Yugioh Card Maker Forum

.
“Aw hell, why did I not take the standard carriage? I should’ve known that there were some strings attached to a ‘discounted’ package... Damn thieves.”

Lying down on the side of the dirt road, the teenage girl stirred from her position and looked up at the clear blue sky. The sun was strong and yellow, its rays beating down unforgivingly. She stretched her arms out to her side, and dropping her hands out to the baked earth, pushed up, sending herself into an upright position. However, upon inspecting herself, the girl frowned. Her normally-clean blond hair was covered in clods of dark-brown dirt, and was all tangled into knots. The long white skirt she was wearing didn’t seem any better, with mud stains splattered all over it in a rather unflattering fashion. None of that concerned her at the moment, though, because a look of horror flashed across her face. “Oh no... Please don’t tell me they took it...”

Her hands racing through the various pockets on her clothes, the girl’s breathing quickened. ‘Please, don’t...’ Suddenly, she found what she was looking for, and smiled. “I had a feeling that they wouldn’t recognize something important if they saw it,” she stated with a mischievous grin. Slipping her hand into the pocket at her waist, the blonde withdrew a small oblong case, like one to hold a pair of glasses, and snapped it open. Poring over the contents within, she gave a satisfied grin, and closed it shut once more. ‘Even though they took my money for the stay, they obviously didn’t have the common sense to take the most important thing on me...’

“And I don’t mean my virginity,” she added aloud with a cheesy grin, before sweatdropping once she realized how stupid she sounded. “Now, let’s figure out just where the hell I need to go.” The road she was on was straight in both directions, and there were no intersections in sight. That was a plus. However, she must have been dumped in the middle of nowhere, because the road ended only at the horizon, with nothing to break it up. Giving a deep sigh, another drop of sweat appeared on the girl’s forehead, and she put her head in her hands, sighing as she went. “Jeez, does this kinda stuff always happen to me? Oh well, I might as well start walking now.”

The girl started to move her feet, but suddenly stopped. The world seemed to be spinning beneath her, turning head over heels, the sky and land trading places rapid-fire. “What the-” she started, and fell to the ground, unable to get out another word. “What the hell is happening to me?! Someone help me, please!” There was no one to hear her, though, and as vertigo set in, her nerves took the only approach that they knew and shut down.

Dropping to the ground like a sack of potatoes, she hit the baked clay of the roadside with a cringe-worthy impact noise. Lying there motionless, the only thing that could be heard was the sizzling of the hot earth under the midmorning sun and the blonde’s labored breathing. In this heat, she wouldn’t last too long. Her death would be unfortunate indeed.


“Gah!” The wrinkled white sheets covering the bed seemingly erupted as the body beneath them reacted to the dream he was having. Throwing them aside, he bolted upwards, back at an almost ninety-degree angle to the floor. His face was drenched in sweat, attesting to the fright he had just experienced. However, once he realized he was back in reality, the boy gave a deep sigh, and stared out of the window to his right, where the bright sun was streaming in.

“I’m glad that that didn’t really happen...” Muttering to himself, he ran a hand through his messy reddish-brown hair, which seems to have been spiked up into disarray by the pillows of his bed. He pushed back the covers and threw them off his bed, revealing that he had fallen asleep wearing only his boxers. Swinging his feet over the edge of the bed, he dropped onto the wooden floor of the loft-like room, and stood up. “Well, gotta get dressed,” he casually stated to himself, and reached down, pulling up a long-sleeved green shirt with a lace-up neck. The teen quickly pulled it over his head, and yanked on a pair of worn black pants as well. Ready to go, he was about to dash down a set of nearby stairs when a look of remembrance crossed his face. “Oh, crap! Almost forgot!” Running back to his bed, he looked over at a nearby table, and his eyes lit up as he saw a small silver cross attached to a chain. “Found it!” the teen announced, and quickly slipped the ornament onto his wrist.

With all his preparations completed, the red-headed teenager raced over to the stairwell at the back of the room that took up the entire floor, and quickly raced down it to the ground floor into the kitchen. “Mom, where are you? I’m hungry!”

“Tate, do you mind? I’m trying to get another supplement done before the customers come over to pick it up,” came a harried female voice from the back of the room. Steam filled the large kitchen, so Tate was a bit surprised when he saw a slender female figure emerge from the cloud. Merina Emarande was a woman in her early 30s, but still carried herself with the grace of a twenty-year-old and a sense of duty of one twice that age. However, at this time, she was all work and quite frazzled, wearing a pair of work goggles and an apron as she was busy shoving a large sweet-potato-like plant into a pot of boiling water set atop a stove. “Damn tuber... why won’t you fit!” Giving a last hard shove, Merina got the potato into the pot, sending a splash of boiling water back at her gaping-mouthed son in the process.

