FFIX Fanfic: NAMESAKE

Post by **Kuja** » 2004-05-12 01:23pm

Chapter 11: Just a Soul Whose Intentions Are Good

"It doesn't fit!" Frey yelled from the other side of the door.

Daren sighed. "It fits and you damn well know it," he called back. "Now hurry up, or we'll be late." He stood in the hall outside Frey's room, arms crossed, one finger slowly tapping the upper part of his opposite arm.

Frey grunted something that was probably derogatory. "I heard that," Daren snapped. He smiled and nodded at a nearby maid who had stopped to stare, one eyebrow raised. She blinked, shrugged, and walked away.

A few moments passed in silence. "Alright, I'm ready." Daren uncrossed his arms, stepped back through the door, and gave Frey the once-over.

Serena's companion had more or less transformed himself from a dusty traveler to a handsome upper-classman. His shaggy chestnut hair had been cut down to a more manageable length and gleamed in the combined light from the waning sun and that provided by the chandelier above. He'd bathed and furiously scrubbed himself all over, intent on making a good impression on both the Lindblum elite and the Burmecian envoy.

The clothes, on the other hand, had been prompted a complete one-eighty in Frey's attitude. "The shirt's so thin, It feels like it'll fly away as soon as I go outside," he said as soon as he picked it up. He'd managed to go as far as putting the pants on before complaining "they feel like rubber. People actually wear these?" As far as Daren was concerned, he'd earned the right to have a relaxing evening before hitting the bed, hard. With the banquet still ahead, that looked unlikely.

"How do I look?" Frey asked. He wore a thin, high-collared, white shirt that bore intricate embroidery down the front and at the cuffs. His pants were of a black material that managed to both cling to his legs and flare out a bit for freedom of movement. Glossy black boots that came halfway up the man's shins completed the outfit. "Good," Daren said with a nod of approval. "Martial. How does it feel?"

Frey grimaced and chopped a hand at his waist. "From here down, it feels like I have a new layer of skin that's doing its best to kill my circulation." He plucked at the shirt. "This thing's so thin, I feel like I'm walking around half-naked." He rubbed his wrists. "These cuffs itch, and worst of all-" he hooked a finger into his collar, "this damn thing is strangling me."

A smirk tugged at Daren's mouth. "I'm sure you'll survive."

"Are you kidding? I feel like I'm on the gallows!"

"I'm wearing the same thing you are, and I'm not complaining." It was true. Daren wore virtually the same clothes as Frey, but minus the boots, which would get torn to shreds by the Burmecian's claws. He'd also needed to cut a hole for his tail. Secretly, he hated the outfit almost as much as Frey. The difference was that he bore it a bit more stoically, while the far more elemental human promptly put all his thoughts to words. Daren sighed inwardly. Keeping Frey in line for the night would be even more of a battle than getting him ready.

"You're probably used to having your neck stretched," Frey muttered. He twisted a bit in annoyance. "Damn these pants. It feels like my rear end is ready to-"

"I guess you like the boots, then."

"Huh?"

Daren chuckled. "They're the only part of the outfit you haven't said a word about."

Frey looked down, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "Actually, yeah," he said. "They do feel pretty comfortable. I wish I'd had these when I was slogging through-"

"They're not waterproof."

Frey snorted. "Figures. Well, can we go now?"

Daren nodded. "It's almost time."

"Good." Frey started forward, only to have Daren stop him with a palm to the chest. "What now?" Daren gestured to Frey's waist and cleared his throat. A cloud passed over Frey's features. "No. Absolutely not. Not in a thousand years."

Frey's hand moved protectively to his side, where the heavy broadsword hung in its sheath. The sword belt circled around Frey's waist, the fading brown leather creating an almost comical contrast between itself and the finesse of the rest of the outfit. "There is no way in hell that you are convincing me to wear that thing," Frey said with a curt nod towards the sheathed rapier that still lay on the bed.

"We've been through this," Daren said patiently.

