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Awakening Magic

Summary:

When she woke, Terra found herself in the midst of an ever-growing struggle between a dictator determined for world domination and a rebellion seeking peace. The Empire wants her back. The Returners need her help. No longer under the control of the slave crown, she tries to find answers for the many questions clouding the future. How is the Empire conquering kingdoms so easily? What can the Returners do to prevent more bloodshed? And why was Terra born with the gift of magic?

Notes:

12/03/23: I've made a few changes to this retelling/novelization of FFVI. Firstly, I decided a title change was due because my original title won't make sense until the very end of the story. Secondly, I decided to make this into a series of five "books!" And the series name is Looking Down From Cerulean Skies. I am following the events and plot points in the game while adding my own spin to everything.
Why did I decide to make these changes? My beta-reader and I were talking about how I should handle this massive story while I was working on my outline one day and she came up with the idea, making the point that it'll help things stay organized (for my sanity.) Also, splitting it up into separate "books" will help reflect the point of view shifts more effectively.
So yeah! If you're curious about how these are broken down into separate big fics, just think about the major plot points in the game and you'll be able to figure it out ;D I don't want to spoil it more than that!
Thank you all for reading, and I hope you all enjoy!

Chapter 1: The Raid of Narshe

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Narshe, a sleepy coal mining town tucked into the mountains above the Figaroan kingdom, was preparing for the oncoming night ahead. Men wrapped themselves up in their uniforms, with furs and wool scarves draped around their heads to keep themselves warm. Shopkeepers struck matches to light their gas lamps outside their shops, pulled their shutters closed, and locked up for the night. Snow blew down from the mountains in a constant gust, sweeping over the buildings, and swirling in the streets. The citizens of Narshe had grown accustomed to the ever-present chill and frost, and those new to the town quickly adapted since the temperatures dropped drastically at night to well below freezing.

"Gods dammit! Why did we have to go somewhere so damn cold?" a man cried from his seat inside the hulking contraption he piloted. His teeth would not stop chattering no matter how hard he tried to control it. The thick cloak he had wrapped around himself like a blanket wasn’t helping him get warm at all.

"We’ve got to follow our orders, Wedge. The Emperor would be furious if we disobeyed." His companion replied with a pointed look. “Just think about how much of an opportunity this is for you to get promoted. You might get to join the Knights after this mission.”

"I know that sir, but why couldn't that frozen esper have been dug up in a warm place? Like Jidoor?"

"Oh, I don't know. Perhaps frozen things are only found in cold climates?" The higher-ranking soldier glared and pulled the bulletproof glass visor lower on his cockpit to help block the never-ending assault from the snowstorm. His gloved hands were shaking. "And Jidoor doesn't even have a coal mine."

"Fine. So, what’s next?" Wedge asked, shivering in his uniform, disregarding his superior's logic, and wishing the weapons developers could have installed heaters in the Magitek Armor.

"We go into the mines beyond the town and take the frozen esper," Vicks pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and squinted at the horizon.

On their ledge, they could see Narshe rather well. The gas lights lining the cobblestone streets looked like stars twinkling in the night. Vicks looked back at the woman accompanying them. Her blank stare reminded him of a doll. A surge of unease ricocheted through his spine as her eyes moved to him for a split second.

"How big do you think it is? I hope we can carry it back to the ship," Wedge looked from Vicks to the woman.

"Well, it can't be too big, otherwise the Emperor would have sent a crane or some other type of Tek." Vicks patted his control panel with a grin in an attempt to drive away the unease in his chest, "Magitek Armor can lift more than you think, so we should be fine."

"Alright, alright! Let's get going," Wedge grimaced and took the lead with a lurch of his armor and a few mutters about how he wished he could feel his toes again.

The woman followed him wordlessly, moving her Armor with a certain grace.

Vicks looked up at the sky, at the fresh dark clouds coming in from the mountains like ink spreading in water, "You can't even see the moon for the storm clouds."

Up ahead, Wedge was trying to start a conversation with the young woman.

"So, why are you coming with us?" he asked, rubbing his hands together to create friction while he steered his Magitek Armor with his knee.

"I was ordered to," she replied in a monotonous soft voice that could hardly be heard over the wind, not glancing over at him.

“How dangerous did Kefka tell you this mission would be?”

She didn’t respond. Her eyes remained fixed on their trek to the town.

"Okay, well, what's that thing on your head?" he asked, pointing at the flecked jewels that caught the fading light from between locks of mint green hair on her brow.

"I do not know what you are speaking of," The woman turned her head a fraction in his direction.

Vicks came up next to Wedge, "That's a slave crown Cid's been developing. I know that you're a lower rung on the ladder, but I thought you'd know that at least."

"A what?" Wedge quirked his eyebrows, not even bothering to disguise his confusion.

"A slave crown. It's a device that rips away the wearer's free will and makes them follow any orders given. I don't know much more than that, but that's what Kefka told me during the briefing. She will follow any of our orders."

"But she's the Imperial Witch, right? Shouldn't that mean that she's powerful enough to fight back? I mean, from what I've heard…" Wedge trailed off, his eyes moving to the thin woman pressing buttons on her control panel, not even shivering despite her sleeveless dress.

"She can't fight it, you idiot! That's the point of the slave crown, to have complete control over a person. Can you imagine what would happen if she didn't have that thing on her? She could torch the entire Empire and kill everybody." Vicks didn’t let his gaze settle on the Witch as he spoke. Instead, he let it linger on the buildings that were much easier to see by then.

Wedge looked at the Witch again as if trying to make sure that she was not about to rear back and attack them like a rabid monster, "So the rumors are true!"

Vicks let out a sigh, “Why would anybody lie about such a thing?” With a shake of his head, he finally looked at the Witch. The rumors made his stomach churn.

Her green hair curled like lamb's wool, and her pale skin hinted at how little sunlight she had seen, now rosy from the cold.

Despite her being the dangerous Imperial Witch with the blank eyes of a doll, she was a pretty woman. She shouldn’t be a soldier. The draft for the Imperial military didn’t apply to women. She should be enjoying her youth and courting young men.

The group neared the gates of Narshe steadily. Vicks and Wedge both scanned the perimeters for any guns trained at their heads or ambushes coming down from the treeline on either side of the town. The wind howled fiercely in their ears and the heavy footfalls of their Magitek Armor echoed into the night.

A man shrouded in scarves and furs was leaning against the front window of a building outside the gates with a book in hand. His head snapped up at the approaching sound of heavy metal footfalls and scrambled inside. When the door slammed shut, Wedge read what the sign hanging above the door said as they passed it by.

"The library is outside of the town? Strange," he commented, scrunching his eyebrows together in thought.

Narshe guards stood at attention just inside the city gates with their rifles resting against their shoulders, all gaping at the oncoming small division of Magitek Armor. One guard in a darker uniform stepped forward from the group, shouting, "What in goddess's name are Imperial troops doing here?"

"Don't answer any questions. Dispose of interlopers. We have a job to do," Vicks told his comrades as they approached the gates.

Wedge nodded and pressed forward, earning a bullet in the hull of his armor. It pinged off, not even making a dent as he rushed the guards. His hands flew over his control panel and his Tek quickened its pace and snapped shut the glass dome over his head.

"Stop this at once!" The leader of the guards demanded, firing another round of bullets at the oncoming machine.

"Narshe is neutral, you pig!" Another guard shouted as he aimed his gun.

The Narshe men swung their spears and shot their guns, trying with all their might to hold off the Imperial soldier. None of their attacks did any damage, and upon realizing this, they were being gunned down by a fire beam.

The tang of burning flesh filled the air, making Vicks wince as he reached the bloody smears on the cobblestones. Small pieces of sinew, gore, and other unpleasant things were scattered across the entrance from where the guards were blasted.

The echo of a scream lingered in the frigid night air, sending chills dancing up and down their spines. Somehow, no matter how long one had been in the military, the sound of death was still unnerving in its finality.

Going north through the streets of Narshe, the party encountered more guards, who all protested their arrival, all trying to fight for their town, all dying painfully.

Vicks and Wedge watched as their companion in arms became the killing machine that Kefka had claimed her to be. The Witch cast spell after spell at the Narshe guards, never ceasing in her assault. She fired her Tek missiles without emotion, lay waste to lives with her charged-up energy beams, and crushed bodies underneath her Magitek Armor.

Luckily for the town, she only attacked those who provoked her. She could have easily leveled the place.

The voices of the men who had died lingered in Vicks' and Wedge's minds, humming low and eventually sounding like white noise coming from a malfunctioning radio.

"Not even Narshe is safe anymore!"

"Please! Stop this! We haven't done a thing to the Empire!"

"You Imperial scum! We will not end up like Tzen!"

"The Empire is full of monsters!"

They reached the mines at long last and found only one opening at the end of a long series of wooden stairs littered with mining tools. Flurries of snow rushed inside the cavern from the strong winds and disappeared into the darkness. What with the abandoned mining materials, rusty hooks knocked crooked that once held pickaxes and torches long blown out, the mine appeared all the more menacing.

Wedge swallowed hard, staring into the depths, and asked, "Sir, do you think that this is the correct mineshaft?"

"I'm not sure, Wedge, but it looks like it’s our only option. Our informant told us that the creature was found in a new mineshaft. Do you see any other caves around here? I don't." Vicks gestured around them at the absence of any other mineshafts in the immediate area.

"Maybe we should have the Witch lead us inside," Wedge suggested, pulling at his cloak to wrap it tighter around himself.

"Alright, she'll be put on point," Vicks made a motion forward with his hand to the woman, who promptly pulled ahead of the men, waiting for another signal.

"Okay, let's get this over with!" Wedge tried sounding enthusiastic and followed the sorceress inside.

Vicks’ heartbeat quickened as if his body sensed something he did not. He chalked it up to anxiety of the unknown, and punched a few buttons on his control panel, making his armor stomp inside the cavern.

"Dammit! The torches are out! Does anybody have a light?" Wedge asked examining a burnt-out torch while fingering his empty pockets as if a match would magically appear. Vicks shook his head after checking his pouches and the storage box near his feet, only finding medical supplies and some rations. They both looked to the Witch who had been staring blankly at them, awaiting more commands.

"Do you think you could cast a fire spell on this?" Wedge asked, lifting the glass shield over his head and grabbing a torch to hold out to her. She blinked slowly, as if processing the request, and held her left hand out to touch it. Then, a flame appeared in her palm, brilliantly orange and crackling, and caught the wood. As soon as the torch had a nice blaze burning, her spell went out with a puff of smoke.

Wedge smiled at her before he started lighting the torches on the rock walls, watching the cavern gradually grow brighter with flickering warm light. Shadows appeared, bobbing, and flitting across the rock flooring, casting strange and obscure shapes throughout the mineshaft.

Now that the group could see where they were treading, the Witch led them through a few short caves that were so narrow that they had to pass through in a line. Rats skittered across the ground, escaping the metallic footfalls and hiding themselves inside little nooks and crannies to chatter at the odd trespassers who were disturbing their peaceful home.

At the end of a long passage, there was a wooden gate barricading the next section of the mine. On the barricade were many complicated locks and gadgets to prevent intruders from getting into the next section.

"This must be where they're storing the creature," Vicks commented, inspecting the barrier for any locks that he recognized.

"Yeah, I've got an idea. You two move back!" Wedge instructed with a grin on his face. His companions did as he asked, and he moved his Tek away from the gate a bit, then rushed it, bashing the wooden planks to splinters from the force.

"Nice work," Vicks said, coming to stand beside his comrade.

"No problem! Like a measly fence could keep us out."

As the soldiers were going into the next room, a Narshe guard dashed out from behind a stone pillar roughly cut out of the bedrock.

"Stop right there! You aren't getting the esper that easily!" he yelled, brandishing his spear at the intruders.

"Move outta the way, or we'll go through you!" Wedge threatened.

The guard yanked a whistle out of his scarf and blew it. The piercing sound echoed shrilly off the cave walls.

Then, an enormous pale-yellow snail with mean red eyes at the top of its eyestalks slithered its way toward them at a pace that was much faster than common snails.

"Whelk! Defend the esper! Defend Narshe's pride!" the guard shouted as he ran out of the passage to get out of the way, and possibly alert the town elder of having to use their last defense.

"Shit! The asshole ran off!" Vicks cursed, realizing that they may have even more guardsmen after them now.

"I think we have something more important to worry about!" Wedge shouted, pushing buttons on his control panel furiously.

Vicks turned his Tek towards the retreating guard and fired a bolt beam at him. The beam struck and the guard fell with a heavy thump on the ground, smoking.

"At least we don't have to worry about him now." Vicks returned his attention to the giant snail monster right as Wedge sent a fire beam at it.

The overgrown snail roared, eyes glowing more as it continued to slime its way closer, unperturbed by the attack.

"What's with this thing anyway? A giant snail? What will towns use next to protect them? Caterpillars?"

"This is the monster Kefka and Leo briefed us about, remember?" Vicks yelled over the snarling creature.

Wedge shot another fire beam at the monster, "A creature that eats lightning, right?"

"Yeah! And it stores the energy in its shell, so don't hit that part, alright soldiers?"

The Imperial Witch fired a Tek missile at the snail, and Wedge gave a quick nod, before shooting another fire beam at it. The Whelk slammed itself into Vick's Magitek Armor, almost hurling the machine over backward. As Vicks righted himself, he was astounded at how fluidly the Witch could maneuver her armor. She had the precision of a machine as her hands flew over the buttons and levers.

The Witch shot missiles over and over at the snail, never letting up, and finally, with one more energy beam, the creature exploded. Yellow ooze splashed onto their Armors and dripped from the walls with shattered pieces of its shell skewed about.

"Ugh! Gross! Look at this!" Wedge cried, trying to fling goo off of his arm.

"Forget that. You can get a bath back on the ship. Let's get the esper and get out of here," Vicks said, going past the despairing man, ignoring the fact that pungent snail slime was dripping from his helmet and face.

By the time Vicks and Wedge reached the shard, they saw that the Witch was already there, standing in front of the ice, staring intently at the chilling creature.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Vicks asked, looking first at the Witch, then up at the being. It had the body of a large tropical bird, whose feathers were long, silky, and colorful. Its eyes were black and unmoving, but a look of terror was filling its expression, as if it had tried to escape, fleeing from something terrible in flight, but was caught in ice.

It was like a snapshot of the past, an old fossil drug up from the planet's crust, the emotion in its expression crystalline.

Wedge came up on the other side of the Witch. Now all three were looking up at the esper.

The Witch climbed down from her armor, and stepped closer, as if in a trance.

"What are you doing?" Vicks asked again but received no response. The strange feeling inside of him grew, consuming his thoughts, and making fear rise in his throat.

"Hey! You know something, don't you?" Wedge asked, trying to grab at the Witch to keep her from approaching the esper.

She started glowing with a strange blue light. Then they saw that the creature started glowing at the same time as her, flashing a bright blue light that resembled lightning out from the core of the ice.

As her fingers touched the surface, a spark of lightning fluttered out of the creature and into her head, causing her to release a pained moan. She did not fall; instead, she wrapped her arms around what she could of the ice and pressed herself against it.

Then, lightning welled up again, and flashed into Wedge, blinking him out of existence.

"Wedge? Where did you go? What's happening?" Vicks screamed, clutching his head tightly, his heart beating frantically. Another bolt of lightning sparked and came at him faster than he could even think to move.

"Some people aren’t meant to live long."

"..."

"Child, it seems that something is preventing you from speaking to me properly. But that is alright. I shall see you again...soon. I promise."

She looked up at the esper's eyes and saw that they were looking back, blinking. Speaking to her.

"You're too weak for me now, but you will return to me soon. You're very special."

Another bolt of lightning shot out of the ice shard and struck her between her bright green eyes, hitting the slave crown, and then destroying her Magitek armor.

The bolt flitted up and down her body, knocking her back onto the frigid ground below the esper.

Her mind blanked out, her body convulsed, and for the first time in ages, she dreamed.

Notes:

Hello and welcome to my spin on a Final Fantasy 6 novelization! I initially started writing one back in like 2011-2012-ish on ff. net but scrapped it because golly I didn't plan that out at all. So here we are! I'm approaching this as an actual novelization instead of a game text to fanfic thing so we can see the scenes in between points in the game and to make silly 90's video game logic make sense as a story. I hope this was a fun read and let me know what you think! (And if I missed any mistakes of course! Things can always slip through the cracks while editing.)
Update 11/7/23: I did a few revisions to this chapter, just fixing wording and the like since this was first published in 2014. I've been working away on the newest chapters and thought it would be a good idea to clean this chapter up a bit!

Chapter 2: Awakening

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The screams and gunshots were heard throughout Narshe. The sounds filled the citizens with a chilling fear that their town would finally be destroyed.

But when the rumbling footfalls retreated in the direction of the mines north of town, and no buildings were crushed, many townspeople ventured out of their homes to investigate the invasion. The men were armed with their best hunting rifles and were quite jumpy when they heard anything that sounded like an explosion coming from the mines.

One middle-aged man named Arvis stuck to his windowpanes with his small spyglass to survey the scene. He saw his fellow townspeople draw back when they came across the bodies near the town gates. He cringed when the general store owner turned away from the mess with a greenish hue on his face.

After an hour of watching and waiting, Arvis saw that the Imperials in their foreboding oversized suits of armor had not left the coal mining town. There was only one way out of the mines as of late, and unless the Imperials blasted holes in the side of the mountain to get out, they were still in the mines.

Something was keeping them and judging from how easily and swiftly they entered Narshe, they should have returned to town by then.

Arvis was resolute and went into his kitchen to grab his woolen coat and scarf. He slipped his spyglass into a pocket along with the black knife he used for hunting. He went out the backdoor to avoid any unwanted eyes and climbed carefully down the wooden and stone platform behind the shop next door. His feet touched down behind one of the big brass and copper boilers that kept the town warm, and with a peek around the wheezing machine, Arvis was satisfied to set off into the mines.

He followed the carved-out path of artificial steps and dodged the support beams jutting out of the rock walls from other mined-out caverns and found that the large footsteps left by the Magitek Armor in the snow went into the newest mineshaft at the end of the path.

Arvis hadn’t been able to see the oddity the miners had unearthed because they cut off access to the public, and the prospect of seeing the rumored fossil made his heart pound like a hammer on a damp cloth.

The mine was dimly lit by a few torches that threatened to snuff out at any time. Arvis picked his way along due to the tools that lay abandoned on the cave floor. He continued deeper into the mineshaft, avoiding the rats the best he could, and came to what was once a wooden gate.

Splintered wood lay on the ground. It was becoming harder for him to see, but he heard the wood crunch under his boots. Farther along, he felt his boot slide on some sort of squishy substance.

"What on earth?" he wondered out loud to himself, squinting at the ground. He could barely make out slime left by something as he steadied himself from falling.

Frowning, he looked ahead, hoping to see a sign of life. Instead, he saw the esper encased in ice. It glowed softly, putting out some light to see by.

Arvis could not take his eyes away from the being as he approached. It was unlike anything he had ever seen before, let alone anything he could imagine. It was drawing him in, telling something inside him to come closer. His nose burned from the cold and something else that he couldn't quite put his finger on.

Look down.

He did and saw a young woman with a strange hair color shivering and unconscious on the ground just one step away.

"Oh! I almost stepped on you!" he exhaled, flustered from the strangeness of the situation. Without thinking, Arvis picked up the young woman, spotted a travel pack that matched her dress nearby, and with a last long look at the frozen esper, he hurried back to his house.

Once home, he stamped his feet on the mat and carried her to his bed.

He laid her down on the mattress gently, being careful not to wake her with a start, and sat her bag on the floor near the bed.

"How extraordinary it is that you have green hair!" he chuckled, wondering aloud if it was dyed.

She didn’t let out a single noise of protest as he tucked her in. Her body shivered for a few minutes before it finally relaxed, and the redness of her nose and cheeks diminished. Her head drooped over on its side on the feather pillows, and something caught Arvis's eye.

It was shiny, with jewels that smoldered in the candlelight.

"What's this?" he touched the circlet tenderly, afraid he would break it if he handled it too rough.

"This cannot be comfortable to wear in bed," he said, deciding to slip it off for her. He removed the crown easily enough and sat it on the bedside table next to the candlesticks.

Something in his mind clicked; he knew what the crown was. A sickening feeling washed over him, and he swore under his breath. Arvis looked over at the accessory and saw that it seemed to grow more menacing the longer he looked at it.

A groan came from her mouth, along with a grimace as she adjusted herself in her sleep. Arvis touched her forehead lightly but retracted it with a jerk. His hand felt like he just stuck it on a boiling tea kettle.

"What on earth?" Arvis knelt next to her and saw that her skin had drained of color but no drops of sweat beaded on her face.

Arvis jumped to his feet and went quickly to his writing desk in the living room. He unlocked it and started shuffling through papers until the letter he was looking for came into view. The letters were scrawled on the page in a mess of tangles and loops and confirmed his suspicions.

"Arcell saw the woman we heard about from our contact in Albrook. She torched fifty Imperial soldiers within minutes under General Kefka's command."

The woman lying in Arvis's bed had created a massacre of her fellow soldiers. She was the weapon that Gestahl had been keeping under lock and key.

Arvis went to brew some tea in the kitchen. She would need it when she woke up. He set out a pair of mugs on the kitchen table, all the while chuckling to himself. He was keeping an Imperial in his house, and he was going to offer her a cup of tea no less! Banon would laugh about it when he found out. But opportunities like this do not come along very often, and he must grab at them when he can.

"Excuse me, but where am I?" a soft whispery voice asked from behind Arvis, startling him and he nearly dropped the sugar bowl on the hardwood floor. The young woman stood in the doorway, eyes wide with fright and confusion as they darted from Arvis to objects around the room.

"Oh, you're finally awake!" Arvis smiled.

He gestured to a chair at the table, "Please sit. I'm making some tea for us."

She moved stiffly with her arms wrapped around herself and sat down. Arvis poured the tea for them both and set a big steaming mug down in front of her.

"To answer your question, you are in the coal mining town called Narshe. My name is Arvis, and I found you in the mines unconscious." Arvis stirred some cream into his cup and tasted it with a spoon.

Her eyebrows knit together as she stared down at her mug without making a move to drink any of it.

"Do you know how I got here?" she cast her green eyes up to his face expectantly. She wanted to ask more, like why she woke up in his house, why her head hurt so badly, and most of all; she wanted to know why she couldn't recall a single thing from before she woke up.

"Do you not remember anything?" Arvis countered, his eyebrows rising. He didn’t know what had happened in the mines, but it must have been pretty bad to affect her memory. Or perhaps her memory loss was a side effect of the slave crown.

She shook her head slowly but stopped after a moment, a look of realization appeared on her face.

"My name! I remember my name, it’s Terra," she replied, her voice rising in volume slightly in her excitement.

"That's a wonderful name, Terra! I've never heard of somebody with amnesia recalling their name so quickly. You must be made of tougher stuff than most."

Terra smiled at him and ventured a sip of the tea. It had a smooth flavor, and almost immediately she knew what kind it was and that she liked it with cream and sugar.

"This is Figaroan black tea, isn't it?" she gingerly picked up the cream bowl and spooned some into her mug. Her back ached when she extended her arm, so she tried to move in such a way as to avoid making her hands shake from the pain.

"Indeed, it is. My, you seem to be recovering pretty quickly." He pushed the sugar bowl towards Terra as she was reaching for it and stood from his seat.

"I think a bit of food is in order now. I bet you're famished, huh?"

Terra nodded more vigorously than she meant to as Arvis went to the pantry and withdrew a loaf of bread.

Along with the bread he put out a pat of fresh butter, a jar of jam, and a hunk of white cheese on the table near Terra. He sliced her a few pieces of the bread and left her to eat as much as she pleased while he went into the other room.

He scribbled a few lines onto a sheet of paper explaining what had happened and tied it up neatly so he could send it off with a carrier pigeon once the coast was clear of guards and inquiring eyes. Arvis peeked out of one of the front windows and saw sentries going from house to house.

"So, they finally caught on…" Arvis sighed and walked back to the bedroom to retrieve Terra's bag and the slave crown. While he was at it, he pulled the hunting knife from his pocket and got the light shield from the wall where it hung. He tied the shield to the bag with a firm knot.

When he returned to the kitchen, Terra was spreading butter on another piece of bread and cut herself some cheese to go on top. As she chewed, her eyes followed Arvis as he went to his cupboards and pantries and stuffed food into a mauve travel bag.

"What are you doing?" she asked and instantly wished that she hadn't been so nosy. She wasn't exactly sure why she thought that it would be nosy to ask such a thing and took note to figure out why when she had the chance.

Arvis tucked some bread and apples in wax paper before putting them in the bag, "After you finish eating, you've got to leave. The guards are coming for you I'm afraid."

"What?"

"I don't have much time to explain, but you'll be okay. I'm sending a good friend of mine after you to keep you safe." Arvis sat the pack down on the table next to Terra's plate.

"But why are the guards after me? Did I steal something? Do I not have permission to be in this town?" she forgot all about her food and stood on shaky legs, frightened at the prospect of being taken prisoner.

Arvis showed her the slave crown. At first, she merely looked at it curiously, and even reached out to touch it, but withdrew her hand quickly as if she had been stung. Pain rushed into her sinuses and a cold voice floated into her mind. It made her want to run, cry, vomit, anything but be near that crown, and for the life of her, she had no idea why.

"This is a slave crown, Terra. You were an Imperial soldier for Emperor Gestahl, and he was using this crown to control you completely," Arvis put the crown on the counter and patted Terra's arm. She shrugged away, not wanting to be touched. She simply could not stop shaking.

From the front door came a sequence of hard knocks on the wood, "We know you're home, Arvis! Give us the Witch now! She's an officer of the Empire and we need to take her into custody!"

Terra's head jerked in the direction of the door and cringed back. Everything was happening too fast. Tears threatened to fall down her cheeks.

Arvis swore under his breath, "We gotta get you out of here earlier than I thought, Terra." He gave her a glass bottle filled with water and helped her put her pack on her slim shoulders. He pulled her into the bedroom and instructed her to put her boots on while he found a cloak to protect her from the snowy weather outside. Once the cloak was fastened in place and with a knife in hand, Arvis sent her out the backdoor.

"I'll keep these guards busy while you escape! Make your way through the mines. My friend will be along soon!" and with that, Terra was left alone in the alley behind Arvis's house deeply confused and frightened.

Terra staggered on the uneven ground, her boots slipping on the icy path as she took a step. She blinked hard to adjust her vision in the dark alley.

"What did I do?" she wondered, putting a hand against the side of Arvis's house to keep her balance as she walked to the bridge at the end of the backstreet. Arvis hadn't told her much of anything other than she was being pursued. What had she done to these people to elicit such a violent and fervent response?

Her cloak, however warm it was being made of wool, was not enough to keep her from trembling. Her short skirt that stopped above her knees was not in any way suited for the chilling temperatures. Perhaps the dress was meant for warmer climates.

As she neared the end of Arvis' house, she could hear shouting inside, or rather, arguing.

"She is an officer of the Empire! She barreled through our town riding Magitek Armor!" a gruff voice yelled.

"Magitek Armor?" the phrase puzzled Terra further as she unintentionally stopped to listen for a moment. Those words made a feeling of disgust rise in her throat and conjured up flashes of what she assumed to be memories. The control panels were cold to the touch, a loud thunking noise came every time the machine took a step, and bright flames issued out of a hole in the front of the machine. Each image made Terra's stomach squirm around the food she had eaten only moments before, threatening to come back up.

More yelling came from the house, making the hair of Terra's neck stand on end. She tried to ignore it as she continued and reached the beginning of the bridge suspended on ropes. The planks of wood looked worn in some places, but she would try to avoid those when she came to them.

She peered down at Narshe from around the corner, finding it to look like a pleasant place to live, despite the snow. She let out a teeth-chattering shiver, taking in the pale light from the streetlamps, the chugging and grinding noises coming from the engines that let out puffs of steam, and the simple, yet handsome architecture. Narshe guards bustled around below in the streets, all soliciting houses, looking for her from what she could hear.

She had to hurry or else the time that Arvis bought her would be for nothing, so she took a timid step onto the bridge. Each step sounded ten times louder in her ears as if the steps were signaling to the guards, "Up here! Look! She's here!"

Terra's heart pounded in her ears as she moved carefully across the planks of wood. A glance down at the ground many, many yards below made her vision double, so she tried to focus on the path ahead. She neared the middle of the hanging bridge when a guard spotted her silhouette against the dark sky.

"Hey! There she is!" he shouted, pointing up at her as his fellow guards ran to his side.

Terra froze in place when she heard them clamoring below. “Oh no.”

"Let's find a way up there!" another guard said. The men ran off to sound the alarm and gather the rest of the guards for pursuit.

Terra scurried across the remaining half of the bridge, not paying any attention to the rotten parts which gave away when trod on. She ran into the entrance of the mine and didn’t stop until it became too dark for her to see past her nose.

"Gosh, what do I do now?" she squeaked, panting as she leaned back against the rock wall behind her. Without a thought, Terra raised her left hand, focused for a second, and a small fire appeared in her palm. She tucked the hunting knife in one of the scarves tied around her waist.

"At least I can see where I'm going now. Which way should I go, though?" she whispered to herself, her voice echoing off the rocks. The flame she conjured helped her calm down and she decided to keep walking until the person Arvis said he would send caught up with her.

"If I stay put, those guards will find me quicker. Maybe I'll run into that person sometime soon..."

Terra went down a corridor with rats that chattered around her feet and torches that looked long burnt out on the walls. She kicked at the rats when they crossed her path, and eventually came to a small bridge that crossed a deep chasm in the ground.

When she got across the bridge, she came to a forked corridor that did not look like either one was a better choice than the other. Terra was puzzled over which path to take when she heard voices coming from somewhere close by in the mines. The voices were magnified, bouncing off the cave walls but sounded close enough that she could even hear footsteps approaching on the ground.

She bolted down one path at random. Her flame flickered wildly as she ran. Terra wished over and over for the help from Arvis to come sooner.

The voices grew louder the farther she went, and shadows appeared on the walls around a bend in the path.

"There she is! We found the bitch!" an older guard cried.

"Come 'ere you little witch! We’ve got the perfect prison cell to throw you in!" another guard raged, moving towards her aggressively with a spear in his hand.

"No!" she cried, turning to run back the way she came, but found another throng of guards waiting for her. Terra shrieked as she was cornered, her legs shook as she backed up to the rock wall and her small flame went out with a puff of gray smoke.

Before the men could even grab her curly hair, the ground gave away with a deafening groan, sending Terra plummeting down to the level below. She landed on her knees, with her chest and face following in painful succession. Rocks and debris showered down upon her back.

Cries of anger and disappointment floated into her ears as she tried moving, crawling forward before the pain blossomed into her senses. Bubbles of darkness started flooding her vision as her body started emitting sparks of lime green light that bobbed in the air for a moment before absorbing back into her. Her wounded limbs started healing as all of her energy was drained away from the strain of casting such spells.

Terra's body still cast her spells as her mind blanked out, and darkness took over.


Fire enveloped her vision. The smell of scorched wood filled her nostrils as she rode past. The metallic clanking of her Magitek Armor rang out in the strangely quiet village. Dead bodies came into her view. Some were split in half, their insides spilling out into the dirt.

Some were mangled so badly that only their eyes remained untouched. The corpses stared at her as she approached, and continued staring when she crushed their legs and chests with her armor. Blood flowed through the streets, mixing with the scent of smoke and making her cough in disgust.

Everybody in the village was dead. And she was the cause. A man with a blond ponytail and garish makeup pulled up beside her in his Magitek Armor, cackling at the carnage while she struggled with herself to scream. Nothing came from her mouth.

"What a wonderful killer you are, my dear! You slaughtered every sad, pathetic cockroach in this scummy place in less than five minutes. That's a new record! The Emperor will certainly be pleased with you." the man giggled, looking at her like he would some expensive delicacy.

"Empy Gesty might even take that crown off of you for an evening! What's that look for?" he glared at her, frowning. Her face was contorted with grief and anger. She wanted to stop doing this. She wanted to be free.

"Looks like good ole Doctor Cid will have to check that crown of yours. Maybe adjust it to make the effects stronger. We can't have you making faces and thinking, now can we?"

Terra drifted on the edge of her consciousness, hearing that high-pitched male voice echoing the words over and over until it finally dissolved. Tears ran from her eyes as she made a futile attempt to escape it, only to black out again.


A group of moogles were foraging in the Narshe mines for food when they came upon a young woman, broken, on the ground. She was shivering slightly, her mint green hair was matted with blood, cuts and bruises covered her skin, and her breath came slowly and irregularly. The largest moogle, their leader, went to her side and patted her shoulder softly as if comforting her. The other moogles joined him, all patting her with their stubby little fur-covered paws.

"Kupo, kup, ku-ku!" the leader squeaked, his violet wings fluttering. His friends all hopped, drifting slowly back down to the ground due to their flapping wings, and scurried off to do as he requested. The large moogle nuzzled his face against her hair in a parting gesture before scurrying off to find somebody to help her.


A knock came from the back door as Arvis paced in front of his roaring fireplace. He had just added fresh logs to the fire and checked his pocket watch. It was about three in the morning, and it had been a couple of hours since he had last seen Terra. He had not heard any word from the town's citizens of the guards finding her, so she still had time. He went to let in who he hoped was his friend instead of another horde of the Narshe guards. The knock was quick and not thunderous like the ones his door received earlier on.

And upon seeing that the visitor was his comrade, he gave the man a smack to the back of his head as he entered.

"Locke, you're late! Have you any idea what's been going on tonight?" Arvis fumed, stomping back into his sitting room, the younger man following behind him.

Locke scratched at his head, shrugged, and handed Arvis a note that couldn’t be trusted with carrier pigeons. The older man read it quickly, letting out a nasty curse.

"This is about a day late."

"Look, would you mind telling me what the hell's goin' on? Banon handed me that note yesterday in town and now you're not telling me what's happening. You people aren't good at explaining things," Locke huffed, shoving his hands into his dark blue jacket pockets.

"The Empire sent Magitek Armored soldiers here to take the frozen esper. They killed many guards in the process, and now everybody's in a panic over whether they will attack again. Two of the soldiers haven't been found, yet, and one, a young woman, has escaped into the mines. I helped her and fed her before the remaining guards came to take her. They want to kill her, and this is not her fault!" Arvis picked up the slave crown from the mantle and thrust it at Locke. The young man's eyes grew wide upon seeing the device.

"We have to help her, don't we?" Locke asked, still staring at the slave crown.

Arvis nodded, setting it back on the mantle.

"If you could take some time out of your plundering and thieving to go find her and take her to Figaro castle, everybody in the Returners would appreciate it."

"Alright, I'll send word to you when I can," Locke replied, going back to the door to leave. As he was closing the door he called, "And I'm a treasure hunter! Sheesh!"

Arvis shook his head as he sat down to write yet another note to send to Banon.


"Thief my ass..." Locke grumbled as he strode into the mineshaft where the woman escaped. Luckily for him, he was not spotted as he went across the bridge because the guards remaining at the town gates were too busy reinforcing it against another attack. He didn’t want to get caught by the Narshe guards because they were still sore at him for "borrowing" their supplies without asking.

He took a matchbook out of his pocket and struck a match to light up a torch. The firelight reached well enough for him to see a few yards ahead of him.

He followed the pathways in the caves, moving quickly to find her before the guards could.

"Gods, I can't believe we're helping a defected Imperial soldier. Kefka's toy no less! I hope she stays defected…" he muttered to himself as he crossed a small bridge.

Something made scuffling noises behind him, causing Locke to turn sharply, anticipating a monster. He didn’t see anything but his own shadow flitting along the rock walls.

"I know I heard something..."

He shook his head, chalking it up to rats, and continued on his way with his ears trained on any sound that wasn't his footsteps. Locke jumped when he heard the noises again, turning his head every which way to find the source, but never saw anything more than a rat scurrying along the ground.

Unbeknownst to him, a moogle was following him around out of curiosity. The moogle thought that the strange man with bandanas tied around his head might be trying to find the woman who was wounded. After watching the man for a while and seeing that he was different from the loud men with spears and guns from earlier, the moogle let out a "kupo!" and hurried away to find his fellow moogles. They would be happy that he had found somebody to help so soon.

Locke came to a large hole in the ground that was still crumbling along the sides as if it had been formed recently.

"Maybe she fell down there," he wondered, moving cautiously to the edge and trying to shine some light into the darkness to see if he was right. He couldn’t see a thing, much to his dismay.

"Looks like I'll have to get down there and see. This isn't gonna be good for my knees."

Without further hesitation, Locke dropped himself down the hole, bracing himself for the shock when he landed. Pain surged up his legs once his feet connected with the ground. He groaned painfully as he tried to straighten up.

"At least I didn't fall on my ass. Gosh, that smarts!" he said and noticed that his torch was surprisingly still ablaze. He scanned the ground around him, seeing the large chunks of rock from the level above, the crumbles of dirt everywhere, and the mint-haired young woman lying on her front at a somewhat awkward angle.

Locke went to her side quickly, checking the pulse in her neck, and was relieved to discover that her heartbeat was still going strong.

"She's only knocked out," he moved her gently over so that her legs were not in such a crumpled position. Locke recognized the part of the mine they were in and remembered hiding out there during his youth.

"Well, let's get cha outta here before the dimwits show up!" he said to the unconscious woman as he started to try picking her up. He was a bit conflicted about the whole business, but she was helpless at the moment. And he figured that if she did try to get back to the Empire, at least he could stash her in Figaro. Figaro wouldn't try to execute her like Narshe would undoubtedly. They could learn a lot from her once she woke up.

Just then, the sound of boots clomping and angry male voices echoed throughout the cave.

"Oh shit."

"There's the Imperial Witch! Get her!" the leader of the guards commanded as he caught sight of Locke trying to pick her up.

"Great, they're all here," Locke spat sarcastically, setting her back down gently and putting his hand over a dagger on his belt.

"Kupo!" came from behind him. He spun around and saw a group of moogles all regarding him with their wings flapping. The largest moogle came forward with a spear in his little paw and motioned Locke to the guards.

"What? You guys wanna help?"

All of the moogles wiggled their antennae and hopped in confirmation.

"Thanks! You guys came at the perfect time!"

A moogle shoved Locke back around to get him to focus on the guards who were advancing on them fast.

Narshe was one of the only major cities that trained the native monsters to fight for them, which made their defenses that much stronger. Other than the harsh climate that Narshe rested in, the creatures were formidable and vicious. Enormous wolves with dark silver fur called lobos leaped and snarled as the moogles fought. Several moogles wielded spears and swords that came from who-knows-where attacked the lobos ferociously in return for the wolves clawing and biting them.

Locke joined a group of moogles that were fighting a large fur-covered elephant that held control over blizzards. It cast its spell, causing needles of ice strike to the group, slashing and cutting into their flesh. One moogle jumped on top of the mammoth with his sword raised high before he brought it down hard into the back of the beast.

Two more moogles dashed forward with their spears and started tearing into the mammoth where they could reach. Locke didn't want the moogles to have all of the fun, so he ran at the mammoth and started slicing at its face, making the beast cry out even more. It reared back on its hind legs, knocking the moogle riding it off, and fell on its side with a thundering crash.

"Great job!" Locke called to the moogles, giving them a thumbs-up as he ran to a Narshe guard who was coming up with his spear out, dodged the man's attack, and slit his throat when he slipped behind him. The thief snatched a tonic from the man's pocket as he fell, chugged it, and put the empty bottle in his pocket before he ran up to a group of five guards battling two moogles. One of the moogles threw a bladed boomerang at a guard, making him fall over bleeding.

Locke tackled the closest guard and started stabbing his chest before the guard could act. His comrades fell under the hands of the moogles, and soon there was only one enemy left: the guard Marshal.

As Locke was starting to go after the Marshal, the largest moogle pranced up to him almost innocently, ducked a swipe of his blade, and started dancing. The Narshe Marshal looked confused as the moogle danced around him, and a strange aura appeared. Then, boulders fell from the ceiling at an alarming rate, and they were all focused on the Marshal. The man screamed as he was squashed under the weight of the rocks, and the moogle finally stopped.

The thief's jaw dropped, eyes wide at what he had just witnessed. The moogle scampered back to his friends like a cute little puppy, and squeaked, "Kupo kupo!"

The moogles all danced in victory for a moment, until a smaller one pointed back at the unconscious woman they had been protecting. Locke nodded at the moogles as he wiped the sweat from his forehead.

He went back to the woman, picked her up under her knees and back, and called back to the moogles, "Thank you, moogles! I'm in your debt! You guys are amazing!"

They all hopped happily as Locke carried her through a path that went down a corridor with torches lit already, and down some stone steps. He reached the end of the path and sat the young woman down on the ground with her back against the wall. She started stirring when her body adjusted against the rock.

Locke went to work with a hidden switch he had made several years before, slipping his fingers into slight grooves in the wall and pressing against the small lever. A click came from the wall, signaling that it had been activated.

He saw that the woman he had just saved was rubbing her temples slowly with her eyes closed.

"You're back with us now?" he asked, causing her eyes to snap open. She trained her gaze on Locke's face unsteadily before wincing in pain.

"Um, who are you?" she rubbed at her eyes next with bruised fingers.

"Call me Locke. Arvis sent me to help you. Luckily for both of us, the moogles arrived in the nick of time to fend off the guards." Locke crouched down next to her.

"Oh! Thank you, Locke, I'm Terra," she replied, trying to stand up while supporting herself against the wall. Locke lent an arm to help her steady herself, which she took gratefully.

"That must have been a doozy, falling like that. Are you able to walk?" he asked, letting her keep his arm for support. She tried a step without any trouble and nodded.

"I think I'm fine. I just feel really tired," she took another step and didn’t stumble like Locke thought she might.

"My head is spinning…can we rest here for a moment?" Terra asked, to which Locke nodded with a kind smile. Terra clutched her head with her free hand, sighing.

"Darn, I still can't remember anything..."

"What? You have amnesia?"

"That's what it's called? That man who helped me before, Arvis? He told me that my memory would come back in time," she looked at Locke meekly. He seemed to be distracted by a thought. Locke caught her gaze after a moment and shook his head at whatever was bothering him.

"Arvis is right. But don't you worry, Terra! I'll protect you until your memory returns. I promise, alright?" Locke told her, his voice serious.

"We’d better get out of here before anybody else comes after you, okay? Come on!" Locke pulled her along and showed her his secret passage that led them outside of the town.

Terra felt some of her strength coming back as they walked and soon didn’t need Locke's arm to lean on whenever she felt dizziness rushing back to her. Her bag bounced on her back and her cloak fluttered around her as the wind picked up and snow fell from the sky.

The duo descended the mountain at a quick pace. Terra saw scrubby vegetation sprouting from the icy ground the farther down they went. The names of the plants formed in her mind as they passed them by.

When the first tree appeared on the horizon, Locke ran to it and hopped up into its branches. Terra got to the tree and looked up to see him pulling a worn leather travel pack down from the foliage.

"What are you doing?"

"I had to hide my bag here because I didn't want to get slowed down by this thing. It's kinda heavy sometimes," he explained, settling the bag on his back and hopping down to Terra's side.

"I see. So, where are we going?" Terra finally thought to ask as they set off again down towards a heavily wooded valley.

"We're going to Figaro castle in the desert. Me and Arvis think that it will be a good place for us to hide for a few days. When I receive word from the Returners, then we'll go to the hideout."

"Wait, what are the Returners?" Terra was curious and slowed down her pace as she tried to process everything she was told.

"They're a resistance movement against the Empire. I'm Arvis's contact with the group. I bring him news and stuff like that." Locke slowed down to match his pace with Terra’s. The words just escaped his mouth before he could stop talking. He didn't mean to be so casual with his info, but Locke had a feeling she wouldn’t want to crawl back to the Empire anytime soon. His gut instincts were usually right in that sense.

Terra didn’t say anything more and continued walking with Locke, deep in thought.

The Empire was looking for her. The Narshe guards wanted to kill her. And now the Returners seemed interested in her for whatever reason. If only she could remember more, then she wouldn't feel so confused about all that was going on. Where did she fit into all of it exactly?

They continued walking through the forests for the rest of that morning, stopping every now and then for a short rest because Terra was still rather weak.

The forests were calm that day, and the skies were clear, unlike in Narshe. Sunlight streamed down through the tree branches in bright beams where specks of pollen sparkled where they floated in the air. The ground was thick with dark green bracken, shrubs that were in bloom, and rich moss. Whenever Locke and Terra rested, Terra would sit down on a patch of spongy moss and run her fingers across it like it was a plush carpet. She would also relish the way her skin felt when the sun hit it. Her entire body finally warmed up and stayed at a cozy temperature.

Locke gave her a tonic to drink as they rested to help give her strength back. In return, Terra gave Locke a hunk of the white cheese and bread Arvis provided her with.

He smiled and ate eagerly, "Thanks a bunch! I’m starved!"

Terra nodded as she chewed a piece of bread slowly. She felt her energy returning.

"We can have apples for supper tonight with some dried meat I've been saving," he explained between swallows. Locke stood up and let her know where he was going for a moment. She took a long drink from her water bottle and waited for Locke to return from the bush a few yards away.

After they gathered their things and continued through the forest, an image floated into Terra's hazy mind. It was a bright day in a field with high grasses and rows upon rows of soldiers in brown armor. They were marching swiftly in front of a flank of Magitek Armor. She was a pilot in one of the cockpits.

"Yoo-hoo, you alright there?" Locke's voice snapped her out of the scene in her head with a start.

"What's wrong? You look frightened," he touched her shoulder gingerly, and let his hand rest on her when she didn't draw away.

"I remembered something I think," Terra said evenly in her soft voice, her eyes trained on Locke's face.

"Oh?"

"I know what Magitek Armor is now."

Notes:

This chapter got its name from the song in the soundtrack. Thanks for reading!
*Update 11/7/23: Did a little editing on this chapter after my beta pointed out a couple errors I missed somehow!

Chapter 3: On The Run

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The journey to Figaro castle was taking much longer than Locke intended or cared to admit freely. If it was just him, he'd be sprinting through the forests along the train tracks until he reached the desert sands and hitch a ride with a caravan on their way to the castle. He was inconspicuous looking enough to be forgotten promptly. Even with the spare bandana he tied around Terra's curly green hair, she stood out a lot.

For one thing, there was just too much of her hair to hide unless he chopped a good bit of it off or snagged a set of desert traveler robes to cover her up completely. Her clothes were purely Vector garb, and that alone would set off alarm bells to the nomads who roamed the immense desert. People around these parts wore simpler fabrics without all the noisy patterns, and the girls certainly wore longer skirts if not for anything but the biting insects. The king would appreciate her dress, but other, more conservative folk? Hell no.

And it was a whole other bucket of worms that anybody with a lick of sense could tell she was from the southern continent. Clothing styles were a dead giveaway anywhere up north, and the fact that hers were so…bright would cause some bad responses when people put two and two together. The Empire was starting to make some unhappy campers as of late.

So, the young rogue led his charge of sorts along the tracks heading south for several hours, during which, she asked a few questions. Locke was happy that she had started talking more, and because it was no fun to travel in silence. Yes, he usually made up for that by yakking at himself when he was roughing it alone, but having company was a real treat.

"What's Figaro like?" Terra asked, walking more quickly to match Locke's longer stride. She recalled barely recognizable flashes of words on a page about the desert castle and trade routes through the sands.

Locke was more than happy to get into a long speech about how the castle was an oasis that any traveler could waltz into for refreshments and rest complete with his arms flapping excitedly as he spoke. "You'll get used to the noise of the big metal fans on top of the towers and the heat. The courtyard is very nice to walk around during the day. And the drinks are to die for!"

Terra tried to absorb all of the information Locke relayed to her in his sporadic fashion and organized it in her head. She should wait until it is past supper time to take a bath because by then the water won't scald her. They don't serve duck in the castle because they can never get a good fresh supply up from South Figaro before the birds lose their juiciness. And apparently, she shouldn't listen to a single thing that the king asks of her because he's a licentious ole git who needs a good kick in the pants pronto.

"Wait, what's a 'licentious ole git?' Is it dangerous?" Terra considered what she could remember in her faulty mind and hoped that she could get ahold of something sturdier than the small hunting knife she acquired from Arvis. If she was going to be dealing with somebody who could potentially cause her harm, she'd feel better with a long sword that was freshly sharpened. Unbeknownst to her, she had uttered her thoughts out loud like Locke had the tendency to do and caused the thief to break out in hysterical laughter.

Terra stared at Locke bewildered. She was not aware that her concerns were anything worth laughing at and furrowed her eyebrows as she tried to understand his amusement. Locke caught her befuddlement, and after laughing much more, to Terra's further dismay, he tried to stop.

"Nah, you didn't understand me, Ter! Eddy wouldn't hurt a green hair on your head!" Locke made a big show about getting his breathing back to normal in between leftover chuckles. "I just meant that he might try to put the moves on you! He does with everybody. Man, woman, houseplant, nobody's safe!" Locke laughed some more as Terra puzzled over what he meant.

She was drawing up empty from her very tiny amount of world knowledge and the closest she could come up with had to do with fighting again, as far as "moves" went. She sighed softly and let her judgment fall to the wayside in favor of trusting Locke. Unless he was bent on handing her over to the Figaroan guard as soon as they arrived, she didn't have much choice because the fact of the matter was that she was alone and had a very spotty memory. And it didn't help her that she had no idea really where they were in the world. She had the feeling that even if she were in the area where the Empire supposedly kept her, she wouldn't know her way around much better there either.

Whoever this King Edgar was, he must have done something strange for a king to cause Locke to speak so poorly of him. Terra listened attentively as Locke continued telling her about how he'd get her in a nice bath to wash the twigs out of her hair. She hadn't even noticed the dirt or twigs within the past day or so and felt compelled to search her curls for the suspects in question.

When a small cluster of trees came into view, Locke ushered her into them quickly before scaling the tallest one he could find. Terra watched silently from her place at the base as Locke retracted a strange device that he held up to his right eye. She decided to ask him if she could see it later during one of their rest stops.

She heard her companion hiss a curse to some fire goddess as he snapped his little device back to its original size.

"What do you see?" Terra hoped that it wasn't anything worse than a pack of monsters.

Locke clamored down from his perch and beckoned Terra to follow him in a new direction leading away from the railroad tracks.

"We've gotta get moving southwest on the double, Ter. I was hoping we'd have more time following this route since it's the quickest, but it looks like we're flat outta luck." His demeanor changed as they hurried away from the trees and made for a path that led away from the mountain range.

Terra tried to keep up with his pace and persisted with her question about what he saw. From the way Locke was acting, it had to be something much more serious than monsters.

The thief conceded and answered quickly as they continued on, "Okay, so we were following the tracks, right? That's the quickest way to the castle from Narshe because it's a straight-cut south. But now it'll take us a few days to reach the castle instead of only a couple because we have to avoid the railways." He paused to take a draught from a water bottle he pulled out of his pack.

"I knew that we'd have to break off from that route anyways because the caravan people would recognize your clothes, ya know? And people don't take kindly to the Empire, so you'd stick out like a sore thumb. But anyways, I saw Imperials at one of the train fueling stations."

"And they're looking for us, right?" Terra bit her lip.

"Bingo, so now we're taking a bit of a detour," Locke offered her his water bottle after glancing back at her. She accepted and took a swig of the surprisingly cool water.

Locke squared his shoulders and marched southwest at a pace much quicker than they had been traveling previously. Locke was not in the mood to deal with Imperial soldiers. He'd already had enough trouble with the guards back in Narshe and their nonsense.

"They're not following us, are they?" Terra's whispery voice floated up to his ears as she trotted up to his side.

"Not from what I could see. They were sending soldiers on chocobos north and south along the tracks. But there could be spies out our way." He kept his eyes peeled for any tell-tale signs of Imperial Special Ops as the high prairie grasses rose all around them and the trees finally gave way. Locke wasn't happy about traveling out in the open like this with Imperials creeping around.

Terra had to jog to keep up with Locke's pace and tried to remember anything at all from her past that could be useful. Again, she drew up nearly empty from the small well of her mind.

"Is there anything I can help keep an eye out for, Locke? All I can remember is the sound of Magitek Armor walking." Locke considered her for a moment. Then he scanned the meadows around them briefly for any odd trails through the grasses or the absence of animal and insect sounds.

"Pay attention to the sounds around us, for one thing. If there's one thing that's been consistent with these jokers, it's that birds and insects are quiet when a Heavy Armor is around. Though, I doubt that they'd bring a Heavy out on a scouting mission looking for a couple of travelers." And yet, the Empire sent three sets of Magitek Armor out to raid Narshe. He pushed that from his mind sternly. Surely the Emperor wouldn't make that choice again, would he? The game was changing for them, that was for sure.

Locke looked down at Terra again and continued, "Always be aware of what's around us. If you notice anything off at all, sure enough, your gut's telling you something." Terra nodded seriously at this.

"Don't worry too much about it though, Ter. Just stick by me and you'll be fine!" he ruffled her ponytail playfully.

But to Terra, Locke's good mood seemed to have vanished when he discovered the Imperials at the train station. They went along in quiet for the next few hours, both listening for anything out of the ordinary. She couldn't stop herself from looking behind them every few moments out of fear of a troupe of soldiers charging them down. None came, fortunately, but Locke's shoulders remained rigid, and his joking stopped.

Their rest stops were much shorter now too, and much of the time, Locke refused to sit in favor of pacing back and forth while he ate his apple.

The sun was near setting before they stopped for any considerable length of time. Terra was growing weary as she sat in the somewhat scratchy grasses.

"You can go ahead and sleep for a while. I'll keep watch," Locke offered with a smile. Terra accepted and wrapped her cloak around her like a blanket as she lay down. She sat her pack under her head as a pillow and fell asleep much quicker than she anticipated.


Her eyes were trained on the ground before her red polished boots. Goose bumps rose on her bare shoulders from the cool breeze snaking its way through the yard. Towering steel buildings rose all around her.

A white-gloved hand guided her up the metal stairs to the platform where she was led to a spot well behind the balcony. The hand gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze before its owner retreated to his place at the Emperor's side. The Emperor was dressed in black and red ornate dress robes of his office. His gray hair spilled down his shoulders in waves, and his voice boomed all around her as he addressed the soldiers below in their neat lines organized by rank and height.

"We are witnesses to a new age of wisdom! Under our new Empire, all will prosper!"

His voice was convincing and full of passion. The man with the white gloves cheered with the soldiers. The woman on the Emperor's other side remained motionless.

"This power is ours and ours alone! We must lead the world into this new age! The age of magic is upon us!"

The woman turned her head to the side slightly, enough to look at her steadily, before turning back and punching the air with her fist as she cheered with the crowd.

The cheers and shouts crashed around her again and again, swallowing her up in the sound.


"Wakey-wakey, kiddo. We gotta get a move on," Locke shook her arm gently before setting a slice of dried meat in her hand. He went to busy himself with packing up their stuff as Terra opened her eyes with a yawn. The sounds from her dream faded away before she could be troubled to worry over them.

The sky was dark, and the moon was riding up to the middle of the open skies. She slapped at a biting insect with her free hand.

"How long did I sleep?"

"Not too long. Only three hours or so." Locke heaved his pack onto his shoulders with a grunt.

"What about you? Don't you feel tired?" She stuck the dried meat between her teeth as she strapped her bag to her back and stood up on legs that didn't quite want to wake up yet. Locke shook his head, chalking it up to feeling a bit antsy.

Terra wanted to press the issue further because she could surely keep an eye out for creeping Imperials while Locke rested, but he hurried off so quickly that she had no choice but to follow. Perhaps Locke was much more worried than he was letting on.

The pair walked briskly for several hours without stopping. Finally, they came to another copse of trees that hid the moon and stars from view completely.

Terra was too winded to notice how mushy the ground beneath her feet was, nor that the thicket was strangely quiet.

"Want some bread?" she slung her pack down on a flat stone and started digging around for her water bottle. Locke didn't answer her. She looked up and felt a cold rush through her limbs. He was standing completely still, listening, with his muscles coiled, ready for something.

Without a word, Locke turned on his heel and grabbed Terra's arm as he went, dragging her along back out of the thicket. Terra snatched her bag as they went and had the feeling that asking questions wouldn't do at the moment.

He broke out into a dead run while still holding on to Terra and led them away from the forest just in time to miss the gunshots. Somehow, she could see the bullets sent in their direction, and whoever was firing them kept missing.

Then, out of the darkness came the barking and the heavy bootfalls of the Imperials chasing them.

Words on a yellowed page floated to the surface of her mind. The Empire transfused their trained war hounds with some strange substance. She couldn't recall what the injection was. But she knew that it made them stronger and faster and more vicious than any normal hound could be.

She looked back and really wished that she didn't. The hounds were gaining on them with a hungry gleam in their black eyes. They would be caught if she didn't do something to stop them. The Imperials might keep the dogs from injuring her fatally, but they would probably let them go wild on Locke.

Locke wouldn't be able to hold them off with only his dagger, no matter how skilled he was with it, especially against four opponents. Terra had to do something.

"Locke, wait!" Terra cried, yanking her arm away from him as she stopped running.

"Like hell, I will! C'mon Ter!" he grabbed her hand. She shrugged him off and turned to face the soldiers and dogs.

Heat gathered in her palms, and she let it fly in a great pillar of flame. The Imperials' screams carried through the night air along with the dogs' snarls. But these too soon died out as her fire crackled and licked at the sky.

Once she was finished with her spell, Terra slumped down to her knees in the high grasses. She was much more tired now. She dug through her bag and found her water to drink deeply from it.

With a sigh, she turned to see what Locke had done with himself and saw him standing rooted to the spot, his jaw slack.

His mouth worked noiselessly as he looked from Terra to the fire that still burned quietly without spreading in the prairie grasses. Locke's mind reeled as what he had just witnessed hit him like a wave. Terra could do magic. That fire was certainly not from Magitek Armor, or a lantern, or matches, or anything. It came from her hands.

Rushing up to her and dropping to his knees, Locke grabbed her hands to inspect them for traces of some gizmo or white blisters.

"Ah, Locke, you made me drop my bottle." Terra protested. Her bottle had fallen on its side and spilled its contents into the grass.

But he didn't hear her. He was too focused on trying to figure out how she had managed to roast two Imperials and a pair of war hounds. It couldn't have been magic. That was preposterous! Magic hasn't existed in over one thousand years!

"Locke, are you alright?" she asked with worried eyes. Locke had been muttering to himself as he examined her hands front and back and between her fingers.

"Terra, was that magic?" he asked breathlessly, bringing his eyes up to meet hers. Terra stammered that it came naturally to her and that she wouldn't hurt him, she promised. It was just something that she could do, she went on, and she could use it to help them.

Locke's face softened as she stumbled over her words and looked almost teary. But he couldn't help the astonished laugh that bubbled out of his mouth. Terra gave him a flummoxed look as tears threatened to fall down her cheeks.

"Gods, that was amazing! Magic! Who knew this one could be so rearing with firepower!" Locke shook his head as he kept laughing to himself.

"Wait til Ed hears about this! Oh boy," he stood then, pulling Terra with him.

"What was so funny about this?" Terra asked, wondering if Locke had taken a bullet to the head or something along those lines. The firelight increased the shadows on his face when he turned to face her.

"I've just never seen magic before, is all, Ter! It's a bit of a surprise for a guy who's only heard of that kinda stuff in fairy tales, ya know?" Locke gave her a pat on the shoulder and thanked her for taking care of the soldiers. She nodded and ventured a few steps forward before finding that doing so made her head swim.