“That’s better,” she pronounced with a smile, and pulled the steam-covered goggles off of her face, letting her short black hair get some breathing room. “Tate, honey, I recommend you stay away from the pot, those potatoes like to release their antivenin in high doses, and I wouldn’t want you to feel groggy if you inhale too much.” Smiling slightly, Melina untied her apron and slung it over the back of a nearby chair, extending her arms. “Here,” she said softly.

Running over to his mom, Tate returned the embrace with a hug. “Hey, Mom. Morning.”

“It’s not exactly morning, Tate,” Merina replied, holding her son tightly. “I’d say it’s almost noon by now.”

Color draining from his face, the teenager registered a look of shock across his face. “Why didn’t you wake me up earlier?” he exclaimed, jumping back from the hug. “I’ve wasted most of the day already!” Panicking, Tate ran fretfully around the room, but wasn’t paying attention to where he was going and slammed right back into his mother’s chest. “Oof!” When he looked up, he realized just who he had run into. “Eheheh, sorry, Mom.”

“S’okay.” Mussing her son’s hair with her hand, Merina looked down at Tate, giving a soft smile. “Now, I have a job for you. Run out into the back gardens and grab a few stalks of anise from the planter just to the right of the door. You know which one I’m talking about, right?”

Tate stepped backwards towards the kitchen table and the door nearby. “Yeah, I do.” Turning around, he walked over and set his hand on the knob, but turned his head and paused for a second. On a table next to the door was a silvery picture frame, with a picture of Tate, his mother, and another boy smiling goofily together in front of a large grey statue. Staring at it, the teen felt a moment of odd peacefulness, but quickly snapped out of it and turned the knob, stepping outside.


The Emarande family was rather small, but Merina Emerande, the family head, was renowned throughout the small agricultural community of Chalcedony Town for her knowledge of the natural healing arts. She was an expert on how to prepare various healing solutions to cure anything from a cold to bad acne. Therefore, the town was usually very healthy, and tales of her healing skills soon began to trickle out to the surrounding villages and cities. Shortly, Merina became the go-to woman for those who couldn’t afford conventional medicine, because she would usually heal them for free. It meant, of course, that day-to-day pay was rather hard to come by for her and her son, but she didn’t mind much. As long as she could help others, she was happy.

However, Tate wasn’t too happy to be his mom’s errand-runner. Grumbling to himself softly once the door closed behind him, Tate stepped down two stone steps and surveyed the large garden laid out in front of him. A variety of low-growing herbs and plants flowed out of their wooden boxes on the ground, some entangling with each other and reaching towards the sky. They all seemed to flow into the background, which consisted of rolling prairie over low hills, dotted with large standing stones. However, he had seen the scenery before, and knew it too well, having lived on the isolated plains for all 16 years of his life. It didn’t mean he couldn’t stop to enjoy it, though, so Tate sat down on the steps and took the view in for a second, breathing out. The sun was bright overhead, and he soon started to sweat.

Jumping back up, Tate found the planter his mom was talking about, with multiple thin-stalked plants crowned with a poof of small white flowers. The teen quickly plucked three stalks and spun back around to face the door. The spin caused the cross on his wrist to slap against his arm, and he was struck momentarily by a flood of memories.

‘Sorry I can’t stay, Tate, but there’s nothing I can do...’

Tate’s head dropped, and he felt crestfallen for a moment. ‘There was nothing I could do...’ Raising it back up, he gave a large grin. “Well, there’s no need to sulk over it. Guess I’d better bring these in to Mom,” he finished up, and opened the door to walk back in the house, plants in hand.

However, when he stepped back inside the two-storied wooden abode, Tate only saw his mother staring outside the large window at the front of the house. “Hey,” the redhead announced as he entered. “Whatcha looking at?”

Staring out the window, Merina turned around, startled. “Uh, sweetie, there seems to be a body lying on the side of the road...”

“Huh?” Walking over to the stone counter where his mother was standing, the teen dropped the small pile of flowers next to her and stared out the window in front. “What the heck?” Indeed, what appeared to be the form of a teenage girl was lying in a crumpled heap on the side of the road opposite the Emerande house. Without a word, Tate rolled up his sleeves in a single movement and dashed out the front door opposite the one he came in at full-speed.

Merina watched from the window as her son went to the rescue of the mysterious figure. ‘He’s so much like his father, always trying to put others before him...’