"And I'm not changing my mind." Daren crossed his arms and stared Frey down. For long, tense moments, the two glared at each other, both refusing to give in. "I've worn this sword for years, Daren," Frey finally said, exasperated. "I am not-"

"You are."

"-going to put on some stupid little toy like that," he finished.

Daren casually laid a hand on the hilt of his own rapier. "Tell you what," he said. "I challenge you to an honor duel. I win, you wear the rapier. You win, you wear the sword."

"Done," Frey snapped.

Daren's rapier leaped out of its sheath and pressed its sharpened edge against Frey's throat before the broadsword could even get its blade halfway out. Frey swallowed. "Looks like I win," Daren said.

Frey sighed resignedly and resheathed the sword before slowly undoing the clasp that held it to his waist. "I'll do it, but I don't have to like it," he said.

"I understand," Daren said as he slid the rapier back into its sheath. "May I?" Frey blinked in surprise and gently handed the sword, belt and all, over to the Burmecian. Daren looked at the sheath with a critical eye. Simple leather, smooth to the touch from years of punishment from the elements. With infinite care, he laid a hand on the handle and drew the blade. The hilt was nothing impressive, a simple design with very little ornamentation. The blade was much the same. It shone in the light and reflected well enough, but Daren's eye picked out numerous chips and gouges that resharpening had not entirely fixed. Tender loving care counterbalanced by far too much use for its own good, Daren thought. Definitely not a sword to hang on the wall for visitors to gawk at. This was a sword to use when going out and fighting a war. He nodded approvingly and slid the blade back into the sheath. "You made it yourself, I presume?"

"Yes," Frey said as he took it back. "It was the last one I ever made. I hung it on the rack the night before I left Alexandria." He set the blade down on the bed as delicately as though it were an infant. "Now you're telling me I have to wear this thing instead?" He picked up the sheathed rapier, tossed it into the air once, and caught it. His lip curled. "What's it made of? Aluminum?" Daren sighed and he relented, silently circling the narrow black belt around his waist and hooking it securely at his right. His left hand brushed over the handle experimentally, then gripped it.

"Be careful," Daren warned, but it was in vain. Frey's instincts, accustomed to years with the heavy broadsword, completely misjudged the amount of effort needed to draw the light rapier. The blade shot out of its sheath and the flashing steel nearly took Daren's head off. "Hey, watch it!" he yelped as he ducked backwards. Frey ignored him and looked at the now-vertical rapier. He shook his hand a bit and watched the blade sway back and forth, an expression of disgust crossing his features.

"I feel like I'm gonna break this damn thing," he said.

------------------------

Outside, a refreshing breeze was blowing. Frey looked over his shoulder at the castle. "That's one mighty fancy place," he commented. "You know, for all the years I've been coming and going here, that's the first time I've seen the inside." He grinned. "I hear folks are just dying to get in there."

Daren made a show of wincing. "Bad one, Frey," he said.

Frey chuckled. "I guess you'll have a different perspective once you're a dead man like me."

Daren looked at him. "You didn't die."

Frey's smile faded and he held his hand over his heart. "Maybe not here, Daren," he said seriously, "but my mind went somewhere, that's for certain." He stopped and looked out at the sun's last bit of light, placing his hands on the waist-high barrier next to the path. "Death? The beyond? I don't know. Maybe it wasn't even that; maybe I was lost somewhere in here," he tapped the side of his head. He turned to look Daren in the eye. "But I'll tell you one thing. I sure felt dead."

"Not that I disbelieve you, Frey," Daren said. "But how can one feel dead?"

Frey shrugged. "I can't explain it. You wouldn't understand; hell, I'm not even sure if I understand."

Daren came over and rested a hand on his shoulder. "You're still troubled by it, Frey?"

"In more ways than you realize. I came out of that coma a different person. I suppose you haven't noticed anything because we've been busy, but I feel like there's another side to me, something that's been lost for years."

"No, I noticed something was amiss," Daren said. "I put it down you the rush of things happening after you woke up. Like at lunch-"

Frey looked guilty. "You saw that?" Daren nodded.

