"Heath, have you seen Pa?" Ike appeared at Heath's side, nearly giving him a heart attack. But what really almost gave him a scare was the tone of Ike's voice and the look on his face. Ike's voice was filled to the brim with worry, and his eyes reflected his terror. 

"No, I haven't," Heath told him. "Not since yesterday. Is something wrong?"

"I'm not sure," Ike admitted. "I didn't see him at breakfast this morning, and when I went to his room to speak with him he wasn't there."

"Are you sure you went to the right room? This place is so big I got lost six times on my way to the bathroom last night."

"I'm sure," Ike said, "and that's why I'm worried."

"Has he gone to visit Zia?" Heath wondered aloud.

Ike shook his head. "That was my first thought as well, but Link said that he hadn't seen Arch since yesterday afternoon."

"Perhaps he is with the King?" he suggested, trying to calm his friend's heightened nerves. "With the oncoming battle, I'm sure Arch is offering his strategic expertise."

But to Heath's dismay, Ike shook his head. "Donathan hasn't seen him either. He even sent out a servant to look for him, but they still can't find him."

"That's very unlike him to just disappear like that," Heath said, starting to pick up on some of Ike's worry.

"Exactly. He seems to have just fallen off the face of the earth."

Heath placed a hand on Ike's shoulder. "I'm sure he'll turn up soon. He probably just went for a walk or something." It sounded desperate, even to him, but Heath willed himself to believe it to be true. Arch couldn't be missing. Not now, not with the oncoming battle that could decide the fate of the entire kingdom. He just couldn't.

"I hope you're right, Heath," Ike said earnestly. "Because I don't think I can face those armies without knowing that he's safe."

"His grandfather taught him the ways of the Trodaithe," Heath reminded him. "If any of us are safe, it's him."  As soon as Heath had found out where Arch had learned to fight, he had taken it upon himself to inform Ike, at the very first opportunity. He felt that as Arch's son, Ike deserved to know.

Ike huffed a laugh. "I'm still having trouble wrapping my mind around that."

"Me too," Heath agreed. "I'm surprised you didn't know."

"I am too," he grumbled under his breath. "I've asked him before where he had learned to fight, but he always just told me that it was his grandfather. I never even thought to question where my great-grandfather had learned. I just assumed that he was like Jay and taught himself to fight.

"You're right, though," Ike continued. "He can take care of himself." He sighed. "I'd just feel better knowing where he is." 

They fell silent, neither knowing what to  say to break the awkwardness that had settled over them. Then Ike said, "How's Zia? I've been helping Jay put together supplies and weapons for the men that the King and Pa have been able to round up, and I haven't gotten around to seeing her yet."

"She's well," Heath said. "Link's taken good care of her. He's changed the bandages on her leg and he's given her a lot of herbs and things to drink. Of course, Zia says she feels fine and that it's nothing to fuss over, but you know how she is... What?" Heath saw the knowing look on his friend's face and stopped.

Ike smirked widely and appeared to be shaking from the effort of not laughing. 

"What is it?" Heath demanded.

Finally, Ike could hold back no longer and burst into laughter. He clutched his stomach, which drew some very odd glances from passing servants.

"Did I say something?" Heath asked, thoroughly confused. 

Ike was laughing too hard to answer, but he did shake his head. Finally, he calmed himself down enough to say, "You didn't have to say anything. Your face said it all."

"Said what all?"

Ike stopped laughing and gave Heath a look- and with the look all of what Ike was saying came crashing down on Heath. At first he felt stupid for not realizing sooner, but then he felt himself turning beet red from the tip of his head to where his neck met his tunic collar from embarrassment. 

"You haven't told her how you feel about her, have you?" Ike asked, though it wasn't really a question. 

Heath shook his head, avoiding Ike's gaze and trying to stop the color rushing to his cheeks. His face was so hot he could have sworn it had instantly become summer.

Ike chuckled again and placed a brotherly hand on Heath's shoulder. "Believe me, Heath, if you don't tell her soon, you'll lose her."

"But..." Heath started, but he couldn't finish. There were so many reasons why he should just keep his mouth shut, but he couldn't name any of them, because he knew Ike would tell him that he was being silly and that he worried too much. 

Ike smiled at him, as if he knew exactly what Heath had been thinking. "Look," he said, "You've fancied her for years- ever since I can remember. So when are you going to do something about it?"

Heath said nothing as he thought of Ike's words. Perhaps he was right. Maybe he should tell Zia... 