Crossing the dirt road quickly, Tate located the girl, who was curled in the fetal position in a small grassy ditch adjacent to the hardened strip. She was alive, because her chest was falling up and down in a rhythmic, but slowed motion. Getting on one knee, the teen put the back of hand against the girl’s forehead, brushing back a few gold curls, and recoiled upon contact. “She’s burning up...” he muttered to himself, as he carefully slung his arms under the girl’s back and got the other one under. However, he stopped when a slender blue-and-gold case fell out of her pocket and bounced to the ground. Puzzled, the redhead picked it up and pocketed the object before returning his attention to the girl.

Working quickly, Tate pulled her onto his back, and stood up, putting her in a piggyback. The teen gave a quick groan and slowly but steadily began to walk back to the house, the chain on his wrist knocking against the girl’s calf with every step. “Hey, Mom!” he yelled as he approached the door. “Get the door, ‘cause I don’t think she’s gonna last much longer!”


“Wha!?” Shooting upright, the girl woke up with a start, but recoiled just as quickly as a rush of heat covered her. “Oh, I think I’m gonna hurl.”

“Well, then, do you need a bucket?” Startled, she turned to her right to see a boy with messy red-brown hair and a green shirt watching her from a wooden stool he was sitting on. His blue-green eyes studied her with intense curiosity, and she suddenly felt naked. “Glad you didn’t die of the heat out there. You were really burning out there,” he added offhandedly, giving a grin.

“Who... who are you?” Red blush crept over the girl’s cheeks. “And wh-why are you watching me like that?” she stuttered.

“Tate Emerande, and I made sure that you didn’t get any worse.” Tate turned around and grabbed a glass of what appeared to be a clear liquid from a matching stool next to him. “You had a bad case of heatstroke, although why you were passed out like that’s something that you’ll need to explain. Here,” he said, proffering the glass to the girl. “Drink up. It has herbs that will cool your body temperature and cure your fever. Fast-acting, too.”

Extending her hand, the blonde accepted Tate’s drink, and put the cold glass to her lips, taking a deep sip. She almost immediately felt a cooling wave spread throughout her, and sighed in relief. “Um, thank you.” Turning up, she examined the teen’s now-puzzled face. “My name’s Alicia.” Falling back onto the pillows of the bed she was lying in, Alicia looked around for a second. The lofty room she was in presumably took up the entire floor, and was quite big. Three beds, counting the one she was in, were spread around in three of the corners, with each corner being fashioned differently and the fourth holding the stairs. “Who else lives here?” she inquired, a bit more strength returning to her voice.

Tate frowned momentarily, and seemed to instinctively rub the small cross attached to a chain on his wrist that Alicia noticed. “It’s just me and my mom here. A bit lonely, but we manage.”

‘Then why are there three beds up here?’ Somewhat confused, Alicia shook her head to dislodge the thought and dropped her hand to the side of the white covers, which were now drenched in her sweat. “Is there anywhere in here that I can take a bath? I’m soaked here.”

Giving it some quick thought, Tate pointed to a door set into the corner of the room. “Right there,” he said. “There should be enough stuff in there for you.”

“Thanks bunches,” Alicia replied, giving a weak smile. She slowly rolled out of bed, revealing that she was still in the dirtied white skirt and green top that she was found in, and walked with determination to the indicated door. Once it closed behind her, she looked around the small tiled space. There was a sink with various tubes of lotion on top in varying colors, a toilet, and, most refreshingly, a bathtub that took up half the room.

Alicia sighed deeply upon seeing the tub, and reached her hand out to the faucet. Spinning it quickly, she waited for a short period as hot water came roaring out of the faucet. While waiting, the blonde looked at some of the bottles covering the shelves. “Burn salve, fever reducer, vomiting induction agent?” The last one was met with some revulsion, and she put the bottle down just as the tube filled up. Quickly running over, Alicia spun the knob shut, undressed, and sunk into the water, uttering a sound of relief. “This feels so good.”

Letting her mind drift, time seemed to pass slowly, so the blonde turned her attention to thinking about just how she ended up at the Emarande household. “Geh... I can’t think straight.” Concentrating, Alicia slowly began to tune out the outside sounds, until all that was left was silence. Slowly, things flowed back to her.

‘A man with a mohawk... he said he was offering discount packages to Malachite City... thought it might have been a good idea... but it was odd that there were three others with him... oh well, what’s the worst that can happen... everything’s going fine... wait, why did we stop... why’s he coming back here... what’s with that big needle... my arm, it hurts... everything’s black... stop looking at me... what do they want...’

“My case!” Jumping up out of the tub and sending water splashing everywhere, Alicia quickly dashed out of the bathroom and across to the bed where she was previously relaxing, and looked about frantically. However, her concern was short-lasting, because she spotted a small green-and-blue case tucked in the corner. Reaching down, she snatched it up and opened it with a swift movement. “Good. They didn’t take it after all,” she exhaled. However, she heard a noise behind her, and spun around to see Tate, who was holding a glass of the drink she was having before. However, his face had turned luminescent red. “Um, Alicia...” he stuttered.

