Darkness. He had lain alone in it for time unmeasurable, had woken in it, had been dragged to his feet in it, and was now being led through it. Heero was aware that his companions were with him, nearby, though he couldn’t see them. They were silent; the only sound was of feet moving along a stone floor.

Heero’s brain was muddled from the effects of the Spell Stone, but nonetheless, he knew that their captors must have something to do with the two men from the vision, the ones with the Book of Meteors. Something terrible was approaching, he could feel it; something was going to happen to them, and he had the dreadful sensation that they would find out what it was soon enough.

Then there was light, faraway at first, around a bend, then a great gaping hole, a rip in the darkness, and he was being led out into it. The stagnant air of the stone passageways gave way to moving air, outside. Sunlight streamed over him and he was blinded momentarily in the sudden glare. He could hear people, hundreds, perhaps thousands, it seemed, screaming, yelling and calling. As his eyes eased back into sight, he saw that he and the others were standing on a stone platform high in the stands of a great arena. There were indeed thousands of people there, filling the stadium, and the open area below was also packed with the overflow of people who could not fit in the stands. Their screams were of anger, hatred and malevolence. Then Heero realized that the cries were directed at them.

He looked around, and on another platform to one side stood the magician, the one from the vision, in his silvery robes, with the smooth mask covering the top of his head. Heero could sense the strong magic emanating from his person as he raised his arms and spoke to the people, rallying them on to louder cries. The tension in the air was so great, it seemed to Heero that the people could at any moment rush the barriers of the arena and come flooding up the stands towards them.

Then he was turned, pushed back into the darkness, and prodded along, away from the light. His head was clearing, and his mind was racing, trying to decipher his strange surroundings.

"Hey, what’s going on?" came Duo’s demanding voice a few feet away. This was followed by a short grunt and a stiff curse; someone had dealt him a blow.

Heero stumbled along until he was pulled to a stop, and after a short pause, he was shoved over the edge of a shallow step, falling to the ground, and a heavy door slammed behind him. He sensed small movements all around him, but for the most part, it was still.

Then a quiet, muttering voice rose behind and to the right of him. It was Duo, uttering all manners of curses to describe their captors. Heero heard him rise, then take a step.

"Ow!" Duo cried; he had tripped over something.

Heero turned and rose to his knees. "What is it, Duo?"

He heard Duo feeling around in the dark, a rustle of clothes, then he said, "It’s Quatre!"

"What?" said Heero, moving closer to him.

"He wasn’t with us just now," came Wufei’s voice. "When they took us outside."

Heero reached out and found Quatre’s wrist. His skin was warm; he was still alive, but not awake.

"I think he got hit the worst with the Spell Stone," said Heero, remembering how quickly Quatre had fallen unconscious.

He could hear more movement behind him. Another body moved closer; it was Trowa.

"Is he okay?" he asked.

"I don’t know," said Heero.

Wufei was moving around in the dark, pacing off the edges of the room to judge its size. He was finished soon, and said, "They didn’t bother giving us too much room, did they?"

Heero sat back; he was thinking, trying to fathom the meaning of their imprisonment, the people’s anger, the magician speaking to them.

"I just don’t get it," said Duo, standing up. He began to walk around.

"Sit down," said Heero, "or you’ll trip over someone again."

Duo sighed and sat down. "My head…." he muttered, then said, louder, "What in the name of the spirits is going on here? Who was that guy with the mask?"

"He’s a magician," said Heero. "One of the two men in Master J’s vision." He rubbed his eyes; his head hurt as well. "I think he must be the one with the Book."

"You don’t say," said Duo. He yawned. "He felt pretty strong to me."

Heero lay back on the hard stone. The Book was definitely involved here. Could it be? The people in the stadium were being controlled…?

A low moan came from beside him, and he sat up, reaching out a hand to touch Quatre’s arm. He was moving.

"He’s waking up," he said, and there was the sound of movement as the others all came closer.

