This wasn't the first time Gray stood before the entire Troit Council. Many times in the past, he had to stand before this group of old men and give a report or get his marching orders. He knew their faces well, and frankly, they were just as ugly as he remembered them.

Still, this time was different.

Gray stood before the group of aging veterans, his expression serious. Unlike the previous occasions where he had barely paid attention them, he gave the Council his full attention. Because this time, it actually meant something.

Gray didn't have to say anything. He just listened, as did the Elders of the Council, while Raith explained what had happened. His detailed summary of what had happened over the past week had left nothing out. From the way they had tracked Jett to Shann Tei, to when they had found him amongst a civilian convey fleeing the ruined city, and even how they had confronted him. Of course, the highlight of the report was the surprise appearance of the the Kairg, of all people, which had distracted them long enough for Jett to disappear.

That, coupled with Gray's suspicions about Jett's relation to Raven, had led them to return to headquarters and report to the Council. While they could have found the kid's trail once more, it was more important for the Council to know what was going on. Especially considering that Raven himself was the blood child of Ra'Skevvor, and if the connection truly existed between the traitorous young Talon and Raven, then this whole mess just got more complicated.

Raith finished the report and fell silent. He appeared calm and unaffected by the whole situation, while Gray was having a hard time just trying not to fidget. It felt like ants were crawling on his skin. It was weird that he was so anxious, because this wasn't even about him. It was about that stupid brat!

After a long silence, one of the Elders moved his heavy stare from Raith to Gray. He was a big man, with wide shoulders and thick arms. It was clear that even though he was well past his prime, he still maintained his body as best he could. He'd once been a strong flyer, and that pride still shone within his steely gaze.

"Is this true?"

It was simple question. Yet Gray found his tongue sticking in place. A simple "yes" or "no" would have sufficed to answer, but for some reason, he couldn't quite bring himself to say either. A "no" would deny that everything Raith said was true, and then that would be that.

But he couldn't do that. Not when he knew what he knew. Not when Raven had died for nothing.

Then, he should just answer with a "yes". That was the most logical choice. Yet, he couldn't bring himself to say that either, because then that would effectively sign Jett's death warrant. It was the right thing to do. Jett had made his choice. This was the consequence. And as the only remaining Talon, Gray had every right to sign that warrant.

"Talon Gray," The Elder's voice carried a sharp edge that could not be masked by his mild tone. "Is this true?"

Gray grit his teeth. He felt like he was being squashed against the wall, and it was not something he appreciated. This was why he'd left most of the reporting to Raven. That guy could insult the Council to their faces and still get away with it.

Raven, how did this happen? A surge of bitterness rose and flowed like the tide, and he gathered his resolve. Choices had been made. Now it was time for the consequence. "Yeah," he said, his voice a little rough. "It's true."

"We are aware that the records show a discrepancy," Raith added. He'd seen the doubting frown on one of the other Elder's faces. "But as it stands, no one knows Jett's true age. Gray has admitted that he went with what the kid told him, which could easily be a lie. The records can only be taken at face value. Whether he is truly Raven's offspring cannot be proven with certainty, however - the evidence does not lie: The Kairg intervened on his behalf."

"Indeed," said the large Elder. His expression was neutral, showing none of his thoughts. "The relationship with Raven is of no importance. What matters is he holds Ra'Skevvor's interest. That is something we can use."

One of the other Elder's, who sat at the far end, coughed lightly. This one appeared to be frail and thin to the point of being nearly skeletal. His head had lost all hair long ago, resulting into in a bald, egg-shaped head that appeared too large for his thin frame. Unsettling pale blue eyes opened, shifting towards the large Elder.

"You intend to bait the fox," he rasped. Even his voice sounded weak. But only a fool would be mislead, for his pale gaze was icy clear.

The large Elder bared his teeth in a brief, humorless smile. "Perhaps, Helios. But before we can create a trap, we need have absolute certainty that our young traitor holds value as bait."

The skeletal Elder, Helios, merely harrumphed in reply. He then leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. To everyone's eyes, he appeared completely motionless, like he was asleep. Or dead.

Gray grimaced. Dealing with these old guys was never pleasant. Every time he came away from a meeting with them, he always felt like he dove into a slimy pool of filth. And right now was no exception. They may appear old and harmless - maybe even senile - but he knew better.

"You want us to try and capture him again?" He asked. Maybe the Kairg would interfere once more.

"No." The large Elder immediately said. "Your part is done, Talon Gray. You, along with Lante of the Twelve, will report to the Front. Kairg war machines have been moving towards nearby cities. As our only remaining Talon, you are needed to bolster our defenses."

Gray opened his mouth to protest, but caught it at the last second. He wanted to say that his duty should be with tracking down Jett, because wasn't it the Talon's responsibility to deal with a Talon traitor? That was how it always had been. The flyer guilds looked after their own. Always.