“What?” she exclaimed obviously annoyed. However, she just realized why Tate was so red, and a crossed pair of veins started to twitch on her forehead. Alicia raised her fist, and slowly approached the unsuspecting boy.

Merina usually couldn’t be disturbed from her work by anything. However, she was startled and nearly dropped the large jar she was canning when a piercing “KYAAAA!” filled the house, followed by what could only be described as a body hitting a wooden floor and rolling down stairs.

“Kids,” she stated matter-of-factly. “So temperamental.”


Nursing a large bump on his head, Tate moaned in pain as he sat at the kitchen table, next to the now-clothed Alicia and across from Merina. “So,” the teen started, “you said you wanted to tell me something?”

Alicia was wearing an old shirt and pair of jeans of Tate’s mother’s, but she had an uncomfortable frown on her face. “Yes. The truth is, I need to go immediately.”

“But why?” A curious expression crossed Merina’s face. “You shouldn’t be going outside in your condition.”

“I know,” Alicia responded, “but it wouldn’t be safe for you two. See, I was robbed on the way over here, and I’m pretty sure that there’s going to be someone coming back to finish the job soon.”

Dumbfounded, Tate’s jaw dropped slightly, but then self-corrected. “Wait,” he butted in, “why the heck would someone rob a person like you? I mean, you’re nice and innocent, as far as I can tell...”

Giving a quick death glare in Tate’s direction, Alicia regained her composition and continued speaking. “Yes, but they weren’t necessarily after me. They were after this.” Withdrawing the case from the pocket of her jeans, she placed it on the counter for Merina and Tate to see, and opened it up, removing the object within. It was a fountain pen, black with ornate golden designs spiraling up it. “This,” she stated, “is my Crest Tool. They must have been looking for it.”

Tate whistled deeply. “Haven’t seen one of those in a while,” he commented offhand, picking the writing utensil up and inspecting it. “We’re in such a rural area that Contractors rarely see the need to pass through here.”

“Even if they did,” Marina added in, “there’s no real need for them here. We’re just homely country folks.” Giving a sharp laugh, she returned the pen to Alicia’s outstretched hand. “However, I for one would be very interested to see what it would do. Do you mind?” she inquired.

“Not at all,” Alicia replied with a wink. Standing up from the table while picking up the pen, she quickly walked to an open area of the room and turned to face the two. Holding the pen out in front of her, Alicia began to speak.

“Spirit within, listen and guide me! Reveal your form, Ink Architect!”

A sweeping wind seemed to cross over the pen, and it lifted itself out of the girl’s hand. It seemed to ripple, and glowed with a strong light. After a few seconds, the shining stopped, and Tate stared at the result.

It was the same pen from before, but there were some definite changes to it. The Crest Tool had grown, so it was now at least a foot long and thick enough so it couldn’t be held in the conventional style. The golden designs on the barrel had changed and seemed almost alive. Eight long golden antennas spun out of the back, and seemed to click against each other, making a randomly-composed piece of bizarre percussive music. In all, it was rather impressive, but as Alicia spun it around, there was only one question on Tate’s mind.

“So,” he inquired with an awe-filled expression, “what can it do?”

“Watch and learn,” Alicia responded with a smirk. Brandishing the pen like a sword, she began to make long arching lines in the air with the tip. To Tate’s astonishment, long rivulets of rainbow-colored ink flowed out and floated in air. The girl made three quick turns, and a large square was the result, floating in midair. As the two spectators looked on, the currently-see-through central portion began to flood itself with the same colored ink, to make a solid patch of psychedelic tints hanging in Merina’s kitchen. “Now, Tate. I have a challenge for you,” she stated from behind the dizzying wall.

Tate stood up and walked over next to Alicia, who was currently tapping Ink Architect against her thigh. “What would that be?” he said curiously.

“Get on the other side, and punch through that wall.” Crossing her arms, the Contractor gave him a wink.

“Well, it is just ink,” the teen stated matter-of-factly with a shrug, and followed Alicia’s instructions, getting to the other side. Revving his right fist back, he turned slightly, and delivered a hook punch with a “grah!” However, he quickly recoiled as he felt his knuckles hit what felt like solid steel. “Ack!” Tate recoiled from the impact, his now-red hand hanging limply at his side. “That...”

“Hurt?” Finishing Tate’s sentence, the Contractor walked out from behind the wall, spinning her Tool between her hands. “That’s Ink Architect’s ability. It can make my drawings come to life, no matter what they are. All I need is a good mental picture. Now, I’m sorry for having to hold you up like this, but I really should be going.” Holding the glorified pen out, the same rush of wind occurred, and the Crest Tool was sealed back into its original form in a matter of seconds. Alicia walked over to the table, picked up the case, and slipped it back inside.

