As they flew over the area in which Horok Castle had just stood, the surrounding forest of carniverous orchids began to rapidly fade.

Atreyu turned his head to watch the strange sight of an entire landscape fading into white nothingness.

And then the even stranger sight of an entire land replacing the blankness. The replacement land, Atreyu recognized - and felt - was Salamander City, whose streets and inhabitants' bodies were of fire. Atreyu could feel the warmth even from his high flight.

'So it's not the Nothing,' Bastian whispered, sighing in relief.

That relief was quickly replaced with anxiety again as Bastian realized he was dealing with the unknown. He had no idea how to handle this. Had it been the Nothing . . . well, at least he'd had experience dealing with that before. As had Atreyu. As had all of Fantasia. But this . . . what was it?

The grandfather clock out in the living room chimed one.

On the horizon the Ivory Tower gleamed white against the gold-shimmering dawning sky. And as the pair approached it, it seemed as if the lush Labyrinth surrounding the Ivory Tower was alive with floating, moving stars. Nearing it further revealed the 'moving stars' to be white flags, carried each by the multitude of creatures swarming the greenery.

Atreyu bent over the furry, white, lion-like head of the luckdragon and said into his ear: 'Falkor I haven't brought a flag of truce.'

Falkor opened his great mouth and let forth a laugh that sounded like the ringing of a large bell. 'Atreyu, have you seen a grander flag of truce than your mount?' Another pell of laughter sounded.

Atreyu smiled. 'It is true. From down there you must seem an enormous rippling white pennant.'

Again the bronze bell rang. 'Shall I alight on the upper terrace?'

'No Falkor. We shall wait below with the rest of the messengers.'

The luckdragon changed his flight into a downward spiral, gracefully landing in one of the few empty spots in the otherwise creature-flooded Labyrinth.

Moments later an increasing whispering crowd gathered around the Greenskin and luckdragon. Eventually one gathered enough courage to step forward and address the pair.

'Are - hoo hoo - aren't you Atreyu?'

The Greenskin nodded politely to the night hob. 'I am.'

The night hob merely hooed in surprise, but the tiny beside him stepped up to Atreyu. 'The Atreyu who went on the Great Quest?'

Atreyu found it difficult to surpress his laughter and only allowed a small smile. 'The same.'

'They wait for you,' slowly cracked the rock biter beside the tiny.

'Who?'

'The council of healers.' Atreyu couldn't see the speaker of the new voice for a moment, until he realized the glowing sphere was not a candle flame, but a will-o'-the-wisp.

'Shall I lead you there?' the glowing creature asked.

'I mean no offence,' began Atreyu, 'but I worry at following a will-o'-the-wisp.'

'Hoo! This one is - hoo hoo - most trustworthy,' insisted the night hob.

'If it is all the same,' interrupted Falkor, 'we have been here before and can find our own way. Though we do offer our thanks at your offer.'

The four creatures nodded polietly and stepped back into the crowd.

'Climb on,' the luckdragon said.

'Falkor, I have no need for causing a spectacle.'

'My friend, you already have. Look around you.'

As the Greenskin did so, he saw that a path had cleared for him to High Street, the wide road which wound its way up the Ivory Tower.

'Hoo! Good luck on your new - hoo - Quest!' the night hob called out as the luckdragon and Greenskin proceeded down the road.

Many would have used the term 'fearless warrior' to describe Atreyu, however, neither of those words applied to the young hero.

'Warrior' would imply activity in a war of some sort. Atreyu - nor any of the plains people for that matter - had never been involved in a war. Greenskins were a brave, but peaceful people.

That was not exactly true, Bastian thought with reservation. But he was glad the war in which Atreyu and the Greenskins had been involved had been overlooked. He wished that it had been forgotten by all. That war - and all the situations involved - comprised of Bastian's most horrific creations. And most terrible actions.