Almost as if reading his thoughts, the large Elder simply looked at him. The Elder's expression remained as bland as ever, with not even a shadow or hint of change. Yet Gray suddenly got the impression that he was standing on a pile of hot coals. Only a simple breeze was needed to fan those coals into a raging inferno. And this Elder was holding that breeze within the palm of his hand.

To protest, would be incomparably unwise. It would also be a lot more trouble than it was worth. Gray sighed, giving in. "All right. I'll leave Jett to you. But he's not going to be easy to catch, you know. Don't forget that he was trained by Raven."

A smile that was not a smile spread on that bland face. The large Elder acknowledged Gray's words. "We are aware, Talon Gray. Now, you may go. Lante is already on his way to the Front; he will inform you on the situation once you arrive."

Gray knew a dismissal when he saw one. Even though he felt mostly relieved to leave this problem in another's hands, a small part of him still felt anxious. When he stepped out of the tent, he wore a frown.

Flyers had gathered in the nearby area, clearly trying to learn what was happening. After all, it was an extremely rare occasion for a Troit flyer to go rogue. Before Jett, the last one to turn traitor was none other than Ra'Skevvor himself.

As Gray emerged, he was instantly swarmed by curious flyers. Before they could even start to ask him about the Elder's decision, his frown became a dark glare. "Shut up!" he snarled, even though no one actually had said anything yet.

The two nearest flyers got shoved to the side as Gray swept through. The rest had enough brains to quickly get out of his way. Even the dumbest among them knew that an angry Gray was a dangerous Gray.

They could only watch in mute curiosity as he left, and wonder just what the Elders had decided to do with Jett.

Judging by Gray's reaction, it surely couldn't be good.

Inside the tent, Raith gave a gentle sigh. "Even though he has made the correct decision, it's clearly still a difficult one for him. We are all better off if he remains excluded from any further involvement with this matter."

"Indeed," the large Elder said. "I am pleased to see that his loyalties remain where they should be. It is fortunate that he has come forward when he did, otherwise ..." Trailing off, the Elder's lips twitched in peculiar upwards curve. His eyes seemed bright. "It may have become difficult for you, Raith,"

The lean scout's chin lifted ever so slightly. "Difficult or not, I would have done my duty." There was a hint of pride in his voice, and after a moment's pause, he lowered his gaze respectfully. "Elder Kratos. Even if you ask me to assassinate Ra'Skevvor himself, I will do so."

"Don't be foolish," the large Elder - Kratos - seemed amused. "Even for a man of your talents, it would be simply sending you to your death. You may be able to handle a Talon, but the Kairg leader himself? That is a different matter entirely. Now, let us address the problem at hand. How do you think we should proceed?"

Raith remained silent for a bit, taking the time to think carefully. The Council of Elders were quiet as well. Aside from Kratos, who was actively taking part in this matter, and Helios - who had shown a brief moment of interest, the rest of the Council appeared to not even be paying attention.

One snoozed in his chair, a great snow-white beard rising and falling as it rested on his broad chest. Another two had turned their chairs to the side, and were deeply involved in an intricate game of Chess. They mumbled occasionally, but for the most part, they too, kept their silence.

The sixth Elder was writing in a thick, handbound leather book. As he filled a page, he'd turn it and keep writing. Compared to all the rest, he appeared to be fairly young, being in his mid fifties or so.

Having been in their presence more times than he could count, Raith was completely accustomed to this. As far as he could tell, Kratos seemed to deal with the day-to-day affairs, while the others would occasionally chime in. Sometimes the sixth Elder - Pontos - would take over for Kratos, but for the most part, he seemed content to remain buried in his books.

After a few minutes, Raith pinched the bridge of his nose. Then he glanced at all the Elders in turn, before settling his attention upon Kratos. "I have some ideas. But I will require some assistance in order for me to act upon them."

"Very well," Kratos nodded. "Who do you need?"

Raith held up two fingers. "Just two for now. Syk. And Yvan."

There was a glimmer of suprise on Krato's usually impassive face. Raith didn't blame him. After all, the two flyers he asked for were members of the Twelve. One was a medic, and the other a Mountain flyer. In order for this whole thing to work, however, he needed them.

Thankfully, Kratos didn't deny him. "Done. Do as you wish."

"Thank you, sir." Raith saluted, as was proper. Even though he was immensely pleased, he didn't let any of it show.

"Mm," Kratos leaned back in his chair. "If you succeed in this, Raith ... there is an empty spot amongst the Twelve. It is yours, if you wish it."

Startled, Raith froze. Then he merely smiled, saying nothing in response. With a final salute, he turned and left the tent.

Behind him, Helios opened his eyes once more. "He won't take it," he rasped. "He didn't before, and he won't now."