Turning, she faced to address her hosts. “I’ll go and grab my things from upstairs,” she said with a smile on her face. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me today.”

As he watched Alicia climb the wooden stairs, Tate turned to his mother, who shrugged and got up from her chair, pulling the goggles on her forehead back down as she returned to the stove. “Hey, what can you say,” she said as she slid on a pair of oven mitts and pulled the potato out from the oven before setting it aside on the counter. “She’s not even supposed to be here. We just were in the right place.”

Tate said nothing, instead looking off towards the back door, with a faint look in his eyes that said he wasn’t fully there.


Once she made it to the top of the stairs, Alicia stopped for a second, seemingly in thought. On a whim, she strode over to the corner that held Tate’s bed, which faced the front of the house and the dirt road outside. Even though the girl knew she shouldn’t be there, she was too curious to really care. However, one thing grabbed the blonde’s attention, which stood on a sidetable that was identical to the one that she had next to the bed she was resting in previously.

It was a single picture in a wooden frame. Picking it up, Alicia examined it, but was somewhat confused. It showed two young boys and a taller woman with straight black hair, posing for the camera in front of what appeared to be a large granite statue. The background was out of focus, so the girl couldn’t determine where exactly they were. From the looks of it, the kid on the left with shaggy red hair was obviously Tate, and the woman in the back was his mother. However, the boy on the right, with straight white hair and a somewhat forced smile, was a mystery to Alicia. “Is he the third person here?” she muttered to herself. “If so, I wonder where he is...”

However, her internal monologue was interrupted by the clattering of cart wheels outside. Heart skipping a beat, she rushed over to the nearby window, and she involuntarily gasped when she saw an open-backed carriage-like vehicle with three men in it pull to a stop in the front of the house. Alicia pressed her ear to the glass of the window, trying to hear their conversation. She couldn’t match up the voices to the speakers, but it didn’t matter, since they were all equally threatening.

“So, the girl’s not here?”

“Guess not. That’s a shame. Wouldn’t want anything to happen to her.”

“Hmm... I swore this was the place where we dumped her.”

“You dumped her, retard. We should’ve kept her after all. Didn’t realize that she was the one we were ordered to get.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault. Blame Shrike. He’s the one who didn’t check for the Crest Tool close enough.”

“Dammit, you two, quiet!” One of the men looked up, towards the house, and for a second Alicia swore that their eyes met. The man turned back, silently signaled to the other two, and hopped out of the carriage. Getting in a loosely-knit line, they approached the door, the menace radiating from them almost palpable.

Dropping the photo on the bed, Alicia rushed down the stairs, a single thought pounding in her skull.

‘They’re back.’


In the back garden, Tate was scouring the countless beds of plants for another ingredient for his mother’s recipe. He had gotten over the fact that Alicia had to leave, because he felt somewhat sorry that he couldn’t help out more. Therefore, the teen was surprised when the door swung open and the female contractor rushed out, breathing heavily.

“They’re back,” she stated simply, and Tate understood exactly what she meant. Dashing over to her, he crossed through the house with a purposeful pace, Alicia following behind him.

“Tate, honey, what are you doing?” Merina’s head popped out from behind another large pot, goggles pressed up against her eyes.

Turning his head back quickly to look at his mother, Tate gave a quick smile. “Just gonna go help out Alicia. Shouldn’t take too long.”


As Tate stepped out the door onto the cool grass of the front lawn, he saw the people that had made Alicia so concerned. There were three of them, with one in the front and the other two in back. They were all men, and seemed to tower over the two teenagers. However, the one in the front carried himself as the leader, and was the most frightening. He was wearing a black vest-like jacket and long grey pants, and his ears had multiple earrings in them. The most distinctive part was the large mohawk he had, which was a violent shade of orange.

Giving a sinister grin, the man strode across towards Tate and Alicia, who had gotten out from behind the teen’s back. “Hey, honey,” he said, pulling his left hand out of his pocket and extending it towards Alicia’s shoulder in an attempt to grab her. “You know that we have unfinished business, right?” However, his hand never made it to her shoulder, as he felt another slap it out of the way.

“What do you want with her?” Tate inquired as he pulled his hand back from the slap. “More importantly, who are you?”

Puffing up his chest, the man bared his teeth and began to speak. “I’m Shrike, the leader of this motley crew here and the one ordered to get you. However,” he said, voice lowering menacingly, “it seems like you’ve been helped out by that boy there. So, if you’d just get your Crest Tool and come with us, there will be no victims today. ‘Kay?”