She stumbled into Locke's side, "Woah there, you alright?" She grabbed at her head and tried to stand up without tumbling down to her knees again. Terra swayed unsteadily on her feet. Locke offered her his arm as he helped steady her. She leaned on him heavily and wished that she hadn't used up so much energy so quickly.

"I guess that kinda power takes a lot outta you, eh?" without bothering to ask, Locke heaved Terra up onto his back and secured her hands around his neck. She was too exhausted to object to riding on his back and let herself slump against his jacket.

Terra mumbled an agreement to his question. Locke started walking away from the blazing bodies and judged by the descending moon which direction to take.

His earlier good mood seemed to blossom back with a vengeance as he asked her questions about her powers and talked about how useful it must be to be magical. Instead of being put off by her abnormality, Locke accepted it.

"I mean gosh, Ter, my old Gran used to tell me stories about magical creatures that lived alongside humans all the time when I was a kid. To think that I'd meet somebody who can do those things!" he turned his face to look at her with a boyish grin.

"Man, you look exhausted! I'll let you down once we've got a few miles away from those sneaks. Bet we both could do with a bit of dinner." Terra was content to listen to Locke's jabbering as her mind rocked to and fro like wine in a glass. Locke didn't seem to mind Terra's lull in answering him because he would just continue talking excitedly about the legends of the War of the Magi and of the otherworldly creatures called "espers."

After many fairy stories and ideas on how her fire magic would be useful on the road (No more dealing with wet matches!), Locke sat Terra down in the grass carefully as the moon sank below the horizon line. Terra looked around blearily and saw that they were near the bank of a stream that cut through the tall grasses. Thin trees grew with their roots anchored in the stream bed, and smooth gray stones were clustered around the edge of the waters.

Locke slipped his bag off into the grass next to her and started rummaging around in it in a messy fashion. Items fell from the main opening of the bag as well as smaller trinkets that tumbled out of the many pockets seemingly patched on the outside of the pack. The thief extracted three empty glass bottles and clamored down to the water with a splash.

He rinsed out the bottles and filled them up fresh in the cool stream. Terra, meanwhile, fought the urge to examine Locke's belongings as she stuck them back into his bag neatly. Her companion carried a lot of odd little knick-knacks with him in his travels, like a roll of leather with a strap that held it together and the collapsible device she saw him using the day before. He returned laden with water and handed Terra a round bottle.

"Drink up while you can! We'll be at the desert tomorrow, looks like." Locke sat down heavily in front of her with his back to the stream. He uncorked a rectangular flagon and took a few big gulps from it with a satisfied sigh.

"I thought you said that it would take us longer now that we aren't near the railway," Terra sipped from her bottle thoughtfully.

"Well, that's what I thought, but it looks like we made exceptional time with the extra walking I did last night. This stream is a marker I keep track of, and I'd say that if we go the rest of today, we'll make the last fourteen miles before tomorrow. I did have a map here somewhere, but it must've run off on me." He smiled wryly at his bag as if it had something to do with the missing map.

Terra excused herself to go alleviate her heavy bladder and hurried off to a private spot behind some of the thin trees. When she came back, Locke was slicing up an apple and offered her half of it when she sat down in her previous spot. She pulled out the last hunk of white cheese and bread and ripped them in half on the bandana she pulled off of her head for a plate. She sat Locke's share in front of him on the bandana and drew her hunting knife from the folds of her scarves on her waist to slice up her bread. Before she could start cutting Locke's up for him, she saw that the man had practically inhaled his food and was already trying to cram an apple slice in his mouth. Terra shook her head, amused, and savored each bite of her meal slowly.

After they finished their meals, Locke was bouncing on the balls of his feet, waiting for Terra to finish packing up her things so they could get a move on.

"How can you have so much energy after carrying me last night?" she asked as she pulled her bag straps over her arms and secured her cloak in place on her shoulders. She noted that she would have to tuck the wool cloak into her pack once they reached the desert, so she wouldn't die of heat stroke.

Locke winked at her and produced a cut glass vial from somewhere on his person that her eyes were too slow to see. The vial seemed to appear in existence in his left hand, which made Terra wary of what else Locke was hiding in those bandanas and belt pouches.

He flicked the top off the glass and upturned it into his throat with a showy swig, "This little guy will keep me going for another few days without sleep!" He tossed the vial to Terra lazily once he fastened the cap back into place. She caught it on reflex and turned the vial over in her hand. Silvery letters were painted onto one side of the glass, and she had to reflect it in the sun to make out what they said.

"I thought that elixirs were extremely rare, Locke," Terra went after him doggedly, though her temples ached from the exertion of keeping pace with her companion. The effects of her magic usage were still seizing at her with prickly arms.

He cocked an eyebrow down at her, "Looks like somebody's recovering her memory pretty well!" Terra merely nodded and said under her breath that her past wasn't coming to her much at all. Only trivial things like what elixirs are and how to use Imperial rifles. Locke chuckled at her consternation and clapped her on the back.

"It's better than nothing, I'd say! Anyway, I found that elixir in the weirdest place too. It was shoved into a grandfather clock behind the first panel." At the interested and questioning look he received, Locke continued to explain how he had first accidentally found such rare cocktails hidden away in old clay urns and the like. Ever since, the rogue had checked every single place he could, when he had the time and opportunity, because people, rich people especially, liked to hide their valuables in "unlikely" places.

Then Locke went on into a long rant that took the entire morning about how rich people tended to think alike and how he had found dozens and dozens of valuables in the most bizarre hiding places. This rant would drift off onto tangents about picking locks, which Locke accentuated by showing Terra a tool roll he kept in his bag with long slivers of iron and bits of old keys he's had to fashion himself for specific lock types he's run into over the years. The tool roll was the bundle of leather that Terra had seen earlier before they ate their breakfast.

But of course, Locke didn't always have access to his leather roll, so he stuck some of his lock picks around his person just in case.

The day was very mild, though dry and windy, and Terra was so engrossed in learning how Locke had made his lock picks and hearing his stories that the hours slipped by without caution. Before they knew it, they had crossed a good deal of the remaining meadow between the Narshe mountain ranges.

Her heaviness of mind and limb had subsided, to her surprise, and she felt the familiar energy in her body that was her magic. Before, it was weaker and hard to draw on due to her high-level spell.

The pair did not run into any more Imperial scouts or war hounds and hoped that they would not see any traipsing around the dunes.

As if to underline this hope, Locke and Terra set off immediately after taking a short break a few miles from the beginning of the desert sands. Terra made a move to take her cloak off, but Locke stopped her.

"You'd be better off leaving that cape on. It gets chilly at night in the desert." She complied and left her cloak clasp alone for the time being.

"Hopefully, we'll get to the castle by morning, so we don't have to walk around in the damn sun! There's nothing worse than having to go on foot in the middle of the desert with sand blowing in your face and scratching your eyes all to hell," Locke prattled on. Terra could not recall ever having been in the desert before, and intended on examining all that she could see and committing it to her memory.

Soon, as they walked on southwestwards, the grasses of the meadows gave way to more scrubby vegetation and stones. Instead of plants with broad leaves, the outskirts of the great desert had plants with leaves that resembled needles. The air became drier and cooler as they went on, and eventually, they spied the first immense dune on the horizon partially hidden by large dusty gray and brown rocks.

Encouraged by their speedy progress, Locke grabbed Terra's hand, ran to the stones, and helped her climb up the rocks safely.

From there, they climbed carefully up to the crest of the dune and rested for a few moments. They shared water back and forth to wet their dry throats before beginning the last leg of their journey to the castle.

There was an art to scaling up and down dunes taller than village cottages, and Terra learned it the hard way. At least once on her way up or down a dune, she skidded to her knees, lost her footing, fell backward, and had to rely on Locke's hand or arm to make it securely over. Hours passed in this way as the half-moon rose in the chilly night air.

The skies were clear, and the stars twinkled brightly above, and whenever she could, Terra would try to pick out the constellations that Locke had pointed at and described for her. She particularly liked the star pattern called "the Charging Behemoth."

Locke gave Terra a tonic from one of his side pouches when he noticed her slowing movements, despite her not complaining of being tired. The liquid fizzed in her esophagus and made her cough from the sensation.

She covered her mouth to cough once more and felt the tonic working as it spread through her middle, "Thanks, Locke." Her companion had gone up to the apex of the next dune and let out a hearty laugh.

"You're going to thank me again once you get your skinny self up here!" he called down, waving his hands in the air, beckoning her to climb up after him. Terra slowly picked her way up the dune successfully without sliding off sideways and immediately understood Locke's meaning.

The castle was massive, to say the least.

It rose out of the desert sands with its banners high on the towers, snapping in the wind. From their vantage point, Terra could see tiny green-clad figures moving along the battlements, and more figures rode on chocobo-back on the ground around the fortress. The large gates pulled up for a caravan pulled by two brown chocobos and were lowered once more as they disappeared into the gatehouse.

Locke clasped Terra's left hand with a grin and pulled her down the dune after him, running pell-mell straight to the castle gates.

Notes:

*Update 11/8/23: Hi there again! I did another quick round of editing because past me really liked putting commas in interesting places. *sighs at 24 year old self lol* Anyhoo, I've been working on the next batch of chapters and plan on updating once I get like 5 completed! We'll be in Sabin's scenario! I've just got to finish these edits or else my brain won't be able to focus on writing the new stuff.
I always thought Locke was the kind of guy to give people nicknames out of nowhere, so yeah. There are some characters I won't do that with because it'll sound weird lol And it always bugged me as a kid when I'd have Terra cast fire on monsters between Narshe and the castle and Locke wouldn't freak, but he spazzes out when she does it in front of Edgar? Had to fix that!
Thank you for reading and let me know what you think! The good, the bad, the concrit, I don't mind any of it at all~ I'm writing this novelization for fun, but I won't be able to improve for future chapters unless I get a variety of feedback, ya know? I hope this was a fun read and see you in the next one!

Chapter 4: Desert Sands

Notes:

Phew! This chapter took quite a long time to write and revise, but it was very fun. I know that this is a very big update/chapter, but I felt that the story would flow better to have all of this compiled into one chapter instead of breaking it up. I hope you all enjoy reading!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The morning spread out over the dunes slowly when Locke and Terra made it at long last to the Figaro castle gates. The moon had fallen below the horizon line, and the sky was pale and gradually grew brighter as the sun caught up with them.

Several yards away from the intimidating wrought iron gates, Locke brushed sand from his clothes with quick motions before turning on Terra to assault her bandana and dress.

"Gotta look a bit more spiffy or else the maids will outright attack you, kiddo." His eyes glinted with amusement as Terra put up with him fussing over her clothes with her mouth tight. She wondered if he had to endure being "attacked" by a legion of maids once before.

"Don't say much until we get to the throne room, okay?" Locke murmured in her ear as he wrapped his hand around hers. They walked up to the gates slowly and waited to be acknowledged by the Figaroan guard.

As if on cue, a strong-jawed man strode up to the pair on his chocobo with a mug of something hot in one of his leather-gloved hands.

 "State your business," the guard declared, his eyes glued to Terra.

"I have business with his grace, the king," Locke replied.

"And this one?" the guard gestured at Terra as he spoke.

"She is my ward, sir."

The guard took a swig from his steaming mug, eyed them some more, and waved his free hand to the men on the battlements above. Then, the heavy gates swung up with a loud grinding noise that Terra was surprised couldn't be heard when the caravan went through before them earlier.

"Proceed, I'll send word to his grace."

Locke nodded and pulled Terra along into the gatehouse just inside the castle. The entryway was large enough to accommodate several hundred people, and tall enough to allow high topped caravans and wagons to enter without getting stuck.

There were four circular stairways leading up to the top of the gates, two on each side of the large room, and several doors leading to who-knew-where. Terra wanted to see where these doors led, but Locke kept walking through the gatehouse at a swift pace.

A set of tall wooden doors at the end of the gatehouse led to a courtyard with merchant stalls being set up for the day along the walls. Even though it was still early in the day, people were milling around with shopping baskets haggling over the prices of fruits and meats.

"Must have been a new guard captain, pah," Locke grumbled under his breath, heading towards the opposite wall where another set of double doors lay.

"Do the guards normally not act that way towards you?" asked Terra, unable to keep her eyes off the merchants setting up their stalls with embroidered fabrics and shiny trinkets.

Locke looked down at Terra, "Not usually. The main gates are normally thrown open for all to enter. Yeah, the guards keep an eye on people, especially dodgey-looking ones. But I'm a face they see nearly every few weeks." He paused to open the door for Terra and resumed talking once they were past the pair of guards standing at the entrance.

They were now in a long corridor with many side halls splitting off into different directions. Locke led her straight down the main hall which was lined with antique suits of armor in varying styles.

"So either that guy was a newbie, or Edgar's gotten wind of something brewing. With all that's been happening as of late, I'd bet my jacket it's the latter."

Locke’s suspicions caused a wave of worry to rise in her throat. Maybe King Edgar heard about the Imperial soldiers patrolling the valley between the Narshe mountain ranges. She hoped that the king wouldn’t turn her over to the Empire.

Without paying any attention to where they were headed, Terra blinked and suddenly found herself outside of what had to be the throne room. Locke stopped a few paces away from the intricately carved marble doors flanked by guards in full armor with crossbows strapped to their backs and spears in their hands.

Locke leaned down to whisper in Terra’s ear, “Don’t you worry about a thing, okay? Edgar’s a good guy.”

“Alright,” Terra replied, though wary of what was to come. Locke’s warnings of the king when they were traveling echoed in her mind.

“’ Scuse me sirs,” Locke addressed the guards, “Can you request an audience with the king for me?”

The guard to the left came to life with a thin smile that vanished as he went into the throne room for a few moments. Muffled speaking could barely be heard outside of the marble doors, and within another moment, the sentinel returned.

“His grace will see you now, Mr. Cole,” he held the door open for Locke and Terra and carefully closed it behind them.

The walls were lofty and had tapestries depicting battle scenes, portraits, and what she assumed to be the Figaro flag sewn into the thick fabrics. Stained glass windows rested near the smooth ceiling, and gave the room a warm feeling as sunlight filtered down into reds and greens on the gray stone floor.

A narrow red carpet ran the length of the room and ended at a pair of thrones on a raised dais. Four more guards stood along the walls of the room at attention.

Both gold-embellished thrones were empty, and upon realizing this, Terra shifted her gaze downwards a bit before noticing the man sitting on the short steps leading to the thrones. In his hands was a small hunk of metal with cogs and gears on the surface and a long screwdriver, and he seemed to ignore the oil dripping from the thing onto his finely tailored black trousers. 

The blond man looked up from his tinkering at the sound of the door shutting and gave the pair a big smile.

“Edgar! How’s it goin’?” Locke called, releasing Terra’s hand in favor of jogging up to the king.

“You’re lucky you showed up when you did, or else you would have had to wait while I finished up repairs down in the engine room.” The king rose and stretched like a cat with his hands high above his head. He sat his bit of machine and tool down on the step before pulling Locke into a tight hug that nearly hauled Locke off his feet.

From over Locke’s shoulder, Edgar saw Terra silently approaching. Edgar motioned for his guards to leave the room with his hand.

“Would this be the young woman I’ve heard so much about?” he asked, to which Locke nodded as he pulled away from the embrace.

“Edgar, this is Terra.” Locke gestured to her as he spoke.

Before Terra could speak, Edgar dropped to one knee and took her right hand gently in his, “My lady, I am pleased to make your acquaintance. I am King Edgar of Figaro, and I offer you my castle as a refuge.” He accented his speech with a kiss to the back of her hand before rising from his knee. She did not notice Locke stifling a snort at this display.

“Thank you, your grace,” she replied, trying to keep the surprise out of her voice. Her worries of being thrown into a dungeon faded after receiving such a cordial greeting. Surely a king wouldn’t throw somebody into the dungeon right after kissing their hand.

“I wonder if it’s normal for a king to drop to his knee for a lady…”

The king still held her hand as Locke moved to remove Terra’s bandana from her hair.

“Hey, Locke, don’t-“ Terra protested for fear of the king reacting negatively. But Locke’s hands undid the knot quickly and he plucked the bandana from her head.

Edgar’s dark blue eyes widened upon seeing her hair as it flopped back to where the curls naturally rested, but instead of the reaction she had expected, he took a curl from the long bangs framing her face and examined it in awe.

“Arcell wasn’t kidding…” he breathed so low that she could barely hear the words.

“Yep, she’s the real deal, Eddy.”

Edgar dropped her lock of hair and hand, and put his hands behind his back as he took a few steps away, “So, you’re an Imperial soldier? Worry not! My kingdom and the Empire are allies.” His demeanor changed so abruptly that Terra blinked hard a couple of times to be sure that she was still looking at the same tall, golden-blond king from before. He was now all business as he whispered something to Locke with a sidelong glance at her.

Locke nodded briefly and grabbed Terra’s hand, “Well, now that introductions are outta the way, how’s about you and me go find some grub?” Terra nodded vigorously despite herself.

Losing his air of all business, Edgar stepped closer again, “I think that was an enthusiastic ‘yes,’ Locke. I’ll join you two as well. Breakfast should be ready by now.” Terra gave Edgar a sheepish smile as she agreed to their plan.

Edgar flipped his long ribboned ponytail over his shoulder and offered Terra his arm as the trio set off down to the double doors.

“Perhaps eating in the private dining room would be best for us. What do you think, Locke?” the king opened the door for them with his free hand and led the way into the grand hall.

“Yeah, we have some things we need to discuss, Kingy.”

The group made their way amiably down a side hall adorned with handsome portraits of who had to have been past rulers, and through a set of red velvet curtains in a small alcove. The passageway concealed behind the curtains was dark and narrow, and the ceiling was low enough that Edgar had to crouch down to avoid bumping his head. Terra stuck close to Edgar and Locke as they walked in silence, but they soon came to a wooden door that Terra would have missed if she wandered the passage on her own. The king opened the door to reveal a room which looked very comfortable.

There was a brightly lit chandelier hanging from the ceiling above the long wooden table, and more crimson tapestries hung from the stone walls around the room. Edgar detached from Terra to pull on a rope that hung down from a pulley in the corner.

Within moments, servants appeared before them in a line and bowed deeply before the king.

“Good morning, my king. What would you and your guests prefer to dine on this fine morning?” An elderly butler inquired, stepping forward with another bow.

“Bring out anything at all! Perhaps a bit of everything fit for breakfast so that my guests can take their pick.” Edgar replied brightly. The servants bowed again and hurried off into a side entrance to the kitchens.

“What was that hall we just came out of?” Terra asked, eyeing the door behind them curiously. She saw other doors in the room too, and wondered where they all led.

“That was just a quicker way to this dining room, my dear. I thought it would be best to be speedy, for you and Locke must be famished after all of that traveling you’ve done.” Edgar replied with a wide smile as he went to a cushioned chair at the table. Locke went around to the other side so that he could take a seat opposite the king, and Terra did the same and sat down to Locke’s left.

Terra picked up a tall glass at her place and inspected it as her companions started talking. There were three different lengths of forks on one side of her plate, and she tried to remember if there was supposed to be any significance to this.

Edgar’s tone, however, drew Terra out of her thoughts, “So, my reports from the scouts were correct. The Imperials are still in the area.”

“Yep,” was Locke’s reply, “Terra took down two men and their war hounds when they tried to ambush us in the marsh one night.”

“Oh really? How so?” Edgar turned to look at Terra, waiting politely for her explanation as he folded his hands in front of him on the table.

Her fingers played with a spoon and her eyes remained down, “I set them on fire.”

Edgar’s eyebrows rose, “Did you happen to throw a lantern at them?”

Terra shook her head, and with a glance at Locke, who was giving her an encouraging smile, said, “No, I cast a spell on them. They would have caught up with us otherwise, so I had to use my magic.” First Locke exposed her odd hair color to the king, and now he wanted to tell him about her magic. She hoped he knew what he was getting them into.

“Really?” Edgar’s eyebrows rose more if that was even possible. “Could you show me? I’ve never actually seen magic before. I thought that it had vanished after the War of the Magi.” His mouth was tight as if he was trying to keep from smiling or saying more.

Terra saw that the dining table had fresh unlit candles lined down the middle and decided that she could show him with those. So, she concentrated for a few seconds on flicking a spell onto each of the wicks, and then they were burning brightly without any smoke issuing from their flames.

“Amazing,” was Edgar’s only response as he pulled one of the candleholders closer to him to inspect the blazes.

“I didn’t know you could do that without using your hands,” Locke clapped his hands together a few times in praise.

Before the three could continue their conversation, the servants returned to the dining room, each pushing a metal cart in front of them bearing different dishes of food and bottles of drink.

The servants did not seem to notice the candles glowing brightly as they placed the dishes, jugs, and bottles on the table in a neat arrangement that allowed each guest to reach the food with ease. Edgar smiled and said his thanks as the last plate was placed, and the servants left the room promptly.

“You know, it’s nice to have candles burning without any smoke coming from them. It makes the whole room so stuffy after a while, otherwise,” Edgar said with a smile. He poured himself a glass full of something purple from the nearest jug.

Locke started piling biscuits and potatoes on his plate at a rapid rate, “I wonder what it must feel like to use magic.” Locke spoke with his mouth full because Edgar gave him a pointed frown.

When Edgar’s eyes trailed back to Terra, she shifted her gaze away quickly to the bowl of brown gravy directly in front of her plate. She busied herself with putting a bit of each different dish within reach on to her plate so she could find out which foods she liked the most.

“Do you happen to have any memory of how you came by such a gift, Terra?” the king’s voice was soft and measured over Locke’s loud chewing.

Her hand froze for a second at the teakettle’s handle, but she continued her act of pouring a cup of tea. The tea had a dark red color in her cup, and she decided to pour some cream into it after tasting it with her spoon.

“No, I don’t remember anything at all about my magic. It feels like something that is as much a part of me as my arms or legs.” Terra paused to take a sip and eye Edgar over the rim of the cup. He was watching her as he took a drink from his glass, but she did not look away that time.

“Has anything been coming back to you, though? Any memories at all?”

Locke swallowed his current mouthful of potato and stopped Terra from replying, “She only remembers small things, Ed, like what kind of apples she likes.”

That was a lie. Terra glanced at Locke for a moment and saw that he was staring down Edgar with an intensity she had not yet seen. 

She figured that Locke had to have a reason for lying to Edgar about that and resumed picking apart her biscuit to dip into the gravy. The rich flavor on her tongue made her let out a pleased squeak and broke the men’s staring contest. Locke showed her that she could pour some gravy on top of her biscuits instead of dipping them in the tureen.

The conversation turned back to the Imperials in the Figaroan kingdom after that, and Terra was quite pleased with all of the foods she ate as she listened.

“They have been stopping the coal trains in the mountains at each fueling station, too, besides looking for us,” said Locke through a mouthful of porridge after finishing his previous dish.

“Gods, man, use a napkin!” Edgar tossed one at Locke’s head while looking up from his bacon. Locke snatched the napkin out of the air nimbly with his free hand and wiped at the porridge he had dribbled onto the tablecloth.

“Anyways,” Locke continued, “it seems like the Empire is just doing what they wish up here. I mean, that’s kind of what they normally do when they send troops anywhere, but don’t they send ambassadors to you first before barging in? Feels kinda like they’re treating the mighty kingdom of Figaro like it’s Maranda.”

“This is the first time since the alliance was created that the Emperor hasn’t sent somebody beforehand. Yes, it is merely a nicety, but to neglect to do so after over twenty years?” He let the question hang as he took a bite of his toast. “I must say that I do indeed feel slighted!” Edgar gave them a wry smile. He opened his navy blue coat and extracted a rolled-up bit of parchment from an inside pocket. Edgar unrolled the paper and set candles on each edge to keep it flat.

Upon looking closer at the paper, Terra could make out different brown and green shapes on a background of blue with writing all over the page in black ink. Flashes of the insides of tents with a person pointing at different places on a map tacked to the supporting beams burned in her mind. But instead of immediately telling Locke what she had remembered, Terra kept quiet in favor of hearing what Edgar was saying.

The king pointed at a place on the coast south of a yellow area on the map that was supposed to be Figaro desert. “This is where the troops are docked.”

“Well, that makes a lot of sense. They can patrol from different directions,” Locke grimaced. “Do you know how long they’ve been hanging out down there?”

“From what my men have told me, the Empire has been docked in my kingdom for about eight or nine days now.” Edgar downed a cup of tea quickly with a scowl. “I have a good idea of who is leading this expedition north. Only one of the Imperial generals would do as they please in foreign lands without at least sending a pleasantry letter.”

“Are you going to do anything about them?” Terra asked quietly, her biscuits lay forgotten.

Edgar gave her a pleased smile and proceeded to yank out a pad of paper from another pocket hidden inside of his coat and a pen with black ink. “I will show you what I intend to do!” He started writing quickly over the blank page. “I’m going to write a politely confused letter to the leader of this recent Imperial excursion and invite them for tea.”

Edgar signed off the note with a flourishing hand that must have had the motions down to muscle memory. He stood from his seat and went to a corner of the room and pulled on a rope hidden behind a wine-colored tapestry. As he returned to his seat, a servant came into the room swiftly.

"You summoned me, your grace?" the servant asked, bowing his head deeply as he spoke. 

"Yes, please deliver this letter to General Kefka as soon as possible. His ship is docked south of the desert near the caves." Edgar folded the note a few times and handed it off to the servant with a smile. 

"Of course, your grace. Would you like me to bring one of your special service members with me on this errand?" 

"That sounds like a good idea, thank you. Use some chocobos from the stables as well." The servant bowed at this and pocketed the letter in his coat before leaving the room. 


Locke’s long, drawn-out details of the castle’s hospitality were not exaggerations, as Terra had suspected previously. She would have to thank him for briefing her about the legion of maids later, or she would have reacted like an alley cat thrown in a bucket of ice-cold water when the women in matching soft red uniforms with crisp white aprons practically carried her into the big round steaming bathtub.

The water was hot, but not scalding, and the soaps and oils they used to scrub the grime of travel from her skin smelled heavenly. Terra tried to dispatch the maids so she could wash herself but only managed to scrub herself with a cloth while a couple of happy maids rubbed at her scalp and admired her unique hair color. The remaining maids busied themselves with cleaning and mending Terra’s clothes with quick efficiency.

“Goodness, is this shade popular down on the Southern Continent these days?” one maid asked, working the soap into her curls with a vengeance.

“Such a lovely color, and it brings out your eyes, Lady Terra!” With that, they dumped a bucket of warm water over her head to rinse the soap out of her hair. Terra sputtered water out of her nose and tried to smile appreciatively as the maids helped her stand and wrap big towels around her body and head.

“Thank you very much,” Terra was unsure of what else she should say to them. She wanted to get dressed and be left with her thoughts for a while, but the maids weren’t having it.

Before the maids set to work on drying her hair and brushing out the snarls, a smooth yet firm voice called out, "Good gracious girls, leave the poor gal alone! I think she can brush her hair."

Terra peered around the bedroom as she stepped out of the bathroom and saw an older woman dressed in a fine red dress, like the maids, but with lace around her collar and cuffs making her way calmly to one of the cushioned chairs by the fireplace. The maids halted at once upon hearing the new woman's voice and bowed their heads as if they were children being scolded.

"It's not like she's preparing for a royal supper or anything like that, so stop acting as if she were," the woman sank into her chair gracefully as she spoke. Her tone was not at all harsh, and she smiled at Terra when she met eyes with her. 

The maids bowed again at this and gathered up their washing things to leave.

"Sorry, Madam, "one maid explained, "King Edgar asked us to see to Lady Terra. He wanted us to prepare her properly like a queen."

"Yes, he was very specific about that," another piped in with a small smile. 

The woman rubbed at her temples and shook her head. "Gods, it sounds as if he's going to try to wine and dine her later."

"Perhaps he only wanted to show the hospitality of Figaro since she's here with Mister Cole?" 

"No matter, I'll attend to Lady Terra for now, girls. Go on about your other duties, please." she waved them off and turned to Terra who was rubbing one of the thick towels through her hair by the bed where her clothes were laid out. 

"I'm sorry, but who are you, ma'am?" Terra asked, hoping she wouldn't come off as rude. 

"No need to be sorry, dear. Call me Matron. It's what I am, after all." As she saw Terra's curious look, Matron continued, "I take care of the king and the more domestic side of his castle since he doesn't have his mother around to do it anymore. I've been around since the time of the boys' father coming of age for the throne."

"Wait, 'boys?' Does that mean that Edgar has a brother?" Terra pulled on her underclothes, freshly cleaned, and her dress behind the dressing screen. Her head poked out at the side, looking to Matron for an answer. 

Matron sat a large basket on her lap and dug through it, "Why yes, haven't you heard from Mister Cole about it yet?"

Terra shook her head before she went back behind the screen to pull on her mended stockings and boots. 

"That's surprising. Mister Cole loves to jabber on like a parrot. But yes, the king does have a younger twin. His name's Sabin." Matron brought out some new underclothes and stockings from the depths of the basket for Terra to look over. 

Terra came out and sat in the chair opposite Matron, taking in the older woman's laugh lines, her tightly pulled-back gray hair, and kind eyes so she wouldn't forget a detail later on. 

"Here, the king asked me to bring you some new clothes for your travels. He suspected that with recent events, you may not have many sets of clothes in that pack of yours." She showed Terra each item and let her choose whichever she liked best to take with her. Terra chose three sets of white stockings, five sets of underclothes, and a light pink cloak, once this was finished, Matron pulled out a measuring tape and asked Terra to stand while she measured Terra's body for a new dress.

"Would you like a dress in a similar style to the one you're wearing now?" Matron asked as she scribbled down the numbers on a scrap of paper.

"Yes, please. Thank you for all of this; you're all being so kind to me." Terra moved sideways for Matron to measure her sides from under her armpit down to her knees. 

"It's no problem at all, dear. I enjoy having a young lady to look after." Terra looked about the room as Matron worked, noticing the finely carved furniture, the bright knick-knacks lining the shelf above the fireplace, and the intricate patterns woven into the rugs on the floor.

"So, what happened to Sabin? Is he here in the castle, too?" Terra asked once Matron was finished. 

Matron shook her head, "No, sadly. The boy left the castle about ten years ago after their father died. Couldn't stand the way everybody was acting on the king's deathbed. We haven't seen him since."

"I hope he's alright, wherever he is," Terra said, to which Matron agreed heartily. 


“Figaro doesn’t mess around when they get wind of allies in their kingdom, do they?

“Nope, though I don’t blame them, what with all that’s been happening as of late.”

“It’s a bit strange though, compared to Maranda and all.”

“You shouldn’t compare the kingdom of Figaro to a little hole in the wall with a couple of nobles running everything. Completely different attitudes.”

Three suits of special Magitek armor made their way to Figaro castle after having received a letter from the king. They were moving quickly over the desert sands and could see a faint dark blob on the horizon line that transformed into the tall stone walls that surrounded Figaro castle as the small group got closer.

“Would you two shut your noise holes back there, or should I do it for you?” their superior officer up ahead snapped.

Instead of replying, the two Imperial soldiers clammed up and exchanged glances from their cockpits. They knew better than to reply, even with a “yes sir!,” with General Kefka in the mood he was in that day.

The soldiers kept working the buttons and levers of their suits as they walked along through the desert. Warm air was pushed back out with a new ventilation system designed recently to keep the suits cool. Not only did this system keep the armor from overheating, which was a big problem when they were first designed and tested in hotter climates, but it also helped the soldiers within focus more comfortably and keep from dying of heatstroke.

“Look alert, men. We’re approaching the castle gates,” Kefka shouted after a few minutes of quiet travel, causing both of his men to jump at his sudden announcement.

“Yes sir!” they replied in unison. 

Men in dark green uniforms on chocoback could be seen patrolling the gates, and soon the high-flying Figaroan flags were visible.

“Excuse me!” called one of the Figaroan guards as he trotted up to General Kefka.

“Sir Kefka, what on earth are you doing here already? We haven’t received a reply letter from you, as far as I know, and-”

“I’m here now, aren’t I? It is of the utmost importance that I have the attention of your king. Let King Edgar know that I need an audience with him immediately.” Kefka nearly ran over the guard as he hurried past in his armor before bringing it to an abrupt stop and hopped out of the cockpit with a flutter of his light red cape.

His two Imperial soldiers stopped their armor in line with their generals and climbed out to await further orders. Their Magitek suits were not far from the castle gates, and upon King Edgar’s request months before, they could not leave their armor in the chocobo stables any longer. The weapons put the large birds on edge.

The guard Kefka almost plowed over dismounted from his chocobo and scrambled into the castle to announce their arrival.

Four more of the Figaroan guard came up and greeted the Imperials, as custom commanded, but one lingered. He caught Kefka’s eye and nodded once before retreating to his assigned post.

General Kefka gave no sign of acknowledgment, and instead surveyed his men for a moment with a critical eye.

“Adjust your coats and shirts, men. You don’t want to dishonor the Emperor by looking like mere wretches in the streets of Zozo, do you?” Kefka checked his dark gray uniform as he spoke, straightening his gold buttons and pins on his high collar.

A Figaroan guardsman emerged from the front entrance of the castle, “Pardon me, Sir Kefka, please follow me. His grace will see you once we notify him of your arrival." 


The castle courtyard was a tizzy of activity, as was usual around midday, what with the merchants shouting, somewhat aggressively at passersby to take a look at their wares, the children running around chasing each other or clinging to their mother's skirts, and the general noise of footsteps on stone. The whole affair was intensely exciting to witness, Terra found, as she and Locke wandered around the rows of merchant stalls at a leisurely pace. 

As they were passing one particular merchant stall, which had many different types of jewelry and oddments of fabric, the owner jumped up from his stool and shouted, "HEY! YOU!" The man pointed at Locke's head, causing the pair to stop, looking bewilderedly back and forth between each other and the merchant. 

Locke quirked his eyebrows up, "You talking to me?" Other people in the area stopped and turned in their direction at the sudden outburst.

"Yeah! You owe me a few hundred gil, ya thief!" The man's mustache nearly obscured his mouth, but only accentuated his frown all the more. He wiped at the sweat at his temple with his other hand, eyes livid.

"'Scuse me, sir, but you have to have me confused with somebody else..." And before Locke could finish his sentence, the merchant shouted that he remembered the vagrant who swiped three necklaces, a golden pocket watch, several earrings, and some rings the month before.

"You've got the same stupid bandanas tied around your head and the same dusty patched-up jacket! I know it's you!" The merchant was nearly hopping up and down as he shouted at Locke. Terra backed up a pace, nearly bumping into a blonde woman with two children who had stopped to watch the show. 

She heard Locke reply with an edge in his voice about how he wasn't a bloody thief, but the rest was lost to her as she saw a sudden break in the crowd and a Figaroan guardsman sprinting towards the main doors leading into the castle. 

Locke grabbed Terra's hand and brought her back into the conversation, "Isn't that right, huh? I was with you last month! I wasn't even here to steal anything!" even though she was still watching the guard as he disappeared into the doors. Locke followed her line of sight and then whipped his head back in the other direction towards where the guard had come from. 

"Fuck." He muttered, ignoring the merchant's boisterous claims, and dug a hand into his jeans pocket. 

He withdrew a leather purse and threw it at the merchant's face before pulling Terra along after him into the crowd. 

"You've got a knife or two on ya, right, Ter?" Locke asked loud enough to be heard over the clamor that soon came over the crowds in the marketplace. 

"Yes," came her reply as Locke slid a hidden dagger from the cuff of his glove into his palm just in case. 

Locke led Terra so quickly through the market that she could only see glimpses of what they were running from. People's faces and chocobo beaks got in the way of the very familiar gray uniform making its way through the middle of the courtyard. Two brown uniformed men followed in his wake with matching helmets that grazed the tops of their eyes. 

Terra's heart flopped around in her chest painfully.

Then they were in a small alcove with cold stone walls and the din of the marketplace on the other side of the door. 


Edgar sat with his legs crossed on his throne waiting for his guests to be announced. Usually, when he would send a note to General Kefka or Leo, or even to the Emperor himself, he would receive a reply with an estimated time of arrival, as was one of the agreed-upon conditions of the alliance between Figaro and the Empire. Meetings should be announced to both sides to avoid trouble. Despite what was known about Kefka's behavior, he was always careful about keeping to the rules. This sudden change was unsettling. 

The large doors opened, "King Edgar, General Kefka, and two of his soldiers request an audience with you." His guard bowed a bit and before Edgar could even so much as respond to the request, in came Kefka. 

Edgar's guard was pushed to the side in the process, and shouted, "Sir, you cannot just enter the throne room without permission!" as he staggered into the side of the door. 

"It must be extremely important if the good general cannot wait," Edgar gestured for his guards to come into the throne room as well. 

Kefka and his soldiers continued in as if they did not hear anything at all and came to a stop a few paces from the steps leading to the thrones. Kefka did not drop to one knee as was the custom, nor did his men. 

"King Edgar, we need to speak about something very important." Kefka looked at Edgar right in the eyes as he spoke.

"Why yes, we do. Starting with the matter of why you have come into my kingdom without announcing yourselves first, or even asking permission. We have an alliance." 

Kefka sneered at this, "We have our reasons." 

"I'm sure you do. And I would be delighted to hear them!" Edgar smiled his Figaro smile and rested his chin in his hand, waiting. 

"Before I explain, may I ask if anybody in your castle has seen a girl who escaped from us recently?" Kefka's face dropped its sneer and became serious. 

"Oh, a girl, you say?" Edgar rose and rubbed his chin in thought. "There are so many girls here that it would be easier to go count all of the grains of sand in the desert! Perhaps you could describe this girl to me over a cup of tea? You and your men must have had a long journey and you must be parched! How about we retire to one of my tearooms while your men join mine in the dining room for refreshments?" 

"Fine," came Kefka's response. Edgar walked up to one of his guards and asked him to show Kefka's soldiers to the dining room. 

“Now, if you will be so kind as to follow me, General?” Edgar looked at Kefka as he said this and proceeded to lead him out of the throne room by way of a curtained doorway.

The passage led to a cozy tearoom with a small fireplace which was not currently lit, and several squashy armchairs in shades of red and green.

Edgar pulled a rope in the corner of the room for a servant and invited Kefka to sit wherever he liked. But Kefka did not sit down just yet. He stood erect with his arms folded across his chest, his gray eyes flitting from the brass candle holders fitted into the stonewalls to the doilies resting on the polished coffee table standing between the armchairs.

The same elderly servant who served the king and his guests breakfast earlier in the day entered the room with a deep bow, but not without a glance at the general.

“My liege,” the butler said, awaiting orders.

“General Kefka and I would like the tea tray to be brought,” Edgar sank into one of the green armchairs as he spoke.

“Yes, Your Grace,” the butler turned to General Kefka and asked if he had any special requests.

“No, thank you,” Kefka replied stiffly, not even looking at the butler.

Once the servant bowed again and left the tearoom, Kefka spoke before Edgar could implore him to take a seat as well.

“Did any of your spies or guards see the girl or not?” Kefka’s eyes bored into Edgar’s, making it very hard for the king to look away.

“I could do with a description of this girl, General,” Edgar replied cooly.

This seemed to make Kefka stand even more rigid. “She would stand out quite a bit. Trust me on that.”

“I wonder what that means! Is the girl taller than me? Does she have big yellow fangs jutting out of her mouth?” Edgar let out a bit of a laugh before leaning towards Kefka and smiling his Figaro smile again.

“Or is she the Imperial Witch who I’ve heard so very much about? You know the rumors, I’m sure. Where she torched fifty of her fellow soldiers within a few moments with real magic. Not just that Magitek you all have been using.” 


Locke and Terra moved as quietly as they could through the small tunnel and soon the sounds from the marketplace faded completely. Locke seemed to know his way around the tunnels well, and yet Terra's heart thudded hard in her chest, making her feel queasy. Ever since she saw that specific uniform, she felt cold. She tried to remember anything at all as to why, but her mind drew up empty. 

The tunnel was dark and very quiet as they went along, and as they passed around a bend to the left, Terra heard something nearby. She stopped, causing Locke's hand to jerk as he tried stepping forward.

"What's up?" he whispered back.

"Did you hear that?" she replied, listening hard. She felt Locke crouch closer to her, listening. 

"...Witch...here..." 

"There!" Terra hissed at Locke, squeezing his hand harder. 

"Yeah, I heard it that time," Locke replied as if distracted. Terra could see the darker shape of his head crane around. 

"We must be near one of the guards' dining rooms or something. Knowing Ed, he's probably got his guards having drinks with Kefka's men." 

Locke made to continue moving along the tunnel, tugging Terra gently along with him, "Wouldn't King Edgar want to watch all of Kefka's group?"

"Well, he is. Edgar's guards all answer directly to him. He has them all watching each other too to hold them all accountable," Locke led her around another bend in the tunnel to the right, taking light steps like a cat. "And sure, there can be problems now and then. Whenever Edgar gets new guardsmen in from South Figaro, he has to break them in and all that. But he hasn't had trouble with his guards lying or anything bad like that in about ten years since he first took the throne. Then again, back then, there were other problems going on anyways."

Before Locke could continue explaining, they heard another noise, this time, louder. Glasses clanked against each other somewhere nearby, and a few men cheered a toast in unison. 

Locke paused, "Ah! Here we go," he let go of Terra's hand and from what she could make out in the darkness, he began brushing his hands over the cold stone walls, feeling for something.

"Locke? Where are we?" Terra watched his general form while she crossed her arms over her chest and leaned her side against the wall. 

"If I can find the switch hidden around here somewhere, then we can listen in on what's going on with the Imperials and Ed's guards," he whispered, still running his hands from the short ceiling to the ground below, searching for the small switch about as small and thin as a candle wick. 

But Terra's attention went from watching Locke to another sound off in the distance behind them. 

"Got it!" Locke exclaimed in a whisper. His ring finger pushed back the switch and allowed one of the stones in the wall to pull up about an inch on their side of the wall. More sounds rushed out of the crack to greet them. Terra ignored the impulse to go investigate the odd sound in the distance and came to crouch next to Locke. 

"'S good ale you've got here!" a deep voice sighed.

"Thank you kindly. Your Vectorian ale is impeccable, though!" another voice answered.

"So, how're the girls around these parts? I hear the king keeps a whole coop full of the sweetest birds!"

"Oh, there are plenty of lovely girls around here. So many to choose from."

"The king danced with over thirty young ladies at the last ball. Such a lucky man," a new voice chuckled.

A chair scratched along the floor as if being pushed back from a table, "I'll be back in a jiffy. Need to find a washroom." One of the men called out directions from his seat, to which the other man grunted in acknowledgment as his footsteps retreated from the room.

"At least the Imperials aren't acting like they usually do..." Locke muttered.

"Terra? We need to go ahead and find a hiding spot until the Imperials leave," Locke said softly with his ear still at the opening in the wall. When he didn't hear her usual soft reply, he jerked his head away from the spot. 

"Terra?" 


Terra slipped away quietly down to the end of the dim passage while Locke was still listening to the chatter coming from the hole in the wall. She heard odd sounds that were not Locke's muttered comments to himself about the Imperials being arrogant normally and decided to investigate, listening hard for more of those strange sounds. Her curiosity pushed her unease and better judgment to the wayside, and she figured that after a while, she could go back to Locke without any trouble. She felt her way along the stones, and out of nowhere, her hand bumped into a cold, smooth, rounded object jutting out of the wall. 

"What's this?" she whispered to herself, running her hand down along with it to where it disappeared into the stone floor. She realized that it must be one of those odd steel pipes she had seen around the castle when she and Locke were wandering around after her bath. 

She crept along slowly, and the further she went, she started hearing metal grinding on metal coming from the walls all around her. The noises got louder and louder, and she was so absorbed in feeling her way along and listening that she bumped face-first into another wall. 

"Ow..." she rubbed at her nose, which got the worst of it, "wait, this feels different." Terra ran her hands over the new wall in front of her and felt that it wasn't stone at all, but some sort of metal with what had to be a door handle. She tugged at it and the heavy thing opened slowly with a low squeak that she hoped nobody could hear over the mechanical grinding and groaning coming from the walls. Terra peered in through the small opening, being careful to avoid somebody catching her, and saw metal bars, buckets containing foul-smelling contents, and men. There was a Figaroan guard seated at a desk across the large room by a set of high stairs writing in a thin book. 

"UGH. When's lunch?!" a bearded man in a ragged shirt and pants shouted at the guard. A few of the other men behind the iron bars going from the ceiling into the floor started agreeing and asking the question over and over with a swear or two thrown in. 

"And maybe we could use a bath, you bastard!" another man called, kicking his feet at the bars. This man had on clothes that reminded Terra of what she had seen people in Narshe wearing: the dark blue shirt with a high collar, leather gloves with cuffs that went all the way to his elbows, coarse brown trousers, and high boots with fur lining the tops. In a pile in the front corner of his cell was a heavy ashy gray fur coat, matching cloak, and what looked like an enormous wolf's head. 

"Yeah! Lone Wolf has a point! I thought I was just smelling the shit pots, but the gross smell in my cell is me! Eugh!!" the scrub in the cell next to Lone Wolf added to the guard. He raised an arm and sniffed at his armpit with a scrunched-up face and plopped down onto the stone floor with some grumbles to himself. 

"Alright, alright!" The guard answered finally after closing his book and setting down his pen. He stood and walked through the walkway in between the two rows of prison cells along the walls, eyeing each of the inmates. 

"It is lunchtime, so I'll go grab your food. And I'll ask the maids to set up some wash basins for you and have them haul off those chamber pots." With that, the guard walked away and up the staircase, and Terra heard the sound of a door closing heavily. 

Terra watched the prisoners for a few moments longer, debating with herself whether or not she should retrace her steps back to Locke. There was a chance that she'd get lost though, what with the different passages leading off in different directions. She was starting to see why Locke liked exploring so much because of all of the interesting things to be found.

"Maybe it'll be easier to go out the way the guard left. At least that way I can see where I'm going," she gulped hard, and opened the big door some more with a loud creak that echoed off the walls and made nearly all of the prisoners jump. She knew that Locke wanted to keep her hidden from the Imperials, but that wouldn't do much good if she was hidden and lost and couldn't find him again.

As she slipped out, careful not to let her bag get caught, she was met with a chorus of "What the hell?!" from the prisoners.

"Where'd you come from?"

"Hey, help us get out of here, beautiful! C'mon!"

Some of the prisoners were reaching towards Terra in between the bars of their cells, waving their arms around and yelling for her to help them out as she scurried past, hoping that none of them would grab hold of her ponytail. She hurried up the stairs, ran out of the door, and ended up in one of the corridors of the castle lined with suits of armor and paintings hanging on the walls. 

Terra jogged as quietly as she could down the corridor before anybody came along to see her. 


Near a brightly painted scene of a famous opera out of Jidoor, which was a gift for the late queen from what Locke could remember, was a Figaroan guardsman, seemingly on watch in the corridor, despite there not being any other guards present.

The guards usually operated on a sort of buddy system unless one of the captains was accompanying the king, Chancellor, or some other important person around.

But this guard was not a captain or even one of the section leaders who managed guards in their assigned portion of the castle. He only had the standard crimson and green uniform without all of the golden shiny embellishments that showed rank and accomplishments. 

Locke peered out from behind the heavy tapestry, careful not to move it too much so he wouldn't catch the eye of the guard who was loitering, not even bothering to look alert. He saw that the man was the same guard who stopped him and Terra that morning, acting as if they were beggars from the streets.

"They really gotta keep on training this guy...looks like he's nearly leaning against that painting!" Locke thought, shaking his head in a tutting manner.

Locke slipped his head back behind the tapestry when he saw one of the Imperials turn down the corridor heading their way. Thankfully it wasn't Kefka.

Instead of hearing the heavy footsteps pass on by after a few moments like Locke expected, they stopped. Locke wondered if the Imperial was about to pick a fight. 

"Is she here?" came a whisper.

"Yes, I saw her this morning. A scrub with brown hair and bandanas tied around his head brought her. She had a scarf on her head to hide her hair, but it was definitely her," was the response.

Locke leaned closer from his spot, straining to hear better.

"Any ideas about where the King's hiding her?" the Imperial spoke lower, most likely covering his mouth with a hand. 

"Probably in the engine rooms below; take the stairs down across from the dungeon. The King's touchy about who goes down there, so there's probably a nook or cranny he stuffed the Witch in."

Locke chanced leaning a bit closer to the edge of the tapestry to see the pair and caught a shared nod before the Imperial strode away down the corridor, his steps echoing louder this time. The guard waited by the painting until the Imperial turned the corner before going off in the opposite direction. 

After slipping out from his hiding place, Locke took off in the direction the Imperial went, trying to keep his steps as quiet as he could, "Shit! Gotta find Ter fast!" 


Small oil lamps flickered their light from their dome-shaped fixtures in the stone walls as the Imperial moved as quietly as he could through the first engine room he found while he had been searching the castle for the correct entrance. Moving silently was nearly impossible due to the steel plates bolted down to the floor, but the general hum of the chugging machines hid his footsteps for the most part. 

The Imperial had made it past the first landing where huge stone columns were fit into the walls and odd-looking gages pointed their thin arms at numbers in the glass spheres. As soon as he crept down the circular steel staircase, he was overcome with the smell of motor oil and fuel. If he could make his way down to the lower floors of the engine rooms, perhaps he could find the girl. 

"Well, well, well. What is an Imperial soldier doing all the way down here in the engine rooms, hm?" A gruff engineer moved into the lantern light with his eyebrows high and an amused smile on his face.

The soldier immediately started backing away slowly, his left hand went to his belt, his eyes on the engineer.

"What business is it of yours?" the Imperial retorted, the back of his tall brown booted foot coming into contact with the side of one of the many enormous machines moaning and vibrating low as if it were a slumbering beast having a fitful dream. He stopped, knowing that he was cornered and worst of all: caught. 

"I'd say it's my business through and through, seeing as how I'm one of the King's top engineers." The man did not say this with a puffed-up chest, no, he said it with his eyes glinting dangerously. "And nobody is allowed down here without the King's permission." 

The engineer slid his arm out towards the wall nearest him and pressed a concealed button before the Imperial could say anything back, and within seconds an alarm bell started rattling off so loud it could be heard all over the castle. 

Then the soldier drew out a handgun and pulled the trigger right as thundering footsteps could be heard coming towards the engine room along with the alarm bells. The engineer's face exploded, and what was left of his body fell heavily backward onto the metal flooring. 

"CARTRIGHT!" The Figaroan guardsmen reached the Imperial soldier a moment after the engineer's blood started pooling around where his neck should have been.

Aim, fire. Aim, fire. The Imperial went into a sort of haze as he mechanically aimed and fired his gun at two of the guardsmen. He caught one in the neck, causing his windpipe to be partially exposed as the side of his jaw and ear slopped against the wall, and the other guard caught a bullet in the left part of his chest. But the Imperial soldier could not see what happened next after he fired another round of bullets since the rest of the Figaroan guardsmen just outright tackled him to the floor. 

One guard wrenched the gun from his hand, cocked it, and pushed the opening right up to the side of his temple.

"You try anything else, and I blow your fucking head off. Got it?" 

The Imperial nodded quickly and went as limp as he could while the guards who were not bending over the dead men's remains grabbed onto him at different parts of his body and heaved him up. They dragged him up the staircase quickly, but they were not too careful with him because as they went along, the back of the Imperial's head banged against the handrail several times. White sparks fluttered behind his eyelids.

He did not see a new group of Figaroan guards rush downstairs to tend to the dead men. He did not see more of the first landing where switches and control panels were opened up to shut off the alarm bells. The Imperial soldier also did not feel the kicks and punches he received once the guards dropped him face-first on the floor once they entered the gatehouse. 


Edgar sipped at his tea lightly while he watched the good general watching him.

"I've heard that you're docked to the south near the caves leading to South Figaro," Edgar did not see any hint of a reaction from Kefka at this.

"Have you or any of your men gone there yet to visit? The inns are serving goose and duck now that they're in season. Very delicious, I hear," he continued, smiling as he swirled his tea around in the cup, careful not to slosh it over the side.

Kefka kept his face neutral as he reached for a couple of cookies from the tea tray. "No, we haven't gone there. Yet. Besides, those of us on the Southern continent prefer our own game, with all respect."

Edgar let out a kindly laugh, "Oh, isn't that the way of all lands? We each prefer what reminds us of home!"

Kefka did not laugh, or smile, or even politely grimace at Edgar's declaration. Instead, he put his cup and saucer down on the tray and briskly stood. Edgar's face remained calm, eyes directly on the general.

"You did not answer my question earlier, King Edgar."

"What do you mean? I believe I did-"

At this, Kefka rushed at Edgar, moving so quickly that Edgar's eyes delayed registering the general standing from his seat until Kefka was mere inches away from him. Kefka leaned down and brought his face in close to Edgar's, looking him straight in the eye as he grasped the arms of Edgar's chair, giving him no escape. 

"Is she here?" Kefka's voice was barely a whisper, his eyes glowering with a desperation Edgar had never seen from the general. His warm breath tickled Edgar's nose.

"No," Edgar replied, "Your little Witch Girl is not here. It's a shame you lost her, too. A wonder, that is, losing a girl under the control of a slave crown. Such a shame."

With a jerk, Kefka's left hand thrust through the air, the hand about to make contact with Edgar's jaw, when the king flinched. Or seemed to flinch.

In the next instant, Kefka did not feel skin or jawbone. His wrist was caught in Edgar's fist.

Edgar raised an eyebrow in that Figaro way of his, "Upset? A bit too close to home?" his grip tightened. "I believe you must declare a formal duel, at least, before attacking one of aristocracy or royalty. We are both gentlemen after all. Wouldn't want to embarrass Emperor Gestahl."

Kefka grimaced and spat in Edgar's face, causing the king to grunt in disgust. "Well, that was rude."

They both jumped when the alarm went off with a piercing ring.

Then the door burst open with a bang as a gaggle of Edgar's guardsmen flooded into the tea room, all with wild eyes and heaving chests.

"King Edgar! The engine room!" his guard captain nearly screamed, voice high, before the scene in front of them registered.

Edgar, still holding onto Kefka's arm, craned his head around to see his men, "What happened?"

The guards were flummoxed. They all spoke at once, asking what in the world was going on between the two, seeming to forget all about the engine room for the moment.

Kefka jerked his arm out of Edgar's grasp and backed away from the king a few paces, looking from Edgar to the men with a guarded expression. Three of Edgar’s guards rushed forward to pull Kefka away.

“What happened?” Edgar repeated as he stood. The alarm snapped off. He took a handkerchief from his pocket and quickly wiped Kefka’s spit from his nose.

The Chancellor took Edgar’s shoulder, pulling him along out of the room, leaving the remaining guardsmen to restrain Kefka’s hands behind his back with iron manacles.

“Cartright, sire! One of Kefka’s men shot him and a couple more,” to this Edgar’s face drained of color and he took off running to the engine rooms.

“Chancellor! Have the guards bring the Imperials to the courtyard! Round up everybody you can find!” Edgar called over his shoulder.

Soon the king sprinted out of the main wing of his castle and took a flight of stairs tucked in an out-of-the-way corner near the old maid’s chambers. This brought him down to one of his entrances into the lower workshops where he found several of his mechanics trying to bind up the gaping wounds on a fellow’s arm with industrial tape they usually used to temporarily close up cracks in the fuel pipes.

“Who’s hurt?” he shouted over the loud cranking of machinery. A mechanic bolted up from his knees where he was helping tend to the moaning man’s injuries.

“My liege! Three of our men are dead, two were wounded in the process of trying to shield the new boiler you installed from the bullets!”

Edgar hurried over to the man laid out on the floor, seeing that his left arm and shoulder got the worst of the shot where chunks of flesh were missing.

“None of our machines were hit during the fight, sire. Luckily,” the man continued.

“Alright. Where are the dead men, Al?” The king asked, still watching his men finish up binding the lacerations tight and secure. The chugging of the huge engines seemed to grow louder and louder in volume, causing Edgar’s words to be barely audible. But Al heard him and motioned in the direction of the offices where the walls were reinforced with sound-deafening metals and wood. The bodies were in Cartright’s office.

Edgar went inside and found the three dead men laid out on the floor side by side, two sets of eyes closed. A few piles of Cartright’s books and spare work boots had been moved to the edge of the room by the engineer’s desk where diagrams for the new heating systems lay splayed out by a mug of coffee gone cold.

Cartright, Neill, Lester. Cartright’s head was blown off completely and all that remained were crooked bits of flesh and windpipe poking out between his clavicles. Lester was missing most of his neck and jaw. Neill had a bullet hole going right through where his heart was.

Al followed him in, averting his eyes away from the bodies to his king. Before he could address Edgar, the king said, “Make sure to prepare these men for their burials after we finish with our special guests. Notify their families as soon as you can.”

Edgar turned and swept out of the room to stop by his own office. He grabbed his modified crossbow up from his midnight blue colored armchair, slipped some spare bolts and screws into his pants pocket, and stuffed his worn journal into his other pocket the best he could along with a few pencils. He glanced around the large room that he’d practically lived in for years for anything else. He noticed his half-built new invention on the bookshelf and decided against trying to stuff that on his person somewhere. He did, however, grab up a handful of bowstrings and a screwdriver. With another quick look, he left and went up to another engineer.

“Prepare a new tank of fuel for the back engine.” The engineer nodded and hurried away past where the injured were still being tended.

Edgar cleared his throat and boomed, “You’ve all done well! Stay at the ready and remember your duties to the castle!” He punched his fist into the air, and with that, he ran up the stairs to the main landing and pushed out to the courtyard where what looked like the majority of his guard waited at attention.

At the center of the yard, where the richest merchant’s stalls usually set up in the morning markets, was Kefka and his two men restrained and on their knees, with guns and crossbows aimed at them by Edgar’s captains, awaiting orders. One of the Imperials looked half-conscious, head lolling to one side all bruised up with blood dribbling out of his mouth. Edgar gripped the handle of his crossbow tight.

The king approached, fighting to keep himself as composed as he could. His guards watched and moved out of the way as he made his way over to the beaten-up Imperial. “Looks like you’re the one who somehow found his way into my engine rooms. How did that happen?”

Both Kefka and his other man looked at their comrade while he struggled to move his jaw, which was sitting at an odd angle, looking back at his general with desperation in his eyes. Kefka did not say anything.

“Tell me why,” Edgar knelt on one knee in front of the Imperial, looking him straight in the eyes, “Now.” He held up his crossbow to the man’s face, causing him to shudder out more blood from his mouth.

“Who told you how to get down there? It's not somewhere you accidentally end up on the way to the lavatory.” Edgar pulled back the trigger with his thumb with a loud pop.

“It was Sam! Your new guard!” The other Imperial shouted at them.

Then, the guardsmen behind Edgar started yelling and shoving amongst themselves, and when one particular guard tried heaving his way backward through the crowd, the other men around him pushed him back, blocking his escape. A captain broke away from his place in front of the prisoners and yanked the guard’s arm with him, earning a punch to the back of his head along with some slapping. But that did not deter the captain who continued forwards to his king and thrust the man to the ground roughly and kicked his back with a heavy booted foot.

Edgar stood and turned slowly, his crossbow still cocked, “Ah, so you’re our spy. Six months of waiting for your friends to arrive…”

“This pathetic kingdom is nothing against the Empire! Just another fly to swat down like Maranda!” The spy spat to which he received a painful jab in the ribs with the butt of the captain’s gun.

“It seems that my kingdom is more than a mere fly if you had to place a man on the inside,” the king turned back to face Kefka, “Seems as if you were going to pay us a visit whether recent events occurred or not.”

