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From Wuw Archive

"Hmhmhmhmhm… at long last… our goal… is finally… ready… to be… realized…"

"Not yet. Soon. We need time. The longer we can remain in secrecy, the better."

"Fine… but what's left to do? Everything's organized, and our forces are ready!"

"It is imperative that we recruit more allies-"

"Allies? Allies?! What on earth would we possibly need allies for?! If all of us worked together, we could outmatch either of these pathetic armies!"

"Could you take out their armies if they worked together?"

"What? But-"

"The Litsilians and Darfonians are a lot of things. They're stubborn, shortsighted… I could go on. But they aren't stupid. If they discovered our organizations, our purposes… they might finally get smart and work together against us. We can't risk that."

"So what do you want me to do?"

"The Litsilians may be tough, but they trust too easily. Here's what you need to do…"

...

Magma Tunnels. An unusual haven, one where interconnected tunnels weaved around and through the remains of a great caldera. Was it unwise to live in such a place? Perhaps. But the Litsilians, the ones who inhabited these tunnels, knew what they were doing. They were also quite used to the heat. And they had learned how to manipulate it, should combat be necessary. War was on the rise here on Elemania. The Litsilians could feel it coming. It was just a matter of time...

Nyjole trotted around Magma Tunnels contently, humming a catchy tune to himself. His internal clock told him it was about dawn, but when you were living in a complex of underground tunnels, you couldn't be quite sure. He turned a corner, and found himself peering over a cliff. A small pool of water rested at the bottoms. It was one of the few springs that existed in Magma Tunnels. He sat down by the edge of the cliff, and through the rising steam, he could see his reflection...

All Elemen looked different, some of them as different as different can be. However, if you looked carefully, you'd notice there was somewhat of a standard model among them. A round ball, serving as both a body and a head. Two arms, two somethings that were probably ears, and one or two feet.

Nyjole didn't stray from this pattern. His body was a solid gray color. Two feet, light gray in color, protruded from his underside. His arms, fairly short, usually swung back and forth at his sides. His eyes glowed a bright hue of orange. His expression was interesting: friendly, with a hint of determination in his gaze.

What did Nyjole think about the war? Well, he was too young to remember the past conflicts with Xagros, so he had no prior experience with large-scale conflict. To Nyjole, it sounded exciting, and most of him wanted to get up and get ready for battle. But somewhere in him, deep down, he wasn't sure. He was comfortable living in Magma Tunnels, he didn't have much responsibility, he had lots of time to pass away. War would probably change that...

Well, Nyjole was going to be one of the first to participate in this war. It all started when he heard, somewhere in the distance, some unknown voice cry out in anguish.

"Wah-huh?" Nyjole blurted, confused. The voice didn't register for a second. Then it hit him. It was Lustra. Everyone knew Lustra to be a calm voice of reason. Calm. If Lustra, elected overseer of the Litsilian forces, was upset enough to cry out that loudly, something serious must have happened. Nyjole, being as curious and bold as he was, tried to discern exactly where the sound came from. His wavy, yellow, rabbit-like ears made it pretty easy. Once Nyjole concluded which way Lustra must be, he hopped to his feet, and quickly darted through the labyrinth of pathways.

No sooner did Nyjole slide around a corner than he bumped into two other Elemen. One of them, a floating, orange ball with wings, was knocked out of the sky.

"Ow!" the orange Elemen cried, as he made a soft, satisfying thud, collapsing into Nyjole who, surprised, lost balance and toppled over backwards. The other Elemen barely skidded out of the way of the crash, just in time to have a geyser of lava shoot up in front of him. This startled him considerably, and he leaped back, tripping over the two others, landing beside them both. The pile of Elemen was not unlike a pile of laundry dumped unceremoniously onto the floor.

They unsteadily regained their balance, and composure. Nyjole recognized the orange fellow. It was Scorwa. Scorwa was an old friend who owned his own one-person enterprise, in which he bought unwanted goods from passers-by. He recycled the goods and sold them to stores across the island. The new Elemen had white wings, an aquamarine halo, and eyes that were almost perfectly square.

Scorwa was the first to speak. "What the heck was that all about?!" he cried.

The other Elemen offered a weak "hi…"

"Sorry, guys!" Nyjole said apologetically. "I guess I was kind of in a hurry."

Scorwa sighed. "What's the rush?"

"I thought I heard Lustra over that way." Nyjole pointed in some direction. "I think she was… crying. I wanted to see what the problem was."

Scorwa and the other Elemen exchanged looks.

"Did you hear anything, Farok?" asked Scorwa, addressing the white-winged Elemen.

"Nuh-uh!" replied Farok.

Figures. How on earth are you supposed to hear anything without ears? Sure you'd be able to pick up nearby sound waves, but having such a small circle of reception can be extremely impairing.

Nyjole scratched his ear inadvertently.

"Well, I heard it," Nyjole declared. "I'm going to see what's wrong!"

"Hey, wait! Can we come along too?" Farok pleaded.

"Yeah. I want to know what's going on," Scorwa added.

"Sounds like a plan! I'm perfectly happy to have company," Nyjole replied.

"Yay!" Farok cried. He did a backflip. Good for him. "I'm surrounded with friends! I haven' t been this happy since my birthday five months ago!"

"But not counting you, there's only two of us here," Scorwa pointed out.

"That's okay, I'm still happy!" Farok replied happily.

The rest of the journey was uneventful. Farok hummed an upbeat tune while Nyjole and Scorwa discussed nothing in particular. They had almost reached the chamber, when Farok noticed something roll speedily along the ground, and out of sight.

"What was that?" Nyjole said, slightly startled.

"What was what? I didn't see anything," Scorwa said. He was floating a meter above the ground, looking off to the left.

"I saw it, I saw it!" Farok exclaimed. "Something just rolled across the ground! I wonder where it's going?"

"Well, that's random enough," Scorwa commented.

"Let's go see where it went!" suggested Nyjole.

"You're really that easily distracted? Shouldn't we be going to see what's wrong with Lustra?" inquired Scorwa.

"Eh, in a minute," Nyjole said dismissively.

"I'll be the first one to catch it!" Farok yapped, bouncing carelessly in the direction the tiny object went.

"Whoa-oh!" cried Nyjole, caught off guard. He galloped after Farok. Scorwa sighed and followed the two.

Farok was now twirling, airborne, after the mysterious little object. Although it had been in Farok's field of vision for a good ammount of time, Farok still wasn't sure what it was. It wasn't exactly material, nor did it have a substantial form.

Nyjole wasn't far behind Farok. Scorwa drifted more casually, a considerable distance behind the other two.

The group passed through more corridors, weaving amidst the occasional residents, all of which were confused as to what in the world they were doing. After a couple turns, Scorwa got lost from the group.

"It's miiiine!" Farok squealed. He dived at it and was about to grab it. But just then, it swiveled around, and levitated, floating teen feet now into the air. There was a bright flash, and before the light receded, someone kicked Farok forcefully into the dull orange tunnel wall. Farok sprung back up momentarily. He looked like he was about to say something, but then his eyes re-adjusted, and he saw who the offending Elemen was.

"Huh…?" Farok's mind blanked. Nyjole, who had caught up with Farok, froze too.

The new arrival was staring down at them with its soulless lime-green eyes. Its crooked, satisfied smile was locked into its face. Its body was a deep gray, with a form identical to Litsil's, except for its foot. It had a spring-like foot that coiled around exactly three times.

"There you guys are!" Scorwa exclaimed, passing around a corner. "I couldn't find you anywhere, until I asked someone who—" Scorwa's sentence trailed off when he glanced at the conflicting figure…

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