'Fearless' was far from accurate as well, for without fear a hunter would take absurd risks and end up trampled by a purple buffalo stampeed. Contrarywise, a hunter who allowed fear to control their every move would find no victory in the Grassy Ocean. Atreyu had learned to keep his fears in reasonable check.

Coming from a mainly solitary life, the Greenskin found great crowds discomforting. Great crowds watching his every step . . . that Atreyu found frightening. But with little other option, the young man forced himself forward, foot before foot, his eyes unwavering from the Ivory Tower and his hand on Falkor's furry head for comfort.

It was strange, Atreyu thought, that each step seemed to bring them no closer to the center.

It was also odd that the thousands of creatures were entirely silent. It wasn't that he was offended they weren't cheering - that would have been even more uncomfortable - but that he had no idea what their silence was to mean. Did they not find him worthy of a second Quest? Had they been displeased by his preformance in the prior one? Were they merely jealous that he had once again been chosen by the Childlike Empress? Or were they simply dumbfounded with surprise?

Atreyu liked to think that the opinions of others mattered little to him, but when the 'others' equalled thousands and their opinions seemed unanimous, he couldn't help but to wonder. And there the two stood before the long, spiraling ivory road.

'Is it enchantment?' he asked in hushed tones.

'Is what enchantment?' the luckdragon whispered back.

'The Ivory Tower seemed a day's gallop away when I was watching it. But when I was thinking of other things, it appeared before us.'

Falkor merely chuckled for a moment before saying, 'It is only that your attention was elsewhere, my friend. There is a common proverb amoung the luckdragons: "A watched egg never hatches".'

The companions began their long acention up High Road, which - at this point - was entirely new to them both. On their prior visit, being tired and weak, they decided to land on the uppermost terrace. The miles-long spiral took the two around an amazingly enormous city built level-atop-level, all constructed from gleaming white ivory.

'In all my flights across our masive Empire, I have never seen anything so beautiful.'

Atreyu marveled at Falkor's uncharacteristically reverent tone, but could only nod in agreement. The splendor could not be described. This was one of those rare occasions wherein a thing of beauty seen from afar was even more exquisite up close.

Bastian rolled onto his back and placed his index fingers on his temples. He was extremely confused. It seemed Atreyu and Falkor didn't remember the atrocities Bastian had committed. They had been there atop the Ivory Tower.

Bastian had slain Atreyu atop the Ivory Tower. Well, not exactly 'slain', Bastian realized, since Atreyu lived still. But certainly 'mortally wounded'. How could Atreyu not remember that? Or perhaps the Greenskin merely didn't remember climbing High Street?

Which was another matter altogether. After plunging the sword into Atreyu's heart, the Ivory Tower had caught fire on Bastian's behalf. It had burned to ashes. How was it that it now stood as if it had never seen flames? Could it have been rebuilt within the decade?

Bastian selfishly wished Atreyu and everyone else had forgotten the atrocities . . . regardless of the gravity of that implication.

'I wonder if anyone has ever succeeded in counting all the steps?' the Greenskin wondered aloud.

'I have heard it said that he who counts all the steps of High Road is rewarded with admitance into Magnolia Pavilion,' said Falkor wistfully.

Atreyu's eyes narrowed. 'The Greenskins say that he who counts the steps of High Road will never see the Childlike Empress.'

'That's- unusual.' Falkor's ruby red eyes narrowed as well. 'Do the Greenskins say why?'

'Because he who spends his time counting loses his purpose in the math.'

'Hm.' The luckdragon paused for a moment in thought. 'While I can see the logic in that, I choose to hope that he who commits himself to the arduous task will be rewarded.'

Atreyu shrugged his shoulders and said: 'You are free to believe as you choose.'

Falkor nodded his large lion-like head. 'It is the variety of beliefs that make Fantasia so interestingly varried.'

Atreyu sighed and stroked the luckdragon's main. He'd worried for a moment there that their difference of beliefs would create an unbridgable rift, but he was glad to see that their friendship was too strong to be so easily unraveled.

'Amazing how many people are here this time,' Falkor remarked.