----------------------

The two of them walked into the Officers' Mess, a busy cafeteria deep within Lindblum Grand Castle. Surprisingly, few people turned to goggle at them. Frey realized that they saw folks like him on the streets every day, and they must have gotten used to seeing Burmecians wandering around for the past couple days. "I'll get us something," Daren said. "Wait here."

Frey nodded and watched him wade into the crowd before leaning up against the wall and closing his eyes to rest them. He heard an epithet behind him. "So, it's true. The rabble walks among us." Frey opened his eyes and looked over his shoulder to see a pair of men much younger than himself glaring at him. He offered a mock smile.

"This rabble could kick your butt into next week, kiddo," he said. The younger man rose and placed a hand on his sword hilt. Alarm bells started going off in Frey's head.

"I'd like to see you try it," he said.

The smile vanished and Frey stepped forward, deliberately breaking the officer's personal space. "Bring it on." The young man pulled on his sword, but Frey's hand shot out and pushed it back into the sheath before he could clear it. Simultaneously, Frey's other hand slapped the officer across the face with a whip-like crack. The officer's head snapped around, his skin turned an angry red, and tears shone in his eyes.

"Is that the best you can do?" he said.

"It's better than what you managed, isn't it?" The officer moved to draw his sword a second time, but once again, Frey slammed his hand back down. This time, he backhanded the man on the other side of his face. He stumbled back, cheeks burning with rage and humiliation. "You don't learn very quickly, do you?" Frey said humorlessly. Several of those watching snickered lightly. "What's your name, kid?"

"My name is Zhade and I'm not a kid," he snarled.

"You certainly act like one," Frey said evenly. Zhade pulled himself together and rushed forward, trying to tackle Frey. Frey took a sliding step back and rotated, bringing his hand to the back of Zhade's head and shoving in forward until he crashed into the table. With surprising quickness, Frey slammed a hand down onto Zhade's upper arm, then plucked a sharp knife from the tabletop and pressed the tip into the vulnerable soft flesh of the young man's inside elbow. Zhade froze, eyes wide, and the group around them fell silent. "Now," Frey said, his voice still dangerously even, "if I wanted to, I could guarantee that you'd never use this arm again as long as you lived. Is that what you want?"

"No," Zhade stage-whispered.

"So tell me. What did you think would happen when you started baiting me?" Zhade shrugged as best he could. "Not good enough," Frey said, and moved as if to shove the knife into Zhade's arm.

"I figured you'd leave!" Zhade squeaked.

"Turn tail and run?"

"Well, something like that."

"So why didn't I?"

"Um, I don't know," Zhade said. Frey raised an eyebrow, and he gulped. "Um, well, I guess I misjudged you."

"Very good." Frey straightened and released Zhade, who stood and eyed his would-be opponent warily. "Now, what have you learned today?" Frey asked, idly working the knife around with his fingers.

"Enlighten me," Zhade spat.

Frey stopped spinning the knife, gripped it, and jammed it down into a knot in the table. The knife sank in all the way to the handle and those watching jumped. "The next time you decide to provoke someone, take a step back and make sure you haven't gotten yourself in over your head." Frey pulled the knife out and offered it to Zhade, handle first. "Because the next time you pick a fight with a real warrior, this might end up in your neck."

Zhade took the knife and looked at it like he'd never seen one before. Frey turned and walked away from the group without a look back.

-------------------------

"You certainly humiliated him," Daren said.

Frey shrugged. "Maybe he'll learn to keep his ego on a leash from now on. Who knows, he might even grow up to be a great leader." Frey arched an eyebrow. "I doubt it though. Anyway, the point is that even I was surprised by what I did. I've walked away from plenty of fights before, Daren, even when most people would have felt their pride was at stake. I didn't that time, and I still don't know why."

"It reminded me of when you came to my rescue the day we met," Daren said.

"That was different," Frey said. "That was something I had to do. Something I couldn't walk away from with my conscience intact. You see?" Daren nodded. Frey fell silent and looked up at the stars above. The twin moons of Gaia were both full, and their light shone down from the glittering black carpet they lay nestled in. "I always did like looking at the stars," Frey said softly.