Quatre began to retch, and Heero turned him onto his side until it subsided. Then Quatre’s voice came weakly, "Where are we?"

"We’re not sure," answered Trowa, and Heero could feel him moving closer in concern for his friend. "How are you feeling, Quatre?"

"Ugh," said Quatre, trying to move again. "I think… I’m okay…."

"Lie down," said Heero, pressing Quatre back to the ground. "You shouldn’t move." He put a hand on Quatre’s chest, trying to sense how badly hurt he was. "Your energy is weak," said Heero, "but I can’t tell very much right now. I’m not a healer."

"Ironic," Quatre laughed weakly, for he was the only healer among them.

"I think we should all get some rest," said Wufei. "There doesn’t seem to be any way out of here, and I have the feeling we’ll need our strength for whatever’s coming."

"I agree," said Heero, not surprised that he wasn’t the only one with the feeling of apprehension. He lay down again, and as the others did so around him, he dropped off to sleep, wrapped in darkness.

A clanging sound awoke Heero, and he sat up, realizing that the heavy door to their cell was opening. Feet shuffled in, and soon a torch was born into the room, and a dull light filled the small space.

Heero looked around. The others were all sitting up as well, except Quatre, who was awake, but still lay on the ground, his face pale. Four men entered the chamber, and then, following after them in the wake of the light, the masked magician.

"I am Zechs Merchise," he said to the apprentices, stepping into the torchlight. Two of the other men, healers, it seemed, were kneeling beside Quatre. Zechs watched them work, and noted Quatre’s weak condition. "Quinze has terrible aim," he said scornfully. Then, to the healers, he said, "Do whatever you have to; we can’t afford to lose even one of them."

Then he turned to the other four magicians. "I suppose you’re wondering what’s going on," he said. His voice was very deep, mellow and carrying little emotion. The long blond hair flowing from beneath the mask glistened and reflected the torchlight. He stood tall and commanding above them, so Heero stood up. Trowa, Duo and Wufei did the same.

Zechs looked them over, seeming to commend their pride, but did not comment on it. He said, "I am truly sorry about all this. I am not a spiteful man, but I must do my duty, in the name of my friend and master, Lord Treize."

"Spit it out already!" said Duo suddenly. "What’s going on?"

Zechs looked at him mildly, then walked over to him, and placed a finger in the middle of Duo’s chest. Before Duo could realize what was happening, a small popping sound echoed around the chamber, and Duo sat down heavily on the ground, coughing and rubbing his chest.

"You will show absolute respect and submission while you are here," said Zechs, turning back to the remaining three apprentices. He watched for a moment as the healers helped Quatre drink from an opaque glass flask, then continued. "What you saw out in the stadium," he said, "was a testimonial of the people’s devotion to Treize and myself." He looked from one defiant face to the other, no emotion showing from beneath his metallic mask. "They believe that you are their enemies, that you are the ones destroying their villages and putting them in danger. Their faith in your magic was already weak since they had not seen it in action for many years. So they were easy to… persuade." He turned from them then, motioning to the soldiers, and made his way to the door.

"What are you going to do with us?" asked Wufei.

Zechs stopped and turned to him. "Why, we must comply with the people’s wishes," he said. The mask glinted. "You will be killed."

As he turned to leave once more, Heero said, "One more question." Zechs stopped but did not turn to face him. Heero continued. "Where did you find the Book of Meteors?"

Zechs was silent for a moment. Then he said, "I suppose I owe you that much." He paused, as if struggling to find words. "My old master’s clan guarded it," he finally said. "And I took it when I came to join Lord Treize." Then he left, and the chamber was filled with absolute blackness once again.

"Terrific," said Duo, and Heero heard him moving. He moaned. "He didn’t have to be so rough with me."

Heero knelt down beside Quatre. Trowa was already there. "How are you, Quatre?" he was asking.

