"This is the place?" Swaine asked as they stood in front of a traditional Hamelin house at the end of a street. Oliver nodded. "Marcassin said no.90, and this is no.90. It has to be it. This person... I hope I have the right type of heart peice to help them..."

"You'll be fine Oliver! The only ones you are missing are love and courage! Dont worry!"

"Let's get on with it" swaine walked up and knocked on the door. It opened a crack. A woman with white hair glanced out. "Hello?"

The moment she saw swaine she tackled him to the ground.

"GET THIS CRAZY WOMAN OFF OF ME!" Swaine yelled, and Oliver started forward until Esther held him back with a giggle. When he stared at her, she explained.

"She's brushing his hair"

Oliver began to snicker.

Finally swaine shoved her off. "WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?" he shouted, and the woman waved a hairbrush at him. "Your hair is just terrible, I couldn't let it be!"

"IS THAT THE REASON?!"

"Do calm. Why are you even here?"

Swaine ran his fingers irritably through his now brushed hair as a giggling Esther spoke up.

"Um yeah, we were sent by prince marcassin? Apparently there's someone brokenhearted who lives here, and we are hoping to fix it"

"Oh" her face softened. "Yes, I see. But can you really do so?"

"We hope"

"Then come in"

They walked in. Oliver had to admit, the house was lovely. It had wooden furniture, and the wood was obviously very beautifully carved. There were peaceful paintings and everything was arranged in a very orderly fashion.

"HEY, WE GOT VISITORS!" the girl shouted, and the sound of shuffles from above was heard.

"Oh by the way, what's your name?" Esther asked, and the woman smiled. "I'm Krystal. It doesn't seem she wants to come down, I'm afraid you will have to go up"

"Oh, that's OK, as long as we aren't intruding , like...." Drippy said, and she chuckled. "No no, it's fine!"

They ascended the stairs, Esther resiting the urge to bend over and touch the beautiful navy carpet. It looked so soft!

They came across a large white door. Oliver hesitated before opening it.

A young woman started in shock as they came in. Oliver anylised her. She had long brown hair that reached her waist, with dark brown eyes. She had bags under her eyes, she probably hadn't slept. She was rather skinny, and seemed to be shaking since they came in.

Oliver looked around the room too. Unlike the rest of the house, her room was messy. Clothes were strewn across the floor and papers (blueprints) piled up on a desk. A... Wrench? Sat there too.

But what startled Oliver the most was the sword. The beautifully handmade sword that sat in the corner, gleaming.

That sword belonged to-