Atreyu had been awestruck by it as well. Not only was High Street flooded with messengers from all provinces of Fantasia, but also those that made the Ivory Tower their home. Those lucky ones that lived in the Ivory Tower consisted of the Childlike Empress' gardners, caretakers, nursemaids, chambermaids, storytellers, bards, puppeteers, actors,jesters, tumblers, contortionists, tight rope walkers, magicians, wise women, seers, wizards, healers, tailors, shoemakers, cooks, and watchmen. And all their individual families.

Really, Atreyu thought, the Ivory Tower was more of a city spiraling into the sky.

As the ribbons of orange and red in the sky faded to midnight blue, the two friends began passing through the gates of the upper terraces.

'Atreyu?' a small, high voice asked.

Atreyu turned about to find an infant wearing physician scrubs standing before a large open double-doorway.

'Please follow me,' the infant raised his little arm and pointed through the doorway. 'This way, please.'

The infant walked through the doorway with suprising grace. Atreyu and Falkor trailed behind, and found themselves entering the large circular throne room packed full with every species of Fantasian imaginable, all speaking with one another in High Fantasian. Atreyu had spent so long speaking only in the tongue of the Greenskins that it seemed remarkable to hear so many different races speak the universal language.

A hush came over the varried medical congress as Atreyu made his way to the back of the room where the infant awaited him.

'My medical colleagues and myself have summoned you here, Atreyu, on behalf of the Childlike Empress.'

Atreyu might have found those words comical coming from an infant had the baby's face and voice not been so grave and the message not so frightening.

'I have not been summoned,' Atreyu began. 'I came because my home-'

'But we have summoned you,' insisted the infant. 'Did you not encounter our messenger?'

Atreyu shook his head 'no'.

The council gasped and grumbled. 'Was it Cairon?' Atreyu asked, remembering the centaur who had come to his home a decade ago, setting the then-boy out on his Great Quest. It would have been nice to see the fellow again, Atreyu thought.

The baby eyed the Greenskin in wonder. 'None of us have seen the master Healer since he departed our last congress to seek you out. We have always wondered where he went to after meeting with you.'

Strange, Atreyu thought, that this hopeful look on the baby's face was the first expression that seemed congruent with his appearance. It was unfortunate he would have to disappoint the infant.

Atreyu frowned and said, 'He did not speak of his travel intents with me before I left. And when I returned to the Grassy Ocean he had long since left. It never occured to me to ask my people whereto Cairon left. And I no longer can ask them.'

The assembly made little sound, but their sorrow was almost audible.

'It seems we may have lost two of our greatest healers,' the infant said, hanging his round head. 'I suppose I shall have to take up the responsabilities, being next in line.'

'You may have lost neither,' Atreyu said, trying to sound hopeful. 'Perhaps Cairon has found joy elsewhere and remains there still.' The Greenskin spoke that to the assembly, and the following as well: 'And perhaps your last healer is returning still. He may still be seeking me, for he would not have found me within the Grassy Ocean. I have been away for some time. Indeed,' it was Atreyu's turn to look downcast, 'he might not have found the Grassy Ocean at all. My homeland has vanished from existance, along with all my people.'

The infant patted the young man's leg. 'I understand your pain, my boy. My homeland and people have similarly disappeared. Which hurts greatly though I have not been home for many, many years.'

' "Many years"?' Atreyu quoted in question. 'But you're so-'

'Sassafranian,' the infant explained.

Atreyu had been to the broad plateau of the Sassafranians before and knew these curious beings began life looking like ancient adults and died looking as newborns. This poor fellow, Atreyu thought, clearly had little time left.

'I am sorry that I failed to introduce myself.' The Sassafranian held forth his small, fat hand. 'Papriky of the Plateau of Sassafran.'

Atreyu took the tiny hand and gently shook it, saying, 'I am Atreyu of the Grassy Ocean.'