Daren shook himself. "As much as I'd like to stargaze with you, Frey," he said with a smile, "we've got places to be. Come on." He led Frey away from the wall and down the path, but kept his hand on Frey's shoulder. "As to your story, well, maybe something really did happen to you. But it's not necessarily a negative thing. What you did was give Zhade a much-needed lesson in caution and humility. Maybe it was a bit of a rough method, but it was certainly effective."

Frey grinned. "I suppose."

"So. Let's stay back and watch what happens. Who knows, you might actually like this new self. What do you say?" Daren squeezed Frey's shoulder.

Frey nodded. "Thanks, Daren."

Post by **Zaia** » 2004-05-12 01:41pm

For not having any romantic soppy stuff, it was pretty damn good.

And *looks around thread* where's Crown?

Post by **Ghost Rider** » 2004-05-12 02:18pm

Nice work there.

And as for Stephaine...he's hiding with the other girlie men

Post by **Kuja** » 2004-05-14 02:26pm

Chapter 12: The World Above

A wide set of stone steps led up to the massive double doors of the banquet hall. Intricately carved out of a lustrous redwood, they looked as tough as an airship hull. A pair of guards stood at several intervals on the steps leading to the door, but they made no move to approach Daren and Frey as they scaled them. "Wow," Frey breathed.

"Just want until you see the inside," Daren commented. As they reached the doors, he nodded to one of the guards. "Sir Daren Olivera of Burmecia and Sir Frey Amethyst of Alexandria, here to attend the banquet."

"Sir?" Frey hissed. "I'm not a knight!"

"Details," Daren said, a twinkle in his eye. Frey swallowed hard. In Alexandria, masquerading as a knight or a noble without permission from the gentry was a capital crime. He jumped as one of the massive doors creaked open and a man in a garish outfit cut in a vaguely militaristic fashion stepped through.

"Please enter, good sirs," the man said obsequiously. Daren and Frey followed him into the hall and Frey felt light-headed. The hall was, by any standards, massive. Tiled with alternating light and dark red ceramics, the floor stretched a good seventy feet to the opposite wall. Various portraits, weapons, armor, and other objects of interest decorated the walls between the first level and the balcony. Gold lined everything. A massive set of red-carpeted stairs with a gold railing bisecting them led to the upper part of the hall, where it seemed that the majority of those present were collected. On the lower were massive tables holding every kind of delicacy imaginable, and Frey's stomach growled. He looked up to see three utterly enormous chandeliers spraying light everywhere. They had to weigh hundreds of pounds each. Their guide halted abruptly, and Frey had to keep himself from stumbling into the man. "Sir Daren Olivera, Dragon Knight of Burmecia, and Lord Frey Amethyst of Alexandria," the man thundered. Frey felt his heart sink as some of those nearby turned to study the new arrivals. Daren suddenly set his legs akimbo and bowed gracefully. Frey snapped his mind out of its torpid state and imitated the Burmecian as best he could, though his bow was somewhat shaky.

When the flunky had left them, Daren turned and raised an eyebrow. "Not bad," he said softly.

"For a knight," Frey returned, a smile tugging at his mouth.

Daren chuckled. "Come on. Let's see if we can find Serena and the others."

They had scarcely taken five steps when they were intercepted by an elderly gentleman. "Your pardon," he said to Frey, "but you would not happen to be related to Colonel Johanne Amethyst of Alexandria, would you?"

"Ah, no, I am afraid not," Frey replied, carefully speaking each word. "I suppose it must be a coincidence."

"I see. I am sorry to have interrupted you, then," the man said. As he turned to leave, Frey cocked an eye at Daren.

"These people wouldn't last five seconds at the Crying Hound," he muttered. "'I am sorry to have interrupted you'? You've gotta be kidding me."

"It's a different lifestyle, my friend."

"You got that right." Frey raised his hand and wiped a faint sheen of sweat from his brow, suddenly thankful that he was wearing the thin shirt. If he'd worn his usual attire, he would have been roasting alive in the warm room.