Quatre took a shuddering breath. "Not so great," he said softly. "That stuff they gave me… I feel tired…."

Heero put a hand to his forehead. He had broken out into a sweat.

"He shouldn’t have drank it!" said Duo, moving closer.

"They didn’t poison him," said Heero. "They want us to die publicly, in front of all those people." He sat back. "That stuff will probably make him better."

Quatre’s breathing was deeper and slower now; he was asleep. Heero crossed his legs and bowed his head.

"I can’t believe this," muttered Duo. "No way am I gonna go this easily!"

"Save your strength," said Wufei. "We’re not getting out of this cell. Not now, at least. I checked it while you guys were asleep, and it’s triple-proofed with holding spells. We’re just not strong enough to break them."

"We’ll have to wait for another chance," said Trowa. "Don’t worry, Duo; we’re not giving up."

"I wonder how much time we have," said Wufei. "But in any case, we’ll need as much strength as we can get."

There was a general movement as the others lay down again, but Heero sat up, knowing that he would be unable to sleep. Was the end really this close? It couldn’t be. They had come so far….

Slowly, without realizing it, Heero was lulled back into sleep by the gentle calling of a distant woman in a white dress….

Noin walked into the room where Zechs was speaking with Quinze. He was reprimanding him.

"You need to be more careful," Zechs was saying. "The weak one, the blond; you nearly killed him."

"I’m sorry," Quinze replied, "But the one with the sword came so fast, I didn’t have time to aim."

Zechs waved a hand. "Never mind," he said. "It’s done, and our plan can still proceed." He turned to Noin. "We have decided that the execution will take place at dawn. It will symbolize the beginning of a new age."

Noin nodded, without saying anything. In another time and place, Zechs would have noticed her troubled expression, her unusual silence, and asked her what was bothering her. He would have been able to comfort her. But not now. Now was different. He was not the same man she had come to love.

Now, Zechs turned back to Quinze and began discussing the holding spells guarding the apprentices. Noin turned and left; Zechs did not seem to notice.

She made her way along the dimly lit stone passages, all the time going over the plan in her mind. She must act alone. Nothing could go wrong, or it would mean lost lives. Although this review was slightly comforting, it was more to keep her from thinking about Zechs.

Finally she came to a door, her own chambers, and took out a key to unlock it. It was time….

The sword floated in the air before Heero, its horned hilt and gilded blood channels strangely beautiful in the dream. He grasped for it, but could not reach; it slowly came closer to him, and still his arm would not reach the hilt. Then suddenly it was in his grasp. As he looked it over, he saw there was blood running down its white-gray metal. The blood came from a body, but Heero could not see the face; it was hidden….

The door was clanging again. Heero opened his eyes and raised himself as it swung open and torchlight seeped into the chamber. Was it time already? He looked around at the others; they were raising themselves as well, looking to the death that surely stood beyond the door. Even Quatre sat up now, stronger, and with more color in his face. Heero turned back to the open doorway. One single figure entered, bearing a torch.

Heero stood up to face her. "What have you come for?" He waited for the message of death to be delivered.

But the woman lowered the torch and looked into his steely face. "My name is Lucrezia Noin. I have come to help you."

Heero looked at her, calculating the words. Help?

"Do not be suspicious of me," she said. "I would have no reason to deceive you, and we do not have time." She waved an arm towards the door. "I have brought you help."

Another woman entered the chamber behind her, and came up into the torchlight. The apprentices immediately saw who she was.

"Hilde!" cried Duo, rushing forward to her, stopping just in front of her. "What are you doing here? You rushed off so fast the other night, I–"

She embraced him then, cutting of his words. "Oh, Duo," she said, her voice desperate, "I’m so sorry. They were controlling me, making me say those things, that you should come this way. I couldn’t tell you. They were going to kill me, but Miss Noin stopped them, she saved me and hid me in her chambers until she could get me out. Oh, Duo, I’m so sorry…."

