his mind how General Steren could focus in on what needed to be done to free a whole race of people - for that was what he had done for the past two decades while they re-established a life in Mount Freiweils.

"Sir?"

"I need you to gather all of the lieutenants and captains within the camp," he said thoughtfully. General Steren had drilled into him since he came under his command, that if he wanted the best and most effective strategem, surround yourself with the best. He let out a deep breath while his gaze remained on the flickering lights of Eshtari. "Yes. We cannot wait any longer. We must lead an attack on Eshtari."

"Get up!" A loud voice rung in his ears. "Get up now!"

He felt himself poked in the gut with something hard and pointed. He groaned. Well he was alive.

"How many do we have?" a low voice growled.

"There were four passengers," another voice informed. "But Lt. Salar, they do not seem to be dressed in uniform."

"This one is alive," the low voice declared, poking Max again. "Are the others dead?"

Dead? This roused him. He forced himself up, making the blood rush to his head. "Isabel!"

"This one is speaking," Salar said in distase. "And I see the pilot is breathing too."

"Sir, the passengers in the back are women."

"What?"

Max tried to concentrate on their words, trying to stay conscious. If he could, he needed to figure out a way to escape from their captors. They were so close to Eshtari. Quirinius had pointed it out to him. They had been only a few hundred miles away.

"Sir!!" The fainter voice seemed quite alarmed.

Max opened his eyes. There was blood trickling down his face, obstructing his sight. Fadilia. If they found their mother, they would surely recognize her.

"What is it?" Salar said exasperatedly.

"It...it's..."

Max's chest tightened. The soldier knew.

"Spit it out!" Max felt his leg kicked as Lt. Salar stepped into the back where Isabel and Fadilia were. "What is it?"

Max pushed himself upright, until he was sitting. Quirinius was slumped over the steering control. With a lot of effort, he silently slid over to the pilot's seat, pressing his finger over his pulse to make sure he was alive. He was.

"It's Queen Fadilia." Max stiffened as the name was uttered by the looming voices. "Queen Fadilia was on this ship."

He had to get out of there. He had to get them out of there. They would be of no use if they were shackled or worse when they confronted Khivar.

Forcing himself up onto his feet, he tried to, with some stealth, sneak up on the two soldiers - who no doubt were pawing over both Isabel and Fadilia. He did not know what power he had left, in his injured state, to fend off the guards, but he prayed to God that it would be enough. With everything he had, Max steadied himself and launched himself upon the nearest guard, who had his back to him, knocking him out with a short burst of energy. But before the soldier went down, the big brute flung him back, knocking the wind out of him.

Before he had another chance to launch an attack on the second officer, the smaller, yet still muscular soldier of the two, pressed a short metal weapon against Isabel's throat. "I would not do that if I were you," he blurted out, shifting uneasily as Max gazed up hatefully at him. "Or you and your friend here will die."

Slowly the soldier stepped forward, bending down to check on his commander. The large soldier seemed to recover from Max's stun blast quickly. After a few moments, the soldier known as Lt. Salar, was groaning and sitting upright.

This was not good. What a failure he was.

"Who are you?" demanded the smaller officer. "And what are you doing with Queen Fadilia?"

Max remained silent. If he was going to be captured, he certainly wasn't going to reliquish any information that could possibly get him or Isabel killed. And that would certainly happen if they figured out they were the hybrid re-creations of Zan and Vilandra.

Lt. Salar hesitantly stood up, trying to regain a sense of balance. He turned and glared at Max, before shaking the cobwebs from his head. "You," he growled, moving forward, and looming over him. "Did that to me."

Max raised his hands, prepared to defend himself; but he was deterred at the sight of the soldier pressing his weapon deeper into Isabel's throat. "If you hurt her I swear I'll kill you!" he seethed.

"Pathetic." Salar pulled out a pair of thin wire rings. They seemed familiar. "Hold out your hands," he commanded, and waited until Max obeyed. "You're all alike. Weak and pathetic when confronted face to face."

Max gritted his teeth and refused to respond, as the thin power binding shackles were activated, stifling his inherent powers. He kept his gaze locked on both Isabel and Fadilia, making sure they were all right. He saw the rise and fall of both their chests, so he knew that they were still breathing, and that was a small comfort.

"Hushai, come and lead this prisoner back to camp, while we tend to Queen Fadilia and the other prisoners."

"Queen Fadilia?" The voice was filled with awe and excitement.

"Yes, Queen Fadilia," Salar said warily. "Now get Gibeon in here as well. We will need several hands to carry out these unconsicous prisoners."

"I thought Gibeon was with you?"

"What?" Salar seemed mildly irritated. "He's always running off..."

"Uh, Sir?" A voice came from the cockpit of the carrier.