Ike could see in Heath's eyes that he had almost convinced him- almost. He just needed one last little push.

"You know," Ike said casually, "with the uncertain future ahead of us, I don't think there'd be a greater time to tell her because, let's be honest about this, the chances of us all making it out of here alive are slim to none. Do you really want to risk her never knowing how you felt?"

Ike then walked away, leaving Heath in a stupor of thought.

Zia couldn't stop thinking. What she was thinking about, she couldn't be sure. Her mind would only focus on one topic for a few moments, and then quickly be distracted by some other unrelated thought. But one thing that seemed to come up consistently was hearing William Borton's last words to her: Love is the key.

The key. The key to what? Zia thought. What was it that was locked that she needed a key for? And why was love the key? The key to happiness? No. Borton seemed very intent on getting her out of the Skilaen army camp. He wouldn't have wasted time just to tell her something as cliché as that. It must have been important, or else he would have left it unsaid. Unfortunately, there was no point to a key if it did not have a lock to go with it. So Zia sat there wondering and wondering what the lock was, where it was, and what it was keeping inside. 

A knock on the door made Zia jump. She had been so deep in thought she'd forgotten for a moment where she was, and the knock quickly brought her out of her musings. 

"Come in!" she called from her bed. Though Link had redressed her wound and rubbed it with different salves and balms and she felt very little pain (just a faint throbbing), he still insisted that she stay in bed and not move her leg too much.

The door opened and it was Ike who entered. 

"Ike!" Zia said happily. "It's good to see you!"

"I could say the same," Ike smiled easily as he came closer and enveloped her in a hug before he sat down in the seat positioned near her bed. "You look well."

"I feel well," Zia agreed. "Everyone's taking my injury too seriously."

"No they're not," Ike said, his voice suddenly hard. "You weren't there, Zia. You didn't see how pale you looked... I thought you were dead."

"I'm fine," Zia promised. "I feel fine. Link's taken good care of me. I barely even feel it. It's just a bit sore, that's all."

"And you promise you won't try to get back on your feet before Link says it's alright?" he asked.

"Cross my heart," Zia vowed, drawing an X on her chest over her heart.

"Good." Ike nodded, satisfied. Then his face turned to one of worry. "Has Pa been down to visit you by chance?"

"No," Zia said slowly. "I've not seen him since yesterday. Why?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.

Ike sighed. "I can't find him anywhere. He's not in his room, he's not in the kitchens, none of the servants have seen him, and we could be attacked at any moment."

"Well, he can't have just disappeared off the face of the earth," Zia said, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "He has to be somewhere. Wherever he is, I'm sure he'll be fine."

Ike nodded, but he didn't look convinced. "I'm sorry I haven't been to see you until now," he said, suddenly changing the topic. "I've been a bit busy looking for Pa."

Zia waved his apology aside. "I should be the least of everyone's worries with the oncoming battle. How are preparations going for that, by the way?"

Ike sighed. "They could be better. To be honest, they probably couldn't be much worse. We don't have enough men to put up a real fight, and we don't have enough weapons to supply the men we do have. And if that weren't enough, we're about to be crushed between two armies."

"Well, when you say it like that you make it sound almost as if we've found ourselves in a sticky situation," Zia said sarcastically. 

Ike laughed, but it was short-lived. "What are we going to do, Zia?" he asked, his voice desperate. "Even with the men we've recruited from the evacuees, we don't have the force we need to drive the Skilaens away. And even if we did, we don't have the supplies we need to give us a fighting chance. We need more weapons. The miners usually supply the kingdom with the materials the army needs for weapons, but they've been enlisted in the army. With no one in the mines and no supplies coming in, things aren't looking too bright for us."

"We'll find a way," Zia said determinedly.

"How? What can we do?" Ike demanded, though he didn't say it angrily. It was more like a cry, a plea.

Zia fell silent, thinking hard. What could they do? The capital and the people who lived there were going to find themselves in a very tight spot in a few short hours, and the King who they looked to for protection could not provide it. They simply didn't have the men...

"That's it!" Zia cried joyously. 

"What's it?" Ike asked, looking startled at her sudden outburst. 

"You said we don't have the men we need, correct?"

"Yes," he said slowly, not sure where this was going.

"So use the women!" she said excitedly. "Enlist the help of the women of the refugees!"

"What? Zia, are you feeling alright?" he asked, as if thinking she was losing her mind.