Papriky's knowing smile seemed strange coming from the face of a baby, even though Atreyu now knew he was a Sassafranian. 'We know who you are, Atreyu. Your fame preceeds you.'

Atreyu could feel the council beaming behind him.

'We are aware of your prior Quest. We stand before you now offering a new quest.'

'Is the Childlike Empress once again ill? Atreyu's voice was urgent with the spoken thought that had only just then occured to him.

Papriky looked into the crowd, as if gaining a consensus. 'Yes. But no. She seems to be in perfect health, displaying no symptoms of sickness whatsoever. Only . . . only she is suffering from some form of mental illness. Progressive amnesia, perhaps. But . . . Or . . . Well, we are not certain. All that is certain is that places and people are vanishing from existance, and when they vanish . . . even the Childlike Empress has no memory of their ever having existed.'

'Would you have me seek the nature of her cure?' Atreyu asked.

'Oh, we know the nature of her cure,' Papriky said hurridly. 'Rather, we think we do. The Childlike Empress is in need of a new name.'

'A new name?' Atreyu repeated in confusion. 'But she has received one not long ago.'

Papriky nodded his tiny head. 'Even more recently than some might remember. But it seems that this is what is needed. You see, no-one can remember her name.'

'But that is absurd!' Atreyu shouted defiently. 'Her name is . . . It is . . .' The Greenskin's face contorted in frustration, which transformed into irate annoyance.

'Yes,' the Sassafranian nodded in understanding. 'None of us can remember. That is why we need you to find her a new name.'

'But only a human can gift the Childlike Empress with a name.'

Papriky tilted his head and nodded. 'Yes?'

'And no Fantasian can travel to the human world. Our Empire is without boundries.' Atreyu and Falkor had together learned that the hard way during their Great Quest. 'I cannot go to the human world.'

'There is no need.'

'But then how . . . ?'

'The human is already here.'

Atreyu's brow seemed to leap inches. 'Where?'

'Here in Fantasia.'

'But where.'

Papriky shrugged his baby shoulders. 'That is what why we sent for you: to find the human and beseach a new name for the Childlike Empress.'

'Fantasia is vast,' the Greenskin said, exasperated. 'How am I to know where to look?'

'We have no way of knowing,' Papriky said wagging his head and shrugging his shoulders. 'But the choice is your own. You need not accept this quest if you would rather not.'

'Of course I accept it!' Atreyu's tone was angered from insult to his pride.

'We would offer the Gem, but the Glory is not ours to give,' began Papriky. 'The Childlike Empress herself would surely have gifted it to you again had she not already passed it along to the Saviour. That is how you shall recognize the human,' explained the Sassafranian, 'for the Saviour shall bear AURYN.' Atreyu smiled. 'I wouldn't need to see him wearing AURYN to recognize Bastian.'

'But I'm not there, Atreyu,' Bastian whispered into the book.

Just then his stomach growled and Bastian thought longingly of food, realizing it was nearing two o'clock in the afternoon and he had yet to eat that day. But he was too engrossed in what was happening in the book to leave it for a quick snack, so Bastian ignored the protest from his stomach and continued reading.

'Bastian?' Papriky was clearly confused.

'The Saviour,' Atreyu said in a tone which expressed his frustration.

'But I was under the impression the Saviour's name was . . . I cannot remember what I thought it was.'

Atreyu narrowed his eyes.

'Regardless,' Papriky said, shaking his cherubic head, 'we wish you expedient success in your quest for finding the Saviour.'

Atreyu knew a dismissal when he heard one. Not knowing what to say without sounding pretentious, he merely bowed to the infant and turned to the double-door, feeling all their eyes on him. And as he walked the length of the room to the exit, Atreyu realized he had no idea at all where to look to find Bastian. The vast Empire was rapidly vanishing bit by bit. Would Atreyu find Bastian in time, or would Fantasia completely disappear before the Saviour could be found?

Falkor's face was a welcome sight, granting a bit of hope the moment Atreyu saw it, departing the throne room.

Chapter Four: The Winged Companions