Daren suddenly looked up and over Frey's shoulder. "Ah. It looks like we won't need to search for Serena after all." Frey turned to look up at the staircase and suddenly felt all the little annoyances vanish from his mind. Serena descended gracefully from the surrounding balcony, one hand lightly resting on the golden rail. The strapless black dress she wore hugged her figure, yet had a split running up the side of her right leg to allow freedom of movement and probably to catch a few eyes at the same time. Whatever material it was made from, the dress managed to catch some of the light provided by the chandeliers and reflect it, creating a lustrous shimmer as she moved. A band of gold circled her left wrist. Although without pattern or device, the bracelet caught the light even better than the railing and shone like a star. Finally, a necklace of silver stretched down to an emerald pendant that must have been cut by a master craftsman and polished furiously.

Serena had clearly found the time to clean herself up despite how busy she had been. Her hair, normally somewhat tousled and finger-combed into some semblance of order, now cascaded straight down her back, although a few strands still refused to be tamed and curled forwards to frame her face. Even her claws looked as though they had undergone a major trimming and polishing. To put it simply, she looked more beautiful than Frey had ever seen her.

She stopped three-quarters of the way down and looked out over the crowd until her gaze came to rest on Frey and Daren. She smiled radiantly and raised a hand with palm out, fingers extended, thumb tucked into the palm. Out of the corner of his eye, Frey was dimly aware of Daren returning the gesture. Without warning, an elbow crashed into his ribs. Frey jumped and hastily repeated the gesture, feeling foolish. He saw Serena's hand go to her mouth to stifle a laugh and her eyes twinkled merrily. She quickly descended the rest of the way and cut through the crowd to join the two of them. As she reached them, she slowed and gave Frey a quick hug. "You certainly cleaned up well," she whispered.

"You look stunning," he returned.

"Thank you," she said with a smile, and turned to Daren. "He wasn't too bad, was he?"

"Perfectly manageable," Daren said.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Frey said.

"That's enough, you two. I'm proud of both of you," Serena said. "Now then, there are some people who'd very much like to meet you, Frey." She hooked one arm through Frey's, and pulled him a little closer, then did the same with Daren. "So, shall we?"

"Lead the way, madam," Daren said. "We'll be right behind you."

"Especially if there's more food where we're going," Frey added. Serena laughed aloud and tugged them towards the stairs. As they went, Frey noticed more than a few people glancing their way, some even going so far as to point at them. "I think we just became tonight's gossip," Frey said.

"Tonight's?" Serena echoed. "A Burmecian female leading a fellow Burmecian and an Alexandrian, both men, up towards the center of the banquet? That's good for a month, at least." All three of them laughed. As they reached the top of the steps, Frey suddenly felt faint as he realized that he had gotten things all wrong. There was no balcony surrounding a central chamber. Instead, the massive lower floor had been a welcoming area! The central banquet hall had to be at least four hundred feet long and was currently full of people dressed in everything from the simple-yet-elegant outfit Frey and Daren both wore to ridiculously gaudy clothes that did everything from sparkle to shine to flow across the floor. Hundreds of voices mingled in the air.

Frey shook his head. "Holy-"

"Hush," Daren said. "Remember, you're a knight and a lord of Alexandria. You're used to this kind of thing."

"What?" Serena said, arching her eyebrows.

Frey straightened, took a quick breath, and nodded. "Reminds me of a whorehouse in Treno a few acquaintances of mine dragged me to once," he said calmly.

"Not that used to it!" Daren said, a crestfallen expression manifesting itself on his face. Frey grinned and winked.

Serena looked from Daren to Frey and back to Daren. "What in the world have you done to him?" she said in mock horror.

He sighed. "I've created a monster."

Serena rolled her eyes and pulled the two into the middle of the crowd. As they walked, Frey found his gaze drifting time and again to the walls. Massive pillars of white marble shot up from the floor, peaked, and came down again to form massive arches twenty feet wide. At the middle of each arch was some trinket from the past or another painting depicting a person, a place, or an event. Chandeliers that dwarfed the ones he'd seen initially hung from the ceiling like the stars themselves come to attend the banquet. Frey's mind gave up being astonished by everything he saw, at least, until he saw the Regent's table.