But Zia was too excited to snap at him. "Use the women," she kept saying. "We can double our numbers with them!"

"Zia, no, are you crazy?" he stopped her before she could continue with her mad idea. "The women can't fight. They don't know how!"

"I'll teach them," she said determinedly.

"In less than a day?" Ike said doubtfully. He shook his head. "You're good, but you're not that good. For all your bravado and grit, you can't train an army in less than a day, and and army can't learn everything you know in less than a day. And who's to say they'll even want to help?"

"Of course they'll want to!" Zia said indignantly. "They've been forced out of their homes. They've watched their children and families suffer. They're angry with the Skilaens for forcing this misfortune upon them. Give them the chance, and they will retaliate."

Ike conceded that she might have a point, but...

"Even so, they can't learn to fight in less than twelve hours. And you're injured."

"I'm fine," she said, waving his concern away. Then her face changed to a pleading look. "Please, Ike, I can't stay in here doing nothing while you're all out there risking your lives. Please, let me do something." She fell silent to let her plea sink in, and then said, "I know I won't be able to teach them everything, but I can teach them the basics. I can help them protect themselves. I can teach them to block, parry, strike."

Zia could see in Ike's face that he thought it was a good idea, but her heart sunk to her gut when Ike pointed out one major flaw that she had overlooked.

"How are we supposed to give them the weapons? We don't have enough for the people we have already."

Zia felt her hopes die down as she saw the sense in this point, but she quickly flared up again. "Home!"

"Excuse me?" Ike asked, not sure he had heard her correctly.

"Home," she repeated. "You know, the place where you've been living for the past twelve years? Tons of Thieves are constantly coming and going? Headquarters?"

"I know what home is," he said impatiently. "What I don't know is what it has to do with our weapons shortage."

"The arena, Ike!" she burst, thinking of where she used to train and practice her sword fighting. "It's filled to the brim with weapons that Arch has collected and we've stolen over the years!"

A light lit within Ike's eyes and he sat up a little straighter. "Zia, you're brilliant!" He grinned like a madman- but to Zia's frustration and disappointment, his face fell back into a thinking frown.

"Stop doing that!" she snapped. "What's the matter this time?"

"Well, I don't know if you'd noticed, Zia, but all those weapons are at home and we're here. How are we supposed to get them here in time?"

"I'll go get them," Zia said instantly. "I'll take a wagon and a horse, and I'll-"

"No," he interrupted. "Absolutely not."

Zia huffed and crossed her arms over her belly. "And why not?"

"Because you're still injured!" he replied heatedly. "The circumstances don't change that fact."

"Perhaps not, but the ends do justify the means!" she replied- just as angry. Then, calming her temper, she said, "If we don't get the weapons here, the whole kingdom is lost."

"I never said we weren't going to get the weapons," Ike said, trying to calm her.

"Yes you did! Not thirty seconds ago!"

"No, I said you won't be going to get the weapons," he pointed out. "We will get them by some other means."

"But I'm the best choice for the job!" she protested. "I'm the only one here who knows the whereabouts of our hideout and how to get there who is not getting prepared for the battle!"

"We'll find some other way," he said soothingly, "but you promised you wouldn't do anything until Link told you that you could."

Zia groaned in frustration. "You expect me to just sit here and do nothing while you, Heath, Arch, and Jay risk your lives out there? I need to do something!"

"You are doing something, Zia. You're keeping yourself safe."

Zia glared at him. "Something useful."

"That is useful!" Ike insisted. "Zia, you're the Golden-Eyed One! Whatever sort of secret magical powers Daxtor thinks you have, you can use that against him."

"But I don't have any secret magical powers," she said, in case he needed reminding.

"I know that, and you know that, but Daxtor clearly doesn't. Otherwise he wouldn't have started this war to use you to get eternal glory in his kingdom, or whatever it is he's after."

"What does this have to do with me doing something useful?" she demanded.

"You're our secret weapon," he said without missing a beat. "If things are looking bad, you can threaten to whip out your powers and obliterate them if they don't surrender."

Zia knew Ike was trying to make her feel better and also give her an excuse to stay well out of harm's way, but the way he put it made her feel more like a only-if-things-are-so-bad-we-can't-do-it-without-her person, and she hated it.

Ike's voice turned to a plea. "Please, Zia, just keep yourself safe and hidden. I promise you, your time to fight will come, just not for a while."

"Fine," she resigned, though not happy about it.