"Whoa, whoa, slow down there," said Duo, looking at her. "They were controlling you? Tried to kill you?"

She nodded. "I’m going to help you get out, though," she said, and looked away. "To make up for leading you into their trap…."

"Hilde," Duo said, tilting her head up again to look at him, "It wasn’t your fault. We don’t blame you at all."

She smiled thankfully, and Noin lifted the torch higher, motioning to the door. The others started to follow her, but Heero said, "Wait. I must retrieve the Epyon. I can’t leave without it."

Noin turned to him. "We can’t afford to be caught. We have to leave immediately; the execution is set for dawn."

Heero shook his head. "I cannot leave without it. I must find it."

Noin looked around at the others, hesitating. "I suppose… the others could go ahead and escape, with Hilde, and I could take you back for the sword–"

"Hey," said Duo, "if Heero stays, I stay. No way is he going back without me." He grinned. "He’s bound to get into some trouble, and he’ll probably need me to bail him out."

"Yeah," said Wufei, "we might need to back each other up."

Trowa nodded, and Quatre said, "We work as a team!"

But Noin shook her head. "No," she said. "Quatre, you’re too weak to take that risk. And the rest of you need to get out. We must make sure that as many as possible of you make it to the spirit realm. I will return with Heero alone." She moved towards the door again, and the others followed hesitatingly.

"Sorry," Duo whispered to Heero, "but I guess you’re on your own for this one."

Noin looked up and down the corridor, then motioned to them. "Hilde," she said, without turning around, "take them as close to the woods as possible, then use your transporting stone to take them as far away as you can. Heero will meet up with you later."

Hilde touched the pink teardrop stone on her forehead. "Got it," she said, and turned down the passage, the four apprentices following after her.

Then Noin turned to Heero. "Zechs keeps the sword in his own chambers," she said. "Follow me." Then she turned down the corridor and walked off briskly with Heero following after her.

The two of them moved down passage after passage, parting the darkness with the torchlight dancing off the walls. Once they heard an approaching night guard, and Heero stood at attention in the shadows while Noin saluted the passing soldiers, and waited until they had passed to continue. Finally, they came to a hallway lined with doors. Noin proceeded to one of these doors.

Turning to Heero, she said, "I’ll show you where it is, and if he wakes up, I’ll keep him busy until you get out."

Heero nodded, but as she raised her hand to open the door, he said suddenly, "Why did you do this?"

She looked at him. "I couldn’t follow them any more," she said slowly, and her voice became low and resentful. "For a long time I had been uncomfortable with Treize’s methods, but trying to kill Hilde was what convince me that I had to do something. I could see that Treize didn’t care what methods he used to achieve his purpose."

"What is his purpose?" Heero asked, but Noin had already swung open the door, and motioned him to be silent.

Noin led him into the room. It was small, dominated by a cluttered table in the center of the room. There were papers covered in markings all over it, and lining shelves around the room were boxes and bottles. A strange, cedar-like smell filled the air, and a door was set into the opposite wall, probably leading to Zechs’ sleeping chambers.

Noin walked over to a chest in the corner of the room and handed the torch to Heero. Lifting the lid of the box, she drew out the scabbard with the sword in it, and taking the torch back, handed the sword to Heero.

Heero buckled it onto his belt, and looked at Noin. "Thank you," he whispered.

She nodded, but before she could lead him back into the corridor, footsteps began echoing from the sleeping chamber. An instant before the door opened, Heero ducked into the shadows beside the chest, and Noin stepped towards the door.

"Noin," Heero heard Zechs make the exclamation. "What are you doing here?"

There was a short pause, then, "I… was lonely. Can I come in?"

Zechs did not answer right away. Then he said, his voice soft, "Noin, I–"

He was cut off suddenly, and Heero could see Noin’s back as she moved into his arms. She drifted out of sight, the door creaked….