“Is the Witch here?” Kefka’s other man shouted. The Chancellor came up to Edgar’s left and shook his head at him. 


Terra ran through a set of doors she remembered led out to the courtyard panting, looking for her bandanaed friend. But just a few steps out, she stumbled into one of the Figaroan guardsmen, who yelped in surprise.

Everybody nearby heard their collision, and it took Terra a moment to register that nearly all the others in the courtyard were also guards. Who were all looking right at her.

“TERRA!” came Locke’s voice as he bounded out of the set of doors opposite her. Right as she saw him, he outright tackled her into a bear hug.

“Been looking all over for you!” Locked gasped into her hair as he squeezed her against him tight. “C’mon, we gotta…” he trailed off. The thief finally looked away from his mint-haired friend long enough to also notice that Edgar’s entire legion was clustered in the courtyard around them.

And through a break in the crowd was Edgar and Kefka.

Terra pushed herself into Locke’s arms and tried to hide herself as much as she could when her green eyes met a familiar set of cold gray ones. 

“Terra…my sweet little magic user…” the shivering voice echoed in her mind.

Kefka's eyes widened. She could not blink away from his gaze as a sudden bolt of lightning erupted out of Kefka’s body and blasted into the top of one of the rooftops with metal rotating fans. The fan spun out and fell into the crowd with an air-slicing shriek. More lightning struck into the crowd at random, hitting men and stone alike, and leaving scorch marks everywhere.

Kefka jerked up from the ground and blasted the irons around his wrists off with a flash, never looking away from Terra when Locke wrapped himself around her more to shield her from the strikes.

“Kefka! Stop this at once!” Edgar shouted, aiming his bow at the general’s head. The guards who were not still trying to restrain the other Imperials aimed their weapons at Kefka too.

“Give me the girl! She’s mine!” Kefka shrieked, causing more lightning to boom down and now balls of fire started to bubble out from his clenched fists. The fire whizzed around in red streaks, catching clothing and stone alike.

Edgar let loose a round of his arrows at Kefka, only to have them deflected by a flash of flame that swept along with the general’s arm to block his face. The king tried more rounds of arrows as his guards tried the same, but their attacks were blocked by more waves. The flames swelled out from Kefka, catching those closest to him. The other Imperials rushed out of the way and into the maddening crowd.

Streaks of fire rained down along with the lightning and crackled to life on every surface they touched and spread wildly.

A hand dragged Edgar away from Kefka right before his spell smashed into him and through the retreating chaos, “Run Ed!” Locke shouted over the ruckus of people crying out and running from the spells scorching everything in their path as Kefka screamed for Terra.

“Let me find the Chancellor first!” Edgar replied and pulled Locke and Terra with him, looking for the gold-embellished crimson helmet in the sea of plain green helmets and rising flames. The trio ended up near the far west edge of the courtyard where a short stone wall rose from the cobblestones. More lightning rained down from the sky with thunderous booms all around them haphazard.

Locke and Terra pressed themselves into a corner along the wall where it met with another wall which was part of a wing leading into the castle. The Chancellor scrambled over, sweating bullets and grasping a blackened smoking hole in his uniform.

“Sire! Run! I’ll engage the dive!”

Edgar agreed and motioned Locke and Terra over to join him as the Chancellor disappeared into the crowd heading to the main hall. The king pulled out a section of the stone wall and punched the blue button hidden beneath. The wall broke open and a set of stairs ripped out the side of the castle leading down to the dunes below.

Locke grinned, “Brilliant, Mister Inventor!” and led the way down.

“Head to the stables!” Edgar replied, holding Terra’s hand as he started to lead her down after Locke. A burst of fire and lightning crashed into the pair, throwing them off the side of the castle. Without thinking, Terra’s magic surged out of her and surrounded her and Edgar, causing the spell to break around them. They fell into the sand along with huge fragments of stone splashing sand up around them.

Terra jumped up first, stumbling, “Are you okay, Edgar?”

“Yes, now run!” the king flung himself up, glancing at his crossbow to make sure it wasn’t damaged and started running towards where Locke had disappeared.

 More bolts of lightning crashed around them, growing in intensity, blowing chunks of stone off the castle, and making the pair dodge around the debris as they ran.

Kefka’s screaming got louder as if he was getting closer. Another raging ball of fire shot down at Terra and followed them in an arc as they weaved away, feet slipping in the sand.

Terra cried out, hands clenched at her chest as she let loose a fire spell that exploded back at Kefka’s, causing both to crash into the ground with a shower of sparks.

Locke had reached the chocobo stables at the southern end of the castle first and was leading three of the enormous yellow birds with him as he slammed the doors shut.

The castle suddenly let out a deafening rumble from within, drowning out all the screaming and crashes from above.

Edgar mounted his bird, one hand still holding onto his crossbow while he adjusted the reins with his other. Locke and Terra followed suit and they didn’t even have to steer their chocobos in the right direction because the birds were so scared they took off from the castle with their feathers ruffled squawking with fear.

Terra held tight to the reins as she looked back at Figaro castle, and gasped when she realized that the huge mass of gray stone was sinking into the sands. Windows were closed, flags retreating from their poles, and the rumbling grew louder as the castle seemed to shudder and plunge faster.

She saw that the Magitek armor near the gates almost followed behind the castle into the sands, but were suddenly moving away quickly. The deep rumblings of the castle receded behind them as dunes spilled into the gaping hole the structure left in its wake.

“Holy shit!” Locke yelled, looking back at the castle, “Those assholes escaped!”

Three sets of Magitek armor were chugging after them, their leg structures not even sliding on the dunes.

“Let’s see if this will slow them down!” Edgar called back, pulling his chocobo over to the side of their group as they continued sprinting away through the dunes. He aimed his crossbow at the closest armor and fired a round of steel arrows at what he hoped was the head of one of the pilots. But a flash of lightning interrupted their flight and the Magitek armors plowed through the black smoke, unfazed.

Scenes flashed through Terra’s mind of handbooks, symbols engraved into buttons on a control panel. “We’ve got to get away! They have missiles!” she cried at her companions.

“We’re gonna try, Ter, don’t you worry!” Locke flashed her a grin as he kicked his heels into his chocobo’s sides. Terra mimicked him, and their birds jumped and ran faster, leaving clouds of sand flying up behind them.

A flash of lightning ricocheted off a dune at the right of Terra’s chocobo, causing the bird to screech and flail away.

“Get her! Get her! Get her!” shrieked Kefka at his soldiers. One of the Imperials pulled back a lever and out of the front of his armor shot a tek laser at the group.

Terra screamed as she felt the rush of energy flying at them and released a green wave of light which spread out into a half sphere behind them, shielding them from the beam.

“You can’t just scamper away from me, sweet Terra!” came Kefka’s shrill voice. Terra’s hands shook uncontrollably, heart hammering away. She knew he was getting closer and closer.

“You’re my plaything and I hate losing my toys!” the general screamed, accenting his exclamation with more lightning spells following the group. The wounded Imperial launched a series of tek missiles at the racing chocobos, the first missile blasting one of the men’s birds with a boom.

Locke was thrown forwards from his seat on his chocobo and he landed head-first into a large dune, rolling after his impact sideways. His steed was left smoking on the ground several yards back, “Uweeheehee! Look, men! Supper is already roasted for us!” Kefka cackled.

Edgar steered his bird over to Locke, yelling for Terra to keep going as he clamored down to pull Locke up onto his chocobo behind him. Locke was knocked out, but Edgar continued trying to drag his friend with him. The Imperials were advancing on them fast. Terra stopped and hopped down from her chocobo.

“Terra! What are you doing?! Run!” Edgar shouted, but Terra ignored him as she raised her hands, fingers spread. She inhaled the hot dry air of the desert around them, feeling the heat of the sun surge into her body, willing her hands to stop shaking long enough to-

BAM!

Her magic knocked her backward as a blaze of fire rushed out of her hands when she screamed “Fire!” at the top of her lungs.

The spell was trained at Kefka, whose machine took the brunt of the blast and exploded, flinging the general out of his cockpit high into the air. His men continued coming at Terra as her knees buckled out from under her and she fell to the ground, feeling drained completely after that last spell.

Edgar dropped Locke for the moment and fired his crossbow at the Imperials. He flicked his fingers at a button on the side near the main trigger to keep the arrows flying on their own, finally able to strike the soldiers. The steel arrows struck into the men’s faces, causing them to shout in pain. One tried ripping the shafts out of his neck, while the other finally slumped forward onto his controls, dead. Due to the lack of button pushing and lever control, the Magitek armors came to a stop after a few last stuttering steps.

The king snapped his crossbow off of its auto mode and sat it on the ground next to Locke. He wiped at his brow with his sleeve and slapped Locke softly, trying to get the man to wake up. “Come on, get up, Locke.”

Locke finally started to stir, coughing roughly. Edgar let out a sigh of relief before deciding that Locke should be fully conscious in a moment, so he went over to Terra. Her eyes were half open, watching the Magitek armors standing before them, her chest was heaving as she tried to catch her breath.

Edgar knelt by her side and placed a hand on her shoulder, “Do you think you can stand? I can get you a potion from Locke’s bag.” Terra struggled to try speaking, her breathing still labored as she tried to use her arm to prop herself up.

Locke finally sat up on his own, still coughing, and started rummaging through his pack, and pulled out a pair of small bottles filled with sparkling bright blue liquid. “Give her one of these, Ed.” Locke uncorked one bottle and tossed it down his throat while he held out the other for Edgar.

“Gods, how the fuck did you two manage to stop these?” Locke gestured at the armors nearby, seeing that both pilots were dead, bleeding all over themselves.

Edgar helped Terra drink her potion, “Thanks to our amazing Miss here, is how.” Terra sputtered at the sharp fizzing in her throat as the potion went down, and almost immediately felt like she was regaining her strength. She didn’t add anything to what the king said and tried standing up on shaky legs. Edgar held her by the arm and shoulders to help her keep her balance.

“Where’s that creep?” Locke stood up, scratching at his bandanas and hair roughly to shake the sand out. He went over to Terra and Edgar, “I guess my chocobo’s out of commission too if I remember right.”

“Yup, and I’m not sure where Kefka fell after Terra blasted his Magitek armor.” Edgar looked between his two companions over at their remaining chocobos, who were pressed together, feathers all ruffled, hiding behind a massive dune, watching them.

Locke looked past the two armors nearest them to the smoking pile of metal, hoping to see the body of the Imperial general not far away, but saw nothing through the shifting sands. “Damn, well I guess we better get a move on just in case he’s still around.”

Locke went over to the chocobos and gently pulled one back with him and stopped in front of Terra, “C’mon, you’re gonna ride with me!”

Notes:

Update 11/8/23: Moogle here! I did a bit of quick editing here too, nothing major to change. Also, a side note I don't think I've mentioned here before. One of my headcanons for Kefka is that he was a general for the Empire before getting promoted to Emperor Gestahl's top Magitek Knight/mage. After a certain horrible incident Kefka does later on, he gets to be "above" another certain general we all know and love. Thanks for reading!

Chapter 5: Unsafe Safe

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The sun was gradually drooping in the sky as Edgar, Locke, and Terra rode along on their chocobos through the Figaro desert heading southeast. The winds were picking up and rushed in between the dunes, blowing hot dry air and sand into their path and faces. Terra was glad that she could hide her face for the most part from the onslaught behind Locke.

Despite the potion she drank earlier, she still felt drained of energy in a way that made her mind drag its feet through the questions that buzzed around her mind. Questions of why the Empire was putting forth so much effort in chasing her from the forests outside Narshe to Figaro castle and possibly to where she was heading now with her new companions. It couldn't be merely because of her gift of magic because that man, Kefka, could use magic too. She sighed, resigning herself from the endless questions, and tried stuffing them away into a small chest in her head to be looked over when she didn't feel so sluggish.

Terra tightened her hold around Locke's waist and rested her forehead against the part of his back that wasn't covered by his bag hanging from his shoulders. She closed her eyes and listened to Locke and Edgar's conversation as they trotted atop the sands.

"I've got to send a few messages once we get to the closest village, Ed," said Locke over the sound of wind rushing past them.

"Yes, make sure to send word to Banon about what has happened," Edgar replied.

"There has to be more to the situation besides the Empire trying to get that frozen esper and losing a few soldiers in the process."

"Perhaps it has to do with its reaction to Terra…"

She felt Locke shift in his seat on the chocobo's back and kept quiet in hopes that the men would think she was asleep.

Locke and Edgar's conversation turned to how things in South Figaro had been the last time Locke passed through the city. The newspapers had articles on the Empire's movements on the Southern continent, and how they had taken over a city called Maranda with their youngest general leading the invasion.

"It's been about two weeks since I was last there. They've probably heard about the raid of Narshe by now," Locke explained. "Word can travel fast when they rely on the coal trains making their weekly shipments."

"Or when the lack of shipments spur questions." Edgar's voice sounded tight as if he was clenching his teeth.

"Yeah, if the trains are still running, it may take at least two or three days for word to spread about Kefka's assault on the castle."

Edgar sighed, "With my castle underground, there will be no way for supplies to reach the city."

The men fell silent, and they rode on in quiet for a while. Terra opened her eyes finally to see that the sky had gotten much darker and massive thunderheads were rolling their way east. Other clouds were enveloped in the brewing storm and spread like ink knocked over by a clumsy hand. The sandy horizon which seemed to go on forever abruptly ended and, in its place, came what looked like brittle brown bushes and dry grasses peeking through the slim valleys the dunes created.

Terra pulled her cheek away from Locke's jacket and peered over his shoulder, dodging the tails of his many bandanas flying out from their knots at the back of his head. They were quickly approaching a mountain range with sharp ragged peaks stretching into the skies.

"We're almost to the caves, Ter," Locke turned his head back so he could give her a grin. She gave him a small smile back. And he was right because, within the next few minutes of travel, the group reached a scrubby dried-out clearing before the mouth of a cave leading into the mountains.

"King Edgar!" A Figaroan guardsman sitting atop a chocobo was standing near the entrance of the cave and saluted in greeting as they approached.

"Hello Peters," Edgar replied as he nudged his chocobo to a stop in front of his guard and dismounted from his bird.

"What brings you here, Excellency? I did not receive word that you were traveling today." The guard noticed Locke and Terra as they came up beside Edgar and before he could ask further questions, the king held up a hand.

"Kefka has attacked the castle." The guard gaped.

"It's safe though!" piped in Locke as he slid down from his chocobo's back and turned to help Terra hop down.

Edgar nodded, "Yes, it dove down below the desert before any serious damage could be done, thankfully. I'm going with Mister Cole to see Banon at the Returner's hideout."

The guard bowed his head, "Is there any way that I can assist you, my liege?"

Locke busied himself with securing both his and Terra's packs to their shoulders in turn while Edgar answered, "Well, I would appreciate it greatly if you could take our chocobos to the spare stables. Poor things took quite a scare at Kefka's firework show." He patted his bird gently on its huge beak, to which it chirped and nuzzled its head into his hand.

Edgar rubbed his chin in thought before continuing, "Oh! Do you happen to have any provisions you could spare, Peters? I didn't have the chance to pack a bag. As you can see, I only have my pockets and crossbow!"

Peters jumped down from his saddle immediately, "Of course, my liege!" he unbuckled a leather satchel from the saddle and gave it to Edgar. Peters opened the main compartment and showed that it contained some food, skins of water, a few articles of clothing, and some medicines.

Edgar smiled, "I hope you have plenty for yourself."

"Oh yes! My saddlebags are stuffed full, sire! Please don't worry about me," the guard pulled a length of rope from one of his bags as he spoke and began to tie it to connect the two chocobo's reins to his own bird.

"Alright then, thank you, Peters. We will be on our way now." Edgar shook his guard's hand, "Be sure to send word to our other men on patrol of what has happened, and stay safe!"

The guard bowed deep before he mounted his bird, saluted, and rode off into the desert with the spare chocobos in tow.

Edgar pulled his bag onto his shoulders and turned to regard Locke and Terra.

"Well, we'd better get a move on then! Never know who may be nearby," said Locke as he led the way into the caves.

The caves leading to the lands where South Figaro lay and all the smaller villages where the farmers tended fields of grains, vegetables, and livestock were very dark. Unlike what one would expect of dreary dank caverns and small tunnels, the air was warm due to one entrance opening to the desert.

According to Locke, even before relations with the Empire started turning into sour milk, the caves were not used as a normal passage to the southern valley because travelers usually favored riding through the mountain passes which followed the train tracks that began in the mountains of Narshe and wound all the way around the kingdom to various stops for the unloading of coal and machinery. Those with plenty of coin in their purses could purchase seats in the carriages at the front of the train where the seats weren't covered in soot.

However since their group consisted of two very unusual individuals, Locke suggested they go through the caves to avoid too much notice.

In the first room of the cave, the ground dipped downwards at an uncomfortable angle and made Terra nearly trip into Locke when her red boots tried sliding out from under her on the smooth stone.

There were large torches resting inside iron sconces nailed into the stone walls with blackened tips from use. Locke went up to one and pulled a book of matches from his pants pocket and with a swift motion he raised the lit match to the tip of the torch, and soon it was sputtering sparks.

A warm, orange glow blossomed from the wood and soon they could see the uneven rocks which made up the walls. Shadows waved out from the jagged stones as the fire crackled.

"Well Locke, you know your way around the best, so lead us on!" Edgar announced, putting a hand on his hip while he gestured dramatically with the other.

Locke rolled his eyes before turning and walked forward to a narrow opening in the cave walls. Terra quickly scuttled after, missing the king's offer to hold her hand as they went into the depths of the caves. The light from the torch swept through the darkness, bobbing along with Locke's footsteps.

The light sounds of water dripping came from the shadows ahead of the group, and within a few moments, Locke came to a stop and held out his torch to show his friends the spring from which the soft sounds came. Terra came up to his side and saw their vague rippling reflections in the water. The fire was the main thing that could be seen, and the light was bright enough to reveal something curious: an opening in the rock wall opposite them.

"Where does that go?" Terra asked quietly, pointing. Was this part of the path they needed to go to reach the end of the cavern? She looked up at Locke's face.

He shook his head at her, "No, it just leads to a different portion of the caves is all. I've only gotten to get to it a couple of times. Nothing back there but dusty spider webs and a dead end."

Edgar came up on the other side of Terra, careful not to let his crossbow strapped to his belt graze her side.

"It does give one a tantalizing feeling, though! Terra and I have not seen what lies within, Locke, so I wish that we could visit it." Edgar rested his hand on Terra's shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

Locke bent down and asked Terra to get the empty bottles out of his pack so he could refill them.

"The water is pretty cool, so let's drink up while we can," he said as Terra sat the bottles by his side on the ground. She knelt and helped him dunk them into the water. Edgar did the same, but stopped after a moment, squinting at something in the spring which was making its way towards the group.

The figure turned out to be a rather large turtle swimming toward them, and instead of merely watching, it came right up to Edgar's hand and smacked its head against him.

Locke saw this with quirked eyebrows, "What's that thing's problem?"

The turtle let out a loud rasping noise and wound up his head to hit Edgar again, and oddly enough, Edgar did not withdraw his hand from the water. He smiled down at the creature with a tender look.

Terra furrowed her brow, "Do you know this animal, Edgar?" The turtle turned its head to look at her now but did not swim over to hit her too. It remained where it was in front of Edgar.

"He's just an old friend is all," Edgar replied before patting the turtle on the head and standing up, taking a bottle of water with him. Terra and Locke shared a confused look before following suit and continuing through the cave. They went through low passageways and around bends in the path and eventually came into a large room where stalactites dipped down from the ceiling and large stones came up from the ground, hiding much of the path from view.

Terra saw steps carved into the rugged ground leading to other openings in the cave, "Can we try going this way?" She pointed to one of the tunnels.

Locke stopped, "Why not? It'll just take a moment." He smiled at Terra as he passed by her, leading the way.

Inside the passage was an old wooden bridge leading across to a landing where a chest tucked into a corner with its brass latch rusted and cracked sat.

"What do you think is inside?" the young woman asked, looking from Edgar to Locke.

Edgar replied, "Go on and try opening it, my dear!" He gave her an encouraging push, to which she went ahead across the bridge with careful steps and reached down to the latch. The lock fell apart after she pulled at it and she found a big bottle of green liquid with bright yellow leaves suspended within. Terra came back across to her companions and held it up to them.

"That looks like an antidote, nice find! That'll come in handy if either of us eats something we shouldn't have." Locke explained before gesturing for them to leave the chamber and continue through the cave. The mage tucked the bottle into a side pocket on her pack as she followed Locke and Edgar out of the cavity. Terra saw old chipping torches sitting in their holders at various points in the cave walls as they passed another set of stairs, but they did not venture up them.

KLUNK!

Locke fell over sideways with a yelp, one arm flailing outwards while the other tried to catch the ground, his torch following him, sliding on the ground with a sizzle. The culprit turned out to be a large wrench.

The odd fellow who threw the tool emerged from the shadows with a sneer. The ragged work tunic he wore somewhat covered his bouncing belly and with every step, his mouth widened, exposing whatever brown cracked teeth remained in his mouth.

"My, my, my." The fellow extended a hand, "You look very familiar!"

"Jeez, that hurt!" Locke shouted, rubbing at his cheekbone.

Edgar moved in front of Terra swiftly, watching the stranger with narrowed eyes.

"I know your face well. Get to see it all the time plastered all over those coins I get for my pay!"

"What are you doing away from South Figaro?" The king demanded.

Locke jumped to his feet, "Yeah! Shouldn't you be at work?! You look like one of the steam engine repairmen!"

The man spat sideways, still advancing on the group. He grabbed at another huge wrench on his belt and brandished it like a sword, aimed at Edgar, "Pah! Don't like the pay. Boring work! This kinda job is way more fun!"

He swung the wrench in a wide arc towards Edgar's face, though the attack was unevenly delivered and missed by a couple of feet when Edgar took a step backward. When the ex-repairman went to swing his tool again, already sweating with exertion, it was met with Locke wielding the other wrench with a clang.

This blow made the repo man drop his wrench and shout out in pain, clutching his hand as if it were cut in half.

"This guy really is a newbie. How does he expect to steal anything?" Locke laughed as he looked from the amateur thief to Terra and Edgar.

Terra peeked around from behind Edgar, confused at how quickly the scuffle was over.

"Maybe we should get a move on."

They left the man behind in the dark once Locke gathered up the torch, which had lost much of its length when it fell out of his hands, though thankfully it was still burning. Terra went ahead and whispered "fire" to herself, willing a ball of fire of her own to help add to their light, hoping that this would help the group see any more people lurking around in the darkness.

Soon enough they came to the exit where Locke blew out his blaze with a big puff and set it up against a corner in the rock wall.

Dusk had come with more large blankets of clouds obstructing the skies above the high grassy valley falling away from the mountains.

"Well Mister Treasure Hunter, where's the closest village?" Edgar asked with a flip of his golden ribboned ponytail and a grin.

Locke looked up to the sky, calculating the direction by the point the sun sat peeking out from behind some wisps of cloud. He rubbed at his chin, and after a moment, pointed southwards.

"It should be about a couple hours this way," he declared and started to march on.


Before they reached the village, Locke brought up a problem they needed to fix before it was too late. Edgar was a king.

He looked like a king, dressed like a king, and even smelled like a king.

"But this is the newest rose water from Jidoor!" Edgar cried as Locke shook his head after having sniffed his friend over. Yes, he smelled a bit salty and musky due to their traveling in the desert sun, but that new rose water was strong. Which at least meant that it achieved the goal for which it was mixed. It was supposed to increase its scent the more somebody sweated.

"We've got to disguise you and Terra the best that we can before we reach the village! The Empire has spies everywhere, and since they saw Terra, they're going to be on our tails like a cat following a fish merchant." Locke pulled a couple of ribbons from Edgar's ponytail and unraveled them to see how wide they were.

Terra nodded and started to untie one of her scarves from around her waist and wrap her minty curls up in a bun. She then got her dark gray cloak out and fastened it around her shoulders, making sure to hide her pendant from view. She wasn't sure why she felt the need to conceal the necklace, but she had a creeping suspicion that Kefka would recognize it.

Meanwhile, Locke was attacking Edgar's clothes with dirt to make his pants look rougher and more traveled. He even pulled a short knife from his belt to cut off some of the king's golden blond hair.

Edgar smacked Locke's hands away, "No! This is one of my trademarks as a monarch!"

"You're being ridiculous!" Locke snapped, trying to push against and past his friend's flailing arms.

"Hey, maybe we can just change the style and hide some of his hair beneath bandanas?" Terra suggested, to which Edgar agreed very loudly at Locke's face, spit flying.

Locke glared at him, giving up the struggle at last, and pocketed his knife.

"Fine, but if you try to act like a freaking king when we reach the village or South Figaro, I'll knock you into next week and chop that stupid hair off!"

Terra grabbed one of the ribbons Locke had stolen from Edgar's hair and went up to him. "It must be hard to act like somebody else, Locke."

The king stooped down with a smile so Terra could reach his hair.

"Maybe you can do most of the talking when we arrive?" she asked as she tugged Edgar's ponytail down some to let it set looser on the back of his neck and tied the ribbon with a twist around it.

Locke grumbled an agreement and got one of his spare bandanas from his wrist and helped Terra hide Edgar's hair beneath it.

The three agreed to purchase more clothes once they reached South Figaro so Terra wouldn't stand out so much with her red dress and boots. And Locke convinced Edgar to dye his hair a darker shade of blond and let his beard grow out.

"I'll need to get a new pair of glasses as well. I can wear those every day because I need some to see things up close anyway."


Terra giggled as the white bird nestled itself into her cupped hands, seemingly content with the breadcrumbs she had given it. She stroked at its fluffy feathers with one of her thumbs.

"Ow!" Edgar had been trying to help feed the birds as well in the large coop and quickly found that the white doves and pigeons did not like either the crumbs he fed them or the smell of his hands. Terra couldn't figure out which reason it was. Two of the birds snapped at his fingers and got a good bit of his skin off, though luckily, without too much blood.

"Edgar man, you really gotta be nicer to these little guys," Locke muttered from his place by a large window without glass where he was scribbling on a small piece of parchment with a stolen charcoal pencil. One pigeon was standing near Locke's arm, watching his hand silently as if it wondered what the weird squiggles meant.

Locke was writing in code for his message to his fellow Returners, letting them know that he was making his way to the hideout with a couple of interesting people along for the ride.

Edgar scowled and left the chirping birds on their wooden perch and walked over to his friend. He quickly read the message, "What on earth are you writing about pumpkins for?"

Locke let out an annoyed sigh, "It's a code Banon made up, okay? 'Throwing them into the street' means 'We're on our way as fast as we can.'" He continued scribbling down more supposed code before folding it up into a tight rectangle.

"You know as well as I do that if the Empire intercepts any of our messages, we're all screwed." Locke busied himself with securing the paper to one of the pigeon's legs and snapped his fingers three times. The bird let out a chirp before beating its wings and took off into the night.

Terra didn't listen to the men's debate because she was too busy wondering if she could take the bird with her. It seemed to like her and all, so maybe the man who regularly tended them wouldn't mind parting with just one little dove…

Edgar left the coop after telling the two about how he needed to rinse off his fingers the birds attacked. Locke stuffed the pencil and left-over papers into one of his pockets and started to follow Edgar out.

"C'mon Terra, we'd better go get some rest. You can come back and see your new friend tomorrow morning, okay?" Terra smiled at the bird and kissed it on its puffy head before sitting it down on one of the many perches in the coop.

The village was nice despite how small it was. There were eight families in all, each with cozy-looking brick houses, some with flower beds on either side of the front doors, and others with vegetable gardens out back. There was a big fenced-in space off to the western side of the village where livestock were divided up to keep the pigs and cows in their own spaces. A large barn held fully grown chocobos and their young.

And behind the village were acres and acres of wheat growing in neatly tended rows. The village was called Sunley after the man who originally founded the place over a hundred years before. His family passed down the name, making sure to give the name to at least one of the boys they gave birth to. According to Locke, each generation of that family made sure to have at least one boy so they could have another to carry the name.

Apparently, the current family had trouble making a boy and had to keep trying seven times before finally getting a boy. All of the daughters didn't mind though, their parents trying so hard for a boy. They knew it wasn't anything against them because this tradition was merely a tradition. The eldest girl was about sixteen now, and every time Edgar passed her on the dirt road, she fluttered her eyelashes at him coyly, to which he smiled that Figaro smile of his.

Terra saw this display three different times so far during their stay in Sunley, and each time wondered what on earth it meant. The last time she saw it happen, she whispered to herself wondering what it was, and Locke must have heard her because he leaned his head down to her ear and said, "She's making the eyes at Edgar, poor thing."

"What does that mean?" She came to a stop.

Locke stopped too, "She wants to have a date with him, have a cup of tea, enjoy his smiles so she can think of them later on."

Terra looked confused. "What's a date?"

This made Locke cough and advert his eyes suddenly, unsure how to explain the ways of courtship.

"Well, ah, it's when people like each other a lot and want to spend time together. Privately…"

"What's so special about that? You and I have spent time together alone, and you and Edgar have spent time alone too."

"That's not what I mean!" Locke shoved his hands into his pants pockets. "It's a different thing than friends hanging out, Ter."

Terra was still confused, but decided to leave their conversation at that, and went along the road, following the path that led to the inn where they were spending the night. She heard Locke kick some dirt up with his foot before he started following her.

There had to be a reason why Locke's face turned a bit pink while they talked. Maybe it was because of the chill in the air.


South Figaro was a large and beautiful city, with tall buildings made with both wood and metals for support, many different shops, pubs, inns, and ships docked in the southern part of town. Once the trio dismounted from their chocobos they had borrowed from a family in Sunley, Edgar took in a deep breath and smiled.

"There's nothing like visiting my city! I haven't been here in months!" Edgar took off into the cobblestone streets at a near jog, looking at everything he could before going into the nearest inn to book them a room for the night.

Locke busied himself with taking the birds to the stable that was at the edge of the town, "Hey Ter, you can go on ahead with Ed. I'll be there in a moment."

Terra nodded and walked along the wide street, avoiding bumping into some of the city's people along the way. There was a group of men near the entrance of the inn, talking in low tones about some town down on the Southern continent that was destroyed recently. A man with blond hair glanced up at Terra as she reached out to open the large door to the inn, and did not look away, his face changing from impassive to almost recognition.

Terra ducked inside quickly, unsure of what that look meant and why it made her uneasy.

Edgar was at the wooden counter, discussing with the innkeeper what all they required for their stay in South Figaro, explaining that he needed a copy of each different newspaper because he hadn't been in the area in quite a while and wanted only to catch up on the local gossip, please.

"Well alright sir, so with the single private bathroom, three beds, six newspapers," the innkeeper paused, looking up with raised eyebrows for a moment before resuming his typing on the typewriter, "and the laundry service, your total comes to three hundred gil a night." With the last word, the innkeeper pushed the printing mechanism at the top of the machine to the other end, causing it to let out a ding, and pulled the paper out from its place, blowing on the ink before placing it on the counter for Edgar to sign.

Edgar picked up a pen from the cup next to the vase full of daffodils and signed.

"Sounds fair to me!" he smiled, pulled out his coin purse, and withdrew the money.

Terra came up to Edgar's side as the innkeeper was putting the three large coins in the cash register and wrote up a receipt. She noticed that he wrote the name "Gerad."

"Thanks, Edgar, Locke will like a bath. He's been talking about his messy hair for a while now," she whispered, smiling up at him.

"Yeah, I know. We could all use a nice bath after all of this traveling." Edgar took the key and receipt from the innkeeper and led Terra up the carpeted set of stairs to the third floor. "And after we get settled in our room, we can grab a bite to eat. There's a specific pub my men have mentioned from time to time that I'd like to try."

The carving on the head of the key read twenty-four and once they reached the matching door with the number carved into a brass plate nailed in the wall next to the door handle, Edgar unlocked it and held the door open for Terra to step inside first.

The room had a polished wood floor with circular rugs placed under each bed so that when one got out of bed, their feet would not slide or feel the cold floor immediately. There was a table off to the right with two chairs at either end with a vase of fresh flowers in the middle, a fireplace at the back of the room with a box with the materials for starting a fire if they desired, and a door to the left which led to the bathroom.

Terra went up to the bed nearest to the bathroom, sat her travel pack on the floor next to it, and climbed into the covers, slipping her feet out of her boots as she adjusted herself on her side, letting the shoes fall onto the floor. She let out a sigh. She hadn't realized how tired she was until her head hit the huge feather pillows. The sheets smelled clean, like the pine trees out in the forests around the city.

With her eyes closed, she listened to Edgar get his bed ready, set his bag down, coins jingling in his pocket, the key clacking on the bedside table.

Then she heard Locke enter the room, recognizing him from his familiar grumbling about how Edgar could've waited downstairs to show him which room they were staying in.

"Oh, thank gosh we have a room with a tub!" Locke cried, tossing his pack on his bed, and hurried into the bathroom, nearly slamming the door behind him. "Dibs!" he called from inside.

"Leave Terra some hot water so she can take a bath after you!" Edgar yelled back, sitting down on his bed heavily.

Terra smiled into her pillow, slipping off to sleep, looking forward to seeing all of South Figaro after they had a meal in that pub Edgar wanted to go visit.

Notes:

Hello again! I wanted this chapter to be a bit of a cool down after the drama at the castle. (and also wanted to get some world-building in!!) I always thought it was funny how the repo men monsters would randomly hurt themselves with a wrench during fights? Anybody else see that happen when they're in the caves too?
*Update 11/9/23: Still working through light editing on these older chapters because past me really liked commas and liked to be too wordy. Of course, if I missed anything, please let me know! I want this novelization to be the best it can possibly be! :D
Thanks for reading!

Chapter 6: Unspoken

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

"Urgh…" Locke's fingers tapped on the table. Something wasn't right. Something was making his ears burn, and it wasn't just because he was seated below one of the gas lanterns that were hung around the walls of the pub. If there was something his old grandmother was right about, it was that if you looked at somebody and they made your ears burn, there was something suspicious going on. It was just a matter of finding out what that thing was.

He picked up his mug and took a long drink of his coffee, all the while watching the stranger across the pub. He wasn't blatantly staring at the guy, but he was watching him.

Locke heard Edgar say something, "Yeah sure, sounds good…" he didn't even pay attention to what he agreed to. Many of the pub's patrons were smoking cigarettes and cigars, which lent a layer of fog through which Locke could hide his lingering glances at the stranger.

The stranger was dressed in nearly all black. His face was covered by a strange mask—looked like one you'd see out east. It had designs on it that Locke couldn't quite see from where he sat. The masked man had a dark navy shirt on underneath his black cloak made of wool. He had black and plum-colored scarves and bandanas tied around his head, securing his mask and mostly covering whatever hair the guy had if he even had any hair. Judging by the way his cloak was settled, Locke could tell that the stranger had at least one sword on his belt.

The thing that made him even more suspicious in Locke's eyes was that he had a huge black dog sitting next to his feet that snarled each time a patron passed by.

Locke had seen oodles of people come through South Figaro, many of them wearing all dark clothes and masks and the like; it came with the city having a harbor, however, something about this man was making Locke's hair stand on end. Especially the dog.

Edgar snapped his fingers in front of Locke's face suddenly.

"Helloooo? You there, buddy?" Edgar asked, now waving his fingers around in front of Locke's nose.

"We've asked you a few times now where we can go find some new glasses for Edgar…" Terra said quietly, giving Locke a concerned look.

Edgar and Terra had finished their meal and drinks and had stacked their plates neatly together to provide less mess for the wait staff to clean up.

"Oh, sorry about that, must have been daydreaming…" Locke mumbled, finishing off the last of his coffee as he left a few coins on the table. "Let's go, follow me."

He led the way out, passing by people nursing their glasses and ale, some flirty women, and a young girl who wandered in demanding a bowl of stew. The smoke from the patrons' vices made the air heavy, which he only really noticed once he started walking.

As they reached the door which opened to the cobblestone street, Locke gave a last glance over his shoulder and saw that the stranger shrouded in black was watching him back with a wintry glare.

"Okay, so which way, Mister Treasure Hunter?" Edgar smiled, looking this way and that, clearly enjoying seeing his city in the early evening.

Locke nodded his head to the north, "This way, luckily for us the clothing shop doesn't close until ten. The oculist rents out part of the shop, so we can kill two birds with one stone. Gotta get some more clothes for us all." He made a motion with his hand for them to follow as he started walking away from the pub. Terra and Edgar followed along at a slower pace than Locke, both wanting to take their time as they took in the sights of the city.

The cobblestone streets of South Figaro were lined with tall black gas lanterns, some of which had metal street signs nailed to the stand indicating which street was which. There was a pair of teenage boys in linen button-ups and brown caps going to each lantern to light them for the evening.

One of the pimply teens gave Locke a big grin when they passed by, and the other one winked and blew a flirty kiss at Terra. Eyes wide, unsure of how to respond, she just gave a shy smile and hurried along to catch up to Locke's side.

The evening air was warm and humid on Terra's face. She was so glad to finally be in a town where the weather was comfortable. The castle was very hot, being in the desert, and Narshe was snowy and icy, so being in South Figaro felt like such a treat.

Locke led them by tall buildings, many of which were houses built against the towering stone and brick walls that surrounded over half of the city.

There was one enormous house set apart from the rest. It was built in a different style from the others, with darker wood on the outer walls, and brick going up one side where chimneys stood high above it all. The tiles of the roof were darker too, to match the wood, and there was a part of the face of the house that had huge pieces of glass which formed a great window. The curtains were drawn for the night, so Terra could only guess at what they were hiding. Perhaps it was a dining hall?

There were walkways connecting buildings above the city streets so that citizens could go from one shop to the next without stepping foot outside. The walkways were built to look seamless with the buildings they connected.

As the trio passed underneath one of these to follow the road to the shopping district, Terra noticed an odd form in the shadows. Once Edgar walked ahead, she could see that the form was a young couple wrapped up in each other. She wondered why they were hiding away instead of being at home.

She just sighed and continued by Locke's side. Perhaps she could find a book somewhere that could explain these things. When she last spoke with Locke about it, he got pink and seemed to want to change the subject.

Terra didn't notice that Locke had seen the couple as well and was watching Terra's face from the corner of his eye to see how she would react. He was curious about whether or not seeing the city and all of the people would trigger any new memories.

They passed by a large water wheel working away at the end of one street where a bridge crossed a stream that ran through town leading into the sea. It powered a generator for the black smithery and bakery on either side.

Edgar spotted the sign for the clothing shop first and implored his friends to hurry along!

A bell rang once they entered, and they were met with an older, well-dressed gentleman seated behind a long counter where he was working a sewing machine. He did not show any sign of hearing them come in and did not look up when they approached the counter.

The shop was neatly organized by the type of clothing and had a section for shoes, an area for customers to get measured for new garments and try on the pieces they chose. There were mannequins placed around the store wearing the latest fashions. Ruffley dresses adorned with lacey sleeves stood by sleek suit jackets and crisp button-up shirts complete with ties. They even had smaller mannequins that modeled children's clothes.

"Pardon me, sir," Edgar said clearly, hoping to be heard over the roar of the sewing machine. The man didn't hear him, too focused on his work. Locke shook his head at this and then slapped the counter a few times close to where the old man was working to grab his attention.

The man was startled by this and nearly toppled over the sewing machine. He turned it off and cleared his throat, "Hello there, sorry about that. I was working on a commission that's rather urgent from what I was told."

"Oh, it's alright, sir," Edgar replied before Locke could respond. "We would like to purchase some new clothes! Many of ours are quite worn down by our travels."

"Why of course, of course," the gentleman smiled and came around from behind the counter to show them what he had ready on the shelves. He introduced himself as Mr. Thomas and asked what they would like to see first. Locke said that some new jeans would be good, so Mr. Thomas pulled out a tape measure to get his and Edgar's measurements.

He was able to find a couple of pairs that were Locke's size and pointed to the dressing area so Locke could try them on, but he did not have any that were long enough for Edgar. The king was much too tall. Mr. Thomas promised, however, that he could have some prepared by the next morning if he could take a few more measurements of course.

Terra wandered over to the women's section as Edgar was getting measured up and found a rosy-pink dress hung with others like it in different colors. It had short puffy sleeves and was fitted under the bust and flared out to where the hemline stopped at the knee. The material felt smooth and light like it would be comfortable to move around in.

"That would look very nice on you, Terra," came a voice. Terra jumped and snapped her head around and saw that it was just Locke who snuck up on her. He was holding the two pairs of jeans he tried on so he could buy them.

"Oh my, yes it would my dear!" cried Mr. Thomas who peeked around from Edgar's shoulder. "Try it on! Do try it on!"

Terra exhaled deeply, feeling her heart calm down after the scare, and nodded. She picked up the dress and went over to the dressing area. She went behind the long cream-colored curtain and found that the space housed a seat and two floor-length mirrors.

She removed her cloak, sat it on the chair, and then pulled her red dress up over her head. Luckily, she had left her scarves in her bag back at the inn or else she would have to untie them all and then retie them again.

The rosy dress fit her almost perfectly. It was too loose in the chest but felt wonderful everywhere else.

Terra took a moment to examine herself in the mirrors. She hadn't had much of a chance before, other than glances at her face in bathrooms. The shade of pink went well with her pale skin and minty green hair pulled up in her ribbons. It seemed to bring out the bright shade of green in her eyes.

It was interesting seeing how a new dress made her look so different. Upon further inspection, she saw that the fabric had light flower patterns that seemed to blur into the main color of the dress from farther away.

She stepped out from behind the curtain and found that all three men were standing around waiting to see her.

"Oh, my dear! You look so lovely in that dress!" Mr. Thomas cried, "You know, my daughter designed it! She has a talent for making flattering dresses if I do say so." He hurried over to inspect how it fit her.

As Terra lifted her arms so Mr. Thomas could see if the dress needed any alterations, Edgar was rubbing his chin in thought, "Hmmmm! That color is indeed lovely on you dear!" He made a show of stepping forward, furrowing his brows, and turning his head this way and that, as if he were a critic trying to see a piece of art from all angles.

She saw that his eyes locked in on her legs, "BUT! Terra dear, your legs are much too lovely to be hidden away like that from the world!"

Edgar came over and lifted the hemline a bit to her middle thigh, "See, Mr. Thomas, what I mean? I think THIS length would suit her much better! She wears stockings anyways, so it's not as if she's 'exposing' herself or anything."

Mr. Thomas stepped away so he could see what Edgar meant, hmm-ing as he imagined the possible alteration, "Oh ho, you do have quite an eye for what suits a lady! That length would be flattering, but elegant all the while! And that style is indeed popular with the young folk nowadays."

Terra felt her cheeks get warm at this commotion and settled her arms down at her sides, looking away from the two jabbering on and pointing at her dress, discussing whether to put lace here or there. Her eyes went to Locke, who was standing near the clothes rack where her dress came from, and noticed that he was not participating in the conversation.

He was looking at her, yes, but in a much different way than Edgar and Mr. Thomas were. Those two were merely going on about the dress itself, but his brown eyes were staring at her intensely. This made her feel odd and warm, so she looked away quickly from him too.

"OH! Another thing, Mr. Thomas! We may have to do some alterations to her bust. It seems a little loose there." Edgar pointed at the area in question, to which Terra flinched away and folded her arms over her chest.

"Uh-huh, I did notice that as well Gerad." Mr. Thomas nodded his head, "That will be an easy area to fix."

"Or we can always just add a bit of padding! The dress is beautiful otherwise!" Edgar exclaimed, flourishing his hands to Terra in adoration.

Terra heard Locke cough, "Hey Ed, how about you go ahead and see the oculist? They're through that door over there."

"Huh? Oh yes, you're right, I need to take care of that quickly before we leave!" and with that, Edgar hurried away to the oculist's side of the shop.

Mr. Thomas had her turn around so he could examine her back. She was glad to do so because her face felt like it was getting warmer by the second. She saw that the tailor was scribbling down some numbers and notes on his pad of paper. "Now young lady, do you like this dress, or would you like something else?" He asked once he was finished writing. "Because if you do, then I'll make the alterations to your liking. Your friend had some very good ideas, but it's your dress after all!"

Terra nodded at Mr. Thomas and smiled, "I would like it taken in a little, please. But I like the length just fine."

"Splendid! I'll have it ready for you when you all come back in the morning to pick up Gerad's new trousers!" He gave her a toothy smile and gestured for her to change back into her clothes.

When Terra went back behind the curtain, she heard Locke say, "Hey Ter, if you need anything else in here, go ahead and pick it out. It's on me!"

"Okay, thanks!" she replied softly. Again, his voice gave her a scare with how close it was and how suddenly it came. She turned to the chair where her cloak and dress lay and saw that her cheeks were rosier than the dress in the mirror.

Maybe it was just stuffy in the shop.


Edgar said that he would pick up their new clothes in the morning, so he held onto the receipt for them. He was sat across the room at the table with his notebook and crossbow and a bunch of tools and oddments of metal skewed across the tabletop. Terra didn't know what he did with the vase of flowers.

He was wearing his new glasses while he worked and seemed very happy with the silver frames he chose. Luckily for him, his eyesight problem was a common one, so he was able to buy one of the readymade pairs of glasses instead of having to wait a week for the oculist to make him a pair of lenses from scratch.

Terra sat on the side of her bed smoothing some lightly scented lotion on her arms and face. It was a small gift from one of the maids back at the castle who told Terra in a very serious tone that a young lady needed to keep her skin moisturized to stay healthy, especially while traveling. She pushed a few tendrils of her damp hair back over her shoulder and with a final rub, all the lotion was applied. She twisted the cap back on the bottle and tucked it back into her pack. She pulled her legs up into the bed, sat with them folded at her side, and smoothed out her new lavender nightgown from Mr. Thomas's shop. It was her turn to take the first bath of the night so she could have plenty of hot water.

She had wanted some time to herself after being out shopping, so finding solace in bubbly bathwater was a good chance.

The bubbles tried to assure her that she was normal. That getting red in the cheeks was normal. That Locke was just admiring her new dress and nothing more. And Edgar was just being…Edgar.

She could not figure out what it was about the way he looked at her that made her feel strange. What was it about seeing that couple in the shadows under the overpass that made her mind wander into hazy territory?

She felt like she should know what it was. It was like that feeling was just barely there out of arm's reach. She wondered if she had ever felt that way before the slave crown. Maybe her past self knew exactly what those feelings were. Maybe she had done something like that couple in the shadows did.

"Hey guys! They were having a three for fifty gil sale at the apothecary on tonics!"

Locke's voice drew Terra back out of her head as he shoved the door shut with his foot.

Locke jostled over to his bed with his heavy paper bags and sat them down carefully so as not to break anything. He started unpacking everything with the vigor and glee of somebody unwrapping a gift.

He had stocked up on tonics, potions, antidotes, eyedrops, and even spare pairs of socks! Edgar sat his crossbow down and went over to Locke's side to look at everything his friend had brought them.

"Hmm, good idea getting more socks. I forgot to buy a few pairs at the clothing shop." Edgar said as he picked out a couple of black pairs from the pile now taking over Locke's bed.

"Goodness Locke," Terra said quietly, looking from her spot at his bounty. "Do you think we'll be able to carry all of that? I wonder if everything will fit along with our new clothes."

"Huh. I guess I didn't think about it that way." Locke turned his head to face her and gave her a silly grin and a shrug.

"There's only one way to find out!" And with that, Locke started organizing everything by what was what, and then dividing everything out equally between the three of them.

He ended up giving Terra four tonics, a potion, a new sleeping bag, and three bottles of antidotes and asked her if she wanted some socks, or if her stockings were enough for her. She accepted everything but the socks and watched while he sat the bottles down on her bed so she could put everything in her bag. He didn't like the idea of messing with her stuff.

"Thanks for the sleeping bag! This is perfect!" Edgar said from his bed where he was attaching the straps from the sleeping bag to his bag so it would hang underneath it comfortably. Terra watched him do this for a moment before deciding to put her sleeping bag on the floor next to her pack. She would deal with attaching it to her pack in the morning.

"Here, I'll go ahead and tie your sleeping bag to your pack, okay?" Locke had snuck up on her again. And she was acutely more aware of how close he was when he crouched down at the side of her bed and set to work by doing some sort of knot.

"There we go! I'll show you how to do that knot once we're on the road again," He flashed her that silly grin once more and sprung back up to his feet.

Edgar let out a long yawn from his bed, "Goodness, I'm ready to get some beauty rest!"

"Okay, okay, I'm going to scrub up first, Kingy." Locke scratched at his bandanas as he said, "I'll try to be quiet in there."

Terra got out of bed and went over to the fireplace to blow out the candles sitting on the mantelpiece and then to the gas lamps fixed into the walls to snuff them out while Edgar let out another luxurious yawn, complete with stretching like a happy cat. "Thank you, my dear!" He said before going into a sigh.

"Hey Locke, want me to leave one lit so you can see when you come back out?" Terra asked, looking over at him by the bathroom door, waiting for his response.

He shook his head, "Nah, I'll be fine, don't worry." And with that, he stepped into the bathroom and shut the door quietly behind him. Terra went over to the last lamp and snuffed it out.

"Goodnight Edgar," she said softly in his direction, to which he said the same. She stepped as lightly as she could over to her bed and climbed into the freshly washed blankets and sheets.

It felt lovely getting to sleep in a bed every night. And to have access to a big bathtub and soaps and fluffy towels and a warm fire. Was this what it was like living at home?

She gradually drifted off to sleep, listening to Locke hum a song in the bathroom while he was shuffling things around in there.


The markets of South Figaro were such a rush of activity and things to see that Edgar felt that it would take him days to see everything. He loved how his city evolved from the time he was a boy when his father was on the throne to now.

There were many advancements in the machinery now thanks to his work. The chimneys now released mist-like steam from their openings instead of black choking smoke from burning wood or coal directly. He had developed special boilers that still used coal, but in a more concentrated way so they could burn less and the steam they produced is what powered the engines for power in the city, his castle, and parts of Narshe. Their alliance meant that he traded some of his blueprints and machinery with their engineers and they provided his realm with coal and metals extracted from their mines.

Edgar could see evidence of his inventions everywhere, from the waterwheels powering more than just a mere granary to the machines the blacksmiths used to pound iron and steel into tools and weapons efficiently instead of relying on the muscles in their arms. Everything ran smoothly and streamlined.

Since he did not have much time as of late, what with dealing with the Empire, the Returners, and managing his kingdom, he hardly had time to just enjoy himself.

He followed Locke and Terra through the marketplace, watching as merchants shouted at passing people to inspect their wares! They had the best meat! The best beans! At the cheapest prices!

Families gathered at the produce stalls, each carrying different items for their lunches and dinners while the mothers or fathers paid. Young children clung to their mother's skirts, crying for sweets as they shopped, and teenagers wandered over to stalls that sold jewelry and trinkets from around the world.

Terra stopped outside of a flower shop where there were large displays of plants in clay pots and wreathes woven with both flowers and herbs for special occasions to help bring luck and happiness. Locke had wandered away a few paces, still yakking at her before noticing that she had stopped and backpedaled to her side. Edgar came up to his friends and saw that Terra was running her fingers against a huge ashy white flower with curled petals the size of dinner plates planted in a large pot with intricate designs painted all over it.

"The petals feel like velvet…" she whispered as she looked at the flower in awe.

Locke reached out to touch the petals too, "It's called a ghost rose. People keep them in their houses to keep their ancestors near."

Edgar was about to ask how in the world Locke knew what it was when they suddenly heard high-pitched barking.

A fluffy brown dog scrambled out of the crowd, stopped at Terra's boots, and started sniffing around at her feet.

"Huh? What's this?" Terra kneeled and held her hand out to the dog, which sniffed her and then started licking her in between yips and whines.

"He must be lost, poor thing," Edgar said and leaned down too so he could pat the dog on the head, which it accepted with slobber in his hand. "Yech…" he grimaced and stood back up while wiping his hand off on his pants.

Then, a finely dressed woman emerged from the crowd with tears running down her cheeks.

"MOPS! OH MOPSIE-POO, WHERE HAVE YOU GONE?!" she cried out, twirling from one direction to another, desperately looking for wherever this Mops was. Her calls drew the attention of the dog at Terra's feet, and the dog did not want to be part of whatever this woman was doing, so it hid behind Terra's leg. But the woman saw this and hurried over to the group. She grasped Terra's hands in both of hers and sobbed.

"My dear! My dear! Oh, you found my Mopsie!" More tears pooled in the woman's blue eyes as she said this.

"Oh, you mean this dog?" Terra asked, looking down at the now cowering dog.

The woman's voice was eerily familiar to Edgar, and her dress. Especially how low-cut the neckline was. It showed off her…assets. "Yes! My poor Mops got lost while I was admiring some pearl earrings they shipped in from Jidoor just now. Thank goodness he didn't get far!"

Yes, her voice rang a bell, badly. Edgar backed up quickly behind some of the large lilies and hanging plants before the woman noticed him.

"I'd be lost without my poor puppy!" The woman gushed, and Edgar saw her swoop down and gather up the dog into her arms. "I just got him a few weeks ago, so he's still learning how to stay by my side. He could have gotten injured or stolen!"

Locke crossed his arms at this, "Maybe if you kept the mutt on a damn leash…"

Edgar was not able to hear the rest of his friends grumbling over the woman now going on about how grateful she was to Terra, who kept stammering out protests that she didn't do anything.

"I'm Mrs. Addison, by the way, dear!" the woman drew in close to Terra with a big smile on her painted pink lips. "I would love it if you would come to my home for some tea as a thank you!"

He knew it. Mrs. Addison! He stepped back as far as he could, hiding his face and turning his head away.

"Well, I don't know, I mean, I don't want to intrude, Mrs. Addison," Terra tried to say, but Mrs. Addison would not have it. He was able to see the lady grasp Terra's hand with her free one while the dog squirmed around and practically begged Terra to come as her guest and that she had the most delicious cake her cook prepared that morning and that she wanted to show her the greenhouse her husband had built for her and went on and on until Terra finally agreed with a small smile.

"Oh, wonderful! Come, come, follow me!" and with that, Mrs. Addison pulled Terra away into the crowd towards the residential district.

"H-hey! Terra! Wait!" Locke called and made after them only to be grabbed roughly on the shoulder by Edgar.

"Ed, we gotta hurry! Who knows where that woman lives!" Locke practically yelled in Edgar's face.

Edgar just sighed and said, "Look, she's an Addison. Head to the biggest mansion and you'll find them." He let go of Locke's shoulder, "I'll meet you guys at the pub later."

Locke didn't question him and took off, leaving Edgar partially hidden in the strong aromas of pansies, roses, and honeysuckles. He let out another sigh, and emerged from the plants, hoping that he did not draw any attention.

"I think it's time to find a copy of today's newspaper and a cup of tea." Edgar pulled a thin scarf from his pocket and went in the opposite direction his friends went. The last thing he needed was dealing with the silly Addison family again. The gentleman had the backbone of a jellyfish, the lady acted like a twit, and the children were rowdy and got underfoot too often when they were discussing the more intricate details of the Addison's shipping goods around the realm. He tied the scarf loosely around his hair in a style like Locke's, and swiftly walked along the outskirts of the market.

He saw the sign for one of the bakeries a few of his maids often squealed in delight to each other about and hurried to the door. It was called The Pumpkin House Bakery.

The aroma of nutmeg and pumpkin pies wafted out into the street as he opened the door, and his sinuses seemed to clear up instantly after taking in a few breaths of the spicy air.

The bakery doubled as a bookstore, according to his girls, and he saw that this was not an exaggeration in the slightest. He figured that they meant perhaps the bakery sold newspapers and some of the popular novellas of the season, but no. There were several huge bookcases lining much of the shop on the customer side. Edgar moved closer to read some of the titles and saw that they carried everything from mystery novels to cookbooks, histories to technology, and everything in between! He found himself excited by this and grabbed a couple of books on machinery and a collection of legends through the ages.

"Hey, sir!" came a voice nearby. Edgar turned in the direction of the varnished counter and saw that a young man in an apron, not much older than fifteen, stood with his hand on his hip. "How about you come to order something to enjoy while you read, eh?"

"That is indeed a splendid idea, young man!" Edgar went up to the counter and sat his books down. The teenager started punching buttons on their cash register and jerked his thumb up at the large wooden sign hung above the racks of bread and muffins behind him with items painted neatly in white paint.

"There's what you can order. Of course, we can modify it to whatever you want," Explained the youth while he waited for Edgar to decide. He lifted his glasses off his face so he could read better without the glare of the lanterns hung around the shop.

He decided on a cup of red tea with cream and a pastry filled with raspberry jam, but he trailed off, noticing in the corner of his eye a fresh newspaper from the Figaroan Post. He grabbed up a copy from the display stand in front of the counter and asked for it as well. The teen rang all of this up and said the total was thirty-seven gil. Edgar handed over the money and as the teen handed him his receipt and swept over to get his tea, he could not take his eyes away from the photograph covering the top half of the newspaper's cover page.

"Maranda Burns, Ashes Fall, Another Country Kneels to Gestahl's Regime!"

"Here you go, mister!" The teen came back to Edgar with a fluffy curled-up pastry with cream drizzled on top in curly cues and a large steaming cup of nearly blood-red tea.

"Thank you very much," Edgar replied, and folded the newspaper under his arm and balanced his plate on his books as he made his way over to one of the cushiony dark-leather armchairs. There were other people in the bakery as well, each with hot drinks and some sort of treat. A trio of young ladies sat around a high round polished table in matching stools sharing a plate of cookies and giggles. An elderly wispy white-haired woman was seated on one of the leather love seats with her knitting, and a man who looked a few years older than Edgar was taking over a table next to one of the bookcases where he had papers and open books about and scribbled furiously on a sheet on paper. This reminded him of how he tended to be when he was working on designs in his notebooks back in his workshop in the engine rooms.

Edgar gave a long sigh as he sat his things down on the dark wooden coffee table covered in pretty doilies. They were just like the ones his mother made.

He wished to be home, with Matron and all of his dear people. Perhaps one of the Returners at the hideout knew some information about the state of his home. He had not seen anything about further attacks on his castle besides the news that it had been attacked and sunk into the desert a few days ago. Nothing more. There were, however, plenty of stories in the papers speculating about why Kefka and his men attacked in the first place, whether or not their king had angered the Empire or broke the alliance, or that the fight was caused by King Edgar himself! One paper said that King Edgar decided to make the first move and attempted to assassinate Kefka with some poisoned tea.

That story had made Edgar feel slighted that some of his people would think such a thing! As if he had so little class as to poison a man's drink instead of having an official duel. He was a king after all! He was raised to act with respect and honor, even with enemies!

Of course, it's not as if Edgar could rush into the writer's home and complain. That would blow his cover, as Locke put it. 

Edgar picked up the newspaper and unfolded it all the way so he could read the entire front page while holding his teacup with his other hand.

"In today's edition of The Figaroan Post, we finally have the full story of what happened in Maranda just days ago.

The moon had just begun to show its face when the townspeople of Maranda saw an all too familiar sight approaching them. But instead of it being just another visit from the Emperor, the Magitek Knights were on another mission.

Missiles fired upon the city with rapid succession, and soon soldiers bum-rushed the people with guns at the ready.

Atop the largest Magitek armor rode the youngest general under Emperor Gestahl's command, Celes Chere. Known for her cold demeanor and strong sword skills, the young general also happens to be one of the Emperor's Magitek Knights, bred for battle before she could walk.