"Gibeon! I told you to wait until I instruct you how to proceed?" Max was handed off to the officer referred to as Hushai, before Salar moved towards the cockpit. "And I will be informing Nuha of this," he said darkly.

"Sir, look who it is."

"What is it?"

"Quirinius."

Max heard the name uttered before being forced into the darkness of the forest, outside the comfort and shelter of the ship. He frowned. How would they know Quirinius' name? Unless...

It all made sense. They spoke of Fadilia with more than just awe, but a tinge of reverence. And they had not threatened her life, instead focusing on Isabel. They were Kedrans. They were his people.

"Wait!" Max shouted, pulling against the firm grip of his guard. "This is a misunderstanding."

"Hush, Iturian scum."

"What is this ruckus?" Salar growled, peering his head from out of the carrier. "I do not want our position to be made known! Hushai, what kind of job are you doing?"

"Wait," Max cried, trying to get Salar to hear him. "I'm not the enemy."

"Right," Hushai scoffed, shoving Max to the ground. "Like we haven't heard that one before."

"No! I'm not!"

"Then how would you explain holding the Queen Mother hostage?" Salar accused, as he gently carried her body from out of the ship. "You Iturians make me sick!"

"I'm not Iturian! I am Kedran like you."

Hushai laughed out loud, as he circled him. "You sure don't look anything like one of us. There's something strange about you," he spat. "Foreign."

Max knew he could not reason with them. They were chattering above him. Not at all bothering to listen. He would have to make them hear. Even though it would sound preposterous, he would have to reveal his identity. He knew now that he would have to take his place as the Loyalist's leader and king.

"I do not know how I would have come this far," Zan smiled down at Ava, "without you."

"And I, you, Zan." Ava agreed wholeheartedly.

"Oh by Celestia, how sickening?" Rath groaned. "Zan, since you and Ava were betrothed, you have become unbearable."

"Oh really?" Zan chuckled.

"Yes," he answered disgustedly. "It is almost enough to make me leave the room."

"Well, it seems that you have no trouble speaking your hearts' desire when we are alone." Zan glanced over at Vilandra, who was smoothing the drape of her dress.

"Well," Rath's gaze flickered over towards Vilandra. "that is something utterly different."

"It is finding the courage to speak the words of your heart, Rath," Ava said softly. "Because without uttering those words, you have nothing."

"Well then I will have nothing," he growled, irritated by their presumptions.

"This is a big day," Zan breathed, smoothing out the collar of his scarlet robe. "It did not seem as if it would ever come."

"Yes," Rath nodded. "I am quite surprised the thought did not send the whole royal counsel running." He grinned mischieviously.

"Funny, Rath," Zan groaned. He turned away from his oldest friend and towards his sister. "Vilandra, come join us."

"Why should I?" she pouted. "This apparently is your big day and I do not even deserve mention."

Zan left Ava's side and walked over to where his sister was moping. Slipping his arms around her, he gazed at her reflection in the mirror. Even unhappy, she looked beautiful. "This is just one day," he chided. "You have every other day to be recognized."

Vilandra seemed to think this over. "Do you think your charming and flattering words are supposed to make me feel better?" she asked suspiciously.

"Is it working?"

"Maybe." He could see her fighting the smile that was playing upon he ruby lips.

"Good."

Vilandra spun around and gazed deeply into her brother's eyes. "Do you not feel like there is something absent?" she asked curiously. "It is like there is a hole..."

Zan nodded. "To have Father place the crown on my head and celebrate this day would have made everything complete," he said solemnly. "It seems almost wrong to be doing this without him."

Vilandra's brow furrowed. Then without notice, she flung her arms around his neck. "I am happy for you, Zan."

He closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around her waist, squeezing tight. "Thank you for that, Vilandra."

"Oh, let the party begin!" Rath sighed exasperatingly. "Your mother and all of the royal court must be having a fit."

Zan pulled away from the embrace, and both he and Vilandra laughed at Rath's impatience. "Do you think I am ready to lead an entire world?" he asked them.

"Of course," Ava said confidently.

Zan smiled, knowing that would always be the answer she would give. Ava would always believe in him. She would always love him.

"I could possibly do a better job," Vilandra teased. "But since you are the first born..."

Zan chuckled. "Of course you would," he laughed.

He waited now for Rath's opinion, which he was sure would be unique.

"No," Rath said slowly. The girls rose to protest, but Zan held up his hand.

"Really?"

"I do not think you are ready to lead, but who is?" he said thoughtfully. "But do know that we are all here today to say that is fine. Because you have to start somewhere."

Zan smiled and nodded gratefully at his friend and confidante. Clapping his hands he said happily, "Well, my friends and family. It is time."

No time like the present.

Slowly he stood up, turning to face the ignorant men. It was now or never.

"I am Zan, son of Alaric and Fadilia - Of Kedran blood, reborn."