"Wait." Zechs’ voice came suddenly from the doorway. There was a moment of silence, a tense second that seemed like longer, then he said, "I… sense a presence. There’s someone here…."

"It’s your imagination," Noin said quietly. "Just forget about it–"

Zechs stepped suddenly into Heero’s view, and Heero looked up at the man standing above him with a torch.

"You," Zechs growled, his eyes widening. "How–"

Heero was on his feet, the Ironblood already drawn and in his hands. Zechs looked at him, then at Noin. "Noin," he said, his voice low, "How did he get in here?"

Noin did not respond, but stared white-faced back at him.

"I see," said Zechs. He turned back to Heero. "Have you come here with the intention of killing me?"

"That was not my original intention," said Heero.

"Hm," Zechs grunted. He began to turn away from Heero. "Let me get my own sword." Then he disappeared into his chambers. Noin and Heero watched each other with regret in their eyes until Zechs reappeared, without the torch but holding a sword.

Heero raised his blade and prepared to fight, aware of the cramped space of the room, but as he looked closer at Zechs’ blade, he gasped.

"That’s right," said Zechs calmly. He raised his own sword, adorned with a familiar horned hilt and gilded blood channels.

"What is the meaning of this?" asked Heero, a feeling of dread settling in his stomach.

"This is the true Epyon of Ironblood," said Zechs. "The one you are holding is a copy." Then he charged.

Heero blocked the blow, but the blade in his hands shuddered violently and he nearly dropped it. Zechs swung again, and Heero ducked; the Epyon’s blade thudded into the wall behind him.

"Did you really think," said Zechs, preparing for another blow, "that I would leave the true sword so poorly guarded?" He swung again at Heero’s head, and the young magician’s ordinary blade shuddered once again and fell from his hands as the two swords made contact.

"No," said Zechs, and stood up. His silvery mask looked bloodstained and coppery in the torch’s light. "The true Ironblood was always with me, carefully guarded."

Heero looked up, clutching his shocked arms, into the avenging face of the man who held death in his hands. "That was not an honorable fight," he said, watching as the blade was raised.

"What is honorable in this world?" answered Zechs, and his voice was filled with a low, rumbling fire that spread numb fear through Heero’s heart.

Suddenly, a cry sprang from Noin’s lips. "Stop!" she cried. "Can’t you see what you’re about to do?"

Zechs turned to her, his lips parted in sudden realization, and she began to approach him. In that instant of hesitation, Heero recognized his chance, and ducking under Zechs’ arms, thrusting them upwards and twisting away, he snatched the blade away and steadied it in his own hands. Knowing it the only way to save his own life, he prepared to drive it through Zechs’ heart.

Zechs looked at him. "Your speed is commendable," he said. Heero steeled his nerves. Master J had told him never to strike an unarmed opponent, but it was the only way to escape and ensure his companions’ safety….

He bent his arms to gather force, and leveled the blade at Zechs’ heart. But as the killing blow drove forward, Noin’s eyes lit with a sudden burst of terrified light. Without a cry or a second’s hesitation, she threw her body at Zechs; he stumbled away from the danger, and Heero’s blade sank swiftly into Noin’s chest.

Time was suspended then, reigned up as if all the world was looking on in horror. Zechs gained his balance in time to see Noin hit the ground, her blood already soaking her chest and arms. Heero had the blade in his hand; the thick read fluid ran through its blood channels and dripped to the floor, pooling on the cold stones and mixing with the blood running from Noin’s body. He looked at the blade, drenched as it had been in his last dream.

Zechs did not move. He stared at Noin, then slowly wrenched his gaze to Heero’s face. His eyes were bright, hollow and unable to see. Then he blinked; the light turned deep, and he was ready to move once again, Heero looming before him, shocked, unable to turn and flee or stand and fight.

But a voice filtered through the air, down through Heero’s churning brain, and he heard the distant calling of a once-gentle woman, now turned urgent and almost frightened.