It could be nothing else. An intricately carved table of some burnished red wood, it was well over forty feet long and polished to a gleam. It sat on a somewhat upraised dais, before which was a wooden dance floor. Dozens of people glided across the floor to the music provided by a band of some thirty musicians. Behind the table, a gargantuan stone arch opened up onto what looked like a black fog. A railing separated guest from what Frey realized with a start was a view of the ocean to the south of Lindblum.

"The guy who threw this place together sure didn't pull any punches," he muttered. Serena heard him and grinned.

"Almost ridiculous, isn't it? There's nothing like it anywhere in the world. Even the cathedral at Esto Gaza doesn't compare, or so I've heard."

Daren nodded. "There's certainly nothing like this back home."

Serena removed her arm from Frey's and gestured. "There's the envoy," she said. Frey followed her arm to see a large knot of Burmecians off to one side of the dance floor, some of them eagerly chatting with the nobles of Lindblum. The Burmecian garments were a bit more refined than those of the people around them and tended towards blue or gray, which Frey discovered to be immensely soothing after the riot of color worn by the others. One of the Burmecians separated himself from the group and strode to meet the three newcomers. Frey quickly sized him up. He was of average height for a Burmecian, which meant he was a head taller than Frey. His fairly short brown hair was starting to go gray at the temples, and his brown eyes were a soft muddy color. He wore loose-fitting garments of blue and green that flowed around him as he walked. He stopped as he got to within an arm's reach and bowed. Daren and Serena separated themselves and returned the gesture of respect, Frey following suit.

"So, Serena, I presume that this is your pet vagabond?" The words were stinging, but the tone was one of jocularity, and there was nothing menacing in the man's smile.

Serena turned to Frey, a smile on her face. "Frey, this is Minister Golde, the head of the envoy. Minister, I'd like you to meet Frey Amethyst."

Frey reached out to take Golde's hand. "A pleasure, Minister," he said courteously.

"Likewise. So, you're the one who's been taking care of our lost young lady for all this time, eh? Serena has had nothing but good to say about you."

"I am certainly glad to hear it," Frey said, a smile blossoming. "I'll admit that there were, shall we say, rough moments, but I count Serena among my closest friends."

"Splendid! Sadly, few of our Dragon Knights have the time or inclination to go out into the world. I wish more would do so. Perhaps then Burmecia would not feel so alienated from Alexandria and Lindblum." He indicated Daren with a tilt of his head. "Why do you think I brought him along with us?"

Daren snorted. "With all due respect, Minister, I requested to accompany the envoy."

"And why do you think I granted that request?" Golde returned merrily. "It wasn't as if we needed even more protection."

"I'd certainly say so," a new voice broke in. All eyes turned to a new Burmecian coming up from behind the minister. This one looked as though he'd rather be out in the thick of a battle instead of postulating before a bunch of nobles. Frey could instantly tell he was a military man from his close-cropped brown hair, his sharp eyes, the conservative cut of his brown robe, and his stiff posture. "My men and I were certainly enough to keep everyone safe."

"Of course, captain," Golde said diplomatically. He gestured. "Frey Amethyst, Captain Leon Cage." Cage offered Frey a curt nod and he returned it.

"So, you're the celebrated hero of the hunt," he said, looking Frey up and down. "An Alexandrian noble? Don't make me laugh."

Frey raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And what leads you to that conclusion?"

Cage snorted. "A noble dispatching an Ironite the way you did? I'm almost insulted. In all my years, I've never seen a highborn handle a sword the way you can. Most of them couldn't fight their way out of an empty room."

Daren chuckled. "Very astute, captain. But the fact is, many of those here would have objected to his attendance, even if he did kill a major threat to the city. It's a necessary subterfuge."

Cage nodded. "Perfectly understandable. If some of these people would stop looking down their noses at everyone, they might figure out where egg on their faces is coming from." The group laughed, and Frey decided that he liked the captain.