However, Alicia didn’t feel the same way, and whipping her case out of her pocket, she quickly waved the Crest Tool they were after. “Try to get it from me, a******s,” she spat. “Reveal your form, Ink Architect!” The gust of wind and bright light heralded the Crest Tool’s release, and when it was complete, the girl held the massive pen at her side. “So, who’s going first?”

She was stunned, therefore, when Tate raised his fist, coiling it back, and struck out, punching Shrike in the jaw and knocking him off-balance. “Hey,” he said, “why don’t you just leave before you get your asses handed to you?” Cracking his fists against one another, he grinned, as if to incite them.

The method certainly worked, because after the mohawked man regained his composure, he seemed pissed. “Kid, I think we’ve met before,” he growled. “I can’t exactly remember where, but one thing’s for sure.” Removing a large ring with a chain design from his index finger, he laid in into his outstretched palm. “This is the last time our paths will cross.”

The same wind that had accompanied Alicia earlier rustled up again, and the girl gasped. ‘He’s a Contractor too?’ she thought worriedly. ‘If so, we might be in a lot of trouble...’

“Reveal your form, Chain Viper!” After the light died down, Strike was revealed to be holding a long chain made up of larger versions of the ring. Attached to the end was a wicked-looking spike with a snake carving spiraling on it and a purplish liquid coating the tip.

“So,” the mohawked man said, affixing his gaze on Tate, “you have the insolence of trying to attack me? I’ll take you away like I did all the others!” Spinning the chain over his head like a lasso, the spike on the end whistling around wildly, he laughed out before whipping it towards Tate. “Eat it, brat!”

With only moments to react, the redhead dove to his right before the spike impacted with the spot he was just standing on, digging into the ground. As he looked on, the barb was yanked out of the soil, trailing purple liquid, before shooting back into Strike’s hand. “What the heck was that?” Tate gasped, surprised from the speed at which Strike attacked.

“My Crest Tool, what else?” Grinning cockily, Shrike whipped the chain around once more and sent it flying at Tate. “Better move it, kid, or you’re gonna bite the bullet!”

This second attack was much faster than the first, and Tate didn’t realize it coming until it would be too late. Therefore, he was surprised when the Crest Tool was batted to one side by an arc of rainbow color, which had roared out from behind him. Looking back explained it, though, as he saw Alicia wielding Ink Architect. Winking, she slashed it down, and another whip of ink shot out towards the chain, knocking it awry from Shrike’s attempt to re-coil it. “You b****,” the man growled, and swung the chain out in a looping arc. “You’re gonna get it!”

The chain was send shrieking towards Tate, so he once more dropped down to dodge it. However, Shrike flicked his wrist, and it bounced up, looping towards the unprotected Alicia. Unaware of the danger she was in, Alicia only noticed the spike when it slashed across her left arm, leaving an angry gash. “Alicia!”

She only noticed she was injured when the blood dripped on her leg, but the pain came quickly, searing Alicia’s arm like a hot poker. Screaming out, she dropped to the ground, clutching her arm while Ink Architect dropped to the ground, bouncing on the springy grass. “My arm... it burns...” she moaned softly.

“That’d be Chain Viper’s effect,” Shrike laughed. “The poison on its tip messes with your nerves. Don’t even try to stand back up, or you’ll collapse. Now,” the mohawked ringleader said menacingly, “one of you is out of the way. Let’s take care of the other one, shall we?” Wielding the spike like a dagger, he advanced towards the stunned Tate.

Somehow, seeing Alicia getting slashed like that really boiled the redhead’s blood, and he flipped himself off of the ground with a newfound vigor, landing on his feet in front of the evil Contractor. “You bastard... Why the heck are you attacking her?!” he yelled, running at the man with his fist cocked back, cross swinging wildly. “You’ve hurt us enough!”

Shrinking back from the punch momentarily, Shrike grinned sadistically, and waved Chain Viper around like a playful kid would an umbrella on a rainy day, and lashed out at Tate, who dodged back quickly. “In more ways than you know, kid. In fact, I could tell you something important. Like, do you know where your little brother is right now?”

Those ten words had all the emotional impact of a sledgehammer on Tate, and he stepped back shocked. “Kayson... You have him, don’t you?!” Taken to a new emotional ferocity, Tate threw a haymaker at Shrike, who merely smiled and dodged the blow. “Where do you have him?!”

Only able to look on, Alicia was shocked at how abruptly Tate’s rage peaked. ‘Wait, he has a brother?’ she thought, gritting her teeth from the burning on her arm. She then flashed back to the picture she had seen, and it all fell together.