Heero turned. The darkness gaped ahead of him like a prison, a maw that was ready to swallow him up. He ran.

"Geez, where could he be?" Duo turned once again to pace the distance between the two trees.

"Would you calm down?" said Wufei from his cross-legged seat on the ground.

"Yeah," said Quatre. "I’m sure he’ll be here any minute. I mean, it’s Heero we’re talking about, right? He’ll make it out okay." He was sitting with his back resting against a large old tree. He was still a little weak, but most of his energy had returned.

"I know," said Duo, still pacing. "But it’s been so long, I–"

"Shh," interrupted Hilde, and silence fell as she closed her eyes and raised a hand, facing the direction from which they had come. "I hear–"

"Heero!" said Duo, as the figure of their companion stumbled out of the trees. His face was livid, and he walked with an unnatural clumsiness. "Hey," said Duo, concerned. "Are you hurt?"

Heero did not answer. Instead, he stopped in the middle of the small group, swaying slightly from one foot to the other and looking around at their faces. He was gasping. Then he said, his voice strange, as if he were just realizing something, "Noin…. Noin’s dead…. I killed her…."

The other apprentices looked at him with disbelieving horror on their faces. Trowa stepped forward to catch Heero as his knees gave way.

"What are you talking about?" said Duo, moving to stand beside him.

"I fought Zechs," Heero said. "She got in the way to save him…."

There was a moment of silence as they all took in the information. Quatre started to get up. "Now what?" he whispered.

"We must move on," said Hilde, and as she turned to face him, the grief was apparent in her face. But nonetheless, she repeated, "They’ll be out looking for us. We must move on."

The others nodded slowly, and Heero was helped to his feet. They all turned and moved off into the woods. Heero looked back once over his shoulder at the town where death had stalked him like a cat, and finally caught up with him. Then he moved off into the darkness behind the others.

"How could you do this?"

Zechs was sitting on the floor of the small room. All around him was blood. It was on his legs, his hands. Noin’s head rested in his lap. He slowly ran his fingers through her hair and watched as the blood from his fingertips ran down her forehead and across her pale lips. His eyes were dry; he had not cried yet.

His hand came to a stop and rested on her head. He said, "What reason could you have possibly had? We were winning, we were there… we were so close…." He sighed and bent over so that his cheek rested on her forehead.

"Our dreams. Don’t you remember them?" There was no response, and he sat up again, looking into her still half-open eyes that seemed to be apologizing.

"The house. Don’t you remember the house? With a small farm, and three children, just three. On the grounds of the palace. We would have feasted there…." His voice trailed off, and he could feel the dampness on his cheeks.

"Oh, Noin." The words fell from his lips like a sigh.

Footsteps and shouts echoed in the corridor outside. Men were approaching, following the light from the torch that had fallen from Noin’s hands, and remained half lit on the floor. They crowded the doorway, officers, trying to see what had happened, where the noise had been coming from.

Quinze pushed his way to the front of the crowd and surveyed the grisly scene. "By the spirits, Zechs," he gasped, "What happened?"

Zechs did not look up. "The apprentices are gone," he said.

"Gone?" repeated Quinze, stunned, and a murmur of shock and disbelief ran through the crowd of men. "But… how? The holding spells–"

"A traitor was among us," Zechs said. He looked down into Noin’s eyes. They were beautiful. "She has paid the price for her treachery." A strange, steely note streaked his voice.

"What should we do?" asked Quinze, slight hesitation in his words.

Zechs’ eyes glazed over as he stared at the blood in his hands.

"I will find them. I will find the one who wields the Ironblood. And I will kill him."

Stay tuned for Part 5 of Ironblood

Next Time: The magicians learn of the strange legend surrounding the guardians of the spirit realm. As they are guided by a new friend and enter the far northern colonies in the mountains, their goal is finally within their grasp. But they must prepare to face great danger, for a bitter and ruthless Zechs is close on their heels….