"Come, come," Minister Golde said. "Now that everyone's here, we can sit down to eat. Regent Cid is surely waiting, and the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, is it not?" Chuckling at his own jest, the minister turned to walk away, and Captain Cage followed. Frey grabbed Serena's arm.

"We're eating with the Regent?" he asked.

"Dining, Frey," she said, clearly enjoying his discomfort. "Dining."

"Eating, dining, it's all the same to me. I just don't want to-"

"Embarrass yourself, I know."

"-embarrass you in front of the Regent," he finished, face serious.

Serena's superior grin melted into something softer and she squeezed Frey's hand. "Just sit next to me and everything will be fine," she promised. Frey acquiesced and allowed her to lead him to the massive table. Remembering his etiquette just in time, he pulled one of the chairs out for her to seat herself. "Why, thank you, sir," she said sweetly.

"Of course, my lady," Frey said, regaining some of his good humor. He sat himself in one of the mahogany chairs next to her as Daren took a seat on the opposite side of the table, next to Minister Golde. Frey looked to his right and found himself staring at the most powerful man in Lindblum, and some would say in the world. Cid Fabool the some-number-or-other was a robust man of some fifty-five years. His sandy brown hair was thickly shot with gray, as were his moustache and goatee. Nonetheless, he virtually radiated an aura of self-assurance and intelligence that spoke volumes about why his family had controlled Lindblum since its founding. "Good evening, Regent," he said carefully.

Cid nodded. "You're Frey Amethyst, I suppose. Well, I owe you both my gratitude and my congratulations, young man. Without you, I would have had to fire upon my own city." He shuddered. "Who knows how many more lives might have been lost."

"Your doctors saved my life, Regent," Frey said. "I'm willing to call us even."

Cid sat back, a smile spreading across his face. "Well now, that's unusual," he said. "Most people would do their best to keep the Regent of Lindblum in their dept as long as possible."

Frey shrugged. "I've paved my own way for years, Regent. There's nothing stopping me from continuing to do so."

Cid nodded. "I can respect that." He paused. "You look as if there's more to say."

Frey nodded. "When you mentioned the hunt, I remembered what happened before I lost consciousness. One of the other hunters, a man named Krox, was killed by a fellow hunter, Kelus. I'd forgotten about it until now." He related a somewhat abbreviated story of what had happened to the hunters before the Ironite had struck.

"The light of the heavens and the fires of hell compete for the heart of a man," Cid said. "The murder you describe was not the only one that day. One of the men responsible for breeding the Ironite, Tacks, killed two others when he freed the creature."

"Why?" Frey said.

Cid opened his hands. "I don't suppose we'll ever know. We searched the city for Tacks while you slept. We found him at the southern end of the Business District, stabbed to death. Alongside him was another body. He remained unidentified, but judging by your story, it sounds like it was that man Kelus. Blond, light-boned, wearing a bandana…" Cid trailed off.

Frey pressed his lips together. Kelus was dead, then. Frey was disappointed because he'd been denied the chance to hunt the backstabber down himself. "I am glad to hear that he's received at least some measure of justice," he said. "But I will always wonder why."

"I understand. Money? Rebellion? Who knows?" Cid sighed. "There are some who would like nothing more than to see my family brought down from the castle. My son is currently staying in Alexandria with the king. Ostensibly, it is for a chance to learn under someone other than his teachers and to become acquainted with those he'll have to share Mist Continent with someday. In reality, I received a letter threatening his life and sent him somewhere I knew he would be safe."

"I had no idea the world of the nobility was so dangerous, sir," Frey said respectfully.

Cid smiled grimly. "Our battles are not often fought with the sword and the spear the way yours are, Frey, but they are no less deadly for it." He took a deep breath and clapped his hands together. "Well, enough of this talk. We're here to enjoy ourselves, so let's do what we came to do."

"I heartily agree with you, Regent," Minister Golde said.

"Of course you do. You're a diplomat," Cid said.

"Guilty as charged, Regent," Golde replied.

