Grazing The Sky

"A weapon of war?" Zidane asked.

"Yes," Yittek replied. "One of my patients brought it up. He comes from Yowlitch's territory."

"Yowlitch..." Zidane said the word as if testing it. "Where have I heard that name before?"

"He's rather fond of making potions. He crafted the invisibility serum in 807."

Zidane nodded, accepting the answer. "So what's he doing now?"

"Is he making something against Spiros?" Lance asked.

Yittek nodded. "It seems so."

Lance grinned. "So we have something then..."

"Perhaps," Yittek replied. "A riot broke out as soon as I stepped out into the streets. It seems not everyone is fond of this serum."

"Do they know what it does?"

Yittek shook his head. "Only that the release of it can cause another war. Some prefer to be at peace."

"Don't blame them," Zidane murmured, hands in his pockets and weight shifting to one side.

A silence passed before the crossbreed looked up, determination in his gaze as he met Lance's.

"Equilix," Zidane said, speaking into his mind. In one agreement, Lance followed him in a flurry of fire and disappeared.

_______________

Lance blinked, stretching his eyes wide. He looked past his own cl.u.s.ter of images, seeing roughly a hundred images surrounding them, floating out into the space between.

Lance yawned. He brought up a new screen, checking the time. Four hours, and no results. Only that this "serum" came from Yowlitch himself and was said to bring great pain to Spiros.

Could it kill them completely? Specifically?

Lance couldn't find the answer.

He stretched, bringing his arms behind his head. "Have you found anything yet?"

When Zidane didn't respond, he looked over, to the opposite side of the Equilix. Through a shield of slightly transparent screens, Lance saw Zidane studying one intently. A map of some territory, presumably Yowlitch's.

"Zidane."

No response.

Lance shouted in his head. Blue eyes snapped to him.

The screens parted with two fingers. "What's up?"

"You find anything yet?"

Zidane shook his head, pulling back to look at the map again. "No. I'm trying to figure out a route to this guy's place, but he's pretty closed off."

Lance tilted his head to one side in question. "What're you talking about? Like stealing it from him?"

"If it comes to that."

In the silence, Zidane looked up again.

"That's plan B," he clarified.

"So what's plan A?"

Zidane pulled a screen down from high above him, and pushed it over to Lance. A town with a route mapped out.

"He's coming through Bonis, a large town on the outskirts of Ezyta's territory; I can stand in as Ezyta's kin and heir to the throne and talk with him."

"You can do that?" Lance asked, flipping the screen over to see a three-dimensional view of the map. "You're not even her son, though."

"I know." Zidane grinned, his eyes brightening. "But it's nothing a forged doc.u.ment can't fix. If he tries to contact Ezyta mentally and confirm, I'll just intercept."

"Sneaky," Lance said, pushing the image back. "Very sneaky."

"Thank you."

"Lance." Yittek's voice. "I need to see you in the examination room."

Alright. Lance stood, dismissing Yittek's offer to teleport him. I'll walk. Stretch out my legs.

Zidane looked up, then nodded, seeming to be mentally speaking as well.

Lance walked towards the exit and entrance, a small square at the rim of the Equilix's round blue platform. "See you in a few."

"Have fun."

Lance scoffed, tempted to make a comeback. But his foot met the exit, and he found himself in an empty room. He walked forward, away from the Equilix's globe exterior, and entered the hall.

That was around the time the first dot showed up.

It came as a blotch at the bottom corner of his left eye. And when it began to spread, Lance's attention snapped to it.

He stopped walking, staring at the light ceiling. A ceiling that was quickly being covered by red.

Shit.

All at once, pain erupted in his heart like a match being dropped into a path of gasoline. The path spread to his lungs, his stomach, his bowels.

Overcome by the agony, Lance collapsed to his knees. His name was called as he became engulfed in a swarm of chilling air, feeling Zidane's hand on his shoulder as his world went black.