It was a single picture in a wooden frame. Picking it up, Alicia examined it, but was somewhat confused. It showed two young boys and a taller woman with straight black hair, posing for the camera in front of what appeared to be a large granite statue. The background was out of focus, so the girl couldn’t determine where exactly they were. From the looks of it, the kid on the left with shaggy red hair was obviously Tate, and the woman in the back was his mother. However, the boy on the right, with straight white hair and a somewhat forced smile, was a mystery to Alicia. “Is he the third person here?” she muttered to herself. “If so, I wonder where he is...”


The third boy must’ve been this Kayson. That much was apparent to Alicia. However, the thing that puzzled her was the statue in the background. It looked vaguely familiar to Alicia, but she couldn’t remember exactly where she had seen it before. Concentrating and trying to ignore the waves of vertigo that matched those she had felt earlier in the day, the female Contractor tried to dig into the depths of her memory. “I’ve seen it before, I swear,” she muttered to herself, and rubbed her temples. “Come on, remember, remember...”

‘The Statue of the Annunciation is the major landmark of Obsidian City, also known as the famed “City of Crosses,” and is located near one of the world’s greatest sources of...’

“Crest Tools!” Propping herself up with Ink Architect as a cane, Alicia watched Tate and Shrike trade blows and dodge one another, and saw the glint of sliver on Tate’s wrist, realizing just what it was. “Tate! Your cross! I’m pretty sure it’s a Crest Tool! Make a contract!” she yelled in quick bursts, panting for breath in between.

“What the heck!?” Tate yelled back, while dodging another jab of Shrike’s spike.

“I just do!” Alicia frantically responded. “You have to contract!”

“How do I do that?”

Breathing deeply and trying to steady herself, she quickly began speaking. “Hold it and focus. Try to speak to it. Not really speak, but you know what I mean, ri-” Alicia’s words were cut short, as the world began to spin once more. “Just connect with it!”

It was difficult to get a hand around the small silver cross that was hanging from his wrist, especially when he was sidestepping multiple chain lashes, but Tate managed to after a short period. Still dodging back and forth, he narrowed his eyes, and began to breathe steadily. ‘Concentrate...’

Slowly, the world around him seemed to blur to grey, and everything began to slow until Tate could see the spike of Shrike’s Chain Viper hovering right next to his, waiting to strike but unable to. The only thing with color was himself, and as the teen watch onwards, a bright light filled the world, turning the grey to white, and a voice spoke out, elegant and refined, but deep and filled with the wisdom of ages.

“You... are... calling... me?”

“I guess so,” Tate responded, rubbing the back of his head. “Please,” he said, putting his hands together in a mock prayer, “lend me your power. I need to save those close to me. Please!”

After seemingly an eternity of deliberation, the voice rang out once more. “Then... I... accept... you...”

The echoing of the voice against the whiteness grew stronger and stronger, and Tate had to cover his ears to block out the pain. The white color grew harsher as well, but as the sound reached a peak, everything suddenly reverted to normal, and Tate had to quickly roll back to dodge the flailing spike.

“Kid,” Shrike stated cockily, “dontcha know never to space out in battle? That’s how you get killed!” Stepping back a bit and whipping the spike around in a circle above his head, he began to hurl it in Tate’s direction. “You’ll go down the same way your brother did!”

Smiling, Tate yanked the cross off his wrist and held in his hand. “No, I won’t!” The familiar light and wind started up once more around Tate’s clenched fist.

“Spirit within, listen and guide me!” The light grew even more, completely blocking the boy’s clenched fist from view. “Reveal your form!”

Reaching a peak, the glow shined for one more brilliant second and then abruptly ceased. When it died down, Tate was wearing a pair of silver glove-like gauntlets that were plated on the back and were seemingly coated with a thick black fabric on the palms. The outline of a cross was etched into the back of each gauntlet in black, and a long line of silvery metal ran down the back of each finger and wrapped around the tip.

Tate slowly moved his arms in a circle, and extended one newly-clad fist in a battle-ready gesture. “Driver Cross.”


Stunned at this latest development, Alicia could only watch as Tate inspected the Crest Tool that he had just summoned. ‘He’s... a Contractor now?’ she thought dumbfounded. ‘I didn’t expect it to really work in the end...’

“Hey, Tate,” she yelled out in a wavering voice, still clenching the gash on her arm. “Whaddya think that Crest Tool can do?”

Staring down at his new gloves, Tate flexed his hands. “Eh, I’m really not sure,” he sheepishly said, a single large sweatdrop rolling down his forehead. “But there’s no harm in trying them out, right?”

“So, you got a new powerup, eh?” The spike from Chain Viper went whizzing past Tate’s neck, and impacted with the ground behind him. Reeling it back in, Shrike looked at Tate with a curious expression. “Well, I don’t think it’s gonna do much if you can’t touch me!” The mohawked man whipped the chain in a circle and quickly threw it out, aiming for the boy’s heart. “Catch!”