"Well, is anyone else as hungry as I am? Let's have the food brought out." Cid signaled to one of the men standing around the table, who promptly dashed off through a nearby doorway. A few moments later, a veritable legion of waiters began pouring out.

"Here we go," Frey said under his breath.

Serena heard him and patted his hand. "Just think of it as a dinner at any other restaurant in Lindblum, Frey. Behave yourself and nobody's going to bite your head off."

"That's very reassuring, Serena," he growled. He fell silent as one of the waiters set a plate of food in front of him. Some kind of meat he didn't recognize, greens from the farms around Lindblum, and several other unfamiliar delicacies had been piled on, and Frey's stomach rumbled. "Thanks," he said to the waiter.

"Of course," the man said brusquely, and turned on his heel.

"Amethyst," Captain Cage suddenly spoke up. "What's your opinion on the current rebellion in Treno?"

Frey had actually heard very little on the subject, barely enough to form an opinion, but he covered his doubts and spoke firmly. "An exercise in futility, captain," he said. "The nobles in Treno are to full of themselves to realize that Alexandria can hammer them at any time they choose. You watch. A week from now, Treno will be flying the Alexandrian flag again."

"Your opinion matches mine," Cage said. "Minister Golde expects a different outcome, however."

"Indeed," Golde said. "This is the fifth time Treno has attempted to break away from Alexandria at large. They want free enterprise, which they have, but they also want to keep their earnings, which they can't if they are forced to continually pay fealty to Alexandria. The very fact that this rebellion hasn't already been quashed is a sign that someone in Alexandria is listening."

"You give them too much credit, Minister," Serena said. "If the King, Bishop, and Knight families are given free reign over Treno, they'll drive it straight into the ground. I've seen the way they act firsthand. They walk all over the common people and build their grand houses and palaces on the graves of the people they claim they serve." Serena's eyes narrowed. "If Alexandria truly does grant them their freedom, their standard of living will grow even worse."

"I must agree with my friend," Frey said. "Freedom is a truly wonderful goal, but the nobles of Treno use it as a shield to cover their true motives. The King family especially has little regard for the average person. Bernard King is rumored to have whipped a servant to death for stealing ten gil to feed his family. Does Treno deserve its freedom? Certainly. But never when men like Bernard King are in charge."

Frey's words cast a pall on those listening. For a few moments, everyone simply ate. Frey found, to his surprise, that he'd already devoured half his plate without even noticing the taste. He cut off a small slice of the meat and chewed it. It was tender and juicy, and he found it quite agreeable. "I supposed that there are always delicate factors to consider in such situations," Cid finally said. "Diplomacy is like fine glassware. One slip and everything can shatter. But if you are afraid to break it, then it will sit on a shelf to never be used. Eventually, it will be too delicate to even touch, and will sit unused forever."

"Like the rift between Burmecia and Cleyra," Daren said quietly. Golde and Cage both nodded. The people of Cleyra had originally come from Burmecia, but arguments about the militarization of the country had driven them to leave in an exodus that had shaved off nearly a quarter of Burmecia's population. Now, Cleyra sat in the middle of the desert, isolated by a magical sandstorm that never let up.

Serena slowly closed her eyes and sighed, then reopened them. "I wish that Cleyra would rejoin the world, even if they'd never return to Burmecia. Sometimes I think that their peaceful ways would be like a salve for the troubles that plague the rest of us."

"And there you have your quandary," Cage said. "Cleyra refuses to rejoin us because of our wars and struggles, and as long as we lack for the diplomatic skills of the Cleyrans, we will always have wars and struggles."

"No offense intended, captain," Daren said, "But that's a poor excuse. I firmly believe that if people were to finally lay aside their petty differences, we would all be as peaceful as Cleyra. What is there to fight over otherwise? Resources? We all have everything we need."

Cage sighed. "Nothing I haven't heard before, Daren Olivera. Still, it remains true that people have not set aside their petty differences."

"It's an ongoing battle," Serena said. "Take me, for example."

Cid's brow furrowed. "What do you mean