She led the attack upon Maranda late into the night and did not stop until the royal family were all slain by her blade. Our source claims that she came out onto the balcony of the royal family's home holding the head of the prince for all the citizens to see and proclaimed that Maranda shall assimilate with the Empire or everybody remaining in Maranda will perish.

Needless to say, the citizens of Maranda bowed down to the lady general and the Empire.

Our source has declined to be named. (Perhaps for fear for their life?)

Above this article was a photograph of Emperor Gestahl, General Leo, Kefka, and General Celes all saluting.

Edgar could not take his eyes off the page. How could a young woman like her take down Maranda?

The photograph was in black and white, but Celes's face was crystal clear. He tried to see any hint of the vile person the newspaper described, but he just found it so unbelievable that a young pretty lady could do such things that he could not even imagine her covered in blood, sword in one hand, the head of a dead man in the other.

Pictures were misleading of course. Edgar found that out the hard way when he was still young and was forced to choose to date young ladies by just pointing at pretty photographs or paintings. Once he finally met them in person, they were either just as sweet as their portrait or horrible in personality and speech, despite their long fluttery lashes and perfectly pointed noses.

He took a sip of his tea, expecting it to be hot, but found it had cooled quite a bit, nearly cold completely. How long had he been reading?

Edgar gulped down his tea and decided to head over to the tailor's shop to pick up their new clothes before going to the pub to meet Locke and Terra for lunch. He ate his pastry in four bites, gathered up his things, and went up to the counter to return the teacup and plate.

"Why Sabin!"

Edgar spun around quickly and saw a middle-aged woman gazing up at him. She frowned.

"Wait a moment, you're much too short to be Sabin." She said, bringing her hands up to pull her shawl closer around her shoulders.

"Sorry the for confusion, young man. You look just like somebody I know." The woman turned and made to leave before Edgar grabbed her hand.

"Wait a moment, you know Sabin?"


The Addison mansion was ridiculously decadent. Locke got the feeling that the Addisons were pretending to be royalty! Their lush carpets and opulent rugs were all imported from the Eastern kingdoms and their foyer had a huge crystal chandelier that was comically too large for the space.

Mrs. Addison led Terra and Locke along through her house, pointing out the different rooms they passed by on their way to her greenhouse. It was where she preferred to have tea with her special guests because she felt that it gave a lovely calming feeling when being among all of the flowers and fruit trees.

The greenhouse was indeed beautiful, and Locke could tell that whoever had been tending to the plants put plenty of love into it by the way the colors popped and seemingly exploded with life. It was not in a separate building like Locke had expected but was instead built as part of the house. Two heavy oaken doors opened to the room, and upon setting foot inside, he was met with the smell of herbs growing nearby. White sage, basil, thyme wafted into his nose and made him cough.

Mrs. Addison's plants were settled into patches in rich soil with raised brick sides to prevent the soil from spilling over onto the stylish cobblestone pathways which went along the whole greenhouse in different directions, allowing visitors to walk along and admire all of the plants and trees in comfort. There were enormous windows set into the roof, allowing the sun to pour its rays inside and nourish everything within. He saw that there were curtains tied back at either end of the windows for the day, and figured that Mrs. Addison had her servants pull the curtains out each night once the sun went down. A path leading straight ahead opened up into a stone-paved circle where several tea tables were set up with pretty seats, all of which were painted with pink flowers.

Mrs. Addison held out a chair for Terra, "Please have a seat dear." She set her small dog free on the ground, and it scampered away into the bushes with small barks.

"Mopsie loves exploring the greenhouse!" She smiled as she went over to a rope hanging from the ceiling. The lady pulled it and caused a bell to ring. Within moments, a pair of maids appeared at the entrance of the room.

"Good afternoon, my lady!" one said in a high-pitched voice and patted her hands on her white apron. She must have been cleaning right before she was summoned.

"How can we serve you, my lady?" the other asked, also wiping her hands off on her apron.

"Girls, please bring us some tea and cakes!" Mrs. Addison looked over at Locke and Terra, "Is there anything in particular you two would like?" They both shook their heads. Terra said that tea sounded nice.

"Yes Ma'am! We will be back shortly!" the maids said in unison before hurrying away to the kitchens.

Locke declined when Mrs. Addison pointed at a chair for him, "Where is your restroom, Mrs. Addison?"

She pointed at the doors and directed him to go down the hall with the suits of armor and he would find one across from a stuffed wolf.

"Thanks, be back in a jiffy," Locke said before leaving Terra with the lady of the house, who was now jabbering away about how much she loved Terra's clothes and asking where she bought them.

He was glad to be away from that silly woman for a while. Her voice was giving him a big headache. Locke followed her directions and found the stuffed wolf standing on its hindlegs, posed as if it were about to strike whoever passed by. What a great sight to see when you get to a bathroom.

He went inside the bathroom and once he was finished, he washed his hands with the lush soap next to the faucet. He heard voices when he turned off the tap and went over to where a fluffy towel hung to dry his hands off.

"Mr. Addison, milady brought some interesting guests with her for tea today…"

Locke froze.

"Yes, yes, the girl has a sort of minty green hair! Quite peculiar, right?"

"And the man looks a bit scruffy, I think. Needs a bit of a shave."

It was the maids! Locke leaned closer to the door, listening.

"Interesting," said a man's voice. "Go on with your duties girls. I need to send a letter…" the voice trailed off.

Locke waited until he heard footsteps and the voices of the maids fade away before emerging from the bathroom. He opened the door to a crack and made sure that nobody was near when he came out. He saw the retreating form of who must be Mr. Addison going around the corner at the far end of the hall in the opposite direction of the greenhouse. He stepped lightly down the hall and as he approached where the hall turned, he saw a set of stairs going up several floors. He heard Mr. Addison's footsteps on the stairs and waited until they receded before going up the steps himself.

He crept as quietly and as swiftly as he could up the stairs and once he got to the second floor, he saw a wide hallway and a loft with windows that showed the streets of South Figaro below.

One of the rooms leading off the hallway had its door open, and he could hear Mr. Addison inside speaking very loudly. Locke moved closer to the door and pressed himself with his back against the wall next to the door to prevent anybody below from seeing him.

"Andre! Where did you stow away my pens? I have a very important letter to write!" Mr. Addison sounded out of breath now, as if he had run a mile.

"They're over here, sir. Let me bring them to you," another voice replied with the patience of a man who has dealt with much trouble in his many years. He must be a manservant.

"Thank you, thank you. Oh my goodness! My chance has come!" Mr. Addison cried. Locke heard papers shuffling around and a bottle clinking.

"Sir, what do you mean?"

"I'll be able to get into the Emperor's good graces now! The girl is here! I need to send word to Kefka immediately!"

"Well sir, I shall wait here for you to write your letter, and I'll deliver it to the good general myself," the manservant replied.

"Yes, yes! Take the fastest chocobo from our stable as well!"

Locke fought back the urge to jump into the room and cut Mr. Addison's fingers clean off and rushed down the staircase as quietly as he could. Once down on the first floor, he sprinted back to the greenhouse, thankfully dodging the attention of any of the waitstaff.

He composed himself the best that he could before entering the greenhouse. Locke had to make sure he did not give away that he went anywhere else but the restroom, and that he did not overhear anything at all. He went back inside and found Terra and Mrs. Addison chattering about their favorite flowers.

Upon seeing Locke's return, Mrs. Addison jumped up, "Oh there you are! We wondered if perhaps you had gotten lost!"

Locke rubbed at his light brown hair where his bandanas were sliding down, "Hah, well I got sidetracked by admiring the paintings on the walls on my way back actually. I've seen ones just like them down in Jidoor!"

"They are gorgeous, aren't they? My husband has gone down there to the auction house many times," and with that, Mrs. Addison seemed satisfied with Locke's answer, and invited him to sit and drink some tea. He took a seat next to Terra and poured himself a cup.

"It's very nice in here, isn't it?" Terra asked him, her eyes wistfully looking all around them, taking in everything that she could.

"Yes, very. Does it remind you of anything?" Locke dropped his voice low, hiding his mouth behind the teacup so Mrs. Addison wouldn't see his lips move.

Terra closed her eyes and inhaled deeply with her whole body, trying to urge any memories on the edge of her mind to come out of the shadows. She just shook her head. "Nothing…"

"Terra dear, how about you and I explore a little if you're finished with your tea?" Mrs. Addison suggested, already standing up herself. She sat her handkerchief down on the table next to her cup after wiping her hands free of crumbs from the cakes. Terra agreed and sat her teacup down as well.

She paused and looked at Locke, who waved her off, "I'll join you in a bit. I wanna have a bite of cake here." He took a long sip of his tea and added, "It looks delicious, Ma'am!"

This made Mrs. Addison pleased, and she implored him to eat as much as he liked while she took Terra along with her into the roses.

And Locke did just that and scarfed down four of the finger cakes topped with strawberries and frosting along with a few of the flower-shaped cookies. He needed to get Terra out of there and tell Edgar what was going on. He washed down the treats with the last of his tea and decided to go over to where the giant windows came down to see if he could see the main entrance of the city from where they were. It would be easy to see Imperials marching towards them.

Mrs. Addison was showing Terra a new batch of roses she had planted as he walked by and was explaining about the "Language of Flowers." Locke hadn't heard somebody talk about that in years, back when he was still living with his grandmother and she taught the village children about it and the uses of herbs. Back then, he made it his goal to gather certain flowers every time they were in season—white heather, purple hyacinths, gardenias, daisies, sunflowers, and red roses. Since then, he only really cared about white lilies and ghost roses…

Terra let out an “Ouch!”

She had scratched her hand on some thorns from a large flower bush as she had reached out to examine a lovely purple bloom. Locke hurried over and saw that there was quite a bit of blood dripping from the cuts. The thorns must have been good at hiding because she had done a good job of not getting stuck by the yellow roses back near the tea tables.

He withdrew a midnight blue bandana from his back pocket and started wiping up the blood as gently as he could. "You okay Terra? You didn't get scratched anywhere else, did you?" A few tears ran down her cheeks as she shook her head no. Her long curly bangs that framed the sides of her face fell, hiding her from view while Locke continued dabbing up the blood. The wounds where the thorns got her were surprisingly deep. That damn Mrs. Addison has probably been dabbling in creating hybrid roses to show off to her rich friends.

Locke reached up with his clean hand to sweep the curls out of her face, "We'll get some medicine on this, okay? I'm sure that woman has something we can use."

Suddenly, he felt something akin to sparks popping around on his other hand. He looked down at their hands, hers still in his—tiny leafy-green bubbles were jumping out of her fingertips and bouncing over to where her wounds were. He gasped as he saw that the bubbles were absorbing into her skin and the cuts disappeared. Locke looked back to her face and brushed his thumb under one of her bright green eyes to wipe the tears away, "That was amazing. Guess we don't need any medicine."

She met his eyes and gave him a smile, "Thanks, it feels much better now."

They were not able to see that Mrs. Addison had witnessed Terra's little magic show from where she stood, hidden by the stems and leaves of her many ferns and flower bushes.

"OH MY!" Mrs. Addison cried out, "I cannot believe it has gotten so late!" She hurried over to the pair, noticing that Locke had withdrawn his hands from Terra in a flash, and ignored that the girl's eyes were puffy.

"I am sorry, but I have a dinner date planned for this evening with my husband, and I must prepare!" Mrs. Addison said in a rush.

"I'll see you to the door now; again, I am so very sorry for asking you to leave so suddenly, but I've lost track of the time with all of the fun we were having!" Mrs. Addison shooed them from the greenhouse and led them to the front door.

"I do hope you'll forgive me, Miss Terra! I'll be sure to invite you back over sometime soon!"

And with that, Terra and Locke were practically pushed out the door and onto the Addison's front stoop.

Locke helped steady himself and Terra as they reeled from what just happened. Terra looked around them and saw that the skies had gotten a bit cloudy.

"Huh, well I guess it's time to go meet Edgar," Locke shrugged his shoulders and held onto Terra's hand as he led them out onto the streets to the pub. Thank goodness they were leaving.


The pub was rowdy as ever when Locke and Terra arrived, and they found Edgar easily enough at a table against the wall with two packages wrapped up in brown paper.

"Hey Ed," Locke waved, but before he and Terra could sit, Edgar shot up and said, "Follow me!" and hurried out the door, packages in hand.

They went after Edgar and finally caught him outside of their inn. "What's up with you?" Locke demanded of his friend, who was looking every which way as if afraid that somebody was about to sneak up on them and attack!

"We've got to get out of here!" Edgar urged in a hushed tone. He started to pull open the door to the inn before Locke yanked his hand back.

"Look, I know we gotta leave soon, but you could at least tell us what's up with you!" Locke crossed his arms at his friend. "What did you find out?"

Edgar pushed past Locke roughly, "I'll tell you once we're out of town. Now c'mon!" He opened the door and practically ran up the stairs to their room. He was already shoving things into his pack and grabbing his things from the bathroom when Locke and Terra came into the room.

"Um, Edgar?" But Edgar did not hear Terra over his muttering and clamor. So, she simply went over to the foot of his bed where he laid the packages down and opened one up so she could see which one contained her new dress. The one she opened first had Edgar's new jeans inside, so she pulled open the other package and found her dress. She felt a little rude for unwrapping his clothes too, but he did not seem to take much notice.

During this, Locke was trying to get Edgar to tell him what happened, whether he saw one of the Imperials in town, or maybe that creep from the pub last night with the big dog, but the king was too immersed in what he was doing to answer, so Locke gave up and just started packing up his things as well. Terra did the same, and within ten minutes the three were ready to leave.

Edgar was the first out the door with his crossbow strapped precariously to the top of his travel pack. Locke hoped that he put the safety on. He stopped by the innkeeper's desk, signed next to their room number in the book on the counter, and left the key. Locke followed Terra outside where Edgar was waiting and then led them to the chocobo stable where he left their birds.

The stables were open around the clock due to travelers showing up at all hours, so they were able to pick up their chocobos and take off into the early evening.

Edgar was riding his chocobo like before, and Locke was riding the other with Terra holding on behind him.

The sun was dipping lower and lower into the sky as they rode along, and Terra wondered if they were heading into the mountains like Locke had told her.

"Ed! Why are you trying to steer us this way? We're supposed to head northeast to get to Mount Kolts," Locke pulled up close to Edgar's bird so the king could hear him.

Terra saw Edgar shake his head at this, "A woman in town told me to go north. There's supposed to be some cottages nearby that we could go to safely."

"What? Who did you talk to?" Locke smacked the tail of one of his bandanas out of his face. He would not look away from Edgar.

"Master Duncan's wife, Clara," he replied and looked over at the two. "We might be able to find him!"


Night fell softly as the trio reached one lonely cottage tucked into a wooded area with a single path leading to the yard.

The cottage was a simple house, with a vegetable garden visible off to one side, two beds of flowers planted under the windows of the front of the house, and an old well sat just inside the clearing.

"Maybe the owner has a carrier pigeon I could borrow," said Locke as he walked up to one of the windows and peered inside. There were not any lit candles or lamps inside.

Edgar went over to the well and drew up a bucket of water, "I hope they won't mind if we refill our bottles."

Locke knocked on the door loud enough to be heard even if the owner was hard of hearing.

"I don't think anybody's inside," Terra came up quietly and looked in the other window. By the light of the moon, she was able to see a bed with its blankets spilled out onto the floor. Locke went ahead and tried the door and found that it was not locked at all!

They found that the cottage was just one big room and there was not a soul in sight. Terra whispered into her hands and small flames flew out from her and went around to light every candle in the place. They were able to see that the house was definitely lived in, and not just because of the messy bed at one end of the room. There was a loaf of bread sitting on the table along with a jar of what looked like purple jam.

A large cupboard rested up against the back wall behind the table and they could see some very fine china inside behind the glass. Edgar went closer and felt something stir in his mind. "Locke, do you happen to know who lives here?"

"Not really," Locke replied from a counter that had a pretty vase full of fresh blue and violet flowers. "I've only seen a woman out here watering the flowers and weeding the garden the few times I've come to get some water from the well." He saw a fancy-looking clock on the counter, which looked like an antique. "By the looks of that messy bed, whoever lives here left in a hurry," Locke said and pointed to the bed in question.

Terra wandered over to another one of the beds and sat down, glad to rest on something that was not a chocobo running at full speed.

"Hopefully the letter that sandworm Addison sent hasn't reached Kefka yet," Edgar said, coming over to look at the fireplace with fresh logs of wood stacked neatly by the hearth.

"Yeah really, I hope we have enough time to get through the mountains before Kefka shows up in South Figaro."

Terra let herself fall onto her back in the bed but felt a soft bump that did not feel like blanket stuffing. "What's this?" she whispered, though this drew Locke's attention away from rummaging around with knick-knacks on the kitchen counter next to a fancy tea set.

She withdrew a large stuffed turtle toy from the blankets. Its shell was dark brown with green embroidery to show different patterns on it and its eyes were little black buttons sewn onto the head.

"There must be a child living here," Terra said as she examined the toy, smiling as she turned it over.

Edgar looked over and upon seeing the toy, he dashed up to Terra and snatched it out of her hands.

"Hey! What's wrong?"

Edgar’s expression made Terra's voice fall, not by him raising a hand, but by the intensity that he looked at the toy.

"It can't be…" he whispered, eyes going wide.

Locke came over to see what was going on and pinched one of the turtle's legs, surprised by the high-quality fabric. "You okay there, Ed? I know it's a cute toy, but that was a bit rude just swiping it out of Terra's hands like that."

Terra nodded a little at this.

"We've got to go!" Edgar declared and ran out of the cottage without even a glance back to see if his friends were following him, still holding the turtle tightly as he mounted his chocobo.

Notes:

Hello again! I’ve returned to the world of fanfic after a long hiatus due to work, and work, and stress. I’m trying to stay consistent with writing again, and I already have the next chapter halfway written, so expect a new one coming soon!
Thanks for reading!
Update 12/8/23: I did a round of editing in this chapter to clean some things up. Gosh, why did past me love putting commas in weird places? I guess that's what I get for reading my drafts out loud during the editing process and thinking that commas can go where you take a breath. Ugh. -_-' As always, if I missed anything spelling/grammar wise, let me know! Things can always slip through the cracks.

Chapter 7: Mountain Sound

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Sabin woke to the odd sensation of having slept in. Since he has been under Master Duncan's care, he never got to sleep in; not even when he was sick. He always had to wake up at the crack of dawn, or sometimes before, depending on the Master's mood, to help prepare breakfast, clean up, and do their morning chores before starting their training for the day.

This made Sabin's stomach churn up with worry.

He rubbed at his eyes and flopped his feet out from under the covers and over to the side of the bed as he pushed his duvet back.

The cottage was dark and quiet. He could see the faint darker shapes of the dining table, wood stove, and cabinets across from his bed, but he could not hear anything at all but his breathing.

"Did I wake up at midnight?" he murmured to himself, rising from his bed, walking over to the closest window, and pushing back the curtains Duncan's wife sent them last week. The moon was still high and shone its pale light across the land as clouds sailed past to gather in the east.

"Okay, I guess I did wake up too early, but where did they go?" Sabin turned to look at his companions' beds in the dim light and saw that he was right and was not imagining things. Their beds were empty. He had not heard the sounds of their sleeping soundly.

He ran out the front door, not bothering to close it back, and searched the yard where they did their training, around the practice dummies hanging from the trees out back, the vegetable garden off the side of the house, and the compost heap out at the edge of the woods, but still, he could not find a sign at all of his Master and training partner. The outhouse did not hide any clues, and the flower beds Duncan's wife planted for them years ago were not disturbed either. So that left the woods behind the cottage.

Sabin hurried into the copse of trees and nearly tripped over his Master lying prone on the ground.

"What the—Master Duncan!" Sabin gasped, taking a step back, eyes wide at what he saw. The Master's eyes were scrunched up, and his face was partially hidden by his long dark brown hair with gray trying to streak through due to his age. A stream of blood ran out of his mouth onto the grass.

Sabin dropped to his knees and pulled Duncan roughly into his lap and got a whiff of something strong coming from the man's mouth. Smelled like some strange herbs. They did not have anything that smelled like that for dinner. He felt the side of Duncan's neck for a pulse.

Nothing.

The man's maroon robes he normally wore looked tattered and dirty, as if he had the snot beaten out of him.

How did Sabin not hear any of this happening while he was asleep? Why did he not hear any shouting or a struggle?

"Master, who the hell did this to you?" Sabin choked out, nearing tears now. He pulled the man closer into a hug, still not hearing a sound or feeling a muscle stir.

He heard somebody leap down from one of the trees ahead. He looked up and saw his peer, Vargas.

"Vargas! Your father—look at what's happened! Who could do this to him?!" Sabin cried out.

His peer stepped closer. Sabin could now see the smirk on his tanned face. What?

"That old fool had it coming," Vargas said, bringing his hands up to crack his knuckles. "He didn't even put up much of a fight."

The putrid stench hit Sabin's nose again. "You poisoned him!"

Vargas spat on the ground next to him as he stepped closer, "So what if I did? Mother shouldn't have left that medicinal text in the bookcase. The recipe was pretty easy really."

Sabin pushed his Master off his lap and jumped up to his feet, "You bastard! How could you do this to your father? What will your mother think? How can you ever look her in the eyes again?!" He rushed at Vargas with his fist aimed at his face and his other arm held up to be ready to block off an attack. His punch landed on Vargas's jaw with a crack and drove the man backward.

"You're a damn coward! Poisoning him and then dragging him off to die in the woods!" Sabin roared and lurched forward into another attack. Vargas picked himself up quickly and jumped to the side, dodging Sabin's fists, and drove his foot underneath Sabin's leg, catching him in the back of the knee and causing him to tumble down. He then jumped high and slammed his other foot down into Sabin's stomach before he could roll out of the way. This forced the wind out of him, along with his dinner all over his face and neck.

Vargas came up and loomed over Sabin with a mocking laugh, "You lose again my friend." With that, he spat in Sabin's face, "See you never."

Sabin heard Vargas take off into the night as he lay there in the forest with his Master. His head spun, his stomach was killing him, and he could see the stars above blinking down at him indifferently. He needed to get up, wash his face off, and do something with his Master. If only he could force himself to move, but an insufferable heaviness held him down on the leaves and moss. He hadn't felt that way in years.


"Good gosh…" Edgar let out an exasperated sigh.

"What are the journalists whining about now?" Locke asked, trotting up to have a look-see at the newspaper in the king's hands.

"That wannabe aristocrat is spreading rumors about my competence. He thinks that I should do more to please the Emperor to protect the kingdom from war," Edgar sneered, showing Locke the article. Terra quickened her pace to get to Locke's side so she could read too.

"It looks like they have a lot to say about Narshe too…" Terra remarked as she skimmed the page along with Locke.

" With the unprecedented attack on the coal mining town of Narshe, many in Figaro are in uproar. Narshe has been neutral for decades, and many are questioning the motives behind the attack. Some citizens believe that there is some kind of plot between King Edgar and the Emperor to control the coal trains coming out of the Narshe Mountains. This could impose more taxes on the neighboring provinces if this were to occur.

Other sources who shall remain anonymous believe that the Empire's raid was motivated by curious fossils and precious stones unearthed in the mines.

The question remains: Why would the Empire desire relics of the past?

This assault was, no matter how one looks at it, a blatant use of the Empire's growing power and caused many citizens to fear for our great kingdom.

Several citizens on the streets believe that South Figaro is the next target for an Imperial attack and are hoping that King Edgar agrees with Emperor Gestahl's demands to prevent such an outrageous event from happening.

Addison of South Figaro believes that King Edgar should do more to strengthen the alliance between Figaro and Vector and possibly send volunteer diplomats to visit the Southern Continent to discuss matters with the Emperor and his court before it's too late…"  Locke finished reading out loud with a disgusted look on his face, not bothering to read the last sentence of the article. He folded it in half and shoved it in a pocket on Edgar's bag.

"I guess the news that Kefka tried to burn down the castle hasn't reached South Figaro yet?" Terra asked, to which Edgar gave a nod.

"If South Figaro knew, we wouldn't be able to move an inch without hearing somebody talking about it," Locke explained while looking up to the blue skies above where birds flew together around the towering mountains.

As the group came to a bend in the yellowing grass-covered trail, they encountered a large opening in the rocks. They entered the cave one after another and found that they did not need to light a torch to find their way. There were holes in the ceiling above where stones crumbled away with the weather and wear of many years which created skylights that allowed the sunlight to shine down upon them.

Huge brown boulders were blocking one pathway in the cave and discovering this made Locke let out a dirty swear under his breath.

"You alright?" Edgar asked, looking from his friend to the many carved-out passages around them leading to who knew where.

Locke shoved his hands roughly into his jacket pockets and turned from the boulder with a scowl, "Yeah, guess I can't grab the little present Arcell left for me."

"What do you mean?" Terra asked, giving the boulder a curious look.

"He's another Returner. We usually leave stuff in a hiding place back there for each other." He started walking away from the stones and headed to another passage where small rocks littered the way. "We like to help each other out, ya know? We leave things like potions and good weapons for each other that we find when we're out on missions."

"Well, I suppose you two will have to find another hiding spot for your stolen treasures, huh?" Edgar laughed as he followed along, receiving a nasty glare from Locke.

Terra giggled quietly at this into her hands, trying to muffle herself. She had seen Locke casually tuck things into his pockets while they were in South Figaro. He had taken the opportunity to stock up on soaps and candles while they passed a merchant stall in the marketplace when he thought nobody was looking.

They explored the passageways cautiously, now wary of a possible cave-in after finding a blocked-off path. One of the trails led out onto a small ledge with just enough room for one person to stand and a wooden box with a lock on it. Terra offered to retrieve the treasure because she was the lightest of the group and hopefully, her weight would not disturb the possibly fragile ground.

She struggled with the lock for a moment, which did not yield and made her hand hurt as it pulled against the metal. She conjured a ball of fire in the palm of her hand and swept the metal apart with a sizzle. The box contained a new magenta tent folded up neatly inside.

Terra brought the bundle back into the cave to show her friends, smiling when they asked how she undid the lock.

"I'll show you if we find another chest," she smiled wider, feeling pleased with herself. Edgar tied the tent to Terra's bag and fastened it in place with the straps attached.

The rest of the cave had two more treasure chests hidden away. One was behind a stack of large stones with a space big enough for Locke to squeeze himself inside to get at, and the other chest was resting in a tunnel that led out to a side trail that continued to a dead end.

Once they reached the exit of the cave after their detour, the trail went steeply upwards, leading ever higher into the mountains.


Locke whipped his head around to the left, but whatever he saw was gone in a flash.

"What's wrong, Locke?" Edgar asked as he came up to his friend and followed his line of sight, seeing nothing among the stones covered in rich, lush plants growing high towards the sun.

"Seeing things again?" he chuckled to himself and shook his head.

Locke huffed at this, "Look, just because that last thing I saw was just a stupid rabbit doesn't mean that I'm imagining things!" He glared at Edgar, "I'm telling you, something's not right."

"Well at least we were able to get a nice little meal out of that rabbit," Edgar laughed and walked ahead on the grassy trail which grew narrower.

The mountains were windy and blew Terra's hair into her face constantly. She unwrapped one of the scarves around her waist and used it to tie around her head to hide her curls from the gusts. She looked back and saw that Locke was still watching the pile of rocks away from the path, muttering to himself.

Many of the usual trails Locke used during his trips through these mountains were blocked off. At first, he chalked it up to landslides, but once they worked their way around two paths and came to a third, he said that it was definitely  not  just bad luck.

"Perhaps the Returners are changing things up to deter any unwanted visitors?" Edgar suggested, which Locke agreed was a possibility. But he had his doubts. They would have notified him of the plan before he last left the hideout. Banon tended to plan things like that in advance, so unless he caught wind that something was about to happen, Locke would have known. One of the Returners back in South Figaro would have given him a heads-up. But nobody had approached him in town, so he figured that the plan was to continue without any major changes.

Terra waited for Locke to come along, and they followed Edgar up the steep trail which wound around a jagged wall of brownstone and then down again to a rope bridge going across a gorge. The skies were clear and blue, with a few clouds swirling off to the west and large plum-feathered raptors coasted along, riding the wind currents down all around the lower peaks of the mountains, paying no attention to the travelers below.

The bridge swayed in the strong winds, but the ropes looked secure without any fraying of the fibers and had wide wooden planks woven together to form the walkway. Locke took the lead here and showed them that they needed to grasp the ropes in both hands as they crossed, and not to let go for any reason or else they could get easily swept away if a particularly strong breeze blew through the gorge.

Once they all crossed and reached the other end safely, Locke led them along another winding trail jutting out of the side of the mountain where more broken stones littered the trail and soon, the trio came to another block in the road where massive stones were piled in the way.

"What the hell is going on?" Locke demanded of the rocks and clenched his fists as if he was about to start hitting them. He stormed over to the nearest one, dropped his bag, and tried jumping up to find a place where his hands could grab hold but failed after several tries.

Edgar and Terra approached the rocks and watched as Locke kept trying. Edgar rubbed at his temples with one hand, and Terra hurried over to help Locke stand back up after he did a running start at the rocks and ended up toppling off the side of one and landed on his back.

"Locke, my friend, I don't think that's going to work," Edgar sighed, "Stop wasting your energy trying to tackle the rocks."

Terra pulled Locke up onto his knees, from which he sprang up, "Well there's no other path we can take from here!" He yelled back, "We could work around the other roadblocks, but there isn't another way around this one short of outright climbing up the side of the mountain! And that would take too damn long!" Locke stomped over to his travel pack and put it on his shoulder.

"What do  you  propose we do, Kingy?"

Edgar glared daggers at Locke at this, " propose that we rest a moment and think of a solution. There has to be a way to continue onwards." Edgar decided to sit down on the ground, pulled a water bottle from his bag, and took a nice long drink. He offered it to Terra, who accepted it and gulped some of the cool water down. Locke didn't want any for the moment. He was too busy watching Edgar while adjusting one of his bandanas that had slipped out of place in his brown hair when he flopped off the rock. One of his beaded earrings got caught painfully upwards under the fabric.

"Hey, about how tall are you, Ed? Six foot two, six three?" Locke asked while still staring at Edgar, particularly at his long legs.

"That sounds about right, why?" he replied, putting the bottle back into a pocket in his bag.

"How about you give me a boost up there?!" Locke exclaimed, excited with his idea.

"No."

"What? Why?"

Edgar stood up from the ground and brushed his denims off, "Because, I don't think I could pick you up. You look too heavy."

"OH, COME ON! You won't even try?!" Locke was practically hopping up and down now. Terra watched all of this with her eyebrows raised high, unsure whether she should say something or not.

The two men argued back and forth for a few minutes with a few insults thrown in before Locke paused and his eyes shot over to Terra, "Well what about lifting Terra up there? She's a lot smaller than me!"

"Huh?" Terra backed up a few paces away from them. "I-I don't think that would be a very good idea…"

Locke and Edgar did not hear her protest, however, and both agreed on the new plan. Locke went over and grabbed her travel pack from her shoulder and Edgar took her hand and led her over to the lowest rock.

"Oh, she can definitely reach up there if you lift her!" Locke said, very pleased now. He came up behind the two, "Don't worry Terra, I'll be here to help catch you if Kingy drops you."

"I promise I won't drop you, my dear!" Edgar said as he leaned down to pick her up.

"Um, okay," Terra conceded and allowed him to lift her by the waist.

"Yes, you're much  lighter than Locke would be!" He held her up as far as he could, and she reached up and found that she was easily able to grab onto the ledge.

"Great!" Locke cried out, "Now give her more of a boost up, Ed!" She felt Edgar grab hold of her legs and push her up higher to help give her more leverage to pull herself up all the way. She crawled away from the edge and straightened her scarf tied around her hair.

"Okay, Ter, I'm going to throw a rope up there, so grab it!" Locke called, and she looked down and saw him pulling a length of rope out of his bag. He came close to the rocks and tossed it up to her, and she caught it. Terra looked around for something to tie the rope to and found a sturdy-looking tree sticking out of the ground nearby.

She went back to the edge, "Okay, I tied it to something! It should be okay for you two to climb up now!" They nodded, and Locke picked up her bag and clambered up the rope first easily. Once he got out of the way, Edgar climbed up slower, trying to be careful instead of going haphazardly like a certain somebody.

They saw that the trail on the other side of the rocks was angled upwards, leading to another dizzying tangle around the mountain. The lack of pressure from being so high up was making Terra's head feel a bit airy, but she tried to ignore it as Locke handed her bag back to her.

Locke clamored over to the other side of the stones and slid down to the grassy path below by the seat of his pants. He waved for them to follow, so Terra carefully slipped herself down, using her hand to help control the speed, and felt instant relief once her boots touched the ground.

Once Edgar was safely down from the rocks as well, the group continued on their way upwards over the mountains until they finally reached a little cave Locke said that he and fellow Returners used as a safe place to spend the night after a long day of hiking. The cave had a couple of steel torches bolted into the rock walls, and a place created in the stone ground for making a campfire.

Terra went up to the torches and cast a fire spell on each one. She saw that the cave was indeed small, but they had more room than if they pitched a tent for the night. She sat her pack up against the back wall of the cave and untied her sleeping bag from it while Locke was fiddling with something next to the entrance. Something cracked, and when she turned, she saw that Locke was pulling a makeshift door into place. There was a carved-out piece at the top of the door so the smoke from their fires could go out into the fresh air outside.

"That's a clever door! It must blend into the rocks on the other side," Edgar said, watching Locke twist a sort of latch that secured it from any outsiders trying to come in. "Who came up with it?"

Locke clapped his hands against each other to remove any dirt or dust, "My buddy Arcell. Remember him? He's a wiz with carving stone and wood." He sat his bag next to Terra's and started unclipping his sleeping bag to settle it down on a bit of ground where there weren't many sharp rocks.

Edgar pulled out a loaf of bread wrapped up in a newspaper from his bag and sat it next to him, "Ah yes, isn't he the messy-haired scrub who tried sneaking into the maid's quarters the last time you came to visit me?" Edgar gave his companions a sly grin. "I remember him scaring my girls half to death! Timed it to where he could see them preparing for bed. Didn't even have the courtesy to single one out to take a nice stroll in the moonlight to get to know each other better first!"

Locke paused rolling out his sleeping bag. "Uh, yeah. Him. Hair's not that scruffy though." He coughed and finished settling the sleeping bag out.

"And isn't he the one with the fiancé, too?" Edgar snickered and looked over at Terra, who was watching the exchange with curious eyes. "It's unfortunate, isn't it, my lady? The poor girl probably isn't aware of that little story! I wonder what she would think."

Terra wasn't sure what to think about that. She did remember what a fiancé was though. When she closed her eyes to try to pull the images together, she saw men requesting envelopes and stamps so they could write letters to their loved ones. And overhearing jokes about certain soldiers not wearing their rings on purpose when they traveled to different cities…different districts…

"Hey Ed, why do you have this newspaper guarding the bread? I haven't read that one yet," she heard Locke say along with some crinkling of paper, and opened her eyes.

It seemed to be getting darker already, so she whispered " fire"  to herself, and willed a small flame to float over from her hand to the fireplace and let it sit and crackle to life without a thing for it to burn. Maybe she could get a spare page from the newspaper to throw into her fire to help keep the flame strong. She could keep it going without something to cling to, but it made her weary. Some help would cut the tie between her energy and the spell.

As she made to get up and ask Edgar for a page of the newspaper, she saw the front cover of the article Locke was reading peeking out from over his shoulder. Tears instantly stung at her eyes and glued her in place.

"Damn, it's wild to believe that a girl her age could do that," Locke muttered to himself as he read. Edgar nodded solemnly and then saw Terra's face.

"Terra, what is the matter?" he asked with a look of astonishment now on his face and came over to sit next to her.

She couldn't make a sound and couldn't stop staring at that angular, cold, cold, cold face. The same blond man from Figaro castle.

Locke looked over, and upon realizing that she saw the photograph, folded it immediately and threw it behind him as if doing so would make it disappear altogether. The paper smacked against the side of the cave and fell open, now showing photos of people on chocobos.

Her head started pounding and swaying and she had to close her eyes to still the feeling that she was falling. She had to focus on how she was sitting on the ground, with friends near, away from harm.

"Ter, I'm sorry that we let you see that," she heard Locke saying in a rushed tone, hearing him shuffle closer in front of her. She felt Edgar wrap an arm around her thin shoulders, "Don't worry, you're safe with us."

Terra shook her head, tears falling from her cheeks, and asked Locke for the newspaper. He protested, saying that it might make her feel worse, but she asked again.

"I-I need to see it…I want to remember."

"Are you sure? I mean I dunno if-" Locke said with concern in his eyes as he reached back to grab the paper. She opened her eyes and as soon as it was close enough, she snatched the paper from his hand while he was still worrying over her.

Edgar felt Terra tremble as she held the newspaper with both hands and took in the picture and the headline above it.

She knew that long beard of the Emperor's, and how the man next to him seemed to tower over her in metal-plated halls and felt the intensity of those cold eyes upon her. She struggled to remember the young woman though, trying to search the foggy depths of her memory as she read about how she toppled a city.


A stuffed dummy in the shape of a person burned up in a puff of smoke.

"Wonderful Terra! Now take ten paces backward and do it again," said a metallic voice from an intercom above their heads in the practice yard.

She did as instructed, and again, the next dummy in the line-up suffered the same fate. They were testing distance that day.

"Now your turn!" said the voice. "Step ten paces forward from Terra's position and let's see how your spells fare."

A girl with long, slightly wavy blonde hair in a green tunic and knee-high white boots walked out from the side of the practice yard and came up to Terra with a happy smile. She brushed her hand against Terra's as she got into position and took her ten steps.

She felt a surge of energy come from the girl who held both of her hands up together with her palms facing the dummy, "Blizzard!" A shot of twinkling snowflakes fluttered from her hands and they struck the dummy dead on. It was instantly covered in ice.

"Good, good!" Came the voice again, squawking above. "Back to Terra's side and do it once more."

The girl turned and walked back to Terra, smiling at her again, bright blue eyes meeting her green. She couldn't help but smile back. She stayed close as the girl concentrated and let her next spell fly. This time the snowflakes skittered around a few yards before they reached the dummy with a flash of light. Terra saw that her face had fallen. She let out a sigh that made her whole body seem to droop down.

"We'll have to focus on that some more. We can't have your spells losing track like that." Now the voice was behind them instead of on the intercom.

The girls both turned and saw a middle-aged man with bushy dark eyebrows poking out from behind some heavy copper goggles. His matching mustache made it look like he was always unhappy.

"We'll have to cancel your runic lesson today so you can practice some more." He pointed at Terra with a tanned gloved finger. "Kefka is waiting for you inside. We'll go ahead and do your testing, Terra."

He turned back to the other girl, "I'll have Leo come out to help you. You need to learn how to control your spells better like Terra." When the man in the heavy beige lab coat turned to leave, the blonde stuck her tongue out at his back and rolled her eyes.

Terra refused to look back up until the man walked past her, and then met eyes with the other girl. They shared a disappointed sigh. She was looking forward to the runic lesson today. She loved casting her spells at her friend and watching how the girl inhaled them. Her whole body would shimmer, and her hair would fly out as she absorbed the spells into her body. Terra would only cast healing spells at her because she refused to hurt her friend. Kefka was the one who would cast the flames and bolts of lightning. She looked as if she breathed them into her lungs as the energy struck her.

It was like a special time nobody else could understand unless they knew magic and could feel the beautiful energy washing over them in waves from all directions.

She went to the girl and grasped both of her hands, "Let's meet in the library later?"

"Yes, we have to get good grades on our math quiz tomorrow."

"Terra, come on," came another voice from behind them, "The tube's waiting." The voice seemed to spit out these words with disdain.

She turned and let go of her hands, really wishing that she could stay. Terra had to do those tests every single day. Why couldn't she have a day off from it? She took a last look at the girl before entering the building and saw her friend's eyes squeezed shut and jaw clenched as if fighting back tears.


Terra woke up to the sounds of a metal pot boiling and Locke munching on an apple. She sat up and rubbed at her eyes with one hand. They felt puffy and sore.

Edgar was sitting on his sleeping bag with his legs crossed, sipping on a steaming mug and reading a large leather-bound book that took up his lap. His glasses were trying to slide down his nose as he read.

"Want some tea, Terra?" asked Locke from where he sat in front of the fireplace. There were pages from the newspaper at the heart of the flames. He popped the remaining bit of apple into his mouth with a loud crunch. "Edgar has another cup's worth over there." He waved a hand at the king.

"Sure," she replied while pulling her legs out of her sleeping bag, stretching them out, and rolling her feet around in the air as she did so, making her ankles pop with relief. Locke grabbed the teapot from its spot next to Edgar and pulled a deep olive-glazed mug from his travel pack. She was still trying to figure out how Locke managed to carry around so many things.

"Here, I'll heat it over the fire real quick," Locke replaced his pot with the tea and started pouring the dark water into another mug he had sat out in front of him. It smelled like coffee. He produced a yellow apple from his bag and offered it to her. She accepted it and took a small bite—it was almost too sweet! Terra continued to eat though and watched as Locke poured her tea into the glazed mug and handed that to her too.

A soft light ebbed into the cave from the small opening at the top of the stone door, signaling that morning had come. They could hear faint bird cries too while they ate their breakfasts and slowly woke up for the day. They were nearing the end of the trail leading out of the mountains and would soon be on their way through the valley leading to the Returner's hideout. Locke told them the night before that if they made good time and did not have any hiccups along the way, then they would probably reach the hideout by that evening after the sun went down.

Once Locke had finished off his coffee and scarfed down another yellow apple, he started stuffing things back into his travel pack and urged Edgar to put away his book to help out.

"I'm almost done with this chapter, give me a few more minutes…" he said, eyes not leaving the page.

"Ugh, why are you bothering reading that anyways, Ed? Don't you know all of that stuff already?" Locke finished securing his sleeping bag snugly in place with the straps under his travel bag and went over to Terra's to help her do the same.

"Because," Edgar sighed, glancing over at his friend, "Others come up with unique ideas for how to make things and it helps me think of how to create machines from a different vantage point." his eyebrows knit together with annoyance as he continued studying the pages.

" That book must be really interesting…I wonder if he'll let me look at it later."  Terra watched Edgar read, her tea growing cool in her hands, and glanced away when she saw him raise his eyes to meet hers.

"Okay Ter, you're all set!" Locke held out his hand for her cup after she took her last long drink from it. He withdrew a gray bandana from his back pocket and wiped it down quickly to dry up any remaining tea so it wouldn't make his things damp. He reached over to his bag a few feet away and tucked the mug inside.

"Hey Locke? Don't look over here for a moment please?" Terra held up a clean pair of pink stockings, signaling that she wanted to change out her current pair. He nodded and obediently turned away, willing Edgar to not look up from his book as he heard Terra shuffle around briefly. Luckily, Edgar's attention had gone back to his reading, and didn't seem to notice what Terra was doing.

"I'm done," came her soft voice. Locke looked over his shoulder at her, seeing her smoothing her dress down over her thighs and tucking her other pair of stockings into her bag.

"Alright, let's get a move on!" Locke stood and stretched his hands out high above his head with a loud pop. At this, Edgar gave a sigh and snapped his book shut after marking his place by folding down the corner of the page.

Locke unlatched the stone door and started pulling it away, revealing the bright morning sun rising slowly over the mountains. The air was crisp and fresh when Terra stepped outside, bringing her arm up to shield her eyes from the sudden light. Birds let out chirps from nearby cliffs where they nested, and the wind blew lazily along the trails as if it was still waking up for the day.

Locke led them back onto the main trail which started going downwards steeply, "It looks like we're nearly outta here guys!" He pointed at a cave opening coming into view. "Just be careful with your footing; it's really easy to slip through here."

"Thank goodness! All of this mountain air has been making me feel so dizzy," Edgar replied and let out a yawn. "I could use a nice bath! Roughing it like this is fun for a while, but I hate letting my hair get so messy."

"Oh, don't worry, we have a nice setup at the hideout where fresh river water comes out of a spout like back in town. No bucket baths for us," Locke didn't get to finish his sentence.

His body was thrown into the side of the mountain with a crash that made gravel rain down from above.

"What was that?!" Terra gasped before seeing a huge blur bound down from the stone cliffs above the cave opening.

Locke rubbed at the back of his neck before shouting, "Hey, what the hell was that for?!" He didn't seem too banged up by the attack and stood, withdrawing a dagger from his belt.

The culprit was now standing at the entrance of the cave with his tattooed arms crossed. The man stood taller than Edgar with rippling muscles underneath sun-tanned skin and his long black hair was gathered up in a high ponytail which wafted along with the wind blowing down on them.

He sneered down at the trio as they stood their ground, readying for another attack, "Well then, looks like more of you Returner rats are headed to your precious hideout."

"Who are you?" Edgar demanded, reaching back to grab his crossbow from over his shoulder.

This made the stranger laugh, "You'd think you little bandits would get the hint after some of your comrades 'mysteriously' disappear!"

"Wait," Locke interjected, jaws clenched, and shoulders tensed, "So you're the asshole who's been murdering my friends!"

"They were good practice," the man snorted, now taking a step toward them, "Some of them put up quite a fight, and I hope you three will too!" With that, he launched himself at the group with such speed that they couldn't see but a blur rush from sight.

Before Locke or Edgar could react, they were thrown back with a bone-crushing blow, nearly landing on top of Terra as she scuttled out of the way.

"Fire!" she cried out in a shriek and sent a wave of flames at their attacker, but he somehow deflected her spell with a quick movement of his arms.

" Special armor?"  she grimaced and made more balls of fire lashed out at the man.

He couldn't dodge all of her strikes and let out deep shouts as the scent of burning flesh soon filled the air. Edgar untangled himself from Locke and left their travel packs on the ground behind Terra and aimed his crossbow at their attacker. He let loose a round of steel arrows, a few caught in the man's side as he dashed away from Terra's spells.

"Enough of your tricks!" the man cried, rushing at Terra and throwing her backward into the rock wall. His tough hand closed around her throat before she could move out of his reach.

"Terra!" Locke shouted, leaping up to sprint up behind the stranger with his dagger ready. Terra struggled against the man's grip, finding it harder and harder to breathe, unable to release more fire as she clawed at his hand with both of hers.

Locke slashed from behind and managed to leave a long heavy gash on the stranger's back. Locke ducked when a heavy arm swatted back at him and cut at whatever he could reach.

Edgar readied his crossbow to let loose another round of arrows when a voice from above thundered through the mountain pass.

"Leave them be, Vargas!" Another tall man bounded down from the ledges overlooking the scene.

Vargas loosened his grip on Terra's neck and let her fall to the ground with a sickening thump. Locke hurried over to her side pulled her upright and withdrew a potion from one of his pockets.

Edgar let the arm holding his crossbow slump down at his side, eyes wide in shock, "Sabin?!"

He received a big grin from his twin before he turned his attention to Vargas.

"My, my, my, I figured you would still be crying over that old fool!" Vargas made his way over, shaking his head with mock pity.

"That 'old fool' was your father! How in the hell could you kill him in his sleep like that?" Sabin shouted back; his face contorted with anger now.

The man went a few paces closer, shrugging, "He was an old coward, wanting nothing more than peace and caring for stupid pretty flowers and rabbits. He never saw my full potential, never cared to show me what true power was!"

"But he was! He was showing us how to achieve strength with purity and inner peace! All you care about are shortcuts!"

"Well," Vargas growled, "If you want inner peace so bad, I'll send you to where you'll have all the damn peace you want!" And with that, Vargas rushed at Sabin and sent him flying backward into the rock wall.

But Sabin spun in the air and hit the rocks with his feet and used the momentum to kick off and catch Vargas in the face with his fist on his way back. Vargas hit the ground hard. Sabin rolled himself to a quick stop and jumped back to Vargas, ready with another punch.

The other man pulled himself up, cheek bleeding, and aimed a kick into Sabin's side just as he appeared. That sent him sideways a couple of steps, but Sabin righted himself and breathed deep. He did not want to fight, but something inside told him that Vargas would not stop, and would never apologize.

Vargas stood, facing him, "You'll have to do better than that, Little Sabin."

He brought his hands palms together in front of his chest and whispered something briefly. Sabin couldn't catch what he said, but as soon as he felt the air around them moving erratically, he knew.

The wind whirled around them and then built up into a sphere around Vargas before exploding from the man's hands at Sabin. He was thrashed back into the stones, unable to maneuver at all, as if the wind had turned into giant hands holding him in place for another blast from Vargas to strike Sabin right in his abdomen. The pain was so sudden that he didn't even have the time to cry out from the force of what felt like a hurricane pounding into him. The wind had become like daggers and sliced into his skin before the attack finally let up. He fell to all fours, chest heaving, drops of blood falling to the dirt under him. His shirt was torn all the hell.

He heard Vargas coming towards him laughing that taunting laugh that had plagued their years together. "Father always said that air was my element!"

This made Sabin grit his teeth. He breathed deep from his nose and exhaled slowly from his mouth several times to help calm his mind. He concentrated on the feeling of the sun bearing down on his back and shoulders, feeling the light soak in, feeling as if he could sense the ground below absorbing the rays as well. Everything went bright.

He pulled himself up into the proper stance, knees bent and loose, brought his arms up above his head, willing the energy to move around within, and leaped to Vargas before the man could take another step forward. His fists moved in a flurry of light and speed, allowing the energy to move him, keep punching, pummeling his friend everywhere that he could reach.

When the light faded, Vargas was lying strewn out on his back on the ground, blood running out of his nose and ears. His shoulder looked crushed in, and ugly bleeding welts littered his arms, and chest, everywhere.

Sabin exhaled deeply, sweat dripping from his face as he took in the sight. Vargas coughed roughly and bloody spit flew out of his mouth.

He made his way over to Vargas, feeling tears forming the closer he got. He brushed one of his hands up through his golden hair once he reached his friend's side.

Vargas cracked his undamaged eye open and glared up at Sabin, "Wh-when did he teach y-you…" He coughed again, shuddering his whole body violently with the action. More blood flung from his lips.

Sabin shook his head and grimaced down at him, "If only you hadn't been in such a rush." He turned away from Vargas, "Until we meet again."

When he looked up and saw his brother standing several yards away, the tears finally fell from his eyes.

"Brother!" Edgar shouted and dropped his crossbow in favor of running up to his twin. He pulled him into a tight hug, not caring about the blood on his twin's clothes. Sabin returned the embrace twice as hard, unable to believe that his older brother was there with him.

"Come on," came another voice. Sabin looked through his tears down at the bandanaed guy pulling the petite woman along after him. "I think it'd be best for us to have the reunion somewhere else guys." He saw him nod his head in the direction of Vargas. Edgar agreed and grabbed his brother by the hand for the first time in years and guided him away into the cave that led out of the Kolt mountains.

Once in the shadowy cave, Sabin wiped the tears away with his free hand and almost bumped into Edgar in the dark when he stopped suddenly in front of him.

"Thanks, Locke," Edgar said, taking his bag and crossbow from him. The group continued through the small cave to the warm light on the other end, leading to the grassy valley at the base of the mountains. Edgar's grip on his brother's hand only tightened as they walked along back into the sunlight.

"So," Locke stopped and spun around, letting go of Terra's shoulder to face the brothers, "You're the famous Sabin I've heard so much about!"

Sabin smiled, "Heh, yes." He looked down at his brother, "Been talking about me a lot, hmm?"

Edgar gave a big smile back, "Well of course! You're one of my favorite topics!"

The king gestured to his companions, "Sabin, I'd like to introduce you to Locke and Terra. I've been traveling with them to the Returner's hideout."

Sabin put his free hand on his hip, "What happened at the castle? Aren't you supposed to be king-ing?"

Edgar sighed, "It's a long story. We'll catch you up on the way."

"Sounds good! I'll catch you guys up too." He brought his twin in for another hug, "You have no idea how much I've missed you, Edgar."

Terra stepped up to the men silently and gently pulled something from Edgar's bag. "Um, Sabin? Is this yours?"

She held the turtle toy up to his eye level.

Sabin let out a gasp, "Mister Turtle!" He let go of Edgar in favor of grasping the stuffed animal with both hands. "Where'd you get him?"

"Well, we stopped by a cottage to rest for the night a couple of days ago and I found it. Edgar stole it and said something about finding somebody." She gazed up at the giant of a man now hugging the toy like a young child. She was amazed at how much he resembled Edgar. From the pointed nose to the sharply defined jaw lines to his dark blue eyes, hid face was almost like a mirror image! He was taller than the king though, and much more muscular. Also, he had strange swirling red markings leading up his arms to his shoulders and down his back from what she had seen so far.

He gave her that Figaro smile that made her heart flutter slightly, "Thank you guys for bringing it. I know it seems kinda silly, but Mister Turtle's been my best buddy since I was a kid."

She gave him a shy smile back.

"No problem big guy!" Locke couldn't help smiling with them, "Now let's head to the hideout! I bet they'll have dinner ready for us!"

Notes:

Author's Note: Hello everyone! I thought I was going to have this chapter out sooner, but with everything going on in my state recently, and with my work, well let's just say that I've been distracted. I had a lot of fun with this chapter, and hopefully I'll have the next chapter out sometime in July. I have some of it written already, so hopefully it'll go by quickly.

Also, the turtle toy is a sort of inside joke/silly head canon of mine from years ago. Those of you who may have read my Figaro Bros fic Grains of Sand will catch the reference. My best friend Fop, who's also my beta-reader has always said that I latch onto the weirdest details from video games, and in the SNES version of the game, somebody mentions having a pet turtle. I can't remember if that's in the GBA/PS2 versions though...anyhoo, thanks so much for reading!
*Update 12/8/23: Still going through and doing light editing to get everything cleaned up! This is what happens when you have long gaps in between updates, guys. Inconsistencies with writing! Oh well, let me know if I've missed anything! :D
-Moogle

Chapter 8: Quiet Promises

Summary:

Beginning of the Returner's Hideout!

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

By the time the sun started on its way downwards in the sky, the group soon found themselves approaching the base of the Sabil mountains. Locke led the way past the many clusters of pine and evergreen trees to a series of outcroppings in the side of the mountain that from afar looked like a landslide recently befell the area.

In the dimming evening sky, they saw a few snatches of light from the ragged stone ledges above. Signals.

Terra wondered what they meant. She supposed they weren't warnings to turn back because Locke nodded after the last glimmer disappeared from view and continued walking.

She saw Sabin scratch at his hairline after seeing this, and let out a low grunt to himself, seeming to come to the same conclusion as her.

Locke hurried along, leading them to a huge maw in the side of the mountain partially hidden by jagged boulders and dried-out dead trees snapped in half, leaning on the rocks for comfort, pieces of bark littering the ground all around. Inside the cave was a low passageway, causing the Figaro twins to duck down as they made their way to a heavy wooden door without a doorknob or lever. Locke gave a few loud, quick taps on the wood with his fist in a sort of rhythm and then the door opened from the inside with a scraping groan.

A middle-aged man with caramel whiskers peered at the group for a second before he heaved the door open the rest of the way with a big smile. "C'mon in Locke!"

"Thanks, Tom, good to see you," Locke replied, giving the man's hand a hearty shake as he entered.

"Damn, looks like you've brought some interesting characters along for the ride, huh?" Tom said, eyes wide as he watched the twins and Terra follow Locke inside the Returner's Hideout. Terra heard him gasp when she passed him, but he didn't make any remarks about her.

"Banon's in the library, man. I'm sure he wants to talk with you."

"That's what I was expecting," Locke let out a laugh, still walking onwards to a little set of carved stone stairs. "See you at dinner!"

The other Returner agreed, and Terra heard the great door heaving back into place.

The hideout was created in a series of caverns. It must have taken ages to dig into the rocks to make passageways larger and to reinforce other parts with steel rods and wooden planks. There were wooden crates stacked three high, reaching the ceiling, each with words painted on the side in black paint.

Relics. Medicines. Clothing.

An urn by the stairs held bottles of potions and tonics.

She did not get a very good look at the hideout though as she followed her friends along a short passageway, up more stairs, along the outskirts of a large room filled with tables and chairs, and through another doorway into a room cluttered with bookcases and worn leather armchairs.

Locke came to a stop in this room behind a coffee-colored chair where a person with wild auburn hair sat, seemingly engrossed in a book.

"Banon, I've brought her, along with a couple of friends," Locke said clearly.

The man grunted. She heard the book snap closed. He stood from his chair and turned to face the group with stern gray eyes set under heavy eyebrows and wrinkles. He sat the book down in his chair, eyes not leaving them, and slowly crossed his arms at them.

"Looks like you've brought Figaro's with you, Locke. King Edgar and his brother?" Banon's face crinkled into what seemed to be a grin. It was hard to tell under that bushy auburn beard that covered the bottom half of Banon's face and rested at the collar of his maroon tunic. Over this, he wore a yellowing leather vest with two buttons undone and a pocket watch peeking out from his breast pocket.

Locke smiled at this, "Yeah, they tagged along."

Banon went to Edgar and Sabin and smiled up at them. He was much shorter than them, much like everybody else. "You young men look just like your father, Bronson." His eyes moved over to Sabin's face, "Especially you, Sabin. Same humorous expression in your eyes. Like you can find the fun in any situation…"

Sabin stiffened up at this, "Thanks, I haven't heard that in years." Banon made to shake their hands, and they both accepted.

Banon now took a few steps to the side, peering past Edgar to see Terra standing a few feet behind the twins.

"Ah, and you must be our Imperial Witch." The man came closer, "What's your name, girl?"

"It's Terra…" she replied, looking from his tanned skin and ruddy cheeks to Locke cautiously, willing him to give her any hint as to what else to say. None came.

"I've heard that you had some sort of device on your head up until recently. A slave crown. Did you have it on during the raid in Narshe?" Banon asked, coming closer to her. She could smell tobacco.

Flashes of cold hit Terra in waves, going from her head down to her toes. She suddenly felt as if a hard wind was thrashing into her head. Two names popped to the surface, but then they disappeared into a bright light. "I…think so," she managed to whisper. The wind would not let up in her head, making her feel as if everything inside was getting beaten up.

She grabbed at the sides of her face softly to help ground herself, "I can't really remember anything from before."

"Sounds about right," Banon said in a gruff voice, now watching her intently, one hand twirling his fingers in his curly beard. "Our sources say that you had it on during every mission you were ordered to carry out. Including that special experiment with Kefka to see how strong your powers were against your fellow soldiers."

Terra felt stomach acid rise in her throat. She swayed on her feet. Her breath came out in shudders, "I can't remember any of that! I can't remember!" She winced her eyes closed, not wanting to see the concerned look from Edgar, Sabin's jaw hanging open, or Banon's stern eyes bearing down into her.

"Banon! Leave her alone!" Locke demanded as he hurried to Terra's side and wrapped his arm around her shoulders to help keep her steady.

"Hiding the truth from her won't make it magically disappear, Locke! She'll have to face it sometime!" Banon retorted, glaring at him. "In fact, we could use her help!"

"Perhaps we can discuss that at a different time, Banon?" Edgar interjected before Locke could say anything else. "It's getting late, and we haven't had a chance to eat our supper yet."

"Yeah, I'm starved!" Sabin agreed loudly with his twin, rubbing at his belly to emphasize his words.

Banon let out a throaty sigh at this. "Alright, get on you young people. Cath's made beef stew and sourdough bread tonight."

The four turned and left Banon in the library. The man kept his eyes on Terra, thinking to himself about how hard it would be to cover up her unusual hair color without scarves and cloaks.


Our story begins on a fine spring day. The flowers were blooming in vibrant yellows and whites in the modest garden where we find our heroine Magda watering her blooms and herbs with the utmost care. The sunlight is shining brilliantly off her soft golden braids and the heat is bringing a sweet color to her delicate cheeks.