The attack caught him by surprise, so the only thing that Tate could do was to try to knock it down. So, he flattened his right hand, waited until the chain got close enough, and chopped down, hopefully knocking it out of the way. However, what happened next shocked everyone nearby. A detonative burst emanated out from the edge of Tate’s gauntlet, completely knocking the chain off course and sending it flying to the side with a “bang!” Staring at the effect of his Crest Tool, Tate sweatdropped again. “I guess that’s what it does. Well, it’s the best I got!”

Rushing up towards the stunned and de-armed Shrike, the teen revved his fist up and stopped short, giving a grin. “And you thought this was gonna be easy?” He spun his body to the side and threw his fist into Shrike’s face, landing a hook that sent an explosive wave out, knocking the man back at least 20 feet.

“Urgh... Sweet gods above, I did not expect that...” Shrike looked up into the sky from his tangled position on the grassy earth, body feeling like he was struck by a wrecking ball. “Kinetic energy amplification, eh? That’s gonna leave a mark for a while.” His speech stopped when he felt blood from the large cut on his forehead from the punch, moaned silently, and passed out from the pain.

“Do the rest of you want some of this?” Tate gave the clichéd “come-on” gesture with his open palm towards Shrike’s lackeys, who had been watching the entire battle from the sidelines and were now slack jawed at the damage Tate had inflicted on their leader.

One of them, a rather fat specimen with a hooded sweatshirt, shook his head furiously. “N-no, we don’t!”

“We really don’t!” chimed in the other one, who was rail-thin. The two of them moved in concert over to their fallen leader, and slung him over their shoulders. Working in tandem, they half-carried, half-dragged him over to the vehicle on the side of the road, and threw him. Hopping in front, the fat one got on the wheel, and sweating profusely, started it up.

“We’ll be back!” he yelled at Tate. “Well, hopefully,” the underling added as an afterthought. Any more words were lost, as the car sped away along the road, kicking up dust.

Sighing deeply, the teenager limped over to the reclining Alicia, who was leaning against the side of the house. Sitting down next to her, he clapped his hands together, and Driver Cross returned to the silver charm it was before in a flash of light. “Glad that’s over with,” he remarked to the panting girl.

“Yeah,” she replied, smiling. “I am too.”

However, the sentimental moment was interrupted by the front door swinging open and Merina stepping out in a cloud of steam, goggles planted firmly on her face. “Hey kids,” she commented cheerfully. “Where were you?”

Alicia and Tate facefaulted. “You mean you didn’t see that all!?” they yelled in tandem.

“Guess not,” the mom laughed while rubbing her head. “I get caught up in my work,” she explained as Tate fell over backwards. However, her expression turned to one of concern when she saw the wound on Alicia’s arm and her ill state. “Oh, honey,” she gasped, “it seems like your symptoms have returned. Here,” she said, reaching down and pulling the blonde up while using her own shoulder as a brace. “I’ll help you inside.”

Tate followed the pair, still completely perplexed about what had happened. It had been a long day.


Goggles on her forehead and a glum look on her face, Merina sat back in the wooden chair, trying to comprehend all the things that Tate and Alicia just told her. “So,” she said after a long silence, “you’re saying that those... people,” she spat, “took Kayson?”

“Yup,” Alicia stated glumly, after sipping from another glass of the liquid that Tate’s mother had whipped up earlier. It was definitely fast-acting, as her vertigo was already going away just a few minutes after she had gotten it. However, the slash across her arm was going to take a while to heal, and she winced in pain as she set the glass back down. “Since they first showed up on the carriage from Granita City, I’m assuming that’s where they make their base. Luckily,” she continued, her tone becoming a bit brighter, “that’s where I’m living right now.”

“If that’s true,” Tate thought out loud, “then wouldn’t that mean that Alicia and I could get more info there? That is,” he corrected with a look towards Merina, “if Mom approves.”

Without replying to Tate’s question or even saying a word, Merina got up from her chair, walked towards the back door, and picked the picture frame resting there up. Returning to her seat, she set it on the table, and looked at it for what seemed like ages. Finally, she breathed out, and looked up. “Tate,” she started, “I haven’t seen your younger brother in over five years now. It’s been too long that we were separated, even longer than you may know. However,” she added, “this new Crest Tool, which I wasn’t even aware of, might just be the trick.”

Sliding out of her chair, she slipped behind Tate and wrapped her arms around him in a hug. “You always know what’s right for yourself, sweetie. Make me proud.”

Tears running down his face from the emotion involved, the redhead smiled. “Don’t worry, Mom,” he whispered.

“I will.”

Would a ferret count?