Glancing over at the skeletal Elder, Kratos lifted a brow. "If not him, then who else is deserving? A volatile Talon? Heh. Regardless, that spot should not remain empty for long."

"Pah." Helios leaned to the side, and spat a glob of phlegm onto the ground. Then he straightened, and appeared to go to sleep once more.

~*RW*~

"Haaah," Jett exhaled heavily. He leaned forward, resting his hands against his knees. It had taken a while, but he managed to find his way back to the farmhouse where the Crossfires had made camp last night.

Now it was midday, judging by the sun's position. It shone merrily down through patches of clouds, as if it didn't care in the slightest about Jett's miserable mood.

As it turned out, Ra'Skevvor hadn't taken him that far away - if a person walked steadily for a couple hours, they could have easily covered the distance. However, Jett had spent most of the night wandering around in an angry haze. Being unfamiliar with the area, Jett wasted a lot of time trying to get his bearings. That, and he had trouble focusing on the simple problem of finding his way back, because his mind was full of Ra'Skevvor's creepy words.

"Join me."

"Struggle as much as you can."

"I will be waiting for you."

He wanted to puke. And he probably would have, if his stomach hadn't been empty to the point of starvation. Instead, he was doomed to wander around the darkness for the rest of the night. By the time the sun started to rise, he was in a foul mood.

There was one positive, though. The tablet that Ra'Skevvor had forced him to swallow seemed to be a painkiller of the highest quality. It killed nearly all of the pain that came from his badly bruised torso, so he was able to fly in short spurts. Once he took to the sky, it didn't take him too long to spot the distant shape of Mianka.

From there, he spent the rest of the time walking. Even though he felt minimal pain, he was still very much aware of his injury. The faster it healed, the better off he would be. Because there was no way Gray was going to just give up. It was only a matter of time before Troit came for him again.

Now that he was at the farmhouse, he saw that the place had been abandoned. True to their word, the Crossfires had moved on and left him behind. The signs of them being there were everywhere. Two piles of ashes and half-burnt logs marked where the huge bonfires had been. There were tire tracks and packed ground, along with a few pieces of trash that had been thrown to the side.

It was something he expected to see, yet it still brought on a sense of loss. Of loneliness. Hadn't he finally found some people who were willing to take him in? So why was he alone once more?

Almost as if hearing his thoughts, a raven croaked from where it sat in one of the trees. Jett glanced at it, then sighed. "At least you won't leave me, right Ravia?" The large raven preened in response.

It made him feel a tiny bit better. At least he was accustomed to being alone, from when he'd been raised as an outcast outside the village. For a short while, he had his mother. And when she found her way into an early grave, he had to learn to live on his own. Although the villagers helped a little, they kept their distance and left him alone.

Just like now.

He pushed open the farmhouse door and stepped inside. The wooden flooring creaked beneath his boots, and a musty smell greeted him. The place was quite rundown. In a few years or so, perhaps it would start to show signs of collapse.

The main area housed the kitchen and living area, while a narrow hallway led to a couple of bedrooms and bathroom. Wandering throughout the house, Jett observed the place. The bathroom was no longer in working condition, which didn't make much difference to him. The outdoors served well enough for his needs. One of the bedrooms still had a slightly sour-smelling mattress on a rickety bed frame, while the other just had an empty metal frame. Someone had piled a bunch of canvas sacks stuffed with grass onto the frame, creating a sort of makeshift mattress. Judging by the fresh, slightly sweet scent, it had been done yesterday by some of the Crossfires.

Wandering back to the kitchen, Jett took note of a table and chairs, as well as a series of empty cabinets and a hunk of metal that had once been a functional stove. Pulling open the lid, he saw a pile of ash inside - someone had built a fire inside and used it anyway, although there wasn't anywhere for the smoke to go but inside the room. He made a face.

Glancing at the table, he saw that Jerrick had kept to his word - a small radio unit was left on its surface. A spare pair of batteries lay beside it. Frowning a little, he left the farmhouse, deciding to ignore it for now. He didn't feel like trying to use it. And even if Jerrick chose that moment to call him on the radio, he wasn't sure that he'd even answer.

They had left him alone. And right now, he wanted to be alone.

There was a good amount of bushy land about this place, which meant there was sure to be some wild chickens or rabbits around. Perhaps even some deer. It had been a long time since he'd gone hunting, but since the Crossfires didn't see fit to leave him any food behind, he was going to have to get his own.

Just like he had in the past.

He held out an arm and whistled. With an answering caw, Ravia left her tree. She ignored his arm entirely and dropped onto his head, her talons digging painfully into his scalp. Jett winced, and dropped his arm. You silly bird. You're going to do things on your terms, is that it?

A faint smile came unbidden to his face, and some of the frustration seemed to fade. It was kind of like being back by the Putarc forest, wasn't it? Perhaps this wouldn't be so bad, after all.