"Hey! Get away from there!" a young woman with brass goggles pulled up on her forehead yelled out, pointing an accusatory finger at the younger of the Figaro twins.

Sabin jerked his hands away from the well-loved old radio as if it torched them. He looked to the woman with a sheepish grin, "Okay, okay!" He backed away from the shelf where the radio sat and carefully made his way back to his seat next to Terra, dodging away from the middle-aged woman Cath who was setting the tables around the common room of the Returner's hideout.

Terra looked up at the prince, "What were you going to do?" she asked in her soft whispery voice that caused many to need to lean in closer to hear her.

"Well, I figured it would be more fun to listen to those newest hits from Nikeah instead of some stuffy radio drama." He ran a hand back through his hair, looking across the room at the Returner who reprimanded him.

" My dear Magda, you look as ravishing as ever!" the young, well-dressed man declared with an air of confidence that would make many women not be able to look away. His swagger alone called attention everywhere he went. It made Magda shyly smile, though she quickly turned it into a thin line before he could gather in the details of her plump lips. He brandished a glorious bouquet of fresh red roses tied together with a pure white ribbon to her.

" Aren't those roses picked from your wife's garden?" Magda bit back, "Everybody recognizes her special breed of flowers."

This made the man flinch.

" Leave me be, Darien. I've told you that I have no interest in married men!"

"Oh goodness! How scandalous!" The king of Figaro cried out into his napkin to hide a mouthful of buttered bread.

"I know, I know!" a male Returner across the table agreed, gulping down his mead a bit too fast and letting out a satisfied sigh.

Darien did not shrink back from this accusation, "But Magda, I shall be rid of that old heifer within the month!" He thrust the bouquet at her, his hand now brushing against hers as if daring her to wrap her fingers around his. "My heart only yearns for you! Your beauty has captivated my mind, body, and soul."

Magda stepped away from him, glaring at his display with anger in her ocean-blue eyes. "How can I trust a man like you, though? To claim to love me so fervently less than a year after vowing yourself to another? And to hurl insults at your wife so shamelessly?!"

"Bahaha! That sounds like something you'd do, Henley!" Locke snorted in between spoonfuls of stew. He was eating so fast his bowl was nearly empty.

"Ouch! If you're going to kick somebody under the table, aim better!" Edgar snapped at Henley, who was sitting across from him and Locke.

Henley raised his eyebrows in mock confusion and pointed with his spoon at Locke, "He must have done it; I would never ever try to kick somebody when they make rude comments."

"Ooooooo!" a group of Returners at the nearest table taunted in unison.

"Got called out!" one laughed, spilling beer on himself.

"What a naughty, naughty guy! Heheh!" another laughed, slapping the table.

"Let's hope Audrey doesn't show up tonight or else she might overhear something!" another added, though was suddenly cut off when Cath smacked the back of his balding head as she walked off towards the kitchen. He rubbed at the spot and scoffed, "Jest tellin' the truth is all…"

Our dear heroine clutched her hands together at her chest, breaths now coming in gasps, "Anna is a kind woman; I won't hear any more of these terrible words from the man who is supposed to be her dearly beloved!" She turned away from Darien with a flounce of her long skirts. She gazed out at the garden around her, longing now in her voice, "I do not care that we danced at the duke's ball together, nor can I reminisce fondly of our embraces now that I know your true nature!"

Magda dropped her watering can and fled in haste to her home. She could not even find solace in tending her flowers now. Tears threatened to fall from her lovely lashes.

Darien watched her departure with his fists clenched. "She cannot deny me! I must have Magda for my own!" He threw the bouquet over the garden hedge in a fury. Red petals fell as if in despair of the treacherous feelings bursting between the two.

"Ya know something, Terra?" That Magda ought to have slapped that idiot as soon as he tried to give her the flowers!" Sabin guffawed. "He's such a loser!"

She giggled, nearly dropping her bread into her bowl of stew.

Sabin laughed even louder, "If I were her, I'd march right over to his house and tell his wife what a freaking cheating jerk he is!"

"But what if Magda gets blamed?" Terra wondered, smiling up at him now.

The intermission music began with a flurry of violins rising and falling the notes in a dramatic wave before brass instruments took over the melody, bringing it to a soulful bounce. Much of the common room started buzzing with Returners debating who should go to Narshe or South Figaro next to gather information. Some had already drunk several glasses of mead and beer while others were wondering what kind of pie was for dessert. Cherry or apple? Perhaps rhubarb since it was in season?

The news of the attack on Figaro's castle had quickly spread throughout the Returners and many were going over to ask Edgar and Locke what had transpired.

Some Returners introduced themselves to Terra, including the dubious guy named Henley, all curious about the ex-Imperial soldier and her thoughts about the recent events. Terra soon found herself surrounded and overwhelmed by the questions, especially when asked about Narshe. Locke took over those answers once he noticed how her hands were trembling.

Attention was successfully drawn away. Sabin clapped Terra on the back, "You did a good job dealing with the onslaught there!" She gave him a weak smile before slouching over her bowl of stew, only half eaten. Locke couldn't help glancing over at her during the excitement.

The music ended on a high note from a woodwind.

And now we see our heroine at the market doing the daily shopping for her ill mother. The crowds were a comfort to dear Magda because she could clear her mind of that devilish fiend and focus instead on her task at hand.

"Would all you guys shut up?!" The same female Returner from before cried out, now at the radio and turning up the volume. A hush fell over the common room, some confused, some scowling at her, but all gave into the demand.

And soon, the whole room was listening intently, gasping when the wife of the fiend approached Magda.

" You!" Anna rushed over to Magda from the grocer's stall. "You're the woman trying to steal away my husband!" She held her hand in front of our heroine's face, displaying the golden wedding band on her ring finger and the large diamond in the center.

" But I am not trying to take Darien! Quite the opposite! I cannot allow myself to be swept away by such an unfaithful rogue!" Magda replied, pleading with her whole being for Anna to believe her.

" Are you implying that you are superior to me?!" Anna exclaimed, crossing her arms with a sneer across her beautiful face.

Magda gasped and closed the distance between the two, "No, don't you see?" Her blue eyes caught Anna's in a vice, "We both are too good for that beast of a man!"

"Hell yeah!" Sabin whooped. And received a shoosh.

Now Anna's eyes widened with shock. Her face blushed exquisitely across her soft features up to her ears where ruby earrings dangled. It was obvious how much Anna struggled with the thought. She loved her husband so much, but all of the rumors around town echoed in her mind.

Magda grasped Anna's hands in her own. She could feel the quiver there from Anna.

Magda's eyes glittered with inspiration, "Let's poison that evil man! That way we can ensure that he does not break another woman's heart ever again!"

Music swelled from the speakers.

And that concludes this week's episode of Poisonous Love! Will our heroine succeed in convincing Anna to aid in her plan? Will they become partners in a crime of passion? Or will Darien win over our heroine with one last endeavor?!

Tune in next week to find out!


That night, Locke and Terra shared a bed. They were given a tiny room that was barely large enough for the bed to fit along with the small round table and chair. Their belongings were settled on the table, Terra's dark maroon boots were placed underneath the chair on the packed stone floor, and Locke had removed the bandanas from his head and sat them on the chair next to the dagger he kept tucked in them. He always believed that you could never have enough protection, especially in the line of work he was in.

He heard movement behind him—it was just Terra shifting over onto her other side facing the wall. She forgot to take her ribbons out of her hair. He saw the pink fabric poke out from the minty green curls. She must have been dead tired. And upset. Banon was always blunt, sometimes way too blunt. Hopefully, nobody else in the Hideout would confront her about the things that she did while under the control of the slave crown. Things like that needed time to settle. He leaned down to the small gas lamp and snuffed it out.

Locke shrugged out of his dark blue jacket and slipped his feet out of his worn boots before trying to settle into bed. The other occupant didn't make a sound when he pulled the blankets over himself as well.

He started out lying on his back, making sure to give Terra plenty of room and not hog the covers. She was so quiet that he thought she had fallen asleep, so Locke let his thoughts drift away to the drama that had been playing on the radio in the common room during dinner.

Surprisingly, the story was not of a young woman chasing after a young man, yearning for his affection and love, whether he was involved with another woman or not, but of a young woman trying to free herself of a man. Edgar, of course, was in raptures over the story, shushing his twin during suspenseful parts. Sabin kept whispering to Terra over their bowls of stew about the things he thought the woman could have done to make the story funnier. The prince didn't seem to like dramas. He had gotten Terra giggling so much that she nearly choked on her bread.

"Hey Locke? Are you asleep?" came a whispery voice from his side.

"Nah. You okay, Ter?" he shifted his head so he could see the vague outline of Terra's curls against the pillow in the darkness.

The bedsprings squeaked as she rolled over to face him, "I think so…I was wondering why you wanted to help me."

The question seemed to drift in the air between them. Locke gulped.

"Because I wanted to. I needed to."

"But you could have left me at the castle and gone on your way."

She had a point. He didn't have to stay with her all this time. He could've sent a message, and let one of the other Returners take over while he continued his duties for Banon. Spying was pretty fun, to be honest.

"Was this your job as a Returner? To stay with me?" she continued. Terra shifted her legs under the blankets; one of her feet brushed against his leg.

His mind stumbled over, trying to find the words. Locke briefly saw a flash of Terra there, on the icy ground in that cave in Narshe, knocked out and shivering. Alone but for him and the firelight.

He bit his lower lip, "I have to stay with you. I helped you escape." Again, the words floated between them. He waited for her to accuse him of only doing his duty as a Returner once more. Only staying because of some sense of pride and self-righteousness.

She didn't say a word.

"I want to stay with you," he took in a deep breath, "We're friends now, Ter. True friends never leave each other's sides…" Locke shifted onto his side and brought his hand up to find her in the dark. He found her arm and held on gently, "I won't let them treat you like you're just a weapon to be used against the Empire. You're a person, and you deserve better than that."

He heard her breath waver as if she was shaking. "Don't you ever forget that."

Locke felt her hands suddenly slide around his torso and up around his shoulders as she hugged him tight. Her soft curls tickled his cheek as she buried her face into his neck. He felt her tears soaking into his shirt. He returned the embrace, bringing her closer, his arms easily wrapping around her small frame. He thought that he might burn up under the blankets with her, but they fell asleep together, holding onto each other as if they were freezing to death in the Narshe mountains.

Notes:

Well, I'm not dead! So hello, back again with an update to this fic after nearly 2 years. I know this is a short chapter, but I have a lot more coming. I was planning on uploading one huge chapter, buuuut once I reached the 18 page mark, I thought it would be better to split the Returner's Hideout into different parts because of everything that happens. The next chapter will be out soon I swear. I have most of it done, and who knows? Maybe I'll have it out by next week once my beta reader gives her feedback? Who knows? It's great to finally be back into writing. I've missed it a lot. Hope you enjoyed!
-Moogle
*Update 12/8/23: Annnnd still doing light edits! Just FYI.

Chapter 9: Great Expectations

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Morning came, and again, Terra was woken up by Locke's noises. The thief was muttering to himself across the small room seated in the chair, seemingly frustrated with the dark gray bandana he was retying around his left wrist. Apparently, it did not want to cooperate with the knot he was trying to tie.

"Godsdamned King freaking waking me up this early…" the knot finally came together. And it seemed that he was not frustrated with the knot so much as he was with Edgar. When did the king come in?

Locke glanced over at Terra, "Morning Ter, sorry if I woke you up." He leaned down to grab his boots and yanked them on roughly, "His royal highness wants us to meet with him in Banon's study." He said this with a mocking accent, trying to mimic Edgar. Terra let out a giggle, to which Locke grinned while lacing up his boots.

"Alright, are we going to have breakfast first though?" she asked, pushing back the blankets, and raising her arms high to try to stretch out her tight muscles. She supposed she was tensing up a lot lately…

"Nope, the jerk says he'll have tea waiting for you, but this is 'important,'" Locke scowled down at his feet. "I don't get why it couldn't wait a bit, but oh no, they gotta talk now."

"What time is it?" Terra asked, moving to the edge of the bed, and reaching for her boots under the table across from her. The room was so small that she was able to grab them easily. She had not noticed the night before how tiny the room was! She must have been more tired than she remembered.

"It's five-thirty! I thought we would be able to get a few more hours of sleep in," he huffed, folding his arms. "I'm going to need more than my normal three cups of coffee if I'm gonna be able to be useful at all today."

Terra stood up carefully to avoid knocking over the candle placed on the shelf carved out of the rock wall above the bed. She ran her fingers through her hair, and they got caught in a few snarls. Maybe after talking with Edgar and Banon, she could take a bath. Locke opened the door and held it open for her while she was pulling at her ribbons to fluff them up around her ponytail. She had left her cloak in the room. The hideout was very warm due to the fireplaces, lamps, and candles lit all over the place.

They passed by a couple of Returners in the passageway who were arguing about guard duty. One claimed that he deserved a break since he had been doing guard duty for the last week, while the other claimed that she needed a day off from it because she was preparing to travel up north. Their voices receded as Terra followed Locke up a few steps and into the dining room. Sabin was seated at the bar sipping at a big mug of coffee while chattering away with the young red-haired woman who was holding a tray with a teapot and a stack of toast.

"He gets coffee but oh, not me, nooo…" Locke pouted, turning his head away, and briskly passed through on the outskirts of the dining tables to reach the doorway in the back of the room. He was still muttering to himself about coffee and being starved to death when they entered Banon's study and led Terra to a pair of oversized cushiony armchairs. He dropped himself down into his seat and glared daggers at Edgar while Terra took the seat next to him.

"Good morning, Terra, I hope you slept well?" Edgar gave her that Figaro smile and handed her a cup of tea from across the small table at the center of their seats. The tea was a pale orange color and smelled like flowers. She thanked him with a smile and blew across the top of the drink to cool it.

"I slept fine. I hope you did as well," Terra replied, watching as Edgar poured himself a cup of the flowery tea. She noticed that the room was much brighter than the night before due to a roaring fire to their left. Terra was able to see maps nailed into the stone walls with different things drawn on them, lines linking the continents, between cities. Above the fireplace was another carved-out shelf with a line of bottles in different shapes containing amber and scarlet liquids.

Somebody coughed loudly from behind them. Terra turned and saw Banon emerging from in between the bookshelves, eyes on her as he approached.

"Oh, I doubt you could have slept very well with Mister Treasure Hunter there clucking over you like a mother hen," Banon chuckled as he entered the circle of chairs and sank into the onyx-colored one next to Edgar. He was holding a large leather-bound volume with fraying at the spine of the book. He received a foul look from Locke at this comment, but just shook his head and flipped through the pages for a few moments before coming to a stop at a page that looked like an illustration from what Terra could see from her place.

"Now, Terra, I would like to tell you a story," Banon addressed her gravely, "You may have heard it before, but it's important."

She nodded slowly, meeting his eyes as she took another sip of her tea. Edgar crossed his legs and shifted so he was facing the older man, though he was watching Terra over the brim of his teacup.

"Once, many, many years ago, when humans were still innocent and pure, the gods and goddesses from above came down from the heavens and placed a mysterious box in their midst. The gods and goddesses explained to the humans that they should never open the box because it was special. They wanted the humans to watch over it for them as a sort of favor." Banon paused, bringing the book up in his lap, the pages facing his stomach, hidden from view.

"Some time passed, enough time for the humans to grow extremely curious about what the box held inside. Those who had witnessed the gods and goddesses bringing the box from above had passed away by that time, and because of this, one particular person felt that they could take a look inside the box without being noticed. But once they opened the box, all of the evils of the world we now know erupted from within and took hold of the planet." Banon turned the book around to show the illustration. It showed a man on his knees before a majestic chest from which horrible creatures flew out all around him in a flurry.

"Pride, gluttony, envy, wrath, hatred, disease, war…but" Banon turned to the next page, "One thing was left inside the box: hope." The next illustration showed a shining star soaring up from the box over the humans beneath a dark, stormy sky. Terra could not take her eyes off the page. A chill ran up her spine.

"Terra, the battle we Returners are fighting is becoming more and more difficult because of everything that Emperor Gestahl has in his power over us, but I believe that if you wanted to join us, you would become our ray of hope, our best chance at saving the world from all of the evils that the Empire is unleashing every moment they're in power," he closed the book and laid it on the table, eyes going between her and Edgar.

She felt a knot grow in her stomach around the tea. She did not notice her hands shaking until she splashed a little of her drink on herself. Locke pulled a spare bandana out of his pocket and reached for her hand to dab up the tea. She let him clean up her hand without really feeling it. Her mind was too busy spinning.

Edgar cleared his throat, "Terra, dear, I know this is a lot to process right now, but please rest assured that no matter what you choose to do, we completely support your decision."

"And we will ensure your safety regardless of your choice. You don't have to worry about us tossing you back to the Empire if you choose not to help us." Banon added with a smirk underneath his bushy beard. The leader heaved himself up from his seat with a long wheezing sigh, "Now, I don't expect you to make a decision right now, young lady. Go on and take some time to think, okay?"

He gestured over to Locke, "I think it might be a good idea to get your mother hen some coffee before he combusts." Banon barked out a laugh and went to disappear into the bookcases.

Terra sat her teacup down on the table after gulping the rest and pulled Locke with her out of the room in a rush before he could snap some retort at Banon. Edgar watched them leave with amusement and finished off his tea.

"She's a special one, that girl," Banon's comment floated out from the shelves gruffly. "From what you've told me, a power like hers could do us some good."

"Yes Banon, I just don't want to force her to join us. We would be no better than the Empire if we did that," Edgar replied loud enough for the man to hear. "I wish Doma would join us instead of staying neutral like Narshe. It could give us more time to work with."

"We both know that time is running out fast, Edgar. Their military power would of course help, but brute strength isn't as valuable as magic of our own."

"I know…" Edgar gave another sigh, lulling his head back into his chair with a light thud. He wondered for the thousandth time what his father would do since he had to leave his castle.


Terra finally let go of Locke's hand once they were in the dining room at one of the square tables and dropped into one of the hardwood chairs, head in her hands. She felt like she had heard that story before, but everything was so foggy in her mind when she tried to remember anything before waking up in Arvis's house in Narshe. The dreams that she had been having seemed so far off, and she kept wondering if there was any truth to them. Or if they were just made up.

Her head was starting to ache again.

A hand rested on her shoulder, but it did not feel like Locke's.

"Hey girlie, want some toast? I got loads here!" came Sabin's voice. Terra lifted her head and saw him holding up a plate with a tall stack of toast covered in butter and a small cup of purple goop that must have been jam. She could not help but smile at his cheery voice.

"Sure, thank you," Terra replied, settling her hands down in front of her, ignoring how the dining room suddenly seemed to be too bright.

Sabin sat the plate on the table and grabbed a chair from another table to join the two with his mug of coffee. She looked up and saw that Locke had been watching her with his eyebrows furrowed.

"That Banon guy seems to like to get into the serious business before the sun comes up, huh?" The prince slurped at his coffee, "He needs to let people wake up before doling out the heavy stuff."

"Edgar told you what's up already?" Locke asked, picking up a piece of toast and taking a big bite.

Sabin nodded, eyes going from Locke to Terra. "Yeah, he needs to cool it too. Gosh, he's been like that since we were kids. Always so damn serious." He handed Terra some toast as he spoke.

Terra slowly ate her breakfast, enjoying the rich taste of the homemade bread. It was even better than what the inn back in South Figaro served up. She closed her eyes and tried to clear her mind of everything but what was happening at that moment. She started feeling comfort finally reach her while sitting in the warm dining room with her new friends and listening to Sabin asking Locke about what all they could do in the Returner's Hideout. He didn't seem to like being idle for long.

The Hideout had a large training room where everybody practiced fighting, which Sabin was very interested in checking out, a series of bathrooms with nice wooden tubs set up with running water, sleeping quarters, and a storage room where they could find some fresh clothes for Sabin since he only had the clothes on his back and a waterskin.

"Will anybody mind me taking a couple of shirts and pants? I don't want to inconvenience anybody," Sabin asked after a loud gulp of coffee and a satisfied sigh.

"Nah, we're always gathering clothes and shoes since we have to do some undercover work, ya know? I bet we can find some stuff that'll fit over those crazy muscles of yours," Locke laughed, grabbing another slice of toast.

Sabin laughed as well, "Hey, you guys will be glad to have a bear like me helping out! I gotta put my training to good use after all."

"Yeah, you're right about that. We've all heard about your master. He would meet up with Banon in town now and then."

The woman from the bar came over with mugs of coffee and a bowl of sugar just then and offered them some.

"Perfect timing Sasha!" Locke chose a green steaming mug and took a sip, heedless of the temperature.

"No problem, Locke!" she brushed her long curly red hair over her shoulder, "I know how you are without coffee, and I figured it would be best to save your friends here from your shit moods." Her brown eyes flicked over to Terra and she gave her a wry smile.

Sabin burst out laughing at this, and Locke shot her a glare, "Jeez, I'm not that bad in the mornings!"

Sasha swept over to Terra's side, ignoring Locke's retort, "Hey, would you like to get freshened up? I heard you guys were traveling for a few days."

"That sounds great, thank you," Terra nodded and stood up from her seat. "I'll go get a change of clothes."


Locke showed Sabin where the training room was and helped set up some dummies for the prince to beat up. The guy was so serious about getting his morning workout done after they finished breakfast that he was already doing pushups by the time Locke left the room.

He refilled his mug of coffee when he passed through the dining room and walked at a leisurely pace down the corridor leading toward the storage rooms. He didn't pass by anybody as he went along but heard faint murmurs from inside a couple of the private bedrooms. It was just now getting to be seven, so many of the Returners were most likely still sleeping. Some were probably beginning to wind down from a long night of keeping watch outside for any intruders.

He found a wooden ladder propped up against the rock wall partially hidden by an old grandfather clock that had stopped ticking. Holding onto his coffee carefully, he started climbing up the ladder and soon reached the trap door. He used his free hand to heave it upwards and it fell with a clang of metal.

"Hey! Who's that?" Locke heard a familiar voice call out, sounding angry at the sudden noise. Wincing into the bright morning sunshine, Locke climbed out of the passageway and was met with a faint breeze and a sighing man shaking his head at him.

"Locke, you should give me a head's up before scaring me like that," the dirty-blond man frowned, crossing his arms.

"Good morning to you too, Henley," Locke laughed as he got to his feet and made his way over to the cluster of stones near the ledge where his friend had set up his things for a day of keeping watch.

He sat his coffee down next to a pile of books on one of the dusty gray stones, "I thought you were supposed to head to South Figaro this morning so you can spend a week keeping an eye on that Addison guy."

Henley scowled at this and ran a hand backward through his messy hair. Locke was not used to seeing his friend without a hat or bandana on his head.

"Banon made me stay here for a few more days since Nell and the guys got caught. Those idiots hung around in Doma too long."

Locke let out a sigh, "So the Empire has already started creeping into the kingdom of Doma…jeez they move fast." He turned his back to one of the taller rocks and leaned backward against it. He saw a flock of black birds riding the wind to the east, letting out caws as they flew.

"Yeah, so Banon is letting that kid back in South Figaro do some spying on Addison, ya know, letting him prove himself and all that," Henley snickered. He turned his head to Locke, "Did you run into that little twerp while you were passing through town?"

"We saw him lighting the lamps in the streets with another kid one night, but he didn't come to talk to me or anything."

"Hmm, must not have had anything to report."

"Or he's probably wanting to tell Banon the news himself," Locke chuckled, "You remember how it was when we were his age. All excited about being in a secret society and getting to do jobs for the greater good."

Henley laughed, "I don't know where Banon finds these kids, but this one was practically hopping up and down when he got his first assignment last month." He reached out and smacked Locke's shoulder lightly, "Kinda like a certain someone when he first joined."

He gave Locke a crooked grin, "You just couldn't wait to show off to Rachel about it either and nearly forgot to deliver those letters on your way back home!"

Locke shook his head, "Gosh, don't remind me."

Henley stood and went to the tall stone next to Locke and leaned down on his folded arms on the top of the stone, gazing out at the valley below. The view from their spot in the mountains was so perfect that he might not even need the binoculars he brought up with him that morning.

"So, is that girl you brought with you, ya know,  that one?  The Imperial Doll?" Henley asked, fixing his gaze on some elk trotting through the tall grasses past the main entrance of the hideout.

"I really hate that nickname you guys have given her," Locke muttered. He looked away from his friend, "And yes, she's the one."

"Blame Fin for the name. He's the one who saw Kefka treating her like some porcelain doll and making her do all of those things." Henley replied, looking to Locke's face. Was he turning red?

"Anyways, is she safe or what?"

"Yes, of course!" Locke bristled and folded his arms roughly. "I wouldn't have brought her with me if she wasn't."

Henley's eyes went wide. His friend's face was definitely red now. From anger? Or something else?


A few Returners who had been staying in Jidoor for the last couple of months arrived the previous morning and boy, did they bring a lot of goodies with them. There was a whole crate almost full of medicines, sacks full of fancy-looking clothes, some good swords and daggers, and relics that weren't sold in South Figaro. Arcell was especially interested in the gloves and bracers.

One of the odd jobs he liked doing was organizing the different things people brought back to the hideout. Not only because he enjoyed inspecting the objects he had never seen before, but because it was a quiet task that helped clear his mind of some of the more difficult things he had to deal with during his missions. The running around spying on people and getting to do sneaky stuff like tampering with the Imperials' machinery and weapons was fun and exciting but seeing the grisly acts the Imperials did to people was hard to forget.

He whispered a prayer to whoever could be listening that he never had to go to the Southern continent ever again.

He sat down one of the parcels his fellow Returners came back with on top of a crate next to the supplies he brought with him so he could start labeling things. With a sigh, he climbed up onto the crate and settled into a comfortable position so he could begin his task.

Light footsteps echoed from the hall and when Arcell looked up, he saw the girl Locke had been dragging around enter the storage room with wide, careful eyes. She wandered over to one of the many bookcases and pulled a book from the shelf. He saw a smile tug at her lips as she ran her hands over the cover of the old book. How was she not cold in that sleeveless dress?

"You're welcome to borrow one of those if you want," he offered, saying the words loud enough to make sure she heard him. She jumped and looked at him. What a skittish girl.

With the heavy book still in her hands, she crossed the room to stand before him, "Your name is Arcell, right?"

He gave her a wide smile, "That's right! And you're Terra, the girl everybody's been talking about," Arcell replied, giving her a wink.

Her eyes fell to the stone floor, probably anxious about what they'd been saying about her.

"Don't worry," Arcell said, pulling her attention back, "Locke told me that you have no interest in going back to the Empire. And if he trusts you, then I do too."

Terra's eyes fluttered to Arcell's rugged face, biting her lip, her knuckles were white with how tight she was gripping that book.

"Thank you," she replied softly, her mouth turning into a small smile.

"Locke seems to like you, Terra. He's such a chivalrous guy around the ladies," Arcell laughed. He picked up a glass bottle filled with a sapphire liquid and stuck a piece of paper to the side. It read "potion" in neat black ink.

"Try not to read too much into certain things he does though," Arcell continued, picking up another small piece of paper and scribbling on it with a pencil.

Terra's eyebrows knit together, "What do you mean?"

"Hmm, let's just say that he has a bit of a complicated past," Arcell looked up from what was in his hands and saw that Terra's shoulders were trembling. "Hey, how about some treasure hunting?"

His suggestion caught Terra's interest, "Where?" She loosened her grip on the book in her hands.

"Around in here!" Arcell waved his arm around, "We're always finding interesting and valuable things during our travels and duties and just tuck them somewhere here in storage. Hardly anybody comes back for anything besides medicines and clothes though."

Terra looked around the cluttered room, "I don't see any grandfather clocks though."

"Ah, so Mister Treasure Hunter taught you that old rule of thumb already?" Arcell chuckled, picking up another bottle that held a bright fluffy scarlet feather that cost quite a bit of gold.

She nodded, eyes on the feather, "Yes, I don't know how to pick locks though."

Arcell shrugged, "Don't worry about that. The only person who locks things up around here is Banon. Everybody else prefers to share what we find since one person may need the item more than another. Go ahead and see if you can find anything useful!"

"Alright, I'll show you what I find," Terra sat down the book on a dusty box and looked around the room, bringing a finger up to her lips in thought. He watched her as she went around a grouping of squat urns filled with shoes and headed to the back of the room.

She inspected in between the crates piled on top of each other near where a lone gas lamp glowed softly, casting deep shadows against the stone wall of the cave.

Seeing the infamous Imperial Doll roam around the storage room all wide-eyed and so curious about everything, peeking into the buckets and urns shoved in random spots, inspecting the candle sconces bolted into the stone walls, and even running her fingers along the edges of a giant replica of a popular portrait hung on the wall was something Arcell hadn't expected.

The last time he saw her, she had that bejeweled crown on her head, mutely following that crazy general around in the city of Vector surrounding the Imperial palace. Kefka had dressed her up in a gaudy maroon and silver dress with flamboyant silks and feathers to match his costume. The wild designs on his red and green attire almost hid how fine the fabrics were. Gestahl paid him well.

The one detail about seeing the Doll that unnerved Arcell to no end was how truly dead her eyes looked every time he got a better look at her fragile face. Looking at the girl now, you couldn't even tell that she could ever wear such an expression.

Hearing noises coming from behind him made Arcell look over his shoulder to see Terra ducking down at one of the hidden passageways.

"Ow!" came a squeak.

"You okay in there?" Arcell called with his free hand up at the side of his mouth to direct his voice at the hole she had crawled into. Scuffling on the rock floor resonated closer and out popped the girl with a bundle in her arms.

She stood up and brushed off her skirt before practically bouncing over to him with an excited smile, "Look at this! What do you think it is?" Terra held the bundle up high which unfolded and whispered down, revealing that it was some sort of cloak. The fabric was snowy white and looked like liquid silk.

He looked at the item, brushed his hand over it, and said, "Wow, this is an expensive relic!"

"What does it do?" Terra lowered her arms so she could see Arcell.

"I think it protects the wearer from some sort of monster technique. You can wear it like a cape." Arcell smiled at her. Then he had a thought and held up a finger signaling for her to wait a moment. He rummaged around the pile of jars he accumulated and soon found the item.

"Here, you might find this useful too!" It was the bottle that housed the red fluffy feather inside. He held it out to her while making full eye contact with her. Not a hint of the empty porcelain doll he had seen back in Vector to be found there in her bright green eyes.

"Thanks," Terra took the bottle from him with a smile and carefully wrapped it up in the cape. Her mood must have improved a lot while treasure hunting. "This was fun, Arcell."

"No problem," Arcell couldn't take his eyes off her, the way she moved, no puppet strings or ball joints. No wonder Locke was so interested…

As she turned around to leave, he added, "Hey, if our Mister Treasure Hunter gives you any trouble, you can come talk to me about it."

Her head turned back to him, studying him with confusion, "What do you mean?"

"I mean that I know how to knock his head back on straight!" Arcell winked at her again.

Terra mumbled another thank you, this time with pure befuddlement, before walking out of the storage room with her new possessions. Arcell couldn't help but wonder what was coming next. Ever since losing his doll, they'd heard about Kefka being on a rampage. How long would it take for that bat-shit crazy general to find her here?

Arcell made up his mind to go speak to Banon later about how they might need to move her somewhere else if they didn't want the hideout destroyed.


"URAH!"

The practice dummy fell over with a dull thud on the floor, pummeled to bits with its arms now missing and straw fluttering down all around it.

Sabin wiped the sweat from his brow with a contented sigh. The blitz technique Master Duncan taught him made him feel utterly powerful, so much so that his skin tingled and his heart was pounding with joy. He made his way over to the line of stools along the back wall and sat down for a breather.

Just as he was thinking about going to see Miss Sasha in the kitchen for some fresh water for a hard-working martial artist, a familiar minty fluffy head poked around the corner.

"Wow," she stepped into the room, looking around as if expecting to see other people training as well.

"You saw?" Sabin couldn't help the wide grin that came across his face as he said this. Terra nodded at him, continuing towards him while taking in the aftermath of his training session. Straw was all over the place now and all the other practice dummies were strewn about, most falling apart at the seams save for just a couple cowering together in the corner next to the enormous weapons cabinet.

She brought her hands together in front of her once she came to a stop close by, "Hold out your hands?" Terra looked at him shyly.

Curious about what the girl was up to, he nodded and held up his large, calloused hands next to her small thin fingers. Then little lime green sparks jumped out of her palms and bounced over to his skin. Before he could ask what in the world she was doing, he felt the effects of the sparks as they bubbled and absorbed into his hands. It felt as if tendrils of light were rushing into his arms and spreading throughout him as if following along his blood vessels and arteries. His tired muscles were easing and the scuffs on his knuckles disappeared altogether.

"WOAH!" He couldn't help exclaiming, causing her to jump, and the sparks skittered away with a puff of steam. "How did you do that?!" Sabin was on his feet now, mouth agape as he inspected his hands and arms. Within seconds he went from feeling the burn from a good training session to as spry and energetic as if he had woken up from a great night's sleep!

Terra stammered, "Well I, um, it just comes naturally to me." She shuffled away from the prince, cheeks pink.

Sabin couldn't keep the smile off his face, "Wow, Ed told me you can use magic, but it's so amazing to see it up close like this!" He started squatting and stretching his limbs all around as he continued, "I mean, I saw you using fire spells, but I didn't know you could use that magic to heal too!"

"I'm glad it helped you," Terra replied. Her face was getting pinker. Was she embarrassed by her magic? Sabin stopped his stretching and clapped his hands together with inspiration.

"Hey, do ya think you could teach me magic too?" he crouched down so he was at eye level with the mage. She couldn't look away from his intense stare.

"I-I'm not sure if I can…" she said, wringing her hands into the front of her dress. Sabin kept watching her, not wavering while she bit her lip and looked down at the straw at her feet.

"Wait, that energy you use for your fighting? What is that exactly?" Terra looked back up at him.

Sabin straightened and screwed his face up in thought. He had always had trouble verbalizing what his master had taught him over the years. Vargas was usually the one to explain to the travelers who would pass by during their journeys. He always spoke so confidently about their teachings, just like his father. He always had such pride in his voice, especially once the travelers started oooo-ing and ahh-ing about how amazing it all was.

"It's kinda like trying to focus really hard on the energy within myself? Like around the gut area," He pointed at his stomach, nodding at himself as he spoke. "I imagine there's a big ball of energy swirling around in there and imagine it coming out and doing what I want."

He dropped his hand when he saw Terra staring up at him with her mouth slightly open, eyes wide, and brows raised. Gods, she must think he sounds like a dunce.

He started rubbing at his temple and scratching through his hairline, "Ha-ha, I know that probably sounds weird, but it's the only way I can think to explain!" Sabin grimaced at himself, avoiding looking back at her. "Well, I'm gonna go get some water! I'm parched after all that!"

A small hand tugged on his arm when he started walking to the door, "No, wait!"

He stopped trying to get away when he saw how her eyes shone, "I understand what you mean! My magic feels similar!" Her face broke out into a big smile. The girl was damn near hopping up and down in her excitement. "Let's see if I can teach you magic, Sabin!"

"Hell yeah! Now we're talkin'!"

And for the next couple of hours, the pair worked on trying to come up with different ways to get spells to come out of Sabin. If his blitzes were similar to magic, then surely, he could cast a fire spell! Terra described different ways to help Sabin harness his inner energies.

Maybe hold his hands up and aim them at one of the remaining practice dummies and yell "fire!" at it? Maybe try to use his emotions to focus that energy to give more fuel to the fire spells? Happiness to bring a high feeling to his energies? Or anger to churn everything around into a whirlwind?

But after they tried everything Terra could think of, they stood together facing the dummy dejected. Those black button eyes on the dummy seemed to show relief at not being burned to a crisp.

"Man, maybe my blitzes are just a weird martial arts thing," Sabin huffed and puffed, crouching down in the straw. Waving his arms around and trying to force different emotions was making him achier than doing a thousand sit-ups!

Terra crossed her arms in thought, shaking her head, "The way you described your blitzes is so similar to my magic though…" She took a few steps towards the dummy and shot a ball of fire at it from her hand in frustration.

Sabin gasped, "Wait! I have an idea!" He jumped up, fists ready for action, "How's about we combine our power?!"

Terra chewed on her bottom lip for a moment before saying, "Okay, I'll heal your burns if it goes wrong…"

Sabin laughed, "It'll work! We gotta try!" He started bouncing on the balls of his feet, loosening up his legs, and stretched his arms out above him before bringing them back into fists in his fighting stance.

"On three!" He exclaimed, focusing on the energy in his core. Terra nodded and faced him.

"One," she said, extending an arm out to him, "Two…" She hoped he wouldn't get too burnt…

"THREE!" Sabin bellowed. Terra winced as she let her spell fly.

At first, the fire seemed to envelop Sabin as if it was going to burn him up, but she felt a surge of power coming from the prince in a sharp burst. And then she saw the pale shimmery light come from Sabin and twist up with her fire before it whirled around and with a roar, it splattered onto the practice dummy. The impact blasted sparks at them and threw them back. Sabin managed to stay on his feet with his arms crossed over his face, but Terra landed on her butt and slid further until she hit the rock wall at the other end of the room. Dust rained down on them from the ceiling and whatever straw that wasn't scorched from the fire flew back and hit the wall all around Terra. Terra was rubbing the back of her head where it bumped against the wall. It didn't hit hard enough to leave a knot thankfully.

"Holy shit! That was amazing!" Sabin rushed over to Terra and yanked her up by the arm, "Lookit that!" He was pointing at the now smoking practice dummy across the room, on the rock floor, defeated.

"We've got to do that again!" Sabin pulled her into a bear hug, sweeping her literally off her feet like she was a rag doll.

Taking in deep breaths, Terra laughed, "Yeah, hopefully, it'll work again."

"It will, it will!" Sabin put her back down before running to the last practice dummy so he could replace the newly demolished one. Parts of it disintegrated when he picked it up, which made him smile wider. He tossed it to the other side of the room, adding ashes to the mess that was covering the floor.

This was the most fun he'd had during a training session in years!

Once the last fresh dummy was in place, Sabin went to the center of the room and resumed his fighting stance.

Terra stood off to the side, hand aimed at him, "Okay, like before?"

He nodded, and after counting down, fire flew and his blitz energy transformed the flames into a mighty burst that rolled into the dummy, but this time the impact seemed more contained to just the target. They were not shoved away by the blast. Only sparks jumped around in the air before fizzling into smoke.

Dumbstruck, Terra looked to Sabin, "Did you do that? Or was my spell not strong enough?"

Sabin shook his head, "No, it felt the same when it hit me this time! I focused super hard on making it only hit the dummy though!"

Upon closer inspection when Terra got near the remains, she saw how there was a sort of ring scorched onto the stone floor. He had certainly contained the blast. If only they had more targets! Who knew what else they could do with their mix of magic and blitz?

She glanced over and saw Sabin plop down onto one of the stools lining the back wall with a goofy smile on his face. "Man, maybe if we keep practicing together, you think I could conjure up my own fire sometime instead of borrowing yours, Terra?"

She joined him at the stools, "After seeing this, I guess anything is possible!" She sat next to him with a sigh, "This was a lot of fun, Sabin."

He stretched his arms up, causing his shoulder joints to crack and pop. He looked down at her once he rested his hands on his knees, definitely feeling the burn in his muscles now. She was looking up at the ceiling as if trying to read some secret message written on the rocks, her fluffy head leaning back against the wall.

He looked up at the ceiling too, "There's nothing like a good training session to help clear my mind."

"Yeah," Her smile had faded. "Everything is getting foggy again in my mind though. I don't know what to do."

"All right, I'll be honest with ya girlie, I'm not too good with all of this serious war stuff that Ed and them keep talking about," Sabin gave her arm a nudge with his, "But, I do know that I trust my brother completely. He's always thought about what's best for everybody else and what's fair."

Terra looked over at the prince, "I suppose that's what makes him a good king." She closed her eyes with a smile and whispered, "Cure."

A big bubble of sage green emerged from her and enveloped them both inside. Before Sabin could ask what in blazes it was, the bubble popped, and the spell soaked into them. The rushing effects of the spell made his head spin as he felt that light wipe away his weariness at a much faster rate than earlier.

He made a mental note to ask her how to cast that spell too.

"Well, well, well! Who could have guessed that I would find you two training together!" Edgar's grand voice filled the room. He was walking towards the pair, arms outstretched as if he planned to embrace them both. "I suppose the Returners will need to invest in more sturdy equipment if we're going to be sticking around judging by the destruction!"

The king dropped to one knee before Terra and stole her hand for a kiss in greeting. She just gave him one of her shy little smiles in return. Her cheeks didn't get pink for him though. Perhaps his brother's antics with the girl had lost their luster already.

"Hey, bro! Finished with all of your yakking with Banon?" Sabin stood from his seat and hugged Edgar. Edgar gave him a sharp look, that same look he used to give him when they were boys and Sabin was about to blabber all their pranks to their mother. It always made him feel like he got his hand smacked. He clammed up. He saw that Terra's smile dropped at the mention of Banon.

"Actually, I was in the study doing some reading. I recognized some of the titles from our father's old collection." Edgar chuckled, "What an interesting coincidence. I wonder if our treasure hunter friend has anything to do with it?" He crouched down in front of Terra, tapping his index finger to his lips in thought.

"Maybe you can ask him at dinner later?" Terra replied, giving him a giggle. Edgar's demeanor had changed from his usual confident lady killer persona to something softer, more kind while he agreed with Terra.

Sabin offered a hand to Edgar to help him back up, "So Ed, did you happen to overhear what we were talking about?" He ignored his brother mouthing at him to shut up. Sabin knew he couldn't offer much help besides being extra muscle. Terra needed to hear from somebody who knew about all the strategizing and fine details.

Only hearing bits and pieces from his master over the years about what the Empire has been up to didn't mean Sabin knew anything. He was as new to all this Returner stuff as Terra was. All the hush-hush wouldn't help anybody with deciding on what to do.

Realizing that Sabin wouldn't let him try to charm his way out of talking, Edgar gave a heavy exhale through his nose.

"Yes, I didn't mean to intrude." Edgar leaned down to grab both of Terra's hands in his to pull her up from her stool. She allowed this, her legs looked a bit shaky. Maybe casting that healing spell made her weak? Healing wounds but taking up stamina?

"What do you think I should do, Edgar?" Terra asked, now looking from the king to the prince, worry painting her face. She still held onto Edgar's hands while she waited for his answer.

Her directness made Sabin raise an eyebrow. He snapped it back down before Terra could notice. He saw his brother swallow hard. He must not have been expecting to have this conversation.

"Okay, I can give you two different answers, my dear. One answer is as a king, and the other is as your friend. I won't try to guilt or coerce you with theatrics, so do keep that in mind." She gave him a nod.

"By helping the Returners with this war, you will be helping us achieve peace. Our enemy is ruthless, as you've seen and experienced firsthand, and your special…abilities would be extremely useful. I believe in this cause because I wish for a better future for my kingdom and the whole world. My father joined in with the Returners when I was young because he saw what the Empire was trying to accomplish and knew that he needed to do everything within his power to protect his kingdom. I am following in those footsteps." Edgar paused, looking at their joined hands.

A smile spread on his face as he continued, "As your friend, I believe that by helping us you may be able to learn more about yourself. We'll be able to travel and seeing different places may trigger memories that have been hidden away by that slave crown."

Curiosity bubbled around in Sabin's head. What were these hidden memories? How many had she already told Edgar and Locke about? Gosh, he felt like such a Nosy Nancy.

"As odd as it may sound to you both, any reason to join us is a good reason. Some are helping due to selfish reasons such as wanting to make amends for loved ones they have lost when their homes were destroyed and wishing for vengeance. Some are working for the good of humanity." Edgar now looked at his brother, his eyes were shining brilliantly.

"All of those reasons are okay at the end of the day. When people are driven towards a common goal together, they can grow, and be able to help build hope for the world."

Sabin couldn't help but smile at his brother. He spoke like a true king.

Terra seemed to be moved by the speech, her eyes were glistening. "I hope that I can find my reason soon…" She dropped her gaze to the floor and let her hands slip from Edgar's. "I'll see you two later." And with that, Terra hurried from the room, ashes stuck to her boots and made footprints in her wake.

Sabin turned to his brother after waiting for the sound of her footsteps to disappear, hand on his hip, "You've gotten really good at speechifying, Ed. Lots of practice during your kingly duties?"

Edgar sighed at Sabin, "I was being honest with her, dear brother." He folded his arms and rolled his eyes. "I'm hurt that you think I was being dramatic!"

Sabin shrugged at him, "Heh, well I'm glad that you talked to her about it instead of letting her flounder."

"I suppose she should hear different perspectives on the matter." Edgar took a step closer, "Did I sound too much like Banon?"

The grimace on his face made Sabin start laughing. Seeing annoyance spark on his twin's face got Sabin laughing harder which earned him a slap on the shoulder.

"Nah! You were nowhere near as grumpy about it!" Sabin managed to say before snorting and slapping back at Edgar's arm.

Edgar shook his head at his twin, "Thanks, sort of."

And with that, the pair left the training room and followed the hall down to the common room. The smell of spices drifted out from the back kitchens. Sabin had finally stopped snickering at his brother. He was too sensitive about his kingly abilities! The fact that Terra started tearing up showed how well Edgar could convey his feelings behind his words.

As they took seats at one of the freshly scrubbed tables, Sabin kept thinking about his reasons for wanting to help. He knew that Master Duncan would rest easier knowing that his teachings would help bring peace to the world. If there was one thing Sabin had always been good at, it was putting up a good fight.


Terra had been trying to avoid thinking about the question all day, but everywhere she turned, everyone she found, no matter the distraction, she just couldn't shake it.

She could tell that Edgar was trying to be kind and reassuring that morning. Offering support, no matter what she chose to do.

But Edgar was a king. He had a castle that had just gotten attacked to think about. He had a city that was full of people he cared for. His entire kingdom rested on his shoulders, and his decisions did not just affect himself, but the lives of thousands of people.

Despite Edgar's pretty words, Terra could tell that he was praying with all of his heart that she would help the Returners, and in turn, his kingdom.

Then there was her first-ever friend, Locke. Wouldn't he be biased too? He was a Returner after all. They all want her help.

Everything was moving so fast ever since she woke up in Narshe.

Running, hiding, fighting, traveling. Always on the move.

Nearly every time Terra had moments alone, moments to catch her breath and try to still her whirling mind and pounding heart, snippets of what had to be her past would resurface. Even in her sleep, she could not escape for long.

The dream with that blonde girl stuck out in her mind as the only good memory so far, but even it was soured by that man at the end. The disdain in his voice when he spoke about her testing made her wonder if he worried about her.

At the castle, he kept screaming for her, screaming that she belonged to him. He wanted her. His voice was so desperate. He had magic of his own and it was so powerful, so why did he want her so badly?

Terra at last came to the room she slept in the night before and upon opening the door, found Locke inside pulling his shirt over his head. A clean gray tank top was on the bed with his midnight blue jacket.

"Ah! Hey!" he struggled with the shirt and jerked to face the wall.

"It's just me," Terra closed the door behind her and took only one step to reach the chair and sat down. She unbuttoned her pack to retrieve a fresh pair of stockings.

Locke let out a puff of air, "Phew, thought it might've been some pervert king. Never know who his next victim will be." His bandanas were askew after toiling with swapping his shirts out. He flashed her a smile while undoing one of his bandanas to fix it back in place.

Terra let her stockings rest in her lap and motioned with her hands for him to come closer. She reached up and grabbed his bandana to take over. He leaned down and let Terra get to work. He angled his nose away from her. She settled his pale doe brown hair into place and made the first knot.

One of his ruby beaded earrings was tucked up into a purple scarf, and while she carefully freed it, she murmured, "I still don't know what to do, Locke."

His eyebrows raised a bit. She reached up to settle another one of his bandanas back where it should be and continued, "Can you tell me why you joined the Returners?"

He turned away when she had finished with his hair, staying quiet. Deciding to go ahead and change her stockings while he had his back turned, she said, "Edgar and Sabin told me why they're helping. They're both so full of purpose…what's your reason?"

She watched him sit down on the bed opposite her in the tiny room. He intertwined his fingers together and his eyes were trained on the floor. "There was an attack on my home village. A lot of people died." He wouldn't look at her.

"All I could do was run and hide in the woods to wait it out. I'd never felt so helpless before," his hands were shaking as he spoke. "That was the first time I had ever seen Magitek armor, too."

A shiver went down Terra's spine. Wait a minute. She poured through everything she could remember while she stared at Locke's hands grasping each other.

The question spilled out of her mouth before she could stop, "Wait, d-did I-?" No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't remember being part of an attack on a village that wasn't Narshe. How could he stand to be in the same room as her?

He looked at her now paling face. Both of her hands jumped up to cover her mouth. Tears were threatening to fall from her eyes, so she squeezed them shut. She couldn't look at him.

"What? Terra, no, you didn't do any of that!" She felt one of his hands pull at her forearm, causing her to nearly slide off the chair. She braced herself with her feet. "You couldn't have been part of that attack. You were way too young!"

"How long ago?" She let him take her other arm, but she still couldn't open her eyes.

"Mmm, about eight years ago? I was sixteen when it happened. But I had been hanging out with a few members of the Returners for a while before actually joining."

Locke's hands slid down to hold hers. He had stopped shaking. "Back then, I thought it would be cool to travel with the Returners and make a name for myself. That attack is what lit a fire under my ass to commit to joining the cause. After losing her." He cut himself off abruptly.

Terra peeked up at him and saw him shake his head, "After losing so many people that I loved, I wanted to try to do something to prevent more people from ending up like me."

She looked at their joined hands between them. Relief washed over her that she wasn't part of that attack. Guilt still muddied those feelings though. How much destruction and bloodshed has Locke seen over the years? It was surprising that he wanted to be near her at all.

"I'm sorry," Terra looked up at his face. She had not seen his eyes so full of pain before, but resolve was there too. Determination. He wanted to turn that pain into change. He nodded at her and squeezed her hands.

She bit the inside of her cheek, "I'm going to help." Saying it out loud made some of the fog in her head clear. Locke pulled her close in a tight hug before she could try to say anything else.

Inhaling deeply into Locke's shoulder, Terra felt the weight of the decision anchor her down. Instead of running, wanting to curl up and hide, a new feeling bloomed for her. Uncertainty was still present, but with it now was a yearning to move forward, away from the horrors of her past. By joining the Returners, Terra knew that she could become more than a weapon for the Empire.

She wanted to become herself at last.

Notes:

This was a fun chapter to write, and I hope it was a fun read. I have a bit of the next chapter written, so I'm hoping to get it finished within the next month or two.
Thanks for reading!
*Update 12/8/23: Yup, still doing light edits. Why the unnecessary commas, past self, why? lol

Chapter 10: Partings in the Night

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Smoke rings floated up towards the evening sky, staying in shape for several moments before coming apart and dissipating into the air around them, heavy with pollen and humidity. Insects were beginning their nightly songs to each other, and birds retreated to their nests.

"The sky was red this morning," Banon said in his gruff voice, letting out another puff of smoke, "Do you know the old saying about red skies?"

Terra stood a few feet away, leaning against a tree and looking up at the sky, seeing how stars were starting to fade into view. She shook her head.

"Red skies in morning, sailors take warning." He watched the girl, "Means that a storm's coming." The small orange light from his pipe flared as he continued smoking.

The aroma from the tobacco made images drift into her mind. Stuffy dim rooms that had metal walls. An older man with deep wrinkles under his worn eyes, and long gray hair swept over his shoulder, staring at her. Watching her. Always watching her.

She shook her head of the memory and the dread it brought with it and looked down from the sky to the leader of the Returners. At least he didn't give her those uneasy feelings like whoever that man from her memories did. So many people from those memories made her tense and a large part of her wished that those memories would not return. Why couldn't she only get nice memories back? Like that dream with the blonde girl?

"Well, whatever kind of storm is coming, I know that I want to help the Returners." She did her best to keep fear from creeping onto her face.

"I knew that you were a brave girl," Banon nodded and put away his pipe. He went up to Terra and withdrew an item from a pocket on his outer jacket. "This relic will help harness that bravery and give you strength."

She took it and saw that it was a leather bracer with brass buttons going up one side. Once she slipped her hand inside, carefully fitting her thumb through a tough loop that was padded, she felt a strange sensation seep into her hand. "Thank you," she said softly, turning her hand over to examine how different parts of the armguard were reinforced with metals with strange symbols engraved into the pieces. She made a mental note to ask him what the characters meant after the meeting.

"Go on inside and get some dinner; we'll start the meeting after I prepare a map for us." He waved her off to the heavy stone door that Tom had left open.

Shadows were growing longer in the corridor as night fell. Some of the candles lining the stone walls had burned out. Milky wax was pooling in the candleholders as the smoke hung around the candles, too weak to move around from the folded-over wicks, creating a haze that lingered in the air.

Pairs of Returners ambled down the corridor towards the common room. The snippets of conversation she overheard comprised of who was next to travel down south, recent messages they intercepted on the radio from the Imperial troops, and hopes of what would happen next in the weekly radio dramas. The one airing the next day was about evil blood-sucking creatures plaguing a village and a group of heroes storming the ancient castle where the monsters hid out during the day.

Terra followed along and made her way through the crowded room over to the empty seat next to Locke at the bar. He was holding a tall glass containing a frothy golden-hued drink, talking with the Returners on his other side about what style of clothing to wear in a town called Albrook. One of the men was grumbling about starchy high collars while the other was telling him that he was lucky to get assigned to Albrook instead of Vector.

Locke noticed Terra once she had settled her hands in front of her on the counter and leaned forward so she could watch the conversation. "There you are!" He clapped her on the back, "I've been wondering where you got to."

"I was talking with Banon," she replied, looking away when her comment caught the attention of the Returners next to Locke.

"Hey, hey! Tell us what you think I should wear to Albrook! You've surely been there a lot, right?!" The male Returner who had been complaining slapped the counter at her. The thick lenses of his glasses made his eyes appear much larger than they were. His cheeks were flushed. She noticed that he had a similar drink to Locke's.

"Um…I'm not sure," she kept her head down, letting her long curly bangs hang in her face. She knew that name, but like many things, it lay beyond her grasp in her mind. Everything was so murky in her head.

A glass was set next to her hands on the counter, and with a glance up, she saw the middle-aged woman Cath giving her a gentle smile. "Here you go, hun. A bit of wine with dinner might help you feel better." Terra gave her a weak smile in return and took a sip from the round glass. The deep red wine tasted sweet and made her shiver.

She looked back over at the Returners and thankfully, Locke had taken over the conversation, going on about how the guy needed to ditch his dorky glasses so the Imperials wouldn't single him out. Wearing unique accessories would make it too easy for them to find him later if he got into trouble. Blending in was his best bet.

The bespeckled Returner was not happy with this advice and kept going back and forth with Locke about his disguise. The other Returner had not joined back in the conversation though. He was watching her with narrowed eyes over his drink and only looked away when Cath and another surly-looking male Returner named Torsten started setting out plates full of food for everybody.

Soon the room was filled with the smell of crispy meatloaf, spiced summer vegetables, and freshly baked bread. The chattering from the different groups didn't stop once they began eating. Terra tried to brush off the unease from that Returner who was glaring at her and enjoy her meal. She heard the Figaro twins nearby complimenting the food and the giggles from Sasha.

She would smile when Locke elbowed her, grabbing her attention so she could join in with the joking with the huge lens-wearing Returner. The guy seemed to be feeling better about his trip and was coming up with elaborate ideas about ways to mess with the lower-ranking Imperial soldiers in green uniforms. Those were the soldiers who were always looking for fights and would be easy to trick.

While Locke was having Terra try some of his drink since she could not remember if she had ever tasted beer before, Banon entered the room. He had a large rolled-up parchment tucked under his arm and was buffing at the lenses of his reading glasses with a cloth as he descended the steps and made his way to the head of the largest table in the common room. He eyed everybody in turn before placing the glasses on his nose and unrolled the parchment so he could tack it up on the wall behind him. It was a world map with markings all over it and he had a red stick of chalk in his hand, which he used to point at the map.

A hush fell over the room, all watching him as he drew a circle around a name printed next to the sea and drew an arrow north to another name printed at the base of a stretch of mountains.

"So, everybody, I assume you all know about what happened to Figaro Castle. It is easy to guess what's coming next, but the question is how quickly will the Empire strike next?" Banon addressed the crowd, his deep voice carried across the room. Many heads nodded in the crowd.

"That kid Caleb in South Figaro said that the Addisons have been sending an awful lot of letters recently," one woman said after raising her hand.

"Yeah, but he hasn't managed to steal any letters for us though," another Returner added with an annoyed sigh.

"Any information we can use is good information," Banon said, "And thankfully, we have a certain somebody who can give us insider info." He gestured to Terra. She glanced around the room, seeing that nearly all eyes were on her now.

"Once her memories start coming back in more detail of course." Banon continued, "All the digging Arcell and Fin did at Vector a few months ago turned up some documents about that crown they put on her. That thing causes severe memory loss for the wearer."

One Returner at a nearby table raised his hand, sneering over at Terra, "How can we trust that though?"

"Yeah! What if she's a spy?!" the Returner who had been glaring at her during dinner interjected, "For all we know, those documents could've been fake!" She saw Locke's jaw clench after that comment.

Many of the Returners started murmuring amongst themselves. Terra had a feeling this would happen. She didn't blame them though. After all the things she did, whether she remembered or not, she would have trouble trusting her too if she were in their shoes. She was the enemy up until recently.

The leader of the Returners clapped his hands together sharply, "Shut it!" he barked out, "Consider this: if she is indeed a spy for that crazy peacock,  we  have her at the moment. We will be able to keep an eye on her and make decisions if she starts doing anything suspicious."

Across the room, Terra saw Arcell shrug and say, "That's a good point! And since Locke went through the trouble of bringing her here, I figure she's not going to run back to the Empire." The Returners at his table all agreed, looking from her to Banon.

"Yeah, we all know how Locke is, so if she was some spy, he would have figured it out by now!" Henley snickered from his seat. "Such a nosy mother hen, that one is!" He shot Locke a mocking grin. Payback from the night before?

Locke bristled and looked about ready to yell back at Henley, especially when Sabin snorted into his drink, sloshing foam all over the table, but Banon cut everybody off with another, "Shut it!"

Edgar wiped his mouth daintily before raising his hand to speak, "Even though they are most likely going to take over my dear city, I wanted to bring up the situation with Narshe, Banon. What do you have in mind regarding the Empire possibly invading Narshe again?"

"I believe it's a high possibility. From everything we've gathered so far, it seems that Emperor Gestahl has been summoning scholars from around the world to study espers over the last twenty years while developing all of those Magitek monstrosities. Only one connection comes to mind…" Banon folded his arms and walked back to the map on the wall.

"Espers and Magitek…wait, you don't mean?" one of the Returners gasped.

"The War of the Magi! It couldn't be happening again!" another chimed in, a very nervous smile on his face, "That's just crazy!" He gulped down the rest of his drink in one go and sat it roughly on the table.

"Yes, that is what the writing on the wall is spelling out." Banon said gravely, "There are many different theories about what happened a thousand years ago. One theory says that energy drained directly from espers powered machines and that ordinary humans were infused with that same energy, allowing them to use magic. That must be why they want that frozen esper so badly."

"Perhaps we can get magical machines of our own to fight the Empire then. Fight fire with fire so to speak," Edgar mused, "Hijacking some of their armor might be possible with some creativity!"