A knock on the door echoed around the room, and when Ike called for the knocker to enter, a short, portly man opened the door, out of breath and with beads of sweat running down his red face. "I'm sorry for the intrusion, but I've been told to inform you that the scouts have just sighted the Skilaen army. The battle is about to commence."

"Are you ready, my dear?" Daxter entered Elaina's tent, which was set up within sight of the great towering castle of Otar's King in the distance.

"Yes, Papa," Elaina said quietly as she repositioned her uncomfortable armor. She wasn't used to wearing armor, and she couldn't understand how soldiers could stand to wear it every day and night.

Daxtor looked upon his daughter with a strange look, as if studying her. Elaina, who stood in front of a mirror, once again shifted in her armor to avoid looking at her reflection. 

"Something is bothering you," he said at last. "What is it? Are you having second thoughts about your mission?"

"No!" Elaina said a little too quickly. "No, Papa, I'm very ready for my mission."

"Then what is it that is bothering you?" he demanded.

Elaina avoided her father's gaze and looked down at the floor.

"Tell me, Elaina," Daxtor said in a fatherly voice as he placed a hand on her shoulder. "What is troubling your mind?"

Elaina sighed. "It's Ike," she said quietly.

"Ike? he asked, confused.

"Ike, the boy who taught me to throw knives," she clarified. 

"Ah, the cursed farmer's boy," Daxtor growled. Then, keeping his temper in check, he asked, "What about him?"

Avoiding her father's eyes, she said, "He's a good person, Papa. He was kind to me and taught me how to fight."

"And?" Daxtor said unimpressed, not seeing the point and getting a little impatient.

"I can save him, Papa," she said at last, and once she started to speak the words came flooding out. "I know he'd be on our side if it weren't for Zia's power over him. I know if I can just reason with him, he can be freed from her control."

As Elaina spoke Daxtor watched her very carefully, and when she finished it was some time before he finally spoke. "You care for this boy." It wasn't a question, and he didn't say it like one. He said it as though it were a fact of life, like how the sky was blue and the grass was green. Elaina turned a delicate hue of pink in her cheeks and she looked hard at the ground.

"I see," said Daxtor slowly. "So you would have me bring the boy here so you can try to break him free of the Golden-Eyed One's power?"

"I won't just try," Elaina said firmly. "I will save him." There was a determined glint in her eye, and resolve in every inch of her face.

Her father stared at her for a long time before he sighed and put an arm across Elaina's shoulders. "My dear," he said gently, as though he were speaking to a toddler who might throw a fit at any moment, "I'm afraid that, though noble, your quest to save this young man is futile."

"What do you mean?" Elaina demanded. "I'm sure I can do it."

"Of your determination I have no doubt, my girl," he said, "but I'm afraid that it won't be enough to save him, for he is already gone."

Elaina's gut clenched and her stomach sank to her toes. "What do you mean?" she said quietly, as if the world were glass. She forgot her discomfort in her armor and the task ahead of her. All she could focus on was the words her father was saying to her- a strange, hungry glint in his eye.

"Think about it, my dear," Daxtor said scoffingly. "He's been under the influence of that power-hungry tyrant for nearly a dozen years. His will is practically her own! I'm afraid his mind is the Golden-Eyed One's."

"No," said Eliana, shaking her head, a look of horror on her face. "No, that can't be true. I know Ike, he's a good person!"

"Be that as it may, my dear, his life is Zia's to command, and nothing can change that." Then a mischievous glint sparkled in Daxtor's eye, and a sly smile spread on his face. "Except for..."

"Except for what?" Elaina demanded, a glimmer of hope rising in her chest.

"Except for Zia's death. If she were to die-"

"Then her power over everyone would die with her!" Elaina finished excitedly. "Of course! I can save myself and Ike!"

"Yes, my dear," Daxtor said happily. "I felt that perhaps your resolve to kill her was not strong enough to save simply your own mind, and I was worried that you might back out. But now that you know your young man can be saved as well... Well, I'm sorry I ever doubted you." He embraced her in his arms, a cold, heartless smile upon his face. "I should warn you, though, Elaina, that should you encounter this young man, this Ike, on your quest, he would try everything in his power to stop you."

"I won't fail, Papa," she promised as she closed her eyes and hugged him tighter. "I'll save myself and Ike, and regain the glory that our kingdom deserves." This wasn't just for her now. This was for Ike. And come rain, snow, injury, or fiery brimstone falling from the heavens, she would complete her task. She had to, or Ike was already gone.