"We need to be careful with that. It could be much more trouble than it's worth," Banon grimaced at Edgar, shaking his head.

"Then what do you propose?"

"I was wondering if we could try to have a chat with that frozen esper in Narshe," Banon unfolded his arms and stepped over to Terra and Locke with a stern look, his mustache and beard making him look even more severe. "It's risky, but that esper reacted to you, Terra. If we can get it to react again, we may be able to wake that thing back up and ask it for help!"

Terra's mouth dropped open in surprise. All she could remember of that esper was a flashing light, then darkness and cold. She pushed that memory away and nodded, "I'll do my best!" She clenched her fists on her lap, maintaining eye contact with Banon, hoping to convince him further of her resolve to help.

"I'm gonna hold you to that, girl," Banon smirked and went back to the map, preparing to continue their discussion about the particulars of how to proceed when a crash sounded from the corridor along with a yelp.

Within seconds, Returners around the room jumped to their feet and hurried out.

"Shit! We need some help out here!" a voice yelled from the corridor, echoing into the common room.

Locke grabbed Terra's hand and pulled her with him as he raced out with the crowd.

Blood was everywhere. Tom was dragging a man into the hideout, holding him under each armpit, and with every pull the man cried out.

Blood was turning his blond hair rusty and was dribbling out the side of his mouth. His face was lumpy with blue and purple bruises and smeared with dirt and sweat. One of his arms was bent at a very wrong angle and his tattered jeans were covered in mud.

Another Returner came through the huge door, looking not much better than his comrade. He had a large canvas bag over one shoulder and a sheathed sword in his hand which he was using as a cane.

Banon pushed his way through the crowd and demanded an explanation, crouching down next to the coughing Returner in Tom's arms. He and other Returners in the crowd were pulling potions out and made both injured men drink them down quickly.

"The Empire's on their way," The Returner on the ground croaked, chest heaving as he released shuddering breaths.

The other Returner dropped the canvas bag next to him and took another potion offered to him, "We were barely able to lose them in the mountains. Those bastards brought hounds with them."

"We don't have a moment to lose!" Banon declared, calling attention to him. "Everybody, grab what supplies you can carry and split up! We've got to hightail it to Narshe!"

People took off in different directions to the sleeping quarters and storage rooms and clamored over grouping up and whether they should take the mountain trails or straight through the valley north.

Banon pulled out a round bottle from his coat with a bubbly maroon liquid inside and knelt next to the injured Returner. "This here's an elixir. If anybody could use it right now, it's you. Drink up!"

He mumbled his thanks and drank deeply. Banon grabbed Tom's hand, "You two head to one of the safe houses down the mountain range after you set his arm back into place. Only bring two more people with you so you won't draw too much attention."

With a nod, Tom agreed and hurried off to the storage rooms with the rest of the crowd after settling the injured man against the wall so he wouldn't get run over during all the commotion.

Terra could not take her eyes off the blood stains on the floor. The sight of the injured men made goosebumps rise on her bare arms. Hazy images surfaced in her mind even though she tried to grimace them away.

She was following a younger version of Kefka and a tall, broad man with dark skin dressed in an ivy-green coat with golden symbols climbing up his left sleeve. His ashy blond hair was shaved neatly along the sides of his head and left a short tuft at the crown. A military haircut. She could see the top of a curling tattoo peeking out from his high collar.

All around them were bodies on the cobblestone street. Some were still moving. Fires were still burning in the buildings and the flower beds.

" Damn weaklings! Why did you recruit such pathetic little boys for the infantry, Leo?" Kefka scowled up at the taller man.

" You know, sometimes I want to cut that tongue of yours out, Kefka," the man said through gritted teeth and turned his head down to return the scowl.

She stood with Locke and the twins, her nails digging into her palms as she shoved the memory away, barely hearing what Banon was saying to them until Locke said in nearly a shout, "I can't go to South Figaro, Banon! Especially not alone!"

"Dammit Locke, you're the only person here who's been inside that Addison mansion who'd be able to get back out of the city alive! Having somebody with you would slow you down." Banon roared, stepping close, eyes ablaze. "I need you to slow down those Imperials so we can have more time to work with."

"Yes, you've always had a talent for gathering intelligence quickly, too," Edgar folded his arms. His eyes flicked over to Terra, "We need to move fast so we can keep Kefka away from Terra."

"And that bastard Addison has been getting mouthy in the newspapers. He's not hiding the fact that he's helping the Empire," Banon glowered. He turned away, fists clenched, and watched Returners rush around, some already leaving together with backpacks full.

Locke exhaled roughly, glaring at Banon with pure indignation, "Fine, I'll do it. I'll snoop around and throw monkey wrenches in the Imperials' plans, then I'm going to Narshe as soon as I can."

Banon turned back to the group and grabbed Locke's shoulder, "Good, now hurry up and get going! We'll make sure that devious king keeps his hands off your little chick, Momma Hen!" He gruffed out a rumbly laugh and let go of Locke. When he saw Terra look from him to Edgar with utter confusion, Banon shook his head and walked off to his library to pack up his things.

Snatching Terra's hand, Locke stomped away, and she swore he was growling to himself as they went. His grip on her hand was so tight that she wondered if he was going to leave a bruise. She heard the Figaro twins chattering behind them and could still hear them when Locke closed the door of their small room.

Before she could say anything, he whirled around and pulled her into a hug so tight he managed to squeeze the air from her lungs. Her arms had gotten trapped between them, and with the vice-like hold on her, Terra couldn't return the embrace. One arm held around the small of her back while the other wrapped around so that he was grasping at the back of her head, and she could feel his heartbeat against her. The quickening pulse underlined the gravity of their situation.

He had to leave her for the first time since they'd met.

Sure, she wouldn't be completely alone. The Figaro twins and Banon would be with her, but the thought of them parting had never even crossed Terra's mind before.

With a shuddering breath, Terra started, "Locke, I…" She felt him bury his face in the crook of her neck. He must feel how hard her heart was beating now.

"Please, don't worry, Ter. It'll be okay," he said, his breath warming her skin. The warmth made her realize that she had been shaking. She let her head sink against him, inhaling deeply. He smelled like denim, spices, and that crisp fresh scent that trees emit on sunny days. Like adventure. It was always so comforting to her.

She wished that he'd let her move her arms so she could wrap her arms around him too, so she could show how much she was going to miss him. Something in her heart squeezed. Had she ever felt like this before?

"I'll be back before you know it," his fingers on her back pressed harder into her.

Would he though? What if he got caught? What if something terrible happened to him and she couldn't see him ever again?

He was her first friend. She didn't want to lose him.

" I'll protect you until your memory returns!"  was his vow from when they first met.

Terra closed her eyes and sighed, finding herself trying to memorize the moment, alone together in that tiny room in the hideout, him giving her more promises.

He pulled away at last, causing Terra to realize that she had been clinging to his shirt with one hand and the other was holding onto one of his necklaces that had the jade beads and silver rings. She let go and looked away from him. They needed to pack up their things after all. The others must be waiting.

She got her cloak out of her bag and as she started fastening it around her shoulders, she saw movement.

"Hey, hold still a minute," Locke touched her left ear gently and before she knew it, he had removed one of her earrings and replaced it with one of his own. Her face felt hot all of a sudden. Looking at him again, she saw that he was putting her milky white beaded earring in one of the many piercings along his earlobe with a crooked smile.

"There, we can trade back when I get to Narshe," he turned to grab up his things from the bed and shrugged into his jacket with the mismatched patches at the elbows. She reached up and touched the dangly earring he gave her, wondering which one it was. Locke didn't wear any that matched so she couldn't figure it out by comparing one side to the other.

Once she had the straps of her bag in place on her shoulders, he opened the door and motioned for her to go out into the corridor first.

Returners were still hurrying around, though the crowd had lessened quite a bit. The injured Returners were leaving with Tom, both using long swords for canes. Edgar, Sabin, and Banon were waiting nearby with their packs heavy and chatting with a couple of Returners Terra didn't know.

Edgar waved at them, "Hurry, hurry dear Terra, we must make haste! Locke you better get going!"

Terra nodded and turned to look up at Locke. He was looking at her with an expression she couldn't quite recognize, but something itched at the back of her mind. She must have known what it meant long ago. Something about how he watched her, brown eyes darkened in the lamplight of the corridor, made her heart twinge. It wasn't just a mere sadness in his expression.

She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek before the impulse ran away, letting her eyes meet his through her lashes.

"Be safe, please," she whispered, blinking away the sudden tears. She scurried over to the twins and Banon before Locke could react. She didn't want to watch him leave. She couldn't bear for her possibly last memory of him to be of watching him walk away. The thought of it made her stomach twist around her supper. She couldn't shake the feeling of déjà vu creeping into the periphery of her mind.

Terra ignored how Edgar's eyebrows were raised high and how Sabin gave a soft chuckle before Banon called a "Good luck!" to Locke and ushered their group to a doorway at the back of the common room.

The group followed Banon through a short hallway and soon the sound of rushing water met them when they rounded a corner. He opened a large wooden door that housed a makeshift dock where two rafts remained tied to the posts. He led them to the largest raft and handed Sabin the oar.

"Here you go, Mister Muscle Man. You'll have to keep us on track!" Banon grinned up at the prince before stepping onto the raft carefully. He pulled the lantern that had been sitting at the end of the dock over to himself and sat it on the logs at the front of the raft.

Edgar grabbed Terra's hand and helped her keep from stumbling, and Sabin waited for them to get settled before untying the ropes and pushing them away from the dock with the oar.

"Alright, here we go!" Sabin announced and steered them to the mouth of the cave to be carried away by the fast currents.

Terra sat down in the middle of the raft and stretched her legs out in front of her. Night had finally fallen around them, and she wondered if it were better that their escape was hidden by the darkness or if their journey would be more dangerous because of the lack of light. Banon had struck a match to light the lantern for them, but the light it emitted only reached so far.

At least they could see the moon, but clouds were gathering together in the west. Perhaps Banon's words to her earlier weren't just alluding to the Empire attacking them. Hopefully, they could find a place to wait out the rain if a storm began.

"Better hold onto your backpacks, people," came Banon's rumbly voice from the front of the raft. He was standing with his back to them, and from Terra's spot, she could see that he was looking from a large map in his hands to the river ahead. "We've got to go left at the fork coming up, Sabin!"

"Right-o!" Sabin replied, and with powerful strokes, their raft sped off in that direction once a smattering of huge gray stones and trees came into view where the river split off into a wide junction. Somehow Sabin was able to keep their raft from rocking too badly with the turn. Foam sloshed over the sides but did not reach Terra at the center.

Edgar sat down next to Terra with a smile, "Who knew that we would get to sail in the moonlight together, my dear?" He put his auto crossbow in his lap and leaned back onto his elbows so he could gaze at the night sky. She glanced from him to the sky above and was surprised to see how well they could see the stars to the east.

"I don't see the Raging Behemoth though," Terra squinted, searching for the grouping of stars that resembled the outline of the beast from an old fairy tale.

Edgar scanned the stars as well, but shook his head, "It must be covered by those clouds, sadly."

"Remembering more, girl?" Banon asked without looking back at them. He was watching their surroundings with a careful eye, making note of different bends in the river.

"Yes, memories have been coming back when I see different things, but it's mainly small flashes," Terra made her voice loud enough to be heard over the sound of the rushing waters.

"Perhaps you'll remember something interesting once we get you face to face with that frozen esper," Banon glanced over his shoulder at them with a grin. "We've got another split in the road, Sabin! Take us to the right this time!"

Sabin steered them as instructed, but the raft banged into the cliff that rose from the river despite his efforts to keep them steady like the last turn. A wave broke over the side and caused the group to topple over sideways from the impact. Edgar managed to wrap an arm around Terra to keep her from falling off the raft, and Sabin was able to keep his footing thanks to bracing himself with the oar. Banon was thrown to his side with a loud, angry grunt.

"Dammit Sabin! Learn how to row this blasted thing better!" Banon shouted, trying to pull himself upright despite the left-over turbulence. "You're lucky I didn't lose the damn map!" He waved the soaked parchment around to try to flick water from it.

"We're lucky nobody fell into the river!" Edgar coughed, moving his head to the side to sputter water out of his mouth.

Sabin shook his head and shouted back, "Hey, it wasn't my fault! Something pulled at the oar! I couldn't shove us away from the cliff in time!" He was trying to catch hold of the riverbed with the tip of the oar so he could slow down and regain control. But something underneath the raft bumped them. They all felt it and there were no rocks visible to blame it on.

Out of the darkness slithered a violet-colored blobby figure that uncurled and revealed suction cups. It slid across the logs and wrapped around Terra's ankle before she could register what was happening.

Terra shrieked and clung to Edgar as tight as she could, trying to kick her leg free of the purple appendage.

"Oh, gods above!" Edgar did his best to pull her with him in the opposite direction, but it was too strong! They were slipping away! He dug his heels into the logs but to no avail!

Banon scrambled towards them and grabbed Edgar's crossbow where it fell to the side. "Try to stay still you two!" He yelled over them, lined up the bow, and pulled the trigger. Four steel arrows flew into the tentacle dangerously close to Terra's foot and they heard a bubbly screech from the side of the raft.

More tentacles emerged from the churning waters, pulling at the raft, and then the head of an enormous octopus broke the surface. It didn't look like a normal octopus, however. Its big glowing yellow eyes blinked at them slowly and it  smiled  at them. Octopuses didn't have their mouths on the sides of their heads, but below, at the center of their tentacles! Instead of a beak, it had sharp teeth that were too big for its mouth the size of swords.

It used another tentacle to yank the arrows out of its injured arm, "Oh c'mon, let me play with this pretty little thing!" its voice was high-pitched and gurgled with the water. The tentacle around Terra's ankle climbed up her calf, "She looks like such a  delicious morsel!  Can you blame me?"

Terra kicked and screamed, making it difficult for Edgar to keep hold of her, "GET THIS THING AWAY FROM ME!"

The octopus giggled, though it came out more as a jagged squealing sound, "Mmm, lemme get my bib!"

Banon fired more arrows at the beast, aiming for the eyes, but only one struck true. The other arrows stabbed into the flesh around its head, causing blood to gush from the wounds and mixed with the frothing water. The octopus screeched and pulled arrows out with its tentacles and thrashed around, causing the raft to rock back and forth. Sabin tried his best to hold the raft in place with the oar, pushing it into the muddy river bottom as far as it would go. He wanted to paddle them away from the creature, but its huge body and tentacles were doing too good of a job keeping them captive.

It wouldn't release its hold on Terra despite the continuing onslaught of arrows and gripped her leg harder, causing its suction cups to sink deeper into her skin, ripping her stockings to shreds underneath the cups. She flung her arm in the air and shrieked, "FIRE!" and a stream of flames ricocheted from her palm into the face of the slimy purple creature.

"EEEEEE! SEAFOOD SOUP!" the octopus wailed, its voice echoing off the cliffs around them, and with a squelch, it withdrew its tentacles and plunged back down into the water. Banon shot more arrows in its direction when tentacles flailed above the waves as it swam away, blood spreading through the water in its wake.

Panting, Terra slumped back against Edgar and pulled her leg up to inspect the damage. Angry red circles from the suction cups were left along her leg in a spiral where the tentacle had been wrapped around it, and the majority of her blush pink stockings were ripped apart from the struggle.

Banon approached and sat the crossbow down next to the king, "Looks like we'll need to get you some new stockings once we reach Narshe or you'll freeze to death."

"I have more in my pack," Terra sighed, letting her head lull to the side so she could see Edgar. He was panting too, his blond hair was wild, and long strands were sticking to his face. "Thanks for not letting go."

Edgar closed his eyes and smiled, "As if I could allow a horrendous beast to steal you away, my dear!"

Sabin's voice came from behind them, "That's a cute moment and all, but that purple bastard is coming back!" And sure enough, a flurry of tentacles was splashing back towards them quickly.

"Ed, take this!" Sabin hauled Edgar to his feet and shoved the pole of the oar into his hands, "I'm going to hit that squidball with a blitz!"

"Wait, Sabin, no!" Edgar yelled, "You can't be serious!"

Sabin bounded to the front of the raft and got into his fighting pose, fists up, knees bent, and right as the purple ball of teeth and tentacles resurfaced, Sabin leaped off and brought his foot down hard on the octopus's head. Terra felt energy whirl from Sabin, building up for a blitz, but it was cut off abruptly when the octopus grabbed him with one of its thick tentacles and pitched him down the river. His body smacked against the side of a cliff and fell into the water with a big splash.

Terra jumped to her feet and sent another fire spell at the giant octopus, bigger than the last. The creature screeched and shot away from them, leaving the scent of scorched fish behind.

Their raft continued down the river, going down an alternate path from where Sabin was carried away despite Edgar's efforts at trying to steer them after him. The current was too strong though, and the last they saw of the prince was his head bobbing up from the water with an arm waving frantically.

"SABIN, NO! GET BACK HERE!" Edgar shouted, still trying to move their raft to him, desperation coloring his words.

Banon cupped his hands around his mouth and bellowed,  "MEET US AT NARSHE AS SOON AS YOU CAN!"

They couldn't hear whether Sabin yelled back over the rushing waters or Edgar's continued cries for his brother. Within moments, the darkness hid away the fork in the river that separated them. Banon shook his head with a sigh and unfolded the map next to the tipped-over lantern. Terra flicked her fingers and the flame blinked back to life. The leader gave her a nod before looking over the map and their surroundings again, trying to find their place.

She turned to Edgar. He was holding onto the oar but wasn't using it to keep them on course. He had stopped yelling for his brother a moment before, and his shoulders were slumped.

Her heart seized when she realized that his face wasn't wet because of the river water.

Notes:

I always thought that we don't get to see enough of the Returner's Hideout and Terra spending time there trying to decide what to do, so I went a bit wild lol And yes, Ultros is staying. He's octopus royalty after all and deserves some time in the limelight.
I hope y'all enjoyed!
-Moogle
*Update 12/8/23: What the heck is with past me and weirdly placed commas and overly wordy phrases? Anyways, I'm drafting Sabin's scenario currently, but I needed to finish going through these older chapters or else I was going to go nuts. Now I can fully focus on Doma, the Phantom Train, and getting the best boy ever, Gau! I had to break Locke's scenario up into 2 chapters because it ended up being a lot, oops. Sabin's scenario is going to be 3 chapters (at least...I hope I can keep it at 3...) I try to keep my wordcount around 7-12k words for chapters, depending on what scenes are written and whether a natural ending place appears between scenes. It all just depends! Edgar and Terra's scenario is probably going to be the shortest chapter of the beginning of the upload schedule in the new year, and honestly, it's just because that section is pretty short when you're playing the game.

Chapter 11: Snowfall

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Terra paused in the doorway behind Banon while he stamped his feet against the rough welcome mat to dislodge mud and ice from the bottom of his shoes. The library smelled like coffee and old books untouched for years.

She found it odd that Narshe’s library sat on the outskirts of the coal mining city. Surely the city guard cared about who visited the library as well as those who approached the main gates leading into the city proper. She kept her head down, allowing the hood of her dark gray cloak to cover as much of her face as it could, and went a few steps to the right to give Edgar room to enter the building. She had one of her purple scarves tying her minty curls away from her face. As long as she kept her hood up, nobody would see her hair poking out against her neck. She had also changed into the pink dress they bought in South Figaro and some white stockings.

With the snowstorm thrashing the mountains outside, being permitted into the library felt like a stroke of kindness from the gods above. No interrogations from angry guardsmen with guns so far, and a deliciously warm fire burned in the hearth in the fireplace to their right with two faded armchairs angled to face it. Terra breathed in the scent of charred wood deeply and closed her eyes. Despite the fear of being found out, comfort rushed into her. Riding on a raft for hours was so tiring.

Banon was the only one in their group to remove his hood. Edgar kept his in place for the same reasons as Terra. The people of Narshe would recognize him too easily. Even though his father’s face was still stamped on the higher-valued coins used in the region, Edgar’s had been used for years for the smaller amounts.

Edgar had acquired a long brown cloak from the Returner’s Hideout before they left and thankfully, most of their clothes had dried during their raft ride down the river. After the incident with the giant octopus monster, Terra and Banon unpacked their things and laid everything out on the logs to dry in the sun once it started rising that morning.

The older man strode over to the information desk without a glance back at Terra or Edgar and asked, “How much for a pot of tea and some sandwiches?” He rested his arms on the desk, not seeming to care about letting the ice from his sleeves fall onto the shined wood.

“Ah, so hungry that you all couldn’t wait long enough to make it to the inn?” the young man behind the desk replied with a slight smile on his lips. He was dressed in a navy-blue thick knitted sweater with some sort of fur lining the neck.

Banon chuckled, “Nah, we heard the food here is better than that slop they serve up. Figured having a meal would be nice while we read and rested from our travels.”

Bringing his thin hand through his wheat-colored hair, the young man looked around the lobby before he pulled a small book from the top of a stack on the desk and flipped a few pages around before stopping. “It’ll be fifty-two gil for six sandwiches and a large pot of tea, and if you want some of the cake the mistress baked this morning, it’ll be another twenty gil.” He looked back up at Banon, dark eyes moving from the older man’s face to Edgar and Terra near the door.

“That sounds good to me. I’ll go ahead and pay you the tip too while I’m up here,” Banon replied, fishing out enough coins from his pants pocket.

“Alright, mark what you all want on your sandwiches here and I’ll bring out your food,” The young man pushed a slip of paper and a pen towards Banon across the desk after plucking up the coins. He gestured to the doorway to his left, “There should be a few free tables in the current events room.”

Edgar and Terra went up to Banon’s side after seeing him motion them to come over and choose what toppings they wanted on their sandwiches.

“Would you like some cake, my dear?” Edgar whispered down to Terra. She nodded at him, being careful to not let the young man see more of her face than he already had. She felt his eyes on her and fought the urge to look back at him. Edgar and Banon told her it was too dangerous to let any of the citizens recognize her.

After Banon sat the pen down, she noticed a short sentence scrawled at the bottom of their order sheet.

“For your discretion…”

Banon slipped another coin onto the order sheet and slid it back to the young man. The coin was for five thousand gil and the late king of Figaro smiled up at them.

“Thank you, sir, I’ll bring out your food shortly,” he nodded, giving Banon a slanted grin, and went to the door behind him, pocketing the money.

They followed Banon into the current events room and made their way to a table furthest away from the other people in the large room. It wasn’t very crowded, but they couldn’t take any chances. Tall bookcases lined the walls and were used to divide sections based on the subject matter.

Once seated, Terra was instantly curious about the magazines already stacked haphazardly on their table and took one that had a beautiful woman on the cover with the title “Curiosities at the Opera House.” Flipping through the pages, Terra saw that it mainly contained photos and portraits of men and women dressed up in dazzling costumes. The accompanying articles speculated about affairs and lovers and disputes over roles in the operas that were famous in Jidoor to the south. She let her fingers trail across a photo at the bottom of one page of a couple dancing on stage. Had she ever seen an opera before?

“Oh my, is there anything about Draco and Maria in there?” Edgar leaned over to get a closer look at the magazine. “Those two have been causing such a fuss as of late!”

Terra shook her head and slid the magazine closer to Edgar, “What do you mean?” She watched as he turned the pages, his arm now brushing against hers.

“They’ve been lovers for years, but they haven’t been appearing in public together recently.” The king lowered his face closer to hers and whispered, “And Draco has been seen with another woman! The scoundrel!”

Banon rolled his eyes at Edgar, “I thought you grew out of the opera obsession.”

“I could never stop enjoying beautiful music!” Edgar huffed, turning his nose up at Banon. “Plus, it reminds me of my mother.”

The young man from the front desk came around the corner with a steaming teapot and a tray of sandwiches and cake for the group, “Here ya go! Hope you enjoy.” He directed his smile at Terra when he sat the tray down on the table. A small slip of paper fell from his sleeve after he let go of the tray.

She nodded at him and Banon said his thanks before grabbing a large turkey sandwich on a toasted wheat roll. Edgar poured a mug of black tea for each of them and sat Terra’s slice of chocolate cake in front of her.

“Look, there’s nothing wrong with being a music lover. It’s the gossipy bullshit I’m talking about!” Banon said through a mouthful of sandwich. “You’re supposed to be a king, not some swoony teenager.”

Edgar spooned some sugar into his tea and grudgingly admitted, “Maybe I’ve been socializing with my maids too much.”

“Ya think?” Banon grinned at the crestfallen king. “Now, we need to discuss how to get to Arvis’ house without getting caught by the city guard. I have a few ideas, but one involves climbing through one of those windows over there.” Banon gestured to the curtain-covered windows at the back of the room. Not much could be seen through the gaps between the curtains besides blurring snowflakes.

“It lets out into an alleyway, but we would have to do a lot of hiding behind the boilers and crates while we made our way to his house. It’d be too easy to get caught by the workers.”

“Yes, we need to move quickly once we start off,” Edgar picked up a sandwich and carefully took a bite. The ham seemed to be trying to slip off the bread already. He looked over to Terra who was about finished with her cake. She was ravenous after their eventful night and couldn’t help but gobble her food down.

He tapped the top of her hand with his forefinger, “Do you happen to remember how Locke smuggled you out?”

Terra thought for a moment while she chewed. The cake practically melted on her tongue and made it a little difficult to concentrate on much else. “I remember him fiddling with something on the cave wall and a door opened…”

“That sounds better than squatting in the snow!” Banon held the last of his sandwich up as if to toast. “Through the mines it is!” Edgar and Terra held up their mugs of tea in agreement and toasted as well.

The group hurriedly finished their meal and left the library. Terra took the lead and walked along the mountainside scanning for the place she and Locke emerged. She was surprised at how long ago that felt. She hoped that the snow wouldn’t make finding that particular stone formation too difficult.

“The rocks were smoother where the door was, I think,” she said loud enough to be heard over the heavy winds.

It was difficult to guess what time it was with the gray storm clouds above. With every step, more and more images flowered in her mind. She hadn’t been wearing anything warm when she was last in Narshe. The buttons and levers were icy beneath her pinkened fingers. But the jeweled crown on her brow was emitting a strange sort of warmth similar to how her fire spells left a dissipating heat in her hands. Why in the world did they make her go on that mission without warm clothes?

She tugged her cloak closer around herself at the thought.

“Banon, what was that slip of paper that boy dropped on the table when he brought our food?” Edgar asked.

With a glance back, she saw that the men were walking side by side not too far behind her.

“I’ll read it once we get out of the storm. Don’t want it to get wet,” Banon shoved his hands into his pockets and looked at Terra, “Anything looking familiar yet?”

Terra bit her lip and turned back to the side of the mountains, slowing her steps. “I remember the door being at the center of a sort of crack where smooth rocks met.” She made a “v” with her hands, “Like this?”

Edgar pointed to a formation not too far ahead, “Like that?”

The snow wasn’t sticking to the rocks very well because of the winds constantly blowing the flakes around. Terra nodded and hurried to the side of the mountain, eager to get out of the snowstorm.

“There must be a hidden latch somewhere around here,” Edgar placed his hands on the stones and ran them along the surface high where only he could reach.

“I doubt it’s that high up,” Banon inspected the stones before running his fingers around them as well.

“You never know, Banon. It would be silly to leave such things within easy reach for the guardsmen,” Edgar stretched his left arm up further and an audible click sounded. “Ah ha!”

Pebbles fell to the ground as the heavy stone door opened slowly, revealing the tunnel leading into the mines.

Banon entered first, “Let’s see if we have any torches in here.”

Terra conjured a flame in her hand and held it up to help lend more light to the cave before Edgar closed the door behind him. There was only one torch on the wall and once Banon touched it to Terra’s spell, darkness fell away. Edgar sat his pack down and untied the handle of the lantern. Terra pointed a finger at the lantern and the wick burned to life. She let her spell dissipate in her hand with a puff of steam.

Banon shuffled around in his pocket and withdrew the note, “The guards have been patrolling the mines ever since the attack. Follow the rustiest tracks and you’ll find the right path to Arvis’ place.”

“Is that boy a Returner?” Edgar asked while he adjusted his pack on his shoulders.

Banon shook his head, “Not as far as I’m aware. I think he’s Arvis’ nephew.” He held his torch lower to show the ground more clearly. “C’mon you two, let’s get going before the guards catch us.”

After going up a series of stairs carved out of the ground, the party reached a grouping of tunnels leading in different directions. Two had mine cart tracks bolted into the ground that were identical in their stages of decomposition.

“They must not be using this section of the mines anymore,” Terra said more to herself than her companions.

“That’s right. They’ve gotten all the coal out of these veins and moved their operations further north.” Banon led them down one of the corridors without consulting which of the tracked paths they should follow.

She walked close to Edgar’s side through the caves and kept her eyes on the granite floor, hoping to give off the impression of trying to watch her step. Her mind wouldn’t stop filling with memories of her first time running through the caves. She didn’t have much of a chance to have a good look around back then. She was unconscious for most of it.

She was actively being pursued by the Narshe guard at that time and was utterly lost. Maybe they’ll come across the hole in the cave floor where she fell.

Her fingers went to her ear. The next thing she remembered was meeting her first friend. She made a mental note to check which earring he’d given her once they got to Arvis’ house. Was it the rough-cut emerald one? The ruby beads? Or the silver one carved in the shape of a rose? Locke must have gathered so many jewels over the years during his treasure hunting! Where did he store everything?

“Aw shit,” Banon’s voice grumbled ahead, coming to a stop before what must be the remains of a recent cave-in. Large boulders were blocking off the tunnel and there was only a small space between the tops of the stones and the ceiling that only rats could crawl through.

Edgar went to Banon’s side, “I suppose this cave-in hasn’t been shared with the public if Arvis’ nephew didn’t tell us about it.”

Banon scowled at the rocks as if they offended him grievously, “Looks like we’ve got to try that other tunnel with the rusty tracks.”

And back they went, Banon grouching about wasted time and Edgar musing aloud about whether the cave-in could have been caused by the Empire in some way.

“Wouldn’t we have seen Imperial soldiers at the main gates if they were the cause?” Terra asked, having to walk faster to keep pace with her companions. She could see the section of the cave where the path split apart up ahead already.

“That’s right,” said Banon, glancing back at her before leading them down the next tunnel, “It looks like Narshe just has bad luck as of late.”

“And we are bringing even more bad luck with us now! That’s what the Elder will think once we show up on his doorstep,” Edgar sighed, the hand holding his lantern slumped causing the light to flicker and sway, their shadows growing into exaggerated and warped shapes on the rock wall.

The light changing against the wall highlighted items placed against the walls neatly. Packages of food, bottles of medicine, bandages, different sizes of pickaxes and shovels…

“Hey Banon, look at those,” Terra came to a stop, looking at the supplies with furrowed brows. She glanced at Banon when he wheeled around and then back at the supplies. Everything looked new.

“I thought they weren’t working in this part of the mines anymore,” Terra stepped closer to one of the clean shovels, her heart speeding.

Banon rubbed at his ruddy cheeks with his free hand, “Looks like we might have company after all.”

“Oh dear, we will need to travel in the dark to avoid getting caught,” Edgar looked down the tunnel beyond at the darkness which seemed menacing and like it would swallow them all up.

Banon had been stroking his wild beard, examining the supplies, then looked to Terra, “Since you can summon fire and let it out like flipping a light switch, how about you take the lead, girl? Do you think you can conjure a small flame to keep our light from reaching too far and alerting the guards of our presence?”

Terra brought her hands up, cupping them in front of her chest as if holding water from a stream, readying to drink, and a little flame flickered to life in her palms. She took a deep breath, concentrated, and upon her exhale, the light from her fire dimmed into a soft glow.

“Good,” Banon smiled and blew out his torch with a big puff of air.

Edgar blew his lantern out as well and went up to Terra’s side, “We’ll be right behind you, dear. Just move slow and quiet.”

She made herself smile at them, finding it difficult to focus on much else besides controlling her spell. In the past, she could cast bright and powerful fires, easy as breathing, letting her emotions stoke them hotter, letting her fear guide them and protect her. But keeping a flame as soft and low as embers burning the last bit of wood in a campfire made her exercise a tighter type of control she wasn’t sure she ever had to use before.

Taking careful, pointedly quiet steps, trying her best to keep her boots from creating echoes that bounced off the cave walls, Terra led them down the mineshaft. She held her hands out further from her chest to lend a bit more light. Along the tracks were more mining tools and old carts full of rocks and dirt from where the people of Narshe must have been trying to clean up the cave-in.

What could they do if they encountered a hole in the ground like the one created when she fell? The other mineshafts they came across didn’t have mine cart tracks. If only Locke was with them…he seemed to know his way around the mines well when she woke up.

Sounds from up ahead made Terra freeze. Voices. She felt the air behind her move and heard a short shuffle of feet. She looked back at Edgar and Banon with wide eyes, and before she could ask what to do next in a whisper, a light accompanied the voices further down the mineshaft.

Banon moved to the mine carts, waving his hand to implore them to follow. Terra and Edgar ducked down and once they were settled, crouching on the ground behind the mine carts, she let her flame extinguish without a puff of smoke.

“This is such bullshit. Why can’t we put this off? The Empire is going to come knocking any day now!” one voice, male, lamented. The light from their lanterns grew brighter the closer they came.

“Yeah, we need to be moving that frozen esper further up the mountain. Gotta hide it quick,” another voice said, this one female.

“I can’t believe South Figaro got taken over. What happened to King Edgar’s military? Were they all stationed at the castle or something?” the first voice asked.

The group adjusted their positions as the shadows moved, quietly shifting with the darkness behind the carts.

Terra hoped the pair would continue walking along. Please don’t move the mine carts. Please don’t take any of the supplies next to them and spot them! She clutched at her knees where they were folded against her, trying to make herself as small as possible next to Edgar. His hand settled on her back, holding her still and close while he huddled down with her.

“They must have been busy elsewhere. Maybe those Imperials were waiting for them to leave before barging in.” The voices were on the other side of the mine carts now and their footsteps came to a stop. Their lantern light made the shadows of the carts lengthen and grow against the cave wall.

“Where are we supposed to dump this?” the woman asked from the other side of the mine cart. She was so close. The cart shifted when she placed her hands on the top of one side as if she were about to move it along the tracks with her.

“Uh…” the man paused, “I’m actually not sure!”

“What do you mean you’re not sure?” The cart wobbled again, her voice was annoyed.

“Well, it’s not like I work in the mines on a regular basis or anything.”

“You should have checked before we even came all the way down here!” the woman yelled, stomping away, her lantern light bobbing viciously with her. “You’re such an idiot sometimes! Now we have to go back to town!”

His footfalls trailed after her, “Maybe I was just excited to spend some time alone with you again! Ever think of that!?”

Another “Idiot!” echoed down the mineshaft in their wake.

Darkness settled over them again as they waited, listening and watching for any signs of the pair's return before Terra conjured a flame in her palms again and made the embers burn low.

“Let’s get going,” Banon whispered and eased himself up from behind the mine cart with a grunt, knees popping and cracking.

“I hope they’re the only ones here,” Terra replied, scooting away from Edgar’s side and standing, having to balance carefully to keep her fire controlled.

Banon motioned for Terra to continue as before, walking down the mineshaft following the rusty tracks around bends in the tunnel, and peeking around the corners on the lookout for any more guards.

They eventually came across the sentry station with nobody manning it and Banon paused to look at the maps of the caves settled on one of the stools. He flipped through them and shook his head, “If only there were duplicates we could borrow.”

Edgar examined the map in Banon’s left hand while Banon was studying another in his other hand, “It looks like we just keep following this mineshaft and we’ll reach the end without needing to take any turns.”

Banon sat the papers back on the stool and started walking, “Those two guards will probably take a while to come back, but we need to keep going before night comes. I don’t want to fall off that bridge leading over town.”

Feeling relieved that they were nearing the end of the caves, Terra relaxed her control over her spell, letting the flame grow in size and burn brightly from her hands. She let out a slow exhale, her whole body acting as if it had emerged from a too-snug cocoon, and was finally able to stretch and breathe.

She opened her eyes when Edgar’s hand patted her shoulder and said, “You must be so tired now. We will be able to get some sleep soon.”

She nodded and started after Banon who was nearing the end of the light her flame was emitting. Edgar easily caught up with her and their trek through the caves didn’t seem as daunting as before.

They didn’t hear any more footsteps from guards, no firelights save their own, and the ground surrounding the hole where Terra fell however long ago that was didn’t crumble and widen as they passed it by. She wondered if the two bickering guards were part of the group who chased her that day.

That earring on her lobe seemed to heat. His kind smile that came into view when she opened her eyes after her fall. Again, Terra hoped it wouldn’t be too long before her first-ever friend joined them in Narshe.

“Hmm? What’s this?” Banon gruffed ahead. He leaned forward through a low doorway. She could hear distant chirping sounds.

Edgar went up behind him and peered into the room, “Ahh, so this is where the little creatures nest!” He looked back to Terra and beckoned her closer. She let her fire spell dissipate.

“My dear, I believe you’ll enjoy this,” Edgar shifted to the side for her, “Don’t worry, I hear they’re quite tame.”

“Don’t just go rushing in there. They’re shy things,” Banon added with what was probably a smile. His beard made it difficult to tell.

Oddly enough, there were torches in the distance lit along the cave wall and the source of the sounds was working on large nests made of straw and weeds and nibbling on what appeared to be different types of roots. The creatures all had soft white fur covering their whole round bodies and stubby paws. Their eyes seemed to be squinting, and they had large, bulbous red noses and long whiskers.

Terra gasped and wracked her brain for whether she’d ever seen these creatures before.

Moogles.

“O-oh my goodness!” she breathed and couldn’t help the smile spreading across her face. She ventured a few steps closer to the pack of moogles, pausing whenever some would notice her and watch back as if assessing whether she was a threat or not before going back to their activities.

Before she reached a trio of the creatures, something bumped into her leg. She looked down and saw that a moogle who stood taller than the others had come up to her. It held out its furry paw next to her hand and squeaked, “Kupo!”

The top of the round, fluffy creature’s head came to just over the top of Terra’s knees, but the red puffball sprouted from the center of its head on a sort of antenna that bobbed around much higher. She reached down and held her hand out closer to its paw, and it gave her a large fluffy scarlet feather.

“Is this a present?” she asked, crouching down to face the moogle. She held the feather with both hands and smiled.

It nodded and hopped, “Kupo!”

She saw that it had small mauve wings on its back too! “Thank you!” Terra shook its paw and stood back up.

“Kupo, ku!” the moogle cried and hurried away to a darker part of the cavern. It stopped and motioned for Terra to follow before continuing into the shadows.

With a glance back at Edgar and Banon, Terra followed the moogle. It squeaked and hopped up and down next to a large wooden chest without a lock hidden behind an outcropping in the wall.

“You want me to have this too?”

The moogle pulled the top of the chest up with its paws and pointed excitedly at the contents. Terra’s eyes went wide.

From what she could see, it was a thin sword with jewels inlaid along the hilt and scabbard. She picked the sword up by the handle and moved to the light to examine it better. She unsheathed the sword and saw that it had symbols carved into the steel like what was on the gauntlet Banon gave her back at the hideout.

“This is beautiful,” she breathed. How in the world did moogles acquire a sword? During foraging?

The moogle was watching her with its wings fluttering and its puffball twitching around. Terra sheathed the sword, crouched down, and hugged it with her free arm, “Thank you so much, moogle!”

It chirped and nuzzled against her. Its fur was so fluffy!

She pulled away after a moment, “I’ve got to be on my way, but I promise I’ll be back to visit!”

The moogle nodded and hopped away. She strapped the sword around her waist and went back to Edgar and Banon.

“Fascinating! They understand human speech!” Edgar said in astonishment when Terra returned.

“They must spend a lot of time around the miners,” Banon nodded and turned back down the passageway. “Well, looks like we’ll need to try the other path with rusty tracks!”

Terra gave a last look at the pack of moogles and waved, and a few of the creatures waved back at her.

Along this part of the caves, there were torches lit, most likely by the guards whom they hid from before. Only the sounds of their footsteps bounced off the walls of the caves as they followed the winding path up more carved stairs and crossed a small wooden bridge that hung over jagged splits in the granite floor. When the rusty tracks came to an end, they saw the end of the cave at last.

The wind howled and threw sharp bits of snow and ice into the exit of the cave as they approached. Banon poked his head out and after deeming the coast clear, urged Edgar and Terra to follow.

Terra winced into the unrelenting wind. The sky had gotten so dark that the storm clouds were nearly an inky black. They must have been in the caves for a long time if the night was already falling.

Gas lanterns glowed along the streets below the rope bridges suspended over different sections of the town, connecting buildings from one carved cliff to another. She could see a few shrouded figures walking around, stopping at the enormous steam engines that worked around the clock to keep Narshe warm. Edgar mentioned before that the engineers in Narshe had to do maintenance every day due to the stressful conditions. Ice and wind would do a catastrophic amount of damage quickly if left unchecked.

They were able to make it across the old bridge without notice and soon Banon was rapping on Arvis’ back door, causing ice chips to scatter down from the gutter above.

“Who’s there?” came a familiar voice from behind the door.

“It’s Banon and a couple of friends,” Banon answered, and then the handle jiggled and Arvis swept the door open for them.

“Come in, hurry, hurry!”

Banon didn’t bother stamping his feet on the doormat before leading the way into the cozy house. Terra breathed a sigh of relief when the warmth enveloped her.

Arvis ushered them inside and when he saw Terra, he smiled and gave her a quick hug. He took their cloaks to go hang them near the fireplace to dry.

“I have some tea steeping in the kitchen. You all have good timing!” Arvis said as he bustled his way into the kitchen, “I’ll toast some bread and cheese for you as well. I’m afraid I had the last of my stew for dinner right before you showed up!”

The snow stuck in her escaping curls melted by the time she, Edgar, and Banon were seated in Arvis’ sitting room. The clock on the mantle across the room chimed a little tune when the hour struck. She removed the scarf covering her hair to let it dry easier.

Arvis’ house was much like Terra remembered it. Tidy and full of loved furniture, a warm fireplace, and the rich aroma of fresh bread. Terra chose the armchair closest to the fire, letting her shoulders finally slouch and her arms rest on the plush chair arms. Holding her hands close together and concentrating for so long on her spell made her muscles ache.

“I haven’t received word from anybody about what’s been happening. I read that the castle was attacked, and South Figaro was occupied in the newspaper, but nothing else.” Arvis returned from the kitchen and placed a tea tray with steaming mugs on the small table he’d pushed close to the sofa. He handed Terra a chestnut-colored mug and whispered that he put a spoonful of honey in it for her. She smiled, savoring the feel of heat coming from something other than herself.

“Well, the rundown is the Empire took over South Figaro, found the hideout, and everybody had to scatter. I sent Locke to South Figaro to try to slow the bastards down and gather whatever information he could find that we could use,” Banon picked up the mug nearest him, drank deeply, and let out a satisfied sigh. “Everybody should be on their way here.”

“Let’s hope nobody gets caught,” Arvis frowned and turned to the fireplace behind him.

There were small photographs in different styles of frames lining the shelf above the hearth along with a few unburned candles in glass holders on either side of the clock. Terra squinted at the photos and recognized the young man from the library who kept watching her.

“Arvis, has the Elder finally made a decision about which side to stand on after learning about what happened to Figaro? Surely this has made him see how Gestahl cannot be trusted to abide by alliances,” Edgar looked intently at Arvis, seeming to be attempting to will the answer he wanted out of the man.

Arvis shook his head, “The Elder still thinks staying neutral will be best…”

“Even after they attacked Narshe once already?” Banon’s eyes were blazing with frustration. “The only thing stopping a bloodbath would be if they sent General Leo instead of Kefka or that Celes girl if the Empire did decide to storm Narshe.”

Banon sat his mug back on the table and rummaged around in his travel pack for a moment. He withdrew his pipe and tobacco and sank back into the sofa, “At least we’re the ones who have Terra now. One less weapon in Gestahl’s arsenal.”

Terra couldn’t keep from flinching at his words. A weapon. She kept her eyes fixed on the tea in her hands, the surface wobbling, warping her reflection frowning back at her.

“He’s not considering handing over the frozen esper, is he?” Edgar’s voice was incredulous.

“I don’t understand it either,” Arvis kicked his boot against the grate, “If we give the Empire the esper, who’s to say they won’t take more? Gestahl could occupy Narshe just as easily as he took South Figaro! We’ve already seen how much damage can be done with three Magitek Knights attacking us! If they send a whole fleet here, we’re done for!”

“I suppose we had better get to work convincing the Elder to see reason. He can’t stay in denial forever.” Edgar sighed before sipping from his mug.

The mens’ conversation washed over Terra, meandering from the stalled coal train shipments to the lack of letters, how Narshe’s guards were scrambling to reorganize after losing so many men during the raid. Another indirect reminder that she was responsible for so many problems.

By the time she finished her tea the honey had settled at the bottom. She closed her eyes, willing herself to focus on the remaining warmth from the mug in her hands and listening to the crackling from the fireplace. Sleep stole her, wrapping her up in darkness, not even having the courtesy to let her wish everybody a good night.

 


“There…” The small brush tugged at her upper eyelid, but she wasn’t able to flinch. The unconscious urge from her body wanted to, but something was stopping her.

He removed his hand holding the brush, seeming satisfied with the effect, and moved his head to the side so he could inspect her eyes at a better angle.

His makeup was already finished. The color scheme he chose was purples and silvers, and the whorls of plum and steel were painted in such a way to give the appearance that his cheekbones could cut diamonds, and his eyebrows were constantly arched high with haughty indifference. His gray eyes met hers and he smiled. It was almost the same as how he smiled before. There was an edge to his expression now that made her blood squirm.

She didn ’t want to go to the banquet. She didn’t want to go to the ball afterward and dance with him. She didn’t know what else she wanted besides the desperate need to get away from him.

“Absolutely lovely,” he bent down, he was very close, so close she could feel his warm breath on her cheek. He twisted a lock of her curly mint hair around a couple of his fingers, but not so tight that it snapped the strands apart. He touched his lips against hers in a whisper of a kiss.

“My beautiful doll,” he sighed. She couldn’t blink, close her eyes, or anything. She wanted to shrink away.

“You’re mine. Absolutely mine. Tell me that you’re mine, Terra love,” he slipped his other hand down to her shoulder and squeezed her bare skin.

“I’m yours,” came her voice that wasn’t hers. She wanted to take those words back. He kissed her again, and she wanted to scream.

Notes:

Hello hello hi there hello!!! I’m back to updating this fic! Hello! Some of you may have noticed I’ve been active recently with writing again! And I’ve been working on this fic again in earnest!
The main reason why I’ve finally been able to devote so much time to writing again is because I bought a house! I FINALLY have privacy and peace and space to focus on my hobbies and be creative again! Ever since I moved in it’s like the floodgates opened fanfic wise! I have so many fics I plan on working on while also working on this one. (I’m trying to be good and FINISH things before posting, I swear!)
I'm about half-way done with Part 1 of Sabin's scenario, which will be up at the end of the month. I keep jumping back and forth between different chapters on accident as ideas and scenes come to me.
Anyhoo, next week we’ve got part 1 of Locke’s scenario! His scenario ended up being over 17k words so I figured it would be best to break it up into 2 chapters.
Thank you for reading and I’ll see ya next Friday! :D

Chapter 12: Smokescreen

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

If South Figaro was anything at all like Nikeah or Zozo, then an Imperial soldier running down the street half-dressed shouting after a street urchin wouldn’t be at all odd. Nobody would bat an eyelash, nor would any heads turn in the direction of the frantic shouting about returning clothes dammit.

But South Figaro wasn’t like Nikeah or Zozo. South Figaro was in the middle of being occupied by the Imperial military, so when one soldier was running and shouting, all the other soldiers within the immediate vicinity hurried towards the shouting and soon started chasing the street urchin as well.

“Give my goddamn pants back, you thief!” the half-dressed soldier shrieked, his white button-up shirt flapping behind him as he ran. He only had one sleeve on his arm, some scraggly socks that needed mending, his standard-issue helmet, and his underclothes, which honestly, didn’t cover very much. But that didn’t deter the man as he tried to catch up with his target, even though running through the cobblestone streets hurt his feet.

His thief didn’t reply as he pitched himself over the brick wall at the back of a citizen’s backyard at a full run.

By the time the group of soldiers reached the said wall, the thief had vanished.

“Fucking hell,” the half-dressed soldier grumbled, seeing as he’d lost his new pair of pants straight from Vector.

“It’s your own fault for letting your guard down, man.” Another of the group clapped him on the back as they turned to walk to the inn they were using as barracks.

“He just ambushed me, I swear! Had a dagger to my throat and everything!” he cried in defense, glaring at his fellow soldiers who grinned or chuckled.

“Right, well, we can’t have you parading around what the Imperial military has to offer, now can we? The townspeople will talk.” A soldier in brown laughed, ignoring the dark look thrown his way.


“Those greenies just have to try to look tough, huh? I didn’t have my knife out at all,” Locke shook his head as he waited a few moments more in his hiding place before moving along. Sometimes the soldiers liked to linger.

After he went over the wall, he’d run across the yard and up and over another wall into a tiny alley between houses where the weeds were all dried up. Luckily it wasn’t one of the poor alleyways where people dumped their chamber pots just willy-nilly.

“Dammit. I gotta get to Narshe fast. Too many of the Imperials here saw my face...” he muttered, crouching down with the pants in his lap.

He held the garment up to the low light, “Hope these suckers fit, at least.”

Locke had been gathering supplies during his stay in South Figaro, and he finally got the last thing he needed before he did some major snooping around. So far, he had only been able to overhear snippets of conversation, like about how some of the soldiers viewed Kefka, or how they wished they could’ve stayed down south. And by nightfall, he was busy cutting wires in the Magitek Armor and replacing their ammo with trick bullets. It wasn’t his fault if maps, letters, and rings went missing in the process, of course not.

Most of the people of South Figaro were awfully quiet about the occupation, whether it be from seeing defeat clear on the horizon or from hoping that it would end soon due to the efforts of the Returners, so the soldiers didn’t have much to do other than stroll around town with their guns for show, drinking at the pub, and generally lording over the citizens when they were allowed out to do their shopping.

Only merchants and certain ladies in red were allowed to go about their business without much hassle, though the ladies would run into a bit of trouble every now and then when a lower-ranking soldier was wandering around the streets drunk off his ass.

The faint complaining and joking from the soldiers faded away finally, signaling that Locke could emerge from his hiding place. He stuffed the pants into the front of his own and under his shirt and tried evening them out so he wouldn’t look too odd and climbed quietly up the uneven brick wall.

He was in a little neighborhood on the east side of town where the middle class lived. At the end of the main street towered an Imperial officer in a suit of Magitek armor blocking the entrance to the shopping district to all except for other Imperials. The Magitek Knight didn’t look like he had a sense of humor under that helmet, so that route was out.

All around South Figaro were walls that surrounded the land side of town to help protect the people and provide a means of getting from one district to another. Houses were clustered together along the tall walls, some only accessible by sets of stairs leading up from the roads.

A quick glance around let Locke know that quite a few of the walkways and staircases were blocked by Imperials. At least he could get to the general store without trouble. Every other route that led down to the streets was blocked off by checkpoints where the soldiers loitered and sometimes napped until their shift was up. It was odd that every way leading down to the street was blocked though. Locke figured that the soldiers were told to stop slacking by a superior officer and figured that guard duty was an easy way to look busy. He sighed and carefully lifted himself over the wall as slowly as he could to avoid notice.

He hurried down the landing to the general store, trying to stick close to the walls so he wouldn't draw attention from the soldiers on patrol above. He reached the door to the shop without incident and slipped inside.

The owner was wiping down his stomach-level counters with an old cloth while his blonde granddaughter dusted the curtains and clocks.

"Hey there Locke," the owner said, smiling, kind of, through that thick gray beard. "Have fun out there? We heard all the yelling..."

His granddaughter giggled from her place at the window. She turned to face him, "Yeah, why did you steal pants of all things?"

Locke went over to one of the straight-backed chairs and sat down roughly. "How could you accuse me of all people of being a pants thief? I'm hurt!"  he wiped at an imaginary tear with his finger.

The girl pointed at Locke with her feather duster, "Then why do you look super happy to see me and like you've gained twenty pounds only in your thighs?" She went up to him, giving him a little wink and a flip of her long hair. "Somebody's hiding something."

Locke rolled his eyes at her, withdrew a wad of bills from his pocket, and tossed them at her. She snatched the money out of the air with nimble fingers.

"There's an extra fifty in there for your discretion," he grinned, to which the shop owner and teen nodded.

Locke moved over to the counter, making sure that neither the shop owner nor girl could see anything, and unbuttoned his denims so he could pull the soldier's pants out of their hiding place.

“Want me to fetch that sweaty helmet and jacket?” asked the older man.

“Please and thank you. I think I can get by with the boots I’m wearing already,” Locke folded the pants and sat them on the counter, “I couldn’t get my hands on that idiot’s boots—he kept trying to smack me in the face.”

“He didn’t see your face though, did he? Like the others?” the girl wandered back over to Locke, not seeming too concerned, merely entertained.

“Nah, I sneaked up on him in an alley while he was taking a piss. He only saw the back of my head after that.”

The shopkeep barked out a laugh, “Dirty trick! Caught the poor man with his pants down!” He’d moved on to tidying the bottles and packages of medicines on the shelves behind the counter. The newspaper rack was completely empty thanks to the Imperials blocking all the radios and outside communications the citizens had access to before.

The bell hanging on the door rang and in came a merchant dressed in the typical fancy robes with satchels lining his belt, and a nasty grimace on his face. He didn’t say hello to the shopkeeper or excuse himself when he nearly knocked over the girl. He let the large canvas sack fall from his shoulder onto the countertop with a thump.

“There’s your order.”

“Well hello to you too,” the shopkeeper replied with his eyebrows furrowed. He started unbuttoning the bag to examine the contents. “Did the Imperials give you any trouble?”

His granddaughter sat her feather duster down to go help organize the bolts of fabric and the large spindles of thread.

The merchant crossed his arms and scowled, “You could have at least warned me that the city’s occupied now!”

“They’ve been preventing everybody from sending letters,” Locke said, eyes on the packages of chocolate that the owner sat on the counter next to bottles of potions and eye drops. He hadn’t had chocolate in a while. He glanced back at the merchant who was glowering at him, his eyes squinted.

“You look familiar…” the merchant took a step closer and tilted his head to the side. “Wait, you’re that damn thief, Locke, aren’t you?”

The shopkeeper chuckled at that and resumed sorting through the new items. His granddaughter looked from the merchant to Locke and raised her hand to her mouth, “Uh oh.” She hid her smile.

The merchant continued, “You’ve been making the rounds every time you pass through Nikeah, haven’t you? My friend lost fifty thousand gil thanks to you!”

“I’m not a thief,” Locke gritted through his teeth, glaring back at the merchant.

“Yes, you are! Everybody’s been talking about it! I outta get the Imperials to string you up!” He turned and waved his arm to the window, gesturing to the Imperials nearby.

The merchant was shouting now, “Or maybe they can just zap you with one of those big ass machines!”

When the merchant turned back around, he didn’t see anything past a gloved fist. The back of his head smacked hard against the wall, and he fell in a heap on the floor. His hat with the big white plume tumbled off his head, and bottles and bags full of coins clattered and crashed from the large pockets in his billowy robes.

“I’m a treasure hunter! I’m not a damn thief!” Locke accented his statement with a kick to the merchant’s chest, causing the man to let out a high-pitched yelp of pain.

With his arms covering his face, the merchant cried, “Fine, fine! You’re not a thief!” There wasn’t a lot of blood coming from the gash on the back of his head, but it still looked like it smarted.

An idea popped into Locke’s head. He crouched down next to the merchant. Upon seeing him so close, the merchant cringed away, guarding his busted-up nose even more. Locke pulled one of his hands away from his face so he could see the merchant’s eyes, “Gimme your clothes.”

The girl by the counter giggled, “What? Really?”

The merchant looked horrified, “B-but these are new silks! I just got them!”

Locke started pulling the merchant’s fingers in the wrong direction, causing the man to cry out, “I don’t care, just give ‘em to me! Now!”

“Don’t you already have a set of robes stuffed away?” The shop owner asked, amused, not at all worried about the mess on his floor.

“Those are too tight!” Locke looked back at the shopkeeper, “His look like they’d fit better.” He let go of the merchant’s hand and started yanking at the man’s robes, trying to be careful of ripping them.

The merchant started flailing his arms, swatting in Locke’s general direction and crying out, “No, no, no! You can’t have them! Why aren’t you two helping me?!”

“’Cause he paid us off.” The girl giggled again, now sitting on the counter to watch the show better.

“Oh shush,” the shop owner shook his head at his granddaughter with a sigh but didn’t contradict her. They both watched as Locke manhandled the poor merchant while he blubbered and put up with being undressed and smacked in the face when he tried to fight back again.

By the time Locke had the robes folded in a bundle and stood back up, the merchant was lying on his side only wearing his underwear and slippers, still crying and asking himself over and over why he couldn’t keep his mouth shut for once.

“Okay, I’m gonna get dressed in the back and slip out that way,” Locke fished out some more gil from his jacket pocket and put it in the shop owner’s outstretched hand. He turned back to the merchant on the floor, “Now, you’re not going to say a word about seeing me or what happened to your stupid robes, or I’ll rip your lungs out, got it?”

The merchant nodded vigorously at that, “Yes yes! I promise! I promise!”

The teen on the counter snickered, “You better listen, or he’ll probably take your clothes again too!”

As Locke was making his way behind the counter to the back of the shop, he muttered, “Goddamn right I will.”


Walking around South Figaro dressed up as an Imperial soldier was a bizarre experience, but an interesting one at the same time. Locke wasn’t chased around, yelled at, or had things thrown at him like knives while wearing the green, still sweaty uniform. He was able to just waltz on through the checkpoints, saying that he was on break or needed the toilet when asked by higher-ranking officers what he was doing. They would wave him off without much hassle.

One asked where his standard issue rifle was, but Locke was able to slip away with a simple, “Oh, I forgot it by my bed! I’m going to get it right now!”

Another soldier decided to head to the largest inn they were using as barracks with Locke because he really wanted some whiskey.

“Good thing you came along, pal. I’m thirstier than a fish in the desert!”

Locke was glad that he was able to shade his face pretty well with the oversized helmet. As long as he kept his head angled down, he would be difficult to recognize from a distance. He was also glad that he wasn’t the only soldier wearing a travel pack strapped to his back or else that could have caused him some trouble. He couldn’t keep the merchant’s robes and spare supplies stashed at the general store forever.

“So’ve you sampled some of the girls in town yet?” The soldier had been jabbering away about food during their walk down the street, but this question made Locke’s eyebrows go up.

“Nah, haven’t seen anybody I like yet,” he answered, trying to keep the derision out of his voice. “What about you? Found a special one?”

That made the goofiest grin bloom on the soldier’s pimply face. “Oh, gods yes! She’s been having dinner with me almost every night, and she’s such a beauty too.” They reached the double doors of the inn, and he held the door out for Locke while he continued to gush.

Apparently, she’s only been spending time with him, he never sees her with another soldier around town, she laughs at all his jokes, wears the flowers that he gives her, and when he gave her a sapphire necklace he got from when they raided a house, she spent the whole night with him in a secret room in the Addison’s basement.

“I haven’t gotten to go to Addison’s place yet,” Locke cut in when the soldier started talking about how smooth the girl’s legs were. “Do we get to do anything fun there?” He’d seen Imperials going in and out of the Addison’s mansion at all hours of the day and night the entire time he’d been in South Figaro. The curtains were always drawn during the day. Those flowers Mrs. Addison’s been growing must be suffering.

They were making their way to the pub at the other end of the inn and none of the soldiers they passed paid them any attention. Many of the doors to the rooms in the corridor were open and unfortunately, Locke saw soldiers in varying stages of undress and consciousness. He was itching to do some exploring but his companion had such a loose tongue he’d be stupid to skip out on sticking by him for the time being. Mud was crusted on the carpet in the corridor and the stink of sweat and gun grease permeated the whole place. Cigar smoke was added to the mix when they entered the pub.

“Let me get us a couple of drinks and I’ll tell you all about it!” the soldier winked at him and ushered him to a nearby booth.

He didn’t have to worry about being overheard asking questions that a normal soldier should already know the answers to because all of the other patrons were drinking, dancing, singing along to the phonograph blasting the newest records, and speaking to each other so loudly Locke couldn’t tell if they were arguing or having a good time. He took the seat facing the bar and sat his bag down next to him out of reach of the other soldiers. He didn’t take his helmet off like some of the other soldiers and rested his hands on the table.

It was becoming more and more difficult to keep a straight face the longer he spent around the Imperials. He knew that soldiers liked gossiping but didn’t expect them to be practically yelling about what an asshole Kefka was and who they voted would be next to become a Magitek Knight.

“I’m telling ya, Cid’s got those injections down perfect now! Look at how Captain Rucker turned out!” one soldier said with his mouth full of peanuts.

“I dunno man, I wouldn’t let Cid stick me with one of those needles.” Another shook his head and took a drag from his cigarette. “They say that esper juice is what made Kefka go batshit crazy.”

“Well, I heard that Kefka was batshit before he even got those injections!” the soldier Locke came in with interjected while he walked by the debating Imperials. He handed Locke a tall glass of beer before sitting down across from him.

Locke took a sip from his beer, “I haven’t worked under Kefka before. Is he at least good at being in charge?”

A chorus of confirmations came from the nearby tables.

“Oh yeah, if you want somebody who threatens to chop your head off if you don’t obey him.”

“Or blast you with a bolt of lightning!”

The soldier across from Locke gulped at his beer and shook his head, “I tell you what, things’ll end up worse here if Kefka comes back.”

“Oh? He left?”

“Man, did you show up with the last ship or something?” one of the soldiers in brown nearby asked, eyebrows furrowed at Locke. “Whoever briefed you sure left out some details.”

“Kefka gave us orders and left to join Leo in Doma. That bitch was supposed to be in charge here but—“

The soldier in front of him got cut off.

“Shut up, you idiot! Not around the civilians.”

They all looked up and saw the bartender watching them while wiping down the counter, only to jerk his head down, eyes determined to stay on his hands.

Locke fought to keep his face passive and keep from asking more questions. Who was supposed to be in charge? He only knew of one female general serving under Emperor Gestahl…it must be that young woman from the newspapers. The one who led the attack on Maranda.

And if Kefka and Leo were in Doma already, then they must be readying for another attack! He needed to get to Narshe! Everybody needed to know! Maybe they could send carrier pigeons to warn the people of Doma if he wasn’t too late. He tipped back his head and drained his glass in one go.

“So, do you think I could visit the Addison’s mansion?” Locke asked, smiling.

The soldier across from him grinned back, “Eager for a promotion or something?”

Locke put on a sheepish smile, “Do you blame me? The money’s good!”

“Can’t argue there, bet you’ve got a honey back home to provide for,” the soldier waggled his eyebrows at him. “I know how it is, but a handsome guy like you shouldn’t have to worry so much about getting the ladies!”

“Nothing wrong with trying to guarantee things,” Locke shrugged.

“There’s not much you can do other than follow orders, maybe catch some civilians trying to escape in the underground tunnels. We won’t have a battle for awhile, so you won’t get any action until they’re done with Doma.”

Locke let out an exaggerated sigh and pushed his glass away. “Aw, well, thanks for the advice, I need the washroom.”

He gathered up his travel pack and stood up from the booth before his companion could protest and hurried out the door. The streets were nearly empty when he left the pub, save for a Magitek Knight hanging out in his armor with his nose in a book, blocking the bridge that led to the docks.

Underground tunnels…he hadn’t heard of them before in all his time visiting South Figaro. Locke turned onto the main street leading north to the wealthier district of the city. He didn’t see anything wrong with trying the front door.

Like the last time he saw the mansion, there were Imperials everywhere. Two Magitek Knights were stationed out front along with higher ranking soldiers in brown and black standing guard at the main entrance and in the front yard, all wearing frowns and shiny rifles, likely loaded and ready for firing at people they didn’t like the look of.

Locke adjusted the brim of his sweaty green helmet down to cover his eyes, straightened his shoulders, and walked carefully up the stone path leading to the front stoop of the Addison’s mansion.

“Here goes nothing.”

“Good afternoon, sirs! Can you let me inside?” Locke tried to make his voice friendly and naive as he approached, holding his hand out to wave, showing his lack of weapons. The soldiers in black on the stoop blocked his way, one even aimed his rifle at Locke’s head!

“No entry for a grunt like you!” one practically growled in a voice heavy from cigar smoke.

Locke was pushed backward and stumbled off the stoop, arms pinwheeling to regain his balance.

He couldn’t think of a reason to get them to let him in the mansion other than lying about having a message. But with the soldier aiming the barrel of that rifle at Locke’s head and the others glaring at him, his excuses and pleas died in his throat.

“Get back to your post!” another soldier added, sweeping his hand as if to shoo Locke away.

“Okay, okay,” Locke spun on his heel and scurried away, not paying attention to where his feet took him. He had a nasty feeling that if he tried arguing, he wouldn’t be standing anymore.

By the time he stopped, seeing more Magitek armor in the distance, of course blocking more streets, he was in the market district where a couple of dozen citizens were milling around with their shopping baskets, heads bowed, avoiding eye contact with the Imperials. There were only a few stalls open for the day selling vegetables, bread, and meat. However, one stall at the end of the street had its counter lined with tall glass bottles and there was only a middle-aged man and a boy talking to the merchant. The man looked familiar so Locke headed in their direction.

“Now Andre, you bought up my last bottle yesterday. How about you try this nice spiced plum wine? It’s imported from Kohlingen,” the merchant was holding up the green glass bottle with both hands with the label facing up for the man.

“I don’t like plums, never have, never will,” the older man grumbled with a shake of his head. “What about that spiked apple cider from Nikeah? They have some good breweries there, don’t they?”

That voice. Locke had heard it before! He was Mr. Addison’s butler!

The boy by the man’s side turned when Locke was a few paces away. He glared, eyes going from the green helmet to his uniform, “What do you want? We’re not doing anything!”

The merchant and older man turned as well to face Locke. The merchant’s eyes went wide, the hands clutching the wine bottle slipped and it tumbled onto the counter.

The older man glared at Locke like the boy, “You don’t look like a soldier.” His voice was matter-of-fact and the accusation stunned Locke speechless.

The merchant fussing over the wine bottle he thankfully captured before it could fall to the cobblestones and shatter sputtered, “What do you mean, Andre?! He has the uniform!”

“That doesn’t mean shit,” the old man’s words were slurring a bit. “The fact that he hasn’t yelled or threatened us yet means I’m right.”

“Yeah! So spill, what do you want, Mister Impostor?” the boy asked too loud for Locke’s liking. His eyes darted to the Magitek armor down at the end of the nearest street. Sweat beaded on his temples.

“Don’t call me that!” Locke hissed, “I need to get out of the city without getting caught. Any ideas?”

“Ah, got yourself into a pickle. I won’t ask, these are hard times, I understand,” Andre nodded his head, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He looked to the merchant, who was looking more nervous by the second, “Where’s that one asshole living again? The one who sells cider?”

The boy at his side sighed and rolled his eyes, “Don’t you think you’ve drunk enough, Grandpa?”

“You try getting fired from your position of thirty years and tell me how you like it!” Andre snapped at the boy. The boy just crossed his arms and glared back at his grandfather, looking like he wanted to say more, but thought better of it. They must have been having this argument for quite a while.

“I believe he’s moved to the apartment under the Good Times pub,” the merchant said, “He got kicked out of his girlfriend’s house.”

“Okay,” Andre stepped closer to Locke and jabbed his index finger at his chest, looking brazen to anybody observing, “You go get me a few bottles of cider and I’ll help you get out of town. Bring it to my house…”

Andre looked Locke up and down, “Maybe change your clothes when you come since it’ll look fishy for an Imperial to enter a house alone.”

“Sounds good! Where’s your place?” Locke asked, excitement rising in his chest. He knew exactly where the apartment was!

Andre pointed at a large house in the distance on the other side of the marketplace, “Right there. Both doors have poppy wreaths. You can’t miss us.”

The Addisons must have paid Andre extremely well over his years of service, judging by how big the house was and the new tiles on the roof.

Not wanting to waste any time, Locke said, “I’ll be back soon!” and hurried away to the Good Times pub. It was a smaller pub opposite the one attached to the inn he visited earlier and there weren’t any Imperials hanging around outside, so Locke was able to go in without any notice.

Unlike the other pub, the Good Times pub was cozy, with worn leather seating, shined tables with their own vases of flowers, and few patrons. The bartender looked up when Locke entered and gave a nod, seemingly unbothered by an Imperial, the only Imperial, visiting his establishment. A couple of ladies shared a small table, puffing on thin cigarettes and chattering about their plans for the coming evening. Other patrons were settled at different places, all seeming at home with their glasses and bottles and snacks, only glancing up when Locke passed by and didn’t say a word when he made it to the stairs at the far end of the large room that led down to an old apartment that changed renters with the same frequency a low ranking Imperial changed his underwear.

The door swung open too quickly after Locke knocked, causing him to stumble backward to avoid getting swatted in the face.

“What the hell do you want?” the man sneered. He was wearing elaborate robes, much like the merchant Locke disagreed with earlier that day, and his attitude was even worse.

“I was hoping to buy some cider. Got any good bottles in stock?” Locke kept his voice even, ignoring the rude welcome.

“Why should I sell to an Imperial pig like you? Your lot are ruining my business!” the merchant narrowed his eyes at Locke, seething poison.

“With an attitude like that, no wonder your sales are down,” Locke shrugged, “I’m trying to buy some nice cider and all you do is insult me?”

“I’d rather get pulled apart by rabid chocobos than take money from an Imperial!” the merchant took a swing at Locke, aiming his soft fist for his jaw, but missed when Locke ducked out of the way. He swung his foot and hooked it behind the merchant’s legs, and then the merchant was on his back with the wind knocked out of him.

Looking inside the apartment now that the rude man was out of the way, Locke saw crates of sparkling cider organized by which fruit they were made from and which region they hailed stacked in the corner. He kicked the merchant as he passed by, earning a cry, and grabbed a couple of bottles from the nearest crate. The merchant in the doorway was making groaning noises and clutching his stomach.

“You…bastard!” the merchant wheezed, coughing. Locke sat the bottles down and went over and grabbed the merchant, pulled him into the room, and shut the door behind them.

“I’ll leave you money on the table for the damn cider,” Locke said, taking off the green helmet, sweatier than ever, and dropping it on the rug.

Then he sat his pack down and started unbuttoning his jacket and pants.

The merchant looked at him, horrified, “What in the hell are you going to do now?!” He wrapped his arms around his knees and curled himself into a tight ball.

“Huh?” Locke dropped the jacket next to the helmet and started pulling down his bright green uniform pants, “I’m just changing clothes, not planning on jumping your bones, don’t worry.” He laughed and started digging through his pack for the robes he stole from the other merchant. Thank gosh he decided to take them instead of sticking to the set he “found” previously. Those would have been way too tight over his denims.

When the man on the floor saw that Locke had not in fact stripped buck naked, he asked, “What are you playing at anyways? Are you a spy or something?”

“Or something,” Locke replied, muffled from pulling the flowy silk tunic over his head. He slipped on the loose gray coat and then the thin linen trousers over his denims. He did some tucking and folding to hide his jacket collar away. The looser fabrics weren’t doing a good job of holding down his thick jacket and were trying to cling to his earrings. He ruffled a hand through his hair, damp with sweat, and pulled a couple of his bandanas out of his pack to tie his hair away from his face. The gray coat had a scarf attached, so he pulled it over his head, wrapped it, and clipped it in place to make a hood, hiding more of his head from view. Then he buckled the belt around his waist with its many satchels attached.

He turned to the merchant on the floor and held his hands out wide, “Ta-da! Pretty good, huh?”

The merchant just gave him a suspicious glower, still hugging his knees to his chest.

“Pah, you’re no fun,” Locke slapped some coins on a nearby table and put the bottles of cider in his travel pack and settled the pack in place on his shoulders.

“Wait, you’re just going to leave that uniform here?”

Hand on the doorknob, Locke looked back and said, “Maybe you can sell it to one of the soldiers when you see them running around naked and drunk!”

He didn’t hear if the merchant responded because he was running up the stairs and hurried out of the pub without a word to anybody.

Once back on the streets, he made sure to keep his steps even instead of sprinting to Andre’s house like he wished he could. He kept his gaze trained on the cobblestones underfoot as he followed down whichever streets he was able to without getting accosted by Imperials and soon saw that the butler’s house was near the general store.

The red poppies stood out brightly against the cream-colored walls and Locke was able to scale the steps and knock on the door right below the poppy wreath without curious Imperial eyes watching him.

The grandson was the one who opened the door and let Locke into the house after Locke whispered that he had the cider.

“Grandpa is in his office,” the boy pointed down a short hallway off the main foyer and went along down a set of stairs next to a large grandfather clock.

In Andre’s office was a cluster of records stacked haphazardly next to the record player, a bookcase with most of the books pulled out and strewn about the small sofa next to it, and an old desk covered in magazines held in place by mostly empty bottles of cider. No glasses were in the vicinity, so Andre must be drinking his cider straight out of the bottle.

“Hey there,” Locke stepped into the room, being sure to avoid stepping on any of the records that had slid away from the stack and made his way to Andre slumped at his desk. The older man had his cheek resting on a magazine, blocking the majority of the model and her “exotic” outfit which consisted of chocobo feathers, ribbons, and handcuffs. Locke withdrew the bottles from his pack and sat them in front of Andre’s face.

“So, how do I get out of town?” Locke asked and watched the older man wrap his hand around the closest bottle and inspect the label.

“Hrm, good stuff you’ve brought me!” he uncorked the bottle, and like Locke suspected, took a long drink of the cider. “Haven’t had that brand in a while, nice, nice.”

“Great, so..?” Locke raised his eyebrows at the man, “Have you got a secret tunnel under your house or something I can pass through?”

Andre looked away from the cider bottle and blinked slowly, frowning, “Yes, I do, it connects to the Addison’s mansion. But…the one in his house leading out of town?”

“Yeah?”

“I can’t remember where it is! There’s a secret passage behind a bookcase in that scum’s…somewhere, maybe the study…there’s a painting of a cabin next to a door…that’ll take you out of town, I remember that much. This is good cider you brought me, much obliged,” Andre smiled up at Locke, “Go ask my grandson downstairs to show you where the tunnel is. I don’t think I have my sea legs.”

Biting his tongue, Locke nodded and left Andre to his liquor and magazines. He found the stairs the kid went down and found him sitting on the bottom step bouncing a ball on the floor in front of him.

“Hey kid, your Grandpa said to ask you to show me where the secret tunnel is,” Locke stopped abruptly to keep from plowing over the boy.

The kid gave a long sigh, “You gave Grandpa more cider, didn’t you?” he looked back at Locke and glared. He stood, dropping his toy to the side, and letting it roll away.

“I just did what he asked. I’ve got to get out of here,” Locke shrugged, watching the kid trudge over to the wall across from them and shoved an oil painting of what must have been a scene from an opera out of the way and smack a panel in the wood.

A door popped open on the other side of the painting with a creak and the boy held out a hand, gesturing to it, “There, it’s a straight shot to Mr. Addison’s kitchen. You’ll come out at the servant’s entrance.”

Locke hopped, skipping the last few steps, and hurried to the door, flashing the kid a wide grin, “Thanks! I’ll remember this!”

As the door shut, he heard the kid say, “And I’ll remember you giving my Grandpa more booze, you jerk.”

He shoved away the brief sliver of guilt that popped up in his head and took a few tentative steps into the darkness.

Locke expected to smell musty cobwebs and dust, maybe a twinge of scent from sewers nearby, but the passageway merely smelled stale, like the doors hadn’t been opened in a while, like a house quarantined because the children had chicken pox. He didn’t detect any dips in the ground, so he jogged through the darkness, keeping his hands out to keep track of the walls and to prevent running smack into one face first.

And soon, he came to the end of the tunnel where a steel ladder was bolted into the wall in front of him and led up to what felt like a trapdoor. Locke undid the latch and heaved it up. Sunlight spilled into the tunnel and the door fell with a thump on the ground. He froze, wishing he hadn’t let it fall so loudly, but no voices or footsteps approached, so Locke climbed and poked his head up.

He was hidden behind large pickling barrels and stacked-up crates. He closed the trapdoor once out of the tunnel, slowly to avoid making more noise, and stood up enough to peer over the tops of the barrels. Nobody was there in the little alleyway tucked behind the mansion. A door was next to the crates, and Locke found himself in the oddly quiet kitchens of the Addison’s mansion upon stepping inside.

A few puffy loaves of bread were on a counter along the nearest wall. Several large teapots rested on the stove and a mess of teacups and mugs were placed near the sink. There weren’t any maids, butlers, or other servants around, doing the usual scrubbing or preparing food. Only messes were left on the counters and flour spilled on the marble floor where a sack was shoved in the corner.

“Where is everybody?” Locke whispered, taking quiet steps into the kitchens, bewildered at how such a wealthy family didn’t have any servants to clean up after them. When he and Terra were dragged into the greenhouse for Mrs. Addison’s impromptu tea party, he saw several maids going about their duties. The pair who attended Mrs. Addison even spilled the beans about her odd visitors to the master of the house!

But there wasn’t a soul in sight or within earshot, so Locke chalked it up to good luck and crept out of the kitchens and chose a corridor at random where they split into two. Electric chandeliers were hanging at regular intervals from the ceiling, providing plenty of light to see down the quiet corridors. All the curtains at the windows were drawn, however, and all of the doors were closed.

He reached a part of the hall that looked familiar and soon voices drifted from a large open entrance. The strong scent of herbs reached his nose, and he knew he must be at Mrs. Addison’s greenhouse. Maybe she was inside having another tea party. He saw that the carpet and rugs were stained with dirt and rifles were resting against the wall in a neat, long line. Looks like her party guests were soldiers.

Locke spun on his heel and practically dove around the nearest corner when a pair of Imperials left the large room, both speaking in low tones that Locke could just barely make out.

“Yeah, she’s being held down in the basement somewhere.”

“Who’s keeping an eye on her?”

“Not sure, but I hope I get to visit her next…I’d love to get one last look at her before tomorrow…”

The soldiers were approaching fast, so Locke ran down the corridor with as quiet steps as he could manage and kept going until he reached another part of the mansion that seemed deserted.

The crash of what must have been a glass bottle shattering against the other side of the wall and screaming came from behind the nearest closed door. Frightened little yaps from a dog joined in the commotion.

“You disgusting coward! How could you do this to our family?!” a familiar posh female voice screeched, followed by thumps against the wall. Perhaps thrown books or knick-knacks.

Locke remained mostly hidden behind the enormous stuffed bear stood up on his hind legs to its full height, claws on its front paws shining in the intermittent lamp light from above them in the corridor. If Locke didn’t know it was a hunting trophy, he would think it was alive, poised to strike any who dared tread down the long corridor that ran the length of the entire mansion.

“Oh, come on! The Imperials aren’t causing us any harm! And you seemed to be enjoying the money they gave us!” a male voice replied, not quite yelling.

Another thump banged against the wall. “That was before I found out where that money came from!”

“You’re just mad that the Imperials decided to use your greenhouse for their headquarters!” The voice belonging to who must be Mr. Addison cried out. “I’ll buy you more damn flowers after this is all over!”

“Who said it’ll be over? You moron, South Figaro is going to become just like the cities on the Southern Continent! Everything is ruined because of you!” the voice of Mrs. Addison was quickly approaching, causing Locke to shimmy himself away from the stuffed bear over to a set of floor-length curtains and ducked behind them right as the door slammed open.

Stomping footsteps rushed past his hiding place along with some furious and surprisingly creative cursing from the lady of the house. The last time he encountered Mrs. Addison was when she practically kidnapped Terra during their visit to South Figaro and he had to run after them. At that time, the lady seemed flamboyant, frivolous, spoiled, and damn near ridiculous with the way she spoke and decided that Terra was the savior of her puppy.

And he had a creeping feeling that she saw Terra’s healing spell while they were in the greenhouse, judging by how quickly they were thrown out after. He wouldn’t be surprised if Mrs. Addison told her husband about the incident.

The lady being so upset about the occupation and chastising her husband made his opinion of her rise a smidgen. She most likely contributed to the Imperial invasion if she talked about seeing Terra’s magic, but at least she wasn’t happy with the idea of the Empire taking over the city.

 Locke waited, daring not to move an inch until he heard movement from Mr. Addison. Would he follow after his wife, pleading for forgiveness? Would he try to keep the argument going? Or would he slink off somewhere else with his tail between his legs like a kicked dog?

The door nearby shut with a click and Locke heard movement and grumbling come from inside. Looks like Mr. Addison was going to hide in the room to lick his wounds.

Locke peeked out from behind the curtains after waiting a few minutes more just in case Mrs. Addison decided to return for another round of arguing or in case some Imperials decided to investigate all the noise and found the corridor was clear.

The butler, Andre, said that there was a secret passageway behind a bookcase in Mr. Addison’s study. Locke needed to find the room fast before he came across any other people living in the mansion or Imperials wandering around. He’d made it past the entrance to the greenhouse already. He just needed to find a set of stairs and find the room with the painting of a log cabin hung by the door. He hoped that Andre remembered the right details. He seemed pretty drunk for so early in the afternoon.

Locke kept his footsteps light as he jogged down the long corridor, ears trained for any sounds besides his own, and after passing by numerous sculptures and more menacing hunting trophies, Locke spotted a set of stairs that went in a spiral up to the second floor. He paused, listening for a moment for voices or footsteps, before scaling the stairs and found himself in a dimly lit section of the mansion with only small kerosene globe lights lining the hall and an over-sized chandelier hanging from what must be the center of the hall, candles unlit.

All of the windows had their curtains drawn, but Locke denied the temptation to open one so he could see the paintings and portraits neatly hung along the walls better. He was doing well so far to avoid notice and needed to keep it up so he could get his ass out of South Figaro. Too many Imperials had seen his face. And if the gossip from the pub was true, he needed to high-tail it to Narshe before Kefka sent a regiment of troops to the coal mining town. He needed to warn everybody before it was too late about Doma. And he needed to hide Terra from Kefka.

To say that the Addisons liked going to the auctions in Jidoor was a vast understatement. He wasn’t sure which of the Addisons was the art lover, but they sure didn’t discriminate between styles and themes. There were paintings of landscapes, portraits of royalty, depictions of battles, mighty ships in choppy seas, old maps, still-lifes, a log cabin, and an old bucket of all things.

Wait. Locke backpedaled to the picture of the cabin, and crept close to the door, listening for movement inside, before pulling the door open with a relieved smile on his face.

Mr. Addison’s study was as over-decorated as the rest of the mansion from what Locke could make out from the darkness. There was a crack of light coming into the room where a set of curtains weren’t pulled together all the way, but none of the little globe lamps. He was going to have to be extra careful to not knock anything over while he searched around for the right bookcase. He prayed to whatever was left up in the skies that the butler told him the truth.

He closed the door behind him as softly as he could and blinked a few times to help his eyes adjust to the dark faster. The shadows cast behind the large desk and sofa looked big enough for somebody to hide in. He shook his head at the thought. No point in making himself extra paranoid.

He went to the left, seeing tall rectangular shapes that had to be bookcases. The light from the window didn’t reach that corner of the room at all, so he had to rely on feeling the smooth wood of the shelves, and the spines of leather-bound books, trying not to stumble when his leg bumped into the side of a low armchair, and keep vigilant for any oddities at the wall once he felt his way around the bookcase. It was one of those long and wide bookcases that are usually in libraries, so it took him longer than he liked to examine it in the dark without tipping anything over and making noise.

Once at the wall, he ran his hands up and down the wallpaper until his fingertips snagged on a small groove that dipped behind the bookcase. Bingo!

Locke shuffled closer, kept one hand on the grooves, and pulled at the bookcase as gently as he could until he was able to feel the beginnings of a panel a few inches past the grooves in the wall. When he pulled at the edge of the panel, it opened up with a jerk, and what must be the secret passageway lay within.

He let out a puff of air, tension lessening, and he slipped inside the panel, being careful to close up after himself. It was pitch dark in the passage, but all he could do was move along, being careful of any stairs leading down. He fumbled around in his pockets and found the familiar small box of matches he always kept on his person.

“You better not get me caught,” Locke whispered to the match as he struck it and the flame flickered into existence. He wasn’t sure how long it would take him to navigate the secret tunnels under South Figaro, or if he would run into any sneaking Imperials on the watch for escapees, but he knew he was on the last leg of his visit in South Figaro.

Soon, he could be sneaking out of the cellar of another house at the edge of the city near where the old forest began. He could ditch the merchant’s robes in that cellar and run away before anybody was the wiser. Hope leaped in his chest and he couldn’t keep the smile off his face. As long as things kept going his way, he could make it to Narshe within a few days and everything would be okay.

“Thank gosh for disgruntled butlers.”

Notes:

Hello again! Locke's scenario is in my top 5 favorite parts of FF6 so I wanted to make sure to make it a fun read! I always thought Locke stealing clothes should have been used more in the game itself because it was such a neat idea. It was a lot of fun figuring out how to implement all the shenanigans that happens during his scenario without it getting too odd.
Next week, we're officially meeting Celes!
Thank you so much for reading! :D

Chapter 13: Not Yet Broken

Summary:

Locke comes across somebody who, despite her resignation to her fate, could really use some help.

Notes:

Note: Throwing a content warning/trigger warning up here! We've got abuse, torture, and some implied sexual assault in this chapter guys! (I went with how things happened in the SNES version.) Stuff gets heavy in this one, but ya know, it's kind of a heavy situation Celes is in. (There's nothing graphic/explicit as far as the SA goes, don't worry. It's just implied.)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Merely taking his first step down in the old basement of the Addison’s mansion was enough to tell him that many of the horrendous parts of a city becoming occupied were being hidden away. Unlike the public executions, leaving bodies hanging from trees, and grunts assaulting people out in the open for just looking at them the wrong way like what the Empire usually did when it started taking over cities and towns on the Southern continent, they were treating South Figaro quite differently. Perhaps Gestahl feared what Edgar would do if pushed even more.

There were a few candles lit in their sconces along the wall of the corridor, but their light did not give away much. Who lit them? Locke kept one hand near the wall as he took silent steps to the end where the hall split into two directions. He let his fingers graze against the bricks, always on the watch for things hidden. Switches. Irregularities. Opportunities.

The lingering odors gave Locke hints as to what the Imperials had been up to. If the candlelight had reached the floor, he wouldn’t have been surprised to see dark stains on the once-polished wood.

He didn’t dare strike a match. Who knew who else was down there? An Imperial soldier could be lurking in the shadows on the watch for intruders. Locke’s merchant getup could only answer so much before he had to fight. He wished he had been able to keep the Imperial uniform but ditching it had been the better option at the time when he had to put up with the stupid cider ordeal. He rolled his eyes at the thought.

SLAM!

Locke dropped to the floor and froze there, staying flat and listening closely.

A male voice was yelling something incoherent nearby and more bangs followed. It sounded like it came from the left corridor. Locke moved carefully towards the source as quickly as he could, trying to catch anything at all he could use from the curses and laughter.

“You bitch, you’re going to regret saying that!” a different voice shouted.

Locke peered around the corner and saw light pooling out the bottom of a wooden door. He stood up and flattened himself against the wall next to the door, leaning down to peer into the keyhole.

He saw two Imperials kicking the hell out of a blonde woman laying prone on the floor. She wasn’t making a single sound. There were bottles littering the small table near the door and a cigarette was still lit in its tray. A rifle was resting up against the wall next to the chair.

“We’re not the cowards! You’re the coward you traitorous bitch!” The Imperial on the right accented this with another kick to her stomach, his fists clenched and chest heaving with every breath.

Traitor?

Locke didn’t have time to gawk at the scene. The other Imperial turned away from the woman and smirked at his comrade. Locke looked up, hoping for a rafter to cling to, and saw a break in the ceiling above where the wood must have splintered apart over the years and gave a big jump, arms flailing up and was able to grab at the opening. He scrambled into the hole and was untangling the damn merchant’s robes and scarves when one of the Imperials came out of the room.

He was laughing. “Oh, I can’t wait for tomorrow, General Celes. It’s going to be so satisfying to see you torn apart after all your bullshit.”

“Yeah! We’re going to have a party!” The other Imperial snickered.

“Okay, it’s your turn to keep watch down here. We don’t want any of those Addisons sneaking around.” The Imperial at the door folded his arms with a sneer. “Kefka thinks that fool is beginning to regret helping us.”

“Right! Don’t worry! I can go days without sleep!” The other soldier replied. Locke could practically see the dumb Imperial salute to go with the soldier’s declaration.

The one at the door scoffed, “Sheesh, it’s not for days, just until tomorrow morning.” He turned and started to close the door behind him before pausing and adding, “If you get bored, have a little fun with our beloved lady general. I bet she’d appreciate some extra attention.”

More laughter could be heard once the door was shut and soon footsteps receded up the staircase. Locke waited for several minutes, counting in his head, listening for anything else before emerging from his hiding place and slipping down to the floor without a sound. He made sure to keep out of the light when he returned to the keyhole and saw that the Imperial inside was slumped back in his chair snoring his head off.

So much for staying awake for days.

Locke rifled through the stolen merchant’s pack to see if the merchant sold anything besides booze or chocolate and found what seemed to be a type of sedative in a small vial. Only one though. Probably not for sale. Back at the keyhole, he watched the soldier to make sure he was truly asleep. The prisoner didn’t look like she could walk very well at the moment.

But there was something tugging at the back of Locke’s mind. Yeah, she’s the enemy, but if they’re going to execute her for treason tomorrow, then maybe…

He watched her back rise and fall and her arms shake. She was shackled to the wall by her wrists with chains that gave some slack, but not very much. If he wanted to get her out of there, he would need to work fast. And he had the perfect tool to pick the locks on her shackles too.

He opened the door as quietly as he could, cursing himself for doing something so reckless. He should turn back. Let her get executed. He saw the newspaper Edgar bought with the article about her killing all those people in Maranda. She had been part of other attacks from the Empire too. It’s not like she had a slave crown on her head like Terra did. But that damned sympathetic annoying part of him decided to act. He would have to come up with some good excuses later to tell Banon.

Right now, somebody needed his help.

He sidled up to the soldier, vial in hand, and slowly reached out to pull the cork off and let the medicine fall smoothly into the soldier’s mouth. The guy was so deeply asleep that he didn’t even flinch. Locke might not have needed to drug the asshole at all, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

Rescuing a general with a gun pointed at her back could get him killed on the spot if he got caught. As the vial finally emptied, the soldier mumbled, “Mmm, and some bread too…mmm.”

Locke had to bite his lip to stifle a snicker and put the vial back in his robes. Turning to the prisoner, he couldn’t avoid looking at the crime scene now. What he saw made his chest hurt, stomach turn, and outrage build behind his temples. Those Imperials had been going nuts while torturing her.

Blood was all over the floor, splattered on the brick wall behind her, and crusted on her whole body. She had moved her head to the side, and he saw her bruised up face and nose that must have been broken. Her earrings looked ripped out of her ears. Scratches and bruises ran down her jaw and throat.

It took all the self-control Locke had in him to kneel and start picking the locks on her shackles instead of spinning around to slice the sleeping Imperial’s throat open while he dreamed of supper. It was so tempting, but it would cause too much trouble, he was sure.

The woman shuddered when he removed one shackle and stared up at him. Her bright blue eyes were fearful at first, as if expecting the guards again, but swapped over to confusion as soon as she realized what he was doing.

“What...?” she croaked as Locke removed the other shackle. “What are you hoping to peddle down here?”

He withdrew a potion from his robes, “Medicine to help a woman in need.” Locke held the bottle up to her lips and she drank it down within seconds.

She sighed, “Interesting business model.” She was able to prop herself up with her hands now and sat up. She turned her head and saw the Imperial still in his chair snoring away.

“Don’t worry about him. He’ll be knocked out for quite a while.” Locke answered her question before she could ask. “So, you’re the famous General Celes, huh?” Locke glanced back at her, not letting his eyes trail down. He was going to need to find her some new clothes by the looks of what was left. The only thing she was wearing that didn’t look destroyed was a scuffed pair of black boots.

“Nothing but a worthless traitor now,” she said flatly, still watching the snoozing soldier.

Locke withdrew another potion and handed it to her. “I’m Locke, with the Returners.”

Celes drank the potion down fast like the other, “Hm, figured as much.” She sat the now empty bottle next to her and looked up at him with careful eyes. “What do you want from me? Information? Or do you want to get revenge for your comrades I may have killed?”

He averted his eyes while he stood up and removed his outer coat. He held it out to her, “I want to help you. Think you can stand?”

The coat must have made her realize the state of her outfit finally because she snatched it and covered herself up quickly.

“I think so…”

Locke held out his hand and was surprised that she took it instead of saying she didn’t need help. Once he saw that she was steady on her feet, he started for the door. Celes tugged his arm back with surprising strength and whispered, “This soldier probably has some keys on him.”

Locke did not waste any time going through the soldier’s pockets and took the guy’s wallet and pocket watch along with the ring of keys. He mumbled something about soup in between snores with no indication of waking up. Locke grinned at Celes before heading to the door and made sure the corridor was clear for their escape.

He led her down the corridor to the left and found another door nearby. It wasn’t locked and opened with a creak that hopefully wasn’t loud enough to carry down the hall.

The room was completely dark, unfortunately. No Imperials had been in there apparently to leave a candle lit for them. Locke felt around the wall next to the door frame and his fingers ran up against a switch. He flipped it and only one flickering light near the back of the room fizzled on, lending a soft wavering glow to the cluttered room.

“Looks like a storage room,” Celes whispered as she followed Locke inside, hands clutching the large coat around her shoulders.

He nodded and headed to the nearest bookshelf to examine the old candles. “Let’s see if we can find a lantern. I doubt the rest of the underground tunnels have electricity too.”

The room was dusty and smelled a bit like moldy bread and soot. There were crates with words painted on the sides, labeling the contents inside. The crates were stacked in random spots along with old armchairs, cracked tea tables, and other oddments of furniture and knick-knacks that came from families who evolved their decor over the years.

Celes moved over to an antique vanity and chest of drawers and started opening drawers, searching for clothes. The vanity was covered with ripped doilies and empty bottles of perfume. The bloomers and blouses looked a few sizes too big for her, but she set aside the pieces that were the least moth-eaten.

Locke glanced at her before prying the top off a nearby crate and decided to keep his focus on the contents of the box instead. After a while of hearing shuffling and drawers closing, he turned and saw that Celes was threading a wide leather belt through the loops on a pair of high-waisted black trousers over the top of a navy blouse she tucked into the waistband of the pants. Her face looked more relaxed now that she had proper clothes again. The fabrics looked worn and faded, but they were much better than the rags he found her in.

She picked up an ivory-handled hairbrush from the vanity table and started trying to fight the matted tangles in her long blonde hair.

When he approached, she glanced at him in the mirror and shook her head, “This will take too long. I’ll put my hair up and deal with the tangles later.”

“Sounds like a plan!” Locke smiled at her, and then an idea popped into his head, “Let’s find you a bag. These Addisons have enough stuff cluttering their house. I’m sure they won’t notice some missing clothes.”

Celes agreed, still holding the brush, and started scouring the surrounding mess for supplies she needed.

“And we’ll find a place for you to take a bath too after we get out of here. Nothing like hot water to soak tired muscles!” Locke was blabbering, now looking for a good-sized travel pack that didn’t look like it would fall apart. Why couldn’t people just toss their belongings when the items were in such bad shape? Or at least mend them before stowing them away.

In the process, they came across an old lantern tucked in a corner on top of a couple of stacked chairs. The wick still had plenty of length, so Locke deemed it a valuable find. Now to find some spare boxes of matches…

“Do you know of a door in here leading to the tunnels?” Celes asked quietly from next to one of the grandfather clocks where she was comparing coats. She seemed to favor the thicker one made of coal-colored wool over the silken coat from the merchant’s outfit Locke lent her.

“Addison’s butler said there was a way out of town if we followed the tunnels leading from this basement, so I’d say they’ve hidden it behind something.” He gestured to the mess around them, “I’ll start checking behind things along the walls over here if you’ll start over there.”

She nodded, and had much better luck than Locke because when she tugged at the grandfather clock, there was a door hidden behind it!

“That was fast,” Celes said, voice flat, looking from the splintering wooden door to Locke.

“Great!” he stepped up to a round table between them and set two large leather bags down for her to choose from, “Which of these do you like better?”

Celes picked up the one closest to her without hesitation and stuffed the hairbrush and the clothes she’d sat aside earlier inside.

“Oh!” Locke held up a hand, “We’ve got to disguise you before we head out. Putting your hair up was a good idea, but how about we find a couple of scarves to wrap around your head?” Not waiting for her to answer, he shuffled over to a pile of fabrics on a broken billiard table and started sorting through them. Something made of thick material in darker colors would be best.

He glanced over and saw Celes inspecting a coat. It looked like it would stop around mid-thigh and had a fur collar.

“I think that would look a little out of place. It’s pretty warm outside,” he looked down at the merchant’s robes he was still wearing, “These are lightweight, and the soldiers haven’t been paying attention to the merchants much from what I’ve seen, so I’m not going to change until we get out of town.”

Celes folded the coat and stuffed it inside her bag along with her other new belongings. When Locke found a few possible scarves to try, he saw Celes tucking socks and gloves into her bag. She came closer and held still while he tried wrapping a gray scarf around her face and letting the ends hang low over her shoulders.

“Does it have to be perfect?” she asked, her eyes flitting to the door, “I can wrap the rest if you give them here so we can get out of here.”

Locke paused, looking to the door and listening carefully for any approaching footsteps. “You’re right, it’s only been a few minutes, but one of them might come back…” he handed her the rest of the scarves and weaved his way back around to the grandfather clock next to where she stood.

She had finished draping a plum scarf around her neck to hide the bruises by the time Locke got the lantern lit and opened the door.

It was even darker in the secret passageway, but the light from their lantern reached quite far ahead of them. The walls were made of blocks of stone and the air was thin.

The only sounds were the flickering from their lantern, their breathing, and their own footsteps. Celes had a bit of a limp, but when he glanced over his shoulder at her, he saw that she was standing straight and her facial expression was a careful neutral despite all the bumps and cuts.

“What?”

“How’s your face feeling?” Locke asked quickly, leading her around a bend in the tunnel. Luckily there weren’t any branching paths so far, so hopefully they could reach the end fast.

She raised a hand and ran it lightly over her cheek and jaw, “Looks that bad, huh?”

“Looks like it hurts a lot,” he clarified. “I’ve got some medicine in one of these satchels we can use to clean those wounds once we’re out of here.” He patted the line of stolen leather satchels attached to his belt.

“I’ve dealt with worse injuries before,” her voice was soft, more of a whisper to herself, meant for her ears instead of his.

That sent a shiver down his spine. Somebody her age had had worse injuries before? What in blazes was the Empire doing to its generals? He knew of the little experiment Kefka did with Terra, torching her fellow soldiers to test the strength of the slave crown, but Celes didn’t have a slave crown as far as he knew. He brought a hand up and touched the earring he got from Terra.

No slave crown. That alone made her a different situation from Terra. He was rescuing the woman who butchered the royal family of Maranda. Chopped off the head of their prince and held it out like a prize, ordering all the citizens to join with the Empire or they would all die too.

Her committing treason against the Empire so soon after that attack on Maranda was what made Locke pause, and made him even consider helping her. To have received the death sentence for her crime made him wonder what she did to anger the Emperor. It must have been big to make the Emperor want her dead after she won such a big victory for the Empire.

They walked in quiet the rest of the way through the underground tunnels and soon came to a set of wooden stairs leading up to a trapdoor in the ceiling.

“Looks like we’re almost free,” Locke whispered, now conscious of the fact that he didn’t know where the exit let out. The butler said they would be able to escape town, but what if they ended up in the middle of one of the back streets guarded by the Magitek armored soldiers? He led the way up to the trapdoor and waited for her to take careful steps up the stairs after him. Her legs seemed to be shaking from either the pain or exhaustion or possibly both. Maybe they could swipe a chocobo if they were near a stable so she wouldn’t have to walk the many miles to the nearest village where he was planning to spend the night.

“Try to keep your head down when we’re out until we reach the forest, okay?”

“Of course,” she fixed him with a hard look as if offended that he felt the need to explain how she needed to act while they escaped.

He gave her a smile in apology, and before he started heaving the trapdoor up, she asked, “Really, why are you helping me? I was an Imperial general until a couple of days ago—your enemy.”

Hands still in place on the door, he glanced down at her, trying to keep his gaze from lingering on her wounds and bruises, “I think that somebody who pisses off Gestahl enough that he wants them dead is more of a friend than a foe to the Returners.”

The door eased up slowly, letting daylight stream into the tunnel.

“And I just felt like it. I like helping people,” he added, now carefully looking around at their surroundings while still holding onto the door.  It appeared that they were in a small fenced-in yard behind a building attached to the tall stone walkways that surrounded the city. There were tomatoes ripe in the little garden patch and a swinging bench, but nobody in sight.

“Hold on until I check over the fence,” Locke whispered, setting the trapdoor down on the cobblestones and practically crawling his way to the gate to peer around for any soldiers. Celes stayed crouched by the passageway and closed the door once Locke signaled it was safe for them to get going. He unlatched the gate and after pointing Celes to the north up the cobblestone sidewalk, he closed it back, double-checked that everything in the yard appeared unaltered, and swiftly caught up with Celes.

They walked side by side, Celes favoring her left leg, and continued towards the dense forest north of the city without catching the attention of any guards.

Once far off into the forest, Locke dropped his pack on a fallen tree and started freeing himself of the merchant’s robes. He flung the flowy silk tunic to the mossy ground and practically tore the pants off.

Celes wordlessly sat her bag on the tree and sank next to it with a sigh. She peeled the scarves off her head and tucked them into her bag. She glanced up at Locke when she saw a gray shroud drift into her line of sight where he threw it. The waning sunlight streaming down through the dense branches caught on something small that sparkled, catching Celes’ attention.

“Where did you get that earring?”

He looked at her while fixing the high collar of his jacket, “Which one? I’ve got quite a few.”

“I can see that,” Celes pointed, “That white beaded earring. Where did you get it?”

His fingers went immediately to the one in question, “Oh, it belongs to a friend of mine. We swapped earrings until we met again in Narshe.” A smile pulled at the corners of his mouth.

“That’s Terra’s earring, isn’t it?” Celes’ eyes went wide, “She’s in Narshe? She’s with the Returners?”

“Yeah, you know her?” Locke was stunned. Celes hadn’t shown much emotion so far, not even when he first found her and unshackled her.

“I know she went missing…” she trailed off, her eyes still on the earring.

“And Kefka came after her like a madman,” Locke stepped closer to Celes, now free of his merchant’s disguise. “If you want to see Terra, why don’t you come with me to Narshe?”

Celes chewed her bottom lip, or rather attempted until she noticed the split down the middle. Hesitating and briefly licking the blood away, she nodded, “Is she okay?”

“Yes, she’s got some memory problems though,” Locke’s voice softened, thinking of how confused Terra’s been, how fragile.

Celes looked down, her torn-up hands on her knees squeezing, knuckles growing white, “Makes sense I suppose.”

Seeing the cuts reminded Locke about the medicine he promised. Locke went to his bag and started rifling around for the little pots and potions.

He knelt in front of her with his supplies and removed his gloves. Dirt, dust, and whatever else he touched that stuck to his gloves wouldn’t be appropriate when trying to clean up wounds. Celes had a faraway look on her face, staring at the cluster of tiny white flowers growing at the base of the ancient tree at his side.

He opened one of the pots, revealing a cream with flecks of green and yellow herbs in the mixture, and swiped some out with his fingers. He looked up at her for permission before slathering some of the ointment on the backs of her hands where welts and bumps had swollen up. Better be straight with this. Locke needed to make sure.

“Did you know about that damn crown?” he watched her face for a hint of grief, regret… cold-heartedness?

Her shoulders jerked, his question bringing her back out of her thoughts, “No, not until very recently.” She didn’t offer up anything else. He noticed her eyebrows twitching as if they were trying to furrow but she was blocking it, trying to close off her facial expressions completely. He figured it would be best to let his further questions drop for the moment.

Celes’ arm trembled when he started smearing more of the ointment up her forearm, over cuts and bruises. The pain must be worse than it looked. “See how I’m leaving a thick layer instead of working it in like a regular cream?”

“Yes,” she watched him apply more to her other arm with a careful swipe.

“Apply some of this to your neck and wherever else you can reach. It has cleansing properties and will help soothe the wounds until we reach Sunley so you can take a bath. I’ll get some medicine you can add to the bathwater, and that’ll reach everywhere else you got injured.” Locke handed her the pot and sat the other on the tree trunk next to her before heaving himself up to stretch his shoulders out.

Celes mimicked what he did with the ointment, applying it to her neck and up to her jaw and cheekbones, “How do you know all of this about healing?” moving the subject away.

He flashed her a grin, “My grandmother was an herb doctor and owned an apothecary. When you’re stuck mashing up herbs and organizing medicine all day as a kid, you learn a lot.”

He grabbed a flask of water from his bag and drank deeply, watching her finish up.

She put the lid back on the pots and took one of the potions, “Sounds useful for somebody like you.”

“Heh, you have no idea.”


They rented a room at the inn in Sunley with two beds and a private bathroom, the only room of its kind in the inn, and Locke was enjoying the evening meal the mistress of the inn prepared while Celes was in the bath. He urged her to take her time, soak to let the medicine absorb better, and he would bring her a tray of supper.

“You think your lady friend will like pork chops?” the mistress asked as she swept by with a pot of coffee for the couple at the next table over.

“I think she’ll love them! I don’t know what you marinate them with, but they’re delicious!” Locke smiled up at her when she came to a stop in front of him, brushing off her apron.

“She looked pretty roughed up, poor thing. I’ll be sure to put a slice of my apple pie on her supper tray,” the mistress smiled kindly, the crow’s feet at the corners of her eyes crinkling deep. “Good on you for helping her get away from those thugs, Locke. You’ve always been such a good boy.”

“It’s something anybody would do,” he smiled back at her. The mistress of the inn always reminded him of his late grandmother, especially with her cooking.

She patted his shoulder and went back to the kitchen, probably to start preparing the supper tray for Celes, knowing her.

Locke sipped at his coffee and sighed. The Sunley Inn was the same as always. It had been added onto throughout the years to accommodate more people. The dining area was quiet, with low murmurs of conversation from a few other customers, some customers who were locals but came for the good cooking.

Gas lanterns were mounted on the walls of the log cabin-style building. The maroon curtains were swaying in the light night breeze and the soft lighting of the room added a peaceful ambiance.

The mistress and her husband were the only ones who got a good look at Celes’ face when they arrived, and Locke paid them extra to keep quiet in case the “thugs” came by asking about her.

Normally, Locke would have continued marching on through the night, maybe stopping to camp for a short time under the stars since he was eager to get to Narshe. But with the state Celes was in, he felt it would be cruel to force her to keep going. And he doubted he could carry her very far if she fainted on the road.

So far, Sunley was left alone by the Imperials. According to the villagers he spoke with at the general store while buying medicine and more supplies, they received word about South Figaro being occupied, but no soldiers came by for a visit to their little village.

One of the farmers figured it was because they didn’t have a port like South Figaro. Another worried that they would come knocking any day now because Gestahl was showing how much he wanted everything he could get his grimy claws on. Locke dropped the hint to send word to Narshe in case the Imperials did visit them.

Locke scarfed down the last of his potatoes and finished off his coffee when he saw the mistress appear at the door of the kitchens with a large supper tray. He stood and went to take it from her with a smile.

“Let me know what she thinks of my cooking, alright?” she smiled, wiggling her eyebrows in amusement before moving away to gather up the dishes he left on his table. He hid a few more gil under the gravy boat.

When he got back to their room, Celes was seated on her bed, rubbing her long hair down with a fluffy beige towel and dressed in a clean sky-blue tunic and loose black cotton trousers she got from Addison’s basement. She looked up when Locke entered, her head snapping to face him before relaxing once she realized it was just him.

He sat the tray down on the small round table next to the only window and asked, “How’re you feeling? The medicine help?”

She gave a nod and went back to drying her hair. He noticed the small vial of medicine he left on her bedside table that’s supposed to discourage “accidents” was empty.

He maneuvered the plates on the tray around so the pie would be the first course. Whenever Locke had rough days, he always craved something sweet to eat before anything else. He wasn’t sure how long she was chained up in that basement, but he had a feeling they probably didn’t feed her much while she was there, if they fed her at all. Thank goodness the mistress of the inn seemed to share his opinion that people needed big hearty meals.

“That looks nice,” Celes approached the table, her hair pulled back into a low ponytail, appearing mostly dry now. Locke moved out of the way so she could sit and took the chair at the other end of the table across from her. “I hope you like it! The food is great here.”

When she sat down and noticed the pie, she quirked an eyebrow at him before picking up the fork and taking a bite.

Her eyes fluttered closed and she let out a sigh, nearly sounding blissful, “I haven’t eaten in days…”

“Well if you’re still hungry after supper, I’ll go grab some more food from the kitchen if you want,” he offered.

 She shot him a hard look when she opened her eyes and saw the goofy grin on his face. “I’ll be fine until breakfast after this.”

“Okay, just know the offer’s on the table!” Locke shrugged at her, grabbed one of the glasses from the tray, and poured himself a glass of water from the pitcher.

She ate slowly for a person who was starved for a few days, carefully taking small forkfuls and keeping her eyes down on her plate. He was surprised she wasn’t gobbling everything down at light speed!

Locke let her eat in peace for a while, watching the road outside the inn where farmers were returning from the fields with their lunch pails and chattering together until they bid each other goodnight once reaching their front doors. Sunley was one of those villages where everybody knew everybody and for the most part, all got along. The people were close-knit, but enough travelers making their way to South Figaro stopped by that they didn’t mind strangers.

When he glanced back at Celes, he saw that she had finished her pie and was working on cutting her pork chop into small pieces and tore the heel of sourdough bread in half.

“So, about what you said earlier, only recently finding out about the slave crown?” he left the question more open-ended than he liked, giving her the option to elaborate instead of responding with a curt answer and closing off again.

Celes didn’t look up at him while she took a bite of the pork chop and chewed slowly before answering, “Neither Leo nor I knew what it was until it was too late. We thought it was just another gaudy piece of jewelry Kefka dressed her up in,” she kept her gaze on her plate. “We thought he was influencing her, yes, but we didn’t even fathom the extent of what that monster was doing.”

Wow, if Celes and Leo didn’t know what was going on, then maybe Emperor Gestahl didn’t either. Giddy with how he stumbled on a way to get Celes to talk so freely, Locke asked, “Is that why you committed treason?”

 “That was one of the reasons,” she nodded, then looked up at him, making eye contact, her bright blue eyes now swimming with emotion. “Did you know Kefka is planning on poisoning Doma?”

“Excuse me?” Locke gaped, fists clenching, “When? How? We’ve got to stop him! I heard they were heading to Doma, but poison?!”

“That’s the straw that broke my chocobo’s back, so to speak. Finding out about the slave crown, finding out about Doma, him trying to force me to lead the occupation of South Figaro. He’s using dirty tricks, horrible methods, no honorable soldier would resort to these disgusting methods…” Celes shook her head, wincing from moving her neck in that movement too quickly. Everything was spilling out as if she had been holding these words in for a long time.

“Why poison? What was he going to do to South Figaro that made you back down? Was he going to poison them too?”

“Have you heard of Cyan Garamonde?” when Locke shook his head, she continued, “He’s the retainer to the king of Doma. He’s been the head of their military for decades and their king’s right hand. Their military is one of the few the Emperor has been cautious about fighting even though he has Magitek. Their sword arts are amazing…” she trailed off.

Locke waved his hand, urging her to continue. Damn, just ask this former general the right questions and she’ll jabber away!

“Kefka wanted to use Magitek to destroy South Figaro instead of merely occupying it as the Emperor commanded. Make an example out of them. He’s furious at King Edgar for taking Terra away from him.”

“So, Kefka wants to speed up all these attacks to get them out of the way so he can find Terra,” Locke concluded.

When Celes nodded again, Locke asked, “And Gestahl is okay with all of this?”

“Apparently…” she said darkly, gripping her knife so tight Locke wondered if it bent in her hand.

“Well, this is all the more reason to get to Narshe fast. The rest of the Returners will want to hear about this.”

Celes gathered some mashed potatoes onto her fork and asked, “Do you think they’ll be able to do anything about Kefka? I wasn’t able to kill him on my own and I’m a Magitek Knight.”

“I bet we can if we all work together.” Locke grinned, “With you helping us, we’ll be able to prepare a plan on how to take down that psycho bastard!”


“Go ahead! Tell the Emperor! I’m sure he would applaud my efforts to wipe out that pathetic kingdom so quickly!”

Crimson jewels sparkled when they caught the lantern light. Crimson like flames. Crimson like the strikes against her back from the leather whip.

“We can’t have Little Leo finding out, however. He might try to stop me too. I still have uses for that goody-two-shoes.”

Crimson dribbled down her back. Crimson-painted lips appeared in her vision. She wouldn’t be surprised if his eyes were crimson like a demon’s.

“But you, you’re replaceable now.”


The aroma of rich coffee and eggs woke Celes, drawing her out of the already fading dream. When she stretched, her back muscles flexing and stretching, she felt the pull of the wounds on her back, mostly healed from being left alone during her time in chains. She didn’t feel the edges split back open. The guards preferred inflicting pain in other places.

“Morning, you like coffee or tea?” the too-chipper voice from across the room asked.

She rubbed at her eyes with her hand, finding the fingers wet when they pulled away. She turned her head to the side facing away from the stranger so she could wipe the rest of the mess away.

“Either is fine,” Celes replied. She sat up and looked around, part of her still expecting the bloodied floor of her prison, not the neat little room of a country inn with handmade blankets and rugs. This was her first time staying in such a place and she couldn’t help inspecting everything ravenously so she could remember it all in the future.

The clattering of porcelain and a hissed curse floated from across the room and she finally stood, finding her knees and ankles stronger than the day before. No tremors.

The strange man she was staying with was shaking his hand out while arranging the plates and utensils on the table with his other. Must have burned it.

She approached and held out her hand to him, “Here, give me the hand you burned.” It came out more like a command than an entreaty.

“Huh?” He straightened after finishing messing with the cutlery, turning to face her. His brown eyes were curious as he looked down at her. No mistrust. No skepticism.

He did as she asked, fingers warm against her palm, and she closed her eyes, willing it to come, the energy to move, “Cure.” The small green bubbles ebbed out of her hand and bounced onto where he burned himself. When she opened her eyes again, the skin was fading from angry red to the tan shade of the rest of him.

He looked from their hands, his still in hers, to her face and gave her a sun-shining smile, “Thanks! Feels much better now.”

Celes pulled her hand away and sank into the nearest chair, “You’ve seen healing magic before.” It was a statement, not a question. When she looked up from the strips of bacon and fried potatoes to his still grinning face, he nodded.

“From Terra, I assume?”

“That’s right,” Locke sat down opposite her and started adding sugar to his coffee, way too much in her opinion, “Her magic’s gotten us out of some tight squeezes before.”

“Were you the one who found her? We heard that she went missing during the raid in Narshe,” Celes watched him pour an excessive amount of cream gravy over his shredded potatoes and biscuits. Some dripped over the side of his plate onto the tablecloth.

“Yup, one of the Returners found her in the mines with that crown on her head. Right after he removed the crown, the Narshe guards came looking for her,” Locke took a big bite of his biscuits and Celes waited for him to continue. He chewed too fast.

“That’s when I got called on to find her and help her out. The guards were going to kill her otherwise.”

Celes sipped from her mug of coffee, grateful for the warmth to soothe her raw throat. So, she wasn’t the only one who was going to be killed by guards. Both of them were punished for different crimes.

And this strange man, this Returner whose friendliness made Celes’ hackles rise, rescued them both. Regular people weren’t so friendly. Perhaps the Returners liked using him because of his ability to put those around him at ease. The sneaking around and disguise hinted that he was a spy of some kind. Being so exhausted the day before made her too trusting of him.

“The cuts and bruises look a lot better this morning,” he commented, using his fork to point at her neck, “Does your magic make you heal faster?”

“Yes, though my healing spells have never been as strong as Terra’s. I was taught to control spells that could be used for combat and destruction,” Celes answered. She only spoke of her magic like this with Doctor Cid or Leo normally. Her injuries and torture must be the cause for her loose tongue.

“Sounds like you two were pretty close! I’m sure Terra will enjoy seeing you again,” Locke said before finishing off his plate. How in the world did he eat so fast?

“If she remembers me,” Celes ducked her head down and moved her scrambled eggs around her plate, avoiding looking back at his face. Doctor Cid said that the crown caused severe memory loss in the test subjects before Terra. She pushed the melancholy feelings away that started trying to worm into her head. Surely upon meeting her again, Terra would remember her. Two years wearing the slave crown…could it have erased much?


The local farmers were only able to spare one chocobo for their journey to the caves north, which Celes wasn’t entirely pleased with. She would rather bear her remaining aches and pains riding one of the enormous birds alone instead of dealing with the additional jostling and moving of another person in front of her.

They left after picking up some bread and cheese at the general store and Locke sent a carrier pigeon to Narshe to alert the Returners of his arrival within the next few days. She noticed that he included that he was bringing a new Returner with him, but left out her name. The rest of the message was in code—something about willow trees falling in a river. No wonder the Empire had trouble deciphering the Returner’s messages they intercepted. Whoever developed the code must be a crackpot.

Locke managed to buy her the only sword left at the general store as well, an old thing she would need to sharpen when she had the time, but its hilt was strong and the blade sure and straight.

Having the familiar weight of a sword at her hip gave Celes a sense of security for the first time in days. Not the clothes, the meals rich in grease, or even being spirited away from that damned makeshift prison cell, but a weapon.

She did not wrap her arms around him like he suggested when mounting the chocobo, favoring keeping her hands gripping her legs, trying to keep distance between them. She hadn’t ridden on the same bird with somebody since she was a girl, and back then it felt as natural as breathing, clutching onto that olive green military doublet and enjoying his stories while they rode. Leo always told the best stories.

They traveled in quiet for the hours it took to reach the caves leading to the Figaro desert, and upon dismounting and untying their belongings from the saddle, Locke asked, “Do you know if Kefka has any soldiers patrolling around the desert? He had a ship docked to the south before the attack on the castle.”

Celes shook her head after straightening her tunic and adjusting her sword belt, “That was the ship he took to Doma after arresting me.”

“Alright, let’s hope he didn’t leave anybody behind to make life difficult for us.”

“Who knows at this point?” Celes said quietly while settling her bag on her shoulders with consideration for the bruises left. Kefka’s actions as of late have been the most erratic she has ever seen. Losing Terra must have knocked something loose.

“Only one way to find out,” Locke shrugged and let go of the reins of the chocobo. He pat its beak as a farewell and led the way inside the caves. The bird was trained to return home on its own.

Inside the first section, he picked up a torch left against the wall and looked to Celes, “Do you happen to know fire magic?”

“Ice is my element.”

He plucked a box of matches from his pocket and struck it, “Well it’s a good thing I always keep matches on me then! These caves aren’t fun to navigate in the dark.”

Once the flame caught and put out enough light, Locke led the way through the caves, much like how he led the way back in South Figaro. Celes let her eyes wander while they walked, taking in the craggy ground, and the long stalactites which made it appear that they were walking inside a great beast with enormous teeth. Perhaps a dragon.

Rumbling sounded in the distance and dust shuddered down from the ceiling.

“Huh?” Locke stopped without warning, causing Celes to skip back a step before bumping into him. He looked around them, moving his hand and holding the torch as far out as he could reach to attempt to see more in the darkness.

“Do other travelers go through these caves?” Celes asked, watching him put his hand on his belt over one of his daggers.

His eyes were scanning the area still, eyebrows furrowed, “Not often. Most people prefer the mountain passes even though it takes longer because it’s safer.”

When the sounds didn’t return and Locke couldn’t see anything suspicious, they continued through the winding path, though she saw that Locke slipped a dagger into his other hand. His air of easy smiles had morphed into watchful quiet as they walked.

Only their footsteps echoed off the cave walls until they reached a room where a spring of sparkling water was tucked in the back corner.

“We’re almost out of here,” Locke said, “Maybe that noise was just the mountains shaking their heads at what’s going on in the world these days.”

She couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. That smile was easy, the same one he’d been giving her since the day before. She didn’t smile back as she went to the spring’s edge and looked down into the depths. It was so dark she couldn’t see the bottom.

A turtle was floating lazily nearby, bobbing up and down as the water folded over itself, looking completely content while it watched them.

“How long do you estimate it will take to reach Narshe?” Celes asked, crouching down to withdraw a waterskin from her pack to refill it before their trek into the desert.

“It should only take us a few days, maybe three, four at most depending on the weather and if there are any new roadblocks in the way,” he scratched above his ear where one of his bandanas was trying to slide down.

“I doubt Kefka left troops behind to keep watch for Figaro castle to resurface. He was too eager to take care of South Figaro and Doma the last time I saw him…” Celes stood, still facing the water. Leo would be the one to plan for another attempt to raid Narshe for the frozen esper. Kefka was acting much too rash. She understood why Locke was concerned, however. Why should he trust her completely when they’ve only just met? And what if Kefka backtracked after leaving her in South Figaro and did station troops near the desert? Anything was possible.

Before Locke could reply, the rumbling came again, this time louder, closer, much closer. The ground beneath their feet started shaking, and dust and pebbles fell from the ceiling of the cave. The turtle floating in the spring let out a loud rasping croak before diving down into the dark water.

“What the?" Locke started, head turning from side to side, watching the walls, poised to run.

By the time Celes turned around, the side of one wall of the cave crashed open with a deafening blast, showering them with stones and nearly sending them both backward into the spring.

The source of the destruction emerged, blocking the exit leading to the Figaro desert. They didn’t need the torch anymore. A new, blinding source of light revealed a massive obsidian machine that had bright headlights on either side of the blazing blood-red emblem of the Empire on the steel plate above the huge front wheel. The machine had two arm-like appendages with drills at the ends.

Through the falling dust, Celes saw a familiar shape in the cockpit perched atop the machine guarded by steel spikes: the helmet of a Magitek Knight.

“I can’t believe he brought this thing with him,” Celes breathed, fighting off the urge to cough.

Locke looked at her with wide eyes, “You know what this thing is?”

The machine revved its wheels and started towards them, both drill arms whirring. Celes pulled Locke with her, dodging the nearest drill, pulled her sword from its sheath, and dropped her pack from her shoulders.

“It’s called tunnel armor,” Celes kept her eyes on the Magitek Knight inside the machine. “They use it when excavating in the mountains for ore deposits!”

The machine spun around towards them, drills swinging, and a bolt of lightning cracked right in front of Locke, just barely missing him. He flung himself backward and threw the torch at the cockpit, but the fire didn’t even leave a scorch mark on the metal.

“Oh great! That asshole knows magic!” Locke yelled, scrambling to his feet, “What the hell are we supposed to do now?!”

Another bolt of lightning cracked in the air over Celes, but instead of striking her dead on, her whole body glowed white briefly, and the spell melted down into the tip of her sword.

Her eyes glowed an icy blue when she looked at Locke, “Focus on cutting the joints apart! I’ll absorb the spells!”

He blinked, shocked, before he shook himself and pulled another dagger from his belt. Now with a blade in each hand, Locke sprinted to the tunnel armor, dashing to the side to avoid another swipe of the drill arm, and hopped onto the side of the machine above one of the back wheels. He started slashing wires at the base of the arm and wherever else he saw an opening in the hull.

On the other side, Celes focused the spell she absorbed into her sword to slash the spell back at the tunnel armor, aiming directly at the Magitek Knight inside. The impact of her attack caused the machine to rock sideways.

The roaring of the tunnel armor filled the cave and lightning thundered down, now more haphazard. The Knight inside the cockpit was moving the levers around in a flurry and looked to be screaming his spells.

She saw Locke’s head appear over the top of the hull after one of the drill arms fell with a crash and a shower of sparks. He grinned at her before climbing up next to the cockpit, looking quickly for places to start cutting at next.

More spells rained down and Celes held her sword high, inhaling deep to keep her focus on drawing the energy into her. The act was mending her body faster than any medicine or simple healing spell. Her aches and pains were gone, her cuts healed, and her fatigue diminished completely.

She rushed the machine, her sword already moving in an arc to the nearest joint on the remaining drill arm, and cut clean through it, sending the drill flying to the ground. Celes jumped and landed on the hull catlike, cutting down the remainder of the arm the same moment her heels hit the metal.

She pointed her sword directly at the Magitek Knight inside the cockpit whose young face was dripping with sweat and whose eyes were wild.

“Locke! You need to get out of the way,” she shouted over the roaring of the engines. She maintained eye contact with the Knight while Locke leaped off the back of the machine where he had been trying to break apart the mechanism that held the reinforced glass dome over the Knight in place.

Celes knew the Knight. They were sparring partners numerous times. His affinity for lightning magic was exceptional.

“Surrender,” she commanded, making sure that he could read her lips.

The Knight bared his teeth and she was able to read his response easily.

“Traitorous bitch!”

Another spark of lightning erupted.

“Then die,” Celes breathed deeply again, her hair broke free of the tie holding it in place and flew out all around her when the lightning struck her body, this spell the strongest yet. She glimmered, the Knight’s last spell warped and sped to her blade. She swung her sword with both hands gripping the handle and slashed the dome over the cockpit, cutting through easily into glass and bone.

The lightning she absorbed caused her strike to cauterize instantly, leaving behind a burned slash starting at the Knight’s shoulder down to his hip where his entrails tried oozing from the cracks behind the scorched flesh.

His eyes were open still, gazing up at nothing. His name whispered into her mind.

She knelt and flipped the power switch on the control panel, causing the entire tunnel armor to tremble before powering down with a metallic wheeze from the exhaust pipes. The headlights remained on.

“Damn!” came Locke’s voice below. “That was close!”

Celes looked away from her recent comrade, one of the many she turned her back on, and found where Locke was gathering up their travel packs from the ground.

“Let’s leave,” she slid down the side of the machine and sheathed her sword once her feet touched the ground.

“What kind of magic was that?” Locke asked after handing her travel pack to her outstretched hand. “I’ve never seen anything like it!”

“Runic magic, according to Doctor Cid,” Celes sighed and headed to the exit of the cave without looking at Locke or the smoking machine and dead Knight.

He trotted after her, “Well, it was amazing! Hell, no wonder you got to be a general so young with that kind of power!”

Her skin prickled, tingling still from absorbing so much magic in such a short amount of time. Locke’s praises were setting her on edge. She didn’t respond to them.

Warm air blew into the cave from the exit and she saw scrubby grass and weeds clustered along the path.

She paused once she reached the exit and unwrapped one of the scarves from her neck to tie her hair back, now wild from her magic.

Locke stopped his commentary, “Oh hey, your bruises are gone!” He was all smiles now that they were safely out of the caves.

“Yes, that’s what happens when I steal others’ spells.” She didn’t want to discuss it further.

“That’ll be useful against the Empire when they attack again,” Locke beamed and led the way north from the caves at an easy pace.

“Right,” Celes followed him along the dried-out path on the outskirts of the Figaro desert.

The evening was coming, and so would setting up camp somewhere for the night, probably far off the main path hidden away, maybe near a stream. Locke would continue asking questions over their bread and cheese, probing for whatever information she felt like sharing. She didn’t blame him. He was a Returner after all.

She needed to get used to answering questions, giving away Imperial secrets, and disclosing anything the Returners could use in their rebellion against the Empire. In his message, Locke referred to her as a new Returner.

Perhaps being a Returner would be better than being a traitor to the whole world she left behind.

Notes:

Hello again!
Wow, why are you posting on a Sunday, Moogle?
I'm glad you asked audience who probably doesn't mind!! I tried the Friday schedule, and I dunno, it felt weird. So, let's start off our weeks with a new chapter of this series instead! I didn't want to say, "Oh I'm gonna post on Sundays" and push when I posted this chapter back a few days and prolong the wait. Also, I'm kinda chaotic at times so yay?
Anyways, so why did I decide to go so heavy with this chapter? Like the different ways Celes got tortured? Because I grew up with the SNES version, and I've always thought that when they were torturing Celes while knowing she was going to die the next day that it would be like a free-for-all.

As some of you may know who've read my pre-game fics, I've always thought that Celes and Terra knew each other growing up, that they were friends, at least in some capacity. In my head, it makes sense because they're both around the same age, magic users, and I can see Cid or Leo or Gestahl thinking the girls would be more pliable to do what they want if they had a friend to play with and learn their powers together. And Celes saying, "Who would have thought we would meet again like this?" reinforces that headcanon. I forget which translation that's from, probably from the SNES version because that's the one I played the most. And while I was drafting this chapter, I kept thinking about Celes' character motivations for why she would follow Locke around and wanting a chance to get back at Kefka and see Terra again made the most sense. Like, Celes didn't have a slave crown on her head, she's not confused and dealing with amnesia, so after healing she could have just gone off on her own instead of sticking around with Locke. Yeah, he saved her from getting executed, but it always kind of rubbed me the wrong way that she would follow him around out of obligation and thinking she has nothing better to do.
(Oh, and I adore the idea that she knows about Cyan. I mean, she was a general for the Empire! Of course, she would have to learn about the different kingdoms and military people! I want to use this novelization as a way to explore their relationship and how she could win his trust. Especially since she compliments the flowers he made in the WoR!)
Oops, this author's note got long, sorry about that!
Thank you so much for reading this quickly becoming monster of a fic, and I hope you have a lovely day! :D

Chapter 14: Bear Your Wounds

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Finding ways to stay calm in life was essential. Even during times of war, one must have moments of pause to find something to remind them to keep going, keep pressing forwards, to give them the strength to continue fighting.

For Cyan, drinking tea from his beloved helped give him peace. It was a special green tea brewed with orange blossoms and she made sure to send some along hidden in his satchel with his field provisions. The pleasure in finding the carefully wrapped container brought a smile to his lips and the aroma of the tea upon opening it sent him back home as if by magic. As if he was back in their suite on the sofa together in front of the fireplace, sharing cups of the steaming beverage while they discussed their days.

Simple pleasures. A reminder that he had a home to return to soon.

“Sir Cyan!” his partner appeared by his side, his face grave.

“Yes? Pray tell me why you appear so troubled,” Cyan’s hand tightened around his mug.

“The Imperials have begun their march into the outskirts of our domain,” his partner looked to the east, at the horizon where the sun was gradually sinking behind the ancient trees that made up the forest surrounding the castle.

From the top of their watch tower, Cyan was able to see only the ripples of heat in the distance. “You’re certain?”

“Riders bring the news. We must prepare,” he bowed his head, “I will alert our comrades.”

Cyan closed his eyes, “I will speak with the king.”

His partner bowed again and hurried down the weathered stone steps to the ground far below, then sprinted back to the castle with an urgent speed that revealed his true fear. The Imperials must be marching with Magitek armor like they had with the cities on the Southern Continent, like with Narshe only recently.

In his heart, he knew the battle was going to be fraught with much bloodshed. Those unnatural monstrosities would lay waste to their mighty kingdom if he and his fellows couldn’t find a way to overcome them. He drank the remainder of his tea, letting himself enjoy the lingering scent for a brief moment before readying his equipment to return to the castle.

“May more blood lay on our hands than on those of our enemies…”


Waking up soaking wet, face down, covered in algae slop, and with mud in his nose and mouth wasn’t Sabin’s ideal way to return to consciousness. He spluttered water out of his mouth and flopped over onto his back so he could sit up and assess his surroundings.

One moment, he’s trying to attack some purple, eight-armed freak, then the next moment he’s waking up…where was he?

There were cattails and a mess of tall grass all around him along the riverbank. Insects were buzzing and darting about, and there were birds soaring overhead in the gray sky. The sun was beginning to peer out from a cluster of thin clouds.

“Looks like I missed the storm,” he mumbled to himself, eyeing the looming thunderhead clouds on the horizon making their way in the opposite direction.

“Wark!”

“What’s that?!” Sabin whipped his head around, looking for the source of the loud squawk and saw an enormous sunshine yellow bird not too far away clawing the grass with its large talons. Clumps of mud dropped to his damp pants when he turned his head and reminded him that he needed to wash his face off.

He crawled down gingerly to the river’s edge, being careful not to slide back into the water, and cupped his hands to start splashing the water in his face. Thankfully, the debris washed away easily and he didn’t have to outright dunk his head into the river to scrub off the slimy algae and mud. Though he did have to yank some strands of the algae from his hair where it got wrapped around his short ponytail at the base of his head. His travel pack which miraculously didn’t get swept off his shoulders felt twice as heavy thanks to getting soaked through. He’d have to lay his clothes out to dry at some point.

Another squawk came from nearby, and Sabin stood and decided to go greet the chocobo and its owner. Hopefully they were friendly enough to point Sabin in the right direction to get back to his twin.

He found that the chocobo was in a clearing tied to an old fence that was part of what must have been a stable. It was hard to tell since weeds and grass had grown wild all around the structure.

The saddle on the chocobo’s back looked worn with use. A short sword was attached to the side.

Low voices came from behind him and Sabin took in the rest of the clearing. There was a well at the center surrounded by broken flat stones which must have been placed to keep weeds from growing too close. An old house stood to his left with shutters that appeared to be trying to fall from their hinges and a sunken porch.

On the other side of the well was a masked man dressed in black speaking to who must be a merchant judging by the large canvas sacks attached to his chocobo’s saddle.

“Hey there!” Sabin jogged up to the men, unable to keep the smile off his face.

What luck! They must know their way around here! The pair looked up at Sabin’s approach.

The merchant cocked his head to the side, scrutinizing Sabin’s wet and disheveled appearance, “What happened to you, son? Fall in the river?”

“Yeah, something like that,” Sabin beamed, “Can you guys tell me where I am? How can I get to Narshe from here?”

“Narshe? Oh my, you’re quite a ways away from there,” the merchant gave him an amused smile, “We’re a few miles north of Doma. There should be a ship sailing from their harbor…”

“No, the Imperials already occupied it,” the man in black spoke in a low voice Sabin was surprised didn’t sound too muffled from behind his mask. The fabric covering the lower half of his face must be thinner than it looked.

“Gosh, really? I wonder if I could still get on a ship headed towards Narshe,” Sabin scrunched up his face in thought and scratched at the back of his neck which was beginning to get itchy from drying in the sun. That river water must not have been entirely clean.

The merchant shrugged, “Maybe with enough coin you could buy a seat. Where there’s a gil, there’s a way!”

The man in black withdrew a handful of coins from a pouch on his belt and dropped them into the merchant’s hand, nodded, and stalked away to his chocobo.

Sabin followed him.

“Hey, do you think you could show me the way to that harbor?”

The man didn’t say anything while he loaded his saddlebag with his purchases. Lots of medicine and field rations.

“Ya know, since I’m new to the area, I’d probably get lost real easy,” Sabin continued, unperturbed by the stranger’s silence. “I got separated from my brother, and maybe if you help me get to Narshe, he could pay you a ton of money. He’s loaded!”

Then the door of the old house banged open and out stepped an elderly man with wild gray hair dressed in a brown tunic way too big for him.

“What’re you people doing in my house?! He bellowed, waving his hand around from the merchant to Sabin and the man in black.

“We’re not in your house, you old fool!” the merchant yelled back. He didn’t look angry at the old man’s loud accusation, but like he was used to the exchange. Business as usual.

“You got my eggs and milk? Or do I have to mow my grass myself?!” the old man crossed his arms and glared at the merchant before stomping back into his house.

The merchant sighed and shook his head and withdrew a neatly wrapped bundle from one of his saddlebags and followed after the old man, grumbling to himself about how many deliveries he had left.

Sabin turned his attention back to the stranger, “So if you’re not busy right now, will you help me out?” Sabin asked, smiling, hoping that the promise of money would entice him.

He looked at Sabin, his dark eyes sharp, assessing, “Fine, but know that my services are not cheap.”

Sabin nodded and his smile widened, “I didn’t catch your name, mine’s Sabin!”

“Call me Shadow,” he buttoned up his last pouch on the saddle and looked towards the trees and whistled.

Out of the tree line hurried a large black dog with a rabbit hanging limp between it’s sharp teeth. The dog looked at Sabin, flared its nostrils as he sniffed the air, and went to Shadow’s side with his tail wagging.

“Hey there, buddy!” Sabin reached down to pet the dog, but a snarl rippled from the dog’s throat, causing him to jerk his hand away.

“The dog eats strangers,” Shadow said, glancing at Sabin before mounting his chocobo. “We’ll go to the nearby settlement and get you a bird. I don’t want you slowing me down…”

He nudged the chocobo with his heels and set off without another word at a slow pace with the dog trotting next to him. Sabin adjusted the straps of his travel bag and jogged to catch up.

There weren’t any trails in the high grasses around them, so Sabin assumed there weren’t too many travelers going through the area. Or perhaps the Imperials caused people to be wary of travel.

It only took them an hour to reach the settlement thankfully. Sabin could keep jogging along for ages, but he knew having a chocobo to ride would be better in the long run.

The settlement was comprised of several farmhouses, barns, and one big building that was both a shop and an inn.

Shadow covered the cost of renting the chocobo, and before Sabin had much chance to talk with any of the locals, they were on their way south.

Now that Sabin was comfortably riding atop a friendly hen, he asked, “How long ago did you see that harbor occupied? Could the Imperials have left by now?”

He saw Shadow shake his head, “Once the Empire gains control, they will not let it go.”

“Maybe I can pretend to be a merchant or something to catch a ride north. What do you think of that plan?”

Shadow was quiet for a moment, then said, “They will require proof.”

“Crap, I didn’t think of that,” Sabin sighed and looked up at the sky which was such a pretty blue.

He could have sworn he heard Shadow say, “Obviously.”

Riding with Shadow was a quiet affair. Sabin continued to try to start conversations, but only received short answers and hardly any openings to keep talking. It reminded him of the trips he went on with Master Duncan and Vargas, but then again, those trips were on foot, and they were burdened with much heavier bags full of months' worth of supplies. It was difficult to carry on conversations when they were focusing on keeping their breathing measured and keeping their stamina up.

By the time they reached the harbor, and the sun was beginning its descent, Sabin saw that it was indeed still occupied by the Empire. There were what looked like new wire fences set up around the perimeter and Magitek armored soldiers were guarding the entrance. There were three ships docked from what he could see and there were only Imperials inside the fence.

Shadow looked at him after bringing his chocobo to a stop as if to say “See? I was right.”

Sabin urged his bird towards the main entrance of the harbor and said over his shoulder, “It’s still worth a shot to ask them.”

He heard Shadow follow, and they continued marching until they were face to face with the pair of Magitek Knights blocking off the entrance.

“Hello there!” Sabin called up at them, letting go of the reins to show his hands were empty, that he wasn’t going to stir up trouble. “Are there any ships heading north to Narshe? And if so, can I catch a ride?”

The Knight to the left scowled down at them, “Not for anybody who’s not an Imperial.”

“But what if I’m able to pay a lot for a seat?”

The Knight to the right angled one of the arms of his Magitek Armor at Sabin and Shadow.

It had a canon attachment and the opening started glowing. “Get out of here! We’re not admitting civilians on the ships!”

The large black dog at Shadow’s side growled up at the soldier. Shadow turned and caught Sabin’s arm as he moved, “Let’s leave.”

Seeing the canon glowing brighter, any other pleas or arguments fizzled away in Sabin’s mouth, and he turned his chocobo away from the Knights too. Shadow led the way to a forest far from the harbor to set up camp for the oncoming night.

Sabin hopped off his chocobo and led it to a gnarled oak tree to tie the reins in place.

“Gosh, where can we try next? I’ve got to get to Narshe as soon as possible…” Sabin looked to Shadow who was setting some sticks up to start a campfire. His dog was sniffing around the underbrush near Shadow’s chocobo with his tail wagging.

Shadow didn’t speak until Sabin dropped his pack on the ground and sank down next to it, “There is another harbor next to Doma castle on the other side of the river.”

“Maybe I can get on a ship there,” Sabin watched Shadow light the fire and clear more brush away from the base of the flames.

“If the Empire hasn’t taken Doma, then it is a possibility.”

Sabin nodded and decided to see what rations he had in his bag that weren’t ruined from his fall into the river. He had only been away from Edgar for a day, but the pang in his chest every time he thought of his older twin grew stronger. He hoped that he would get to Narshe before the Empire finally attacked.


“Why do I always get stuck with the crap work?” the soldier asked the lab equipment. The beakers and test tubes didn’t respond. He sipped at his coffee, a cold brew because General Leo wanted to save power in their camp, so he and his fellow soldiers set up their coffee to slowly drip brew overnight. It was much stronger than he liked, so he spooned some sugar into his mug. Why his commander didn’t want to brew coffee over a fire? Who knows. Control freak.

“This is what I get for being a doctor’s son, I guess,” he put his chin in his hands and watched the chemicals boil down. He’d already finished Kefka’s medicine; now he was stuck watching the rare mushrooms, monster venom, and the strange glowing purple substance stolen from Doctor Cid’s lab mix together into a lethal cocktail. Add it to the dam the Doman’s set up at the mouth of the river and the poison would contaminate the water for days, maybe even weeks if it stained the machinery and soaked into the river plants enough before it killed those too.

“I guess this will save us a bunch of time and manpower, but if he wanted to use this stuff, then why are we even here?”

The air changed in the tent, causing his skin to prickle.

Before he could figure out what was happening, a familiar voice asked, “Is the poison ready yet?”

The soldier turned and saw Kefka pushing the flap of the tent out of the way and entered, face so pale it was nearly gray. The shadows under his eyes were like purple bruises from getting punched in the face. Maybe General Leo knocked some sense into him…it was a nice thought.

“It’ll be a few more hours, sir,” the soldier said, quickly moving his eyes away from Kefka’s gaze. The general, no, now top Magitek Knight and official Court Mage, hated eye contact with those he deemed beneath him. Which was everybody.

Kefka scowled and took the stool at the other side of the table, eyes now watching the chemicals bubble and slosh around inside the glass.

His lips, pale as well, curled into that manic grin, “Those pathetic insects won’t know what’s happening until it’s too late!”

The soldier just sipped at his coffee and nodded. He pushed down the guilt swarming around in his head. He’d better keep his mouth shut if he wanted to keep his head on his shoulders.

“Is that my medicine?” Kefka already picked up the glass bottle with the cork stopper, holding it up to the lantern light above to examine the shimmering blue liquid inside.

“Yes sir,” the soldier said. That explained why the air felt strange. Kefka’s magic was acting up.

Kefka uncorked the bottle and drank it down in one go, his whole body shivering once he swallowed down the last of the medicine.

He threw the empty bottle at the wooden bucket in the corner, not missing, and cracked his neck with one last shiver. “That stuff is disgusting. That little blonde brat got to stop taking it years ago, but oh no, the good doctor says I still need to take it every month…”

The soldier didn’t reply, surprised that Kefka divulged info like that to him. Maybe it was because he was going to apprentice under Doctor Cid in the labs once they returned to Vector.

The air around him stopped crackling almost immediately, and Kefka went to the opening of the tent, now moving slower, sluggish.

“Bring me that poison as soon as it’s ready,” Kefka said, voice higher in pitch, and left the soldier alone in the tent. No cursing. No threats.

If receiving those magic infusions and becoming a Magitek Knight meant taking medicine like that to keep himself under control, the soldier decided he wouldn’t apply to become one in the future. He’ll be happy becoming a lab rat.


Sabin and Shadow had to ditch their chocobos in the last part of the forest before they reached the Imperial camp set up on the river. It was still early in the morning when they stopped and removed their belongings from the birds’ saddles and the sun was just barely peering out from over the horizon.

The skies were red. Not pink, not orange, but red.

“Will your dog be able to sneak around without giving us away?” Sabin pointed at the dark hound sitting next to Shadow and snuffling the grass with his ears up and floppy.

He could have sworn Shadow glared at him, but it was too hard to tell.

“Worry about yourself,” was his response. He settled his long black cloak over his dark clothes and short sword and started off towards the Imperial camp, keeping his pace steady and keeping to the trees and high grasses. The dog, Interceptor—Sabin finally heard Shadow say his name the night before while they were eating dinner—followed him swiftly, barely making a sound as he moved through the grass and weeds.

Feeling like a child who just got his mouth smacked for being a smartass to his tutors, Sabin went after Shadow, trying to step as lightly and carefully as he could, and wondered why the man thought he would be better at sneaking during the day even though he was wearing nearly all black. Wouldn’t that make him stand out even more when everything around them was in shades of brown and green? He was dying to ask why Shadow wore dark clothes in the first place and why he was wearing that mask, but Shadow’s demeanor gave him pause about asking those questions.

What kind of work did he normally do anyways? Sabin could only think of one type of profession where people kept their faces covered like that. Some questions are better left unasked, he supposed.

As they approached the camp, Sabin noticed that the general buzzes and squawking of life around them quieted. By the time they were crouched down behind a grouping of barrels and sandbags on the outskirts of the camp, all the sounds save for the activities the soldiers were doing were gone.

“How far from the camp do you think the harbor is?” Sabin whispered, leaning in close next to Shadow while the other man was looking through the spaces in between the barrels into the camp.

“Not far. The soldiers are preparing for something,” Shadow breathed, now angling his face higher, nearly letting the top of his head show over top of the barrels.

Sabin moved to look into the spaces between crates he was closest to and saw soldiers dressed in brown and green uniforms loading their rifles and strapping swords to their hips.

“Oh damn, they’re preparing to attack, aren’t they?” Sabin’s voice rose a little too much for Shadow’s liking and earned a hush.

Shadow and Interceptor crept away towards another set of crates and sandbags, keeping track of the soldiers’ movements. He held up a hand, signaling for Sabin to stay where he was when Sabin started crawling on his hands and knees after him.

Back at the openings Sabin was looking through before, he saw a pair of Imperials standing together and seeming to be commiserating.

“Why can’t General Leo make Kefka go away? Everything was easier before that nut job showed up!” one of the soldiers said, struggling to get his sword sheath to buckle correctly to his belt.

“Ever since he got promoted, he’s been able to do whatever he wants…I don’t think General Leo has authority over him anymore.” The other soldier was loading his rifle with shiny new bullets.

“Shit, you’d think after failing with Narshe and Figaro castle, Kefka would get the boot!” the first soldier nearly yelled.

His comrade smacked him on the arm, “Shut up! What if he hears you talking like that?!” he hissed.

“I think the promotion came from him taking South Figaro so easily,” his comrade took hold of his belt and did a quick adjustment to his sword, and then it was settled correctly at his hip.

“Thanks,” the first soldier said, “There’s just something so…inhuman about Kefka. At least General Leo listens to us and seems to give a shit about people.”

Sabin saw the other soldier shove the first one away, then a cold, high voice came from nearby.

“Stop dawdling and go join the assault team, you two.”

The hairs on the back of Sabin’s neck rose.

“Yes sir! We were just readying our weapons!” one of the soldiers replied.

A green cape flapped briefly into view before the profile of a harsh thin face appeared, sneering at the pair of soldiers, “I don’t care what you were doing, just go!”

They saluted and ran away, not even responding with another “Yes sir!”

The man’s sneer was exaggerated by the crimson paint on his mouth and the silver and gold accents on his cheeks and around his eyes made his glare even more menacing.

“That must be Kefka!” Sabin ducked his head away from the opening and kept still, waiting to hear Kefka’s retreating footsteps. That was the man Edgar told him who set fire to the castle and planted a spy. It was his fault that some of Edgar’s engineers and guards died that day. And that was the man who was responsible for making Terra do those horrible things while wearing the slave crown.

He looked over to Shadow and Interceptor after hearing footsteps, and after a moment, Shadow nodded.

Sabin crawled to him and whispered, “Did you hear all of that?”

“We’ve got to move quickly,” Shadow’s voice was even and his dark eyes didn’t give away any emotion that Sabin could read. He couldn’t help but wonder if Shadow cared about the upcoming attack or if he was only concerned about getting to the harbor. Either way, Sabin followed Shadow and Interceptor deeper into the Imperial camp.


“I urge you to see the physician about that cough,” Cyan said, placing his glove covered hand on the young man’s shoulder. When the youth pulled the handkerchief away from his mouth, they both saw speckled blood.

“Oh dear, you could be developing pneumonia!” Cyan squeezed his shoulder, but the youth interrupted.

“Sir Cyan, I will be able to lend my sword for this battle. I am still strong and breathing easy,” the youth smiled up at him and tucked the handkerchief in his pants pocket before hurrying away to join his comrades in line at the main gates.

There were many in the castle coughing within the last couple days, many made visits to the physicians, and many were in beds in the infirmary receiving medications to try to stop the coughing. Nothing seemed to be helping any of the people, however.

“The Imperials are approaching!” announced Sir Frederic from the battlement above them, “On my signal, open the gates!”

Cyan ascended the nearest staircase spiraling up to join Frederic and his other swordsmen.

From over the stone wall, he could see the lines of Imperials on foot marching towards their castle and at the back was a line of Magitek Knights in their horrendous mechanical armors.

“Only five of them,” the swordsman to Cyan’s right commented, using his hand to shield the sun from his eyes while he examined the approaching regiment. “And it appears that they do not have those shields around the pilots.”

“Excellent,” Cyan replied, “Once we fell those pilots and their commander, then they will surely retreat.”

“Now!” Sir Frederic shouted and then the main gates rumbled open, unleashing their soldiers upon the oncoming Imperials.

The sounds of swords clanging and crashing together blended with men yelling and crying out. Cyan looked from the swordsmen at his sides to the Magitek armor and they jumped over the side of the parapet as one, each landing on the hulls of the machines, catching the pilots by surprise.

His long blade swung in a clean line, severing the pilot’s head from his shoulders. The machine idled, the pilot’s hands no longer moving across the control panel. Blood spurted out of the neck stump and started reddening the pilot’s brown uniform coat with the golden pins showing his rank and specialty. The head fell into his lap. Cyan couldn’t see whether the pilot’s eyes were still open.

Each pilot was dead in their seat and when Cyan and his fellow swordsmen looked down at the soldiers on foot, screams came up from all around them.

The commander is dead! The Knights are dead! Run! Run! Retreat!!!

Cyan flicked the tip of his sword free of blood, “Let us bring these machines inside and wait out our enemy. Gather our wounded and whoever of these Imperial dogs is still breathing.”

He sheathed his sword and hopped down from the Magitek Armor without another glance at the corpse and began checking on the soldiers on the ground, both Doman and Imperial.


“C’mon Shadow! I bet we can find some useful stuff around here!” Sabin whispered with a huge grin. It was dangerous, but maybe they could take advantage of having to sneak through the Imperial camp.

Their first target was a large canvas tent surrounded on three sides by a barbed wire fence. When the only soldier they could see nearby had his back turned, Sabin and Shadow rushed into the tent as quietly as they could on their hands and knees with Interceptor slipping in after them.

The empty tent must have been one of the tents used for strategy meetings because the majority of the floor space was occupied by a table covered in a large array of maps and ashtrays. Two brass lanterns long blown out hung from the support beam above the table. Enough daylight spilled in from the opening of the tent to give them plenty of light to explore. The maps showed different mountain passes in the area, train routes leading out of Narshe, villages and towns with lists of family names in the margins, and even maps of different castles. Figaro being one!

“How the hell do they have a map of Figaro?” Sabin gasped, eyes roving over the familiar corridors and suites. That spy from Edgar’s guards must have sent the map before Kefka attacked! He saw Shadow move over to a cluster of boxes near the back of the tent, not replying to Sabin’s outburst.

“I wonder if they’ll try to attack the castle again…” Sabin examined more of the maps and took the one of Figaro and a map of Doma and the surrounding region. There was another harbor nearby, just as Shadow said. He folded them up and tucked them into his bag.

He crawled over to where Shadow was picking out knives from a trunk and decided to snoop around in the crate next to him. It didn’t have a lock holding it shut, but the lid wasn’t opening when Sabin tried opening it. He didn’t want to chance breaking anything and making noise, but his fingers were too big to jimmy the switch loose.

That was a big reason why he never bothered much with the little gadgets Edgar loved tinkering with. Once they hit their growth spurts, Edgar’s hands remained slender like their mother’s and Sabin’s hands grew large like their father’s. Learning martial arts under Master Duncan probably didn’t help matters.

He groaned, his curiosity and frustration taking over, and decided to break the lid off. He made a fist and brought it down over the lid, creating a splintery hole.

“YEEOOUCH!” Sabin couldn’t hold his yelp of pain back! The splinters burned and stung!

Shadow’s head snapped around and Sabin could swear he saw a look of “What the hell did you do that for?!” in the mercenary’s eyes.

Before Sabin could explain or look inside the box, they heard, “HEY! Who’s in there?!”

Shadow elbowed Sabin in the ribs hard and slid himself under the darkest hiding place in the opposite corner of the tent. Sabin scrambled under the table and curled up into the smallest ball he could manage. If they got caught, how much more would Shadow charge him?

Heavy footsteps approached the tent and a voice called out a “Who’s in there? I know I heard something!”

He saw that the black boots hadn’t stepped into the tent yet. The soldier must have just poked his head in the flap. Sabin’s mind raced. What could he do to make the soldier go away? He couldn’t chance letting the soldier look under the table and discover him!

“Mmraoowww!” Sabin let out his best cat imitation and crossed all his fingers that it was convincing enough. Shadow must be rolling his eyes or glaring daggers at him.

“Pah,” the soldier scoffed, “Just a lousy cat. Better be catching mice for us!”

The black boots retreated, and they waited a few more moments before moving from their hiding places. Shadow made it to the broken box before Sabin could and he withdrew a small golden star pendant on a chain that couldn’t have been bigger than his palm.

“This better have been worth it,” Shadow’s eyes narrowed at Sabin and he flung it in his face. At least the pointy parts didn’t hit his eye.

Shadow pushed past Sabin and led the way out of the tent, glancing around once at the entrance, then crawled over to a low stone wall off to the side of the tent. Below was a ditch dug out that the Imperials were dumping different types of waste, so sneaking past through there was off the table.

Their way forward was cut off by a stream and stacks of crates and sandbags. There was a little makeshift bridge across the stream, and it appeared to be their only option to continue through the camp. And there was a soldier in brown wandering around a tent right next to the bridge.

“I wonder why he didn’t have to go with the others to fight,” Sabin whispered, watching the bored soldier taking lazy steps, pacing back and forth and letting out sighs.

“They have sentinels to keep watch for intruders like us,” Shadow replied flatly.

“Oh, well how should we get past him? Wait until he wanders into the tent and make a run for it?”

“You answered your own question,” Shadow put one hand on Interceptor’s back and pointed to the bridge. He made a sort of flicking movement with his fingers, and as soon as the soldier in brown down the path had his back turned, Interceptor was off.

The hound leaped clear over the water in a fluid movement and then he was behind the nearest barrel before the soldier turned back around, not showing any signs of noticing anything was amiss at all.

Master Duncan always told Sabin that patience was a virtue. And his parents would tell him that a lot when he was young. And his tutors. And even Matron when she would watch over him and Edgar while their parents were too busy with their royal duties.

And patience was horrible.

Shadow seemed to have plenty of it as they waited, watching the Imperial pacing around that tent, waiting for him to stop gazing at the clouds sailing above. Minutes passed at a snail’s pace. No, worse than a snail’s pace. The minutes passed slower than his pet turtle crossing the room to pick up a toy in his mouth to bring back to Sabin so they could continue their game of fetch when he was a kid. For some reason Sabin didn’t mind having to wait so long back then.

As soon as the soldier in brown’s back was turned, Shadow moved, keeping low, holding his short sword to prevent it jostling together with the other blades clipped to his belt. Sabin watched as Shadow crept across the small bridge on cat’s paws, barely making a sound, and then he disappeared behind the cluster of barrels Interceptor hid.

Sabin’s heart clawed its way up into his throat. It was his turn now! He needed to imitate Shadow, move swiftly, quietly. Wait for the soldier to pace slowly up the dirt path, then back down and turn…

He stole softly from his hiding place, stepping on tiptoe, keeping low like Shadow had, taking care to watch the soldier let out his despondent sigh, and taking advantage of his long stride, Sabin crossed the bridge in two steps and practically dove behind the nearest crates.

He did it! No angry yelling, no accusations or chasing! He let out a sigh of relief.

From the corner of one of the crates, a pair of gloved fingers gestured at Sabin in a beckoning manner. He readjusted his bag straps on his shoulders and crawled on his hands and knees after Shadow and Interceptor. They ended up moving between stacks and piles of supplies until they followed a little alleyway in between the tents and crumbling stone walls. He wasn’t sure if the Imperials made those stone walls, or if they were the remains of an old fort of some kind, but he was glad of the additional cover while they navigated the camp.

“You all were correct in coming back to camp instead of staying and fighting.”

The deep voice startled Sabin out of his curious internal musings.

Sabin stopped crawling and grabbed onto Shadow’s cloak to make him stop too. The large brown tent they were currently going around had people inside! Interceptor halted at Shadow’s side and seemed to be listening to the conversation going on inside the tent as well.

“That must have been Garamonde’s plan, sending foot soldiers out first, then ambushing the Knights with their best swordsmen,” the deep male voice continued, admiration in his tone.

“Yes sir, he was one of the swordsmen who attacked the Knights. It all happened so fast!” the other voice was young, as if from a teenager who got drafted into the military, “We weren’t even able to get inside the main gates.”

“If the Emperor hadn’t summoned me back to Vector, I would look forward to the prospect of a proper duel with Sir Cyan Garamonde.”

“Did the Emperor explain why you’re needed back home, General Leo?”

“Unfortunately no,” Sabin heard a chair being pushed back and a glass being sat down, “I’ve written down instructions on what you need to do next.”

“What should I do if Kefka wants to attack earlier than your timeline, General?”

Footsteps moved away to the front of the tent. The trio started crawling again, ears trained on the voices still.

“Kefka won’t want to do anything until he’s feeling up to joining in the battle. When I was discussing this with him earlier, he made it clear he was looking forward to trying out an ‘experiment’ on the Domans.”

Shadow, Sabin, and Interceptor reached the front corner of the tent and paused, peering at the men standing together speaking.

One, considerably taller than the other, was wearing an olive-green duster coat with gold embellishments along the cuffs and collar. His pale hair was tousled as if he had been running his fingers through it during the course of the conversation. He was carefully tucking scrolls into a large gray travel bag.

The other soldier, a pimply teenager like Sabin assumed, didn’t look happy, “An experiment? Did he specify what on earth that meant?” He looked through the papers in his hands as if one held the answer.

General Leo shook his head, “Knowing Kefka, it won’t be pleasant.”

Once he finished buttoning his bag, Leo clapped the teen on the shoulder, like an older brother to a younger brother, “You’re intelligent. I trust that you will make the right choice when the time comes. Just keep a level head.”

A nervous, but happy smile broke out on the youth’s face, “I’ll make you proud, sir!”

And with that, the teen hurried away into the maze of tents.

They watched Leo shoulder his travel bag and start walking down to the path leading between the tents to the main entrance of the camp.

But a high, cruel voice sang out, “My, my! Dearest Leo! Leaving me so soon?”

Leo stopped abruptly and turned to look at the newcomer in all his silken finery and garish makeup glory.

“You sound as if you will miss me, Kefka. I’m so touched that you care,” Leo’s voice was stern, causing his sarcasm to take on a hint of distaste.

Kefka fluttered both hands to his throat in mock surprise, eyes wide, causing his emerald cape to flounce around him and jewelry to jingle, “Why, of course I’ll miss hearing your simpering, sad little goody-two-shoes ideas during our war meetings! They’re almost more entertaining than figuring out ways to destroy our enemies!”

Sabin saw how Leo gritted his teeth and practically spat out his words.

“Follow our plan, Kefka, just like we discussed. I left a written copy with the commanders,” Leo stepped closer to Kefka and pointed a finger at him, “Nothing dirty. Remember, they are people just like you and me. Emperor Gestahl wants us to take Doma without too many casualties. We need their swordsmen.”

“We needn’t take pity on those who side with the Returners! Which is fortunate because I never seem to have any pity for anybody but your hairdresser.” Kefka glared up at Leo, but his mouth curled into an uncanny smile, further accentuated by the scarlet makeup on his lips.

Leo scowled back, “Nothing dirty, or the Emperor will hear of it.”

Kefka’s smile only widened, “Fine, hurry along now. Hugs and kisses.”

With a shake of his head, Leo stomped off.

Kefka stood watching him leave, that smile never faltering, “You go on and be a good little boy, now…”

Sabin couldn’t take his eyes off the man and his clownish makeup. His demeanor and voice made chills dance up and down his spine. No wonder those soldiers called him inhuman.

“General Leo seems to be a good man, at least,” Sabin whispered to Shadow, who didn’t respond and led the way down behind more crates, closer to the path Kefka was standing on still.

“We’ll need to wait and see where he goes before moving again,” Shadow whispered, dark eyes going from Interceptor to Sabin.

Sabin nodded and sat back, watching Kefka from a crack between crates with his head spinning from everything they overheard. If only he could get his hands on the orders Leo gave that young soldier, then maybe Sabin could throw some monkey wrenches in their attack plans while he and Shadow were in the area.

Hope rose in his chest when he thought about how the Domans were able to fend the Empire off during the attack. Maybe they could keep winning and push them away completely! Make the Imperials run away with their tails between their legs! That would be such a great sight to see.

“Sir, I have your report ready,” a soldier wearing thick rimmed spectacles approached Kefka with a scroll in hand. His eyes were averted from Kefka. Sabin couldn’t blame him. The man was quite an overwhelming sight.

“It’s about time!” Kefka snatched the scroll from the soldier, now bouncing on his feet from excitement. As he read, he started laughing. It was a manic laugh, a laugh that instead of making others want to join in the merriment made them want to run. Hide.

“Oh my! How wonderful! It’s only been a day since we placed the poison, and those pathetic roaches are dropping like flies!” Kefka’s laughing grew louder and downright maniacal.

The soldier’s hands were squeezing into fists at his sides, and he still wasn’t looking at Kefka, “Yes sir, it seems that ingredient you brought from Vector is what made it more potent.”

“Poison? Actual poison?”

“Sir, some of our soldiers are being held prisoner. If they drink the water too—”

“Shut up! It’s their own fault that they got caught!” Kefka snarled, his mood snapping from mirth to annoyance like a whip.

Blood churned in Sabin’s ears. His skin felt hot. Too hot. He couldn’t stop his hands from shaking.

“Poison…just like with mom and dad?”

Sabin didn’t notice Shadow watching him. He didn’t feel when Shadow placed his hand on his arm to remind him to stay put. All Sabin could feel was fire, anger, outrage.

He jumped to his feet and charged away from Shadow and Interceptor, heading straight for Kefka and his lacky.

“You’re a disgusting, inhuman freak! I’ll tear you apart!” Sabin roared, part of him taking pleasure in the pair looking at him in shock, frozen in place. If Kefka wanted to play dirty, then Sabin could too.

Kefka’s face when Sabin punched him in the gut was priceless. The maniac was thrown backward into the dirt like a rag doll and could only roll out of the way when Sabin aimed a kick at his face.

The soldier in glasses cried out, “Who the hell are you?! Help us! Somebody!”

Sabin caught a glance of the soldier cupping his hands around his mouth and yelling louder for help until Shadow appeared behind him. Then the soldier fell forward into a crumpled heap. Shadow yanked his dagger smoothly from the soldier’s back.

Soft green sparks caught Sabin’s attention and he realized Kefka healed himself.

The mage stood and brushed the dirt from his red silk tunic and fitted black and white vertical striped trousers, “You must be a Returner, hm? Snuck into camp and thought you could cause trouble?”

Sabin rushed Kefka, ready with another punch aimed at his face next, “I’m not going to let you get away with this! Poisoning people instead of a fair fight?! That’s the lowest you can get!”

Kefka jumped away, quicker than Sabin expected, “Aw, we have a good boy like Little Leo visiting us today!” he twirled, dodging another strike.

Shadow sprinted up behind Kefka, dagger ready, but seeing Sabin looking to Shadow must have tipped Kefka off, because he danced out of the way from both men with a gleeful cackle, “Missed me!”

Pounding footsteps approached and soon they were surrounded by Imperials.

“Hello boys! Take care of these two losers for me! I’m finished dancing for the day!” Kefka announced with a giggle, and skipped his way out of the circle with a coy wave at Sabin and Shadow.

Shadow rolled his shoulder and withdrew another dagger from his belt, “That fucker.”

“He won’t get away with this,” Sabin growled, furious with himself that he couldn’t land another punch and went into his fighting stance.


The king of Doma was a grand man, an honorable man who even though he was feeling poorly he still attended his duties as king instead of languishing in his royal chambers.

The king, Cyan, and Frederic were seated around a tea table in an alcove off from the throne room so they could discuss their upcoming plans.

Cyan couldn’t help but notice how pale his liege was, how sweat wouldn’t leave his skin and glistened in his thick brown beard, how oddly shiny his blue eyes were.

A manservant in navy palace livery deposited a tea tray onto the table at the center, tactfully avoiding the pile of bloodied handkerchiefs by the king’s left hand. His cough was worsening by the hour.

While the servant poured them each a steaming cup of tea, Frederic straightened a map out in front of him and held a quill in one hand, marking which settlements the Empire took.

“As you can see here, your grace, there are four villages left untouched by the Empire within our domain. If we can capture more of their soldiers, perhaps we can wear them down ever faster, so they won’t have the manpower required to attack.” Frederic circled the villages in question. He picked up his cup and brought it to his lips, watching while their king pulled the map over to his place by the handkerchiefs.

“I see these are our biggest livestock producers,” the king replied, “This is no coincidence. It appears that General Leo chose to pick off the smallest settlements first so it would take far longer for word to reach us. Sneaky devil.”

“Yes, and my men reported that they only have three suits of that horrendous armor left in their camp. We managed to destroy the armors we confiscated during the battle,” Cyan said, wrapping both of his hands around the teacup and running his thumb along the rim.

Before Cyan could continue speaking, the king started coughing so violently it made his whole body shudder. He grabbed up the closest handkerchief and closed it over his hacking mouth. Droplets of blood still ended up on the table despite his attempt to contain the mess.

He looked across the table at Frederic and they shared a worried look.

Cyan turned to the manservant standing by the door awaiting more commands, “Fetch the physician, quickly!”

The servant bowed and hurried away, heels clacking on the polished stone floors echoing, melding together with their king’s horrible coughs.

“What in heaven’s name is this blasted sickness? It cannot be mere pneumonia!” Cyan exclaimed, clenching his fists on the table, tea forgotten. None of the remedies their physicians were administering were working on any of their people. Perhaps he should send a carrier pigeon to Figaro and request aid. That young king was terribly clever and maybe their medical knowledge has increased since he inherited the throne.

“It must be a flu the Imperials brought with them. Our people only started falling ill once we came into contact with those devils,” Frederic watched their king with shining watery eyes, overcome as well by their helplessness in the face of such illness.

The palace physician swept into the room without announcing herself, medical basket in hand and immediately went to the king’s side. She grabbed his free hand and felt at his pulse for a moment while she sat her basket on the table.

She looked at the pile of bloody handkerchiefs on the table then to Cyan and Frederic, “How many of those are from this meeting?”

“Nearly all,” Cyan answered, grateful she arrived so quickly.

“Have you all drunk that tea?” she pointed at the teapot, frowning.

“Yes? His grace and I both had a cup,” Frederic replied, “Would a cool beverage have been better suited for his symptoms?”

Her frown deepened. She knelt and looked into the king’s eyes, her fingers brushed along his forehead. He finally stopped coughing and gazed back at her.

“Why are you fading?” the king asked quietly, his voice rough as though his throat was shredded from all his coughing.

The physician straightened back to her full height, brushed her hands off on her apron and sighed, “I prayed to the gods that I wasn’t correct.”

Cyan jumped to his feet, his chair nearly toppling over, “What is it?!”

She closed her eyes, “Poison, Sir Cyan. I and a couple of nurses noticed that the lilies we keep in the sick rooms were dying soon after they were watered with water from the river…we started wondering what could be happening and then one of my students noticed that there were dead fish floating in the river.”

“Everything has gone dark!” the king cried out, his hands trembling and grasping at whatever was within his reach. His teacup fell to the floor, napkins and the map followed.

“Yes, next your chest will burn, and your heart will slow until it’s too weak to keep beating. Like my other patients.” The physician pulled Cyan’s chair over to her and sat next to the king. “None of my antidotes have been working. Those Imperials must have concocted it from something we’ve never seen before.”

Frederic pushed his teacup away as if it had scalded his hand and clamped his hands over his mouth, “Oh gods above.”

She gave him a sympathetic half smile, “I fear I will soon succumb as well. I have a love for white tea while I work.”

The king groaned, “Sir Cyan, Sir Frederic, go to your families!” He turned his face up, trying to find them with blind eyes.

“But Sire, we cannot leave your side!” Frederic cried, grabbing for the king’s hand and squeezed it tight.

“You men have honorably served this kingdom since the time my father ruled and I am thankful beyond measure. I feel my heart slowing. It is too late for me now.” The king said after a deep wheezing breath. “Go. This is my final command. Your families need you.”

Stricken, Cyan fought back his protests and bowed deep, “I am honored to have served you, my liege.”

His feet carried him from the alcove before he could dither any longer and down the nearest staircase and corridor Cyan went. His suite wasn’t too far from his majesty’s, only around another corner, past the deep blue and silver tapestries depicting the Doman coat of arms hanging from the stone walls, the ancient statues and suits of armor. He didn’t let himself see the doors ajar as he ran, didn’t let himself see the guards slumped on the floors struggling to breathe.

Cyan didn’t pay attention to the fact that the main door to his suite was unlocked when he pushed it open.

“Elayne! Elayne! Where art thou?” Cyan called, scanning the main room in a rush before moving to their dining room after seeing the sofas and armchairs unoccupied.

“My dearest! Please, answer me!” Cyan called again, striding at full speed into the dining room only to trip over something on the plush rug under his feet.

When he fell, he saw Elayne.

She was sprawled prone on the rug, her golden hair a mess from where it pulled free of her bonnet. He saw the blood staining the bodice of her sky blue day gown, her lace neckline, the corners of her mouth. Her normally rosy cheeks were pale. Her fingers were ice cold when his shaky hand touched hers.

“Elayne…” Cyan gasped, his voice a whisper, “Please wake and reveal that this is some cruel jest.”

He tightened his grip on her hand and crawled closer to her, willing her fingers to move, tighten around his, to open her lovely eyes and gaze up at him with her usual radiance. Cyan touched her cheek with his other hand, large fingers feeling for any warmth remaining, hoping for her to stir, flinch, something.

“My love, please don’t leave me and Owain,” tears came to his eyes, the thought of their son growing up without his mother sliced into his heart like the sharpest sword slicing through flesh.

Owain.

Cyan gathered Elayne up in his arms and stood with her, carrying her with him through their suite. They needed to find Owain. Perhaps he was with his friends from his classes playing their usual games or playacting the drama they were studying recently. He could be reading in his room or drawing birds in his sketchbook.

He didn’t find his son at his desk or curled up on his favorite window seat, but in his bed. A book was on the floor where it fell from his hands. Blood stained the corners of Owain’s mouth as well.

“No,” Cyan breathed, clutching Elayne closer to him, her cold body giving no reaction. He stepped closer to Owain’s bed, unable to tear his eyes from his son’s pallid skin, from the blood.

How long had they been sick? How much of the water did they drink while he was away?

“No, this cannot be! Please! Wake! Both of you!” Cyan yelled, tears rolling off his face onto his wife’s lifeless body. He dropped to his knees at Owain’s bedside and lay Elayne down next to their son.

“Owain! Elayne! Both of you cannot leave me like this!” his shoulders shook from his sobs as he looked at his wife and child. Their eyes weren’t opening. Their chests weren’t moving from breathing. They did not take pity on him and wake.

Everybody was dying or already dead and somehow Cyan had avoided drinking any of the river water drawn from the last few days. He only drank the tea from his satchel and the water from his water-skins. Nothing else. He had been much too busy to even eat more than a heel of bread that day.

He looked back up at his family on the bed, “I will make those Imperial dogs rue the day they attacked the kingdom of Doma.”

With a last glance at Elayne and Owain, Cyan stood, wiped the tears from his eyes, and went to go find his blade.


“C’mon, this way!” Sabin yelled back at Shadow and Interceptor while he led the way running through the maze of Imperial tents, winding around campfires and barrels and confused soldiers who stepped out of their tents to see what all the commotion is about.

He saw a clearing up ahead at last and hoped with his whole heart that they had at last reached the other side of the camp. It didn’t register to Sabin that the shouting wasn’t coming from behind them, from Imperials chasing him and Shadow, but that the noise was what they were running towards until he stumbled into the middle of a fight between Imperials and a man in dark armor.

The stranger was outnumbered but was fighting with such ferocity that it didn’t seem to matter.

Shadow pulled Sabin out of the way by yanking his travel pack backward before he got skewered by the stranger’s long sword.

“A Doman,” Shadow said, assessing the crowd.

“He must have found out about the poison!” Sabin replied, “Let’s help him out!”

Before Shadow could answer, Sabin joined the fight, clocking the nearest Imperial in the face with his fist as if they hadn’t just gotten away from another fight with Kefka’s goons. The soldier fell back onto the ground and Sabin dashed over to the older Doman facing off against four Imperials by himself.

“I’ll take the jerks on the left!” Sabin grinned over at the man and rushed at the Imperials. He slipped under one’s guard to wrap his arms around the guy’s waist and swung him up over himself and slammed the soldier’s head into the ground. As the other soldier came at Sabin with his sword ready to swing, Sabin kicked his leg out, heel aimed for his stomach and knocked him back.

The Doman was there before Sabin could get to the Imperial and lopped off the soldier’s head with his blade in a smooth, quick movement.

“What is thy name?” the Doman asked, chest heaving and looking around for more Imperials.

“It’s Sabin! Your’s?” Sabin straightened and looked in time to see Shadow slitting another Imperial’s neck.

“Cyan Garamonde,” Cyan bowed his head briefly and pointed his sword at another group of soldiers hurrying into the clearing, “My countrymen have been poisoned, so I welcome any aid thou can provide.”

Sabin nodded, “I’ll do what I can!”

Another confirmation that Kefka poisoned the people of Doma made Sabin’s stomach churn. He focused that anger into energy for his attacks. He followed Cyan to the oncoming soldiers and slammed his fists into whoever was closest, knocking men down, crushing bones and making damned sure they couldn’t get back up.

Shadow appeared at his side after Sabin brought his foot down into a soldier’s stomach.

“Come with me,” he said, glancing to the Doman as well to include him.

“And thy name, sir?” Cyan asked, keeping pace with Sabin.

When he didn’t respond, Sabin supplied, “He’s Shadow. He doesn’t talk a lot for some reason.”

“I see, and are we heading to whoever placed the poison in the river? I would like a word with them.” 

“No, we need to leave,” was Shadow’s response.

Horns began blaring all across the camp, nearly drowning out Cyan’s protests that he needed to avenge his kingdom and wouldn’t leave.

Sabin grabbed Cyan’s hand and pulled him along, “You’ll be able to avenge them if you come with us! No good will come from you getting overrun by Imperials!”

That seemed to quell Cyan for the time being and they followed Shadow until he came to a stop behind three empty Magitek armors. There weren’t any Imperials guarding them and there didn’t seem to be any locks preventing Shadow from climbing up into the cockpit of one and powering it on.

“You want us to take these?” Cyan gaped, looking aghast and pulled his arm free from Sabin’s grip.

Sabin rubbed his chin and shrugged, “Well, I didn’t see a chocobo stable nearby, so I guess this is the next best thing!”

“You cannot be serious!” Cyan shook his head, “I do not know how to manipulate one of those monstrosities! I only know how to destroy them!”

“That’ll come in handy. Now, come on Cyan! We’ve got to haul ass before the rest of the camp finds us!” Sabin was already climbing up into one of the armors as he spoke.

Looking around them from the Magitek armors to all the tents and crates and lack of chocobos, Cyan sheathed his sword and climbed into the last one. “At least these will be three less armors than these Imperial dogs arrived with.”

The controls didn’t seem too difficult. There was a big on and off switch, which Sabin flipped to power on the armor, buttons with weird symbols painted on them, and two big levers with buttons at the top that he wasn’t sure were for. He looked over at Shadow and how he was holding onto the levers and pushed them forwards, but his attention was drawn away when Cyan’s armor lurched forward, and the man started screaming his head off.

“This machine is possessed! I know not what it’s doing!” Cyan’s armor was plowing through everything in its path and Shadow and Sabin raced after him.

A few soldiers appeared from the adjoining paths, swords and guns in hand, but scrambled away as soon as they saw Cyan’s armor barreling through the camp with its arms swinging haphazardly. Cyan appeared to be moving levers and pressing buttons at random to try to control the thing, but only succeeded in firing lasers and making his armor move even faster.

“I say we let Cyan lead the way! He’s going in the right direction anyways!” Sabin called to Shadow, who gave a short nod.

The camp all around them was in turmoil with fires burning, bodies and blood littering the ground, and destroyed machinery and supplies thanks to Cyan’s accidental skill using Magitek armor.

Sabin was sure that Edgar and the rest of the Returners would be happy to hear about the mess they caused for the Empire.

Notes:

Hello again!
A winter storm threw up on the area where I live earlier in the week and my pipes froze! I was thinking about pushing posting this chapter back a little because I've been a bit stressed dealing with that. I had most of this chapter already written, but I kept hitting a wall with the last third of it. BUT I pushed and wrote the last 3-4k words yesterday, and my beautiful wonderful, amazing beta-reader was able to take the time to read through it and help with some plot things that didn't make sense. (Thank you so much Fop my love *sobs*)
Anyhoo, I hope this was a fun chapter to read! Let me know what ya think! :D (also let me know if i missed anything silly while editing this...things can slip through the cracks when you're up late editing...)
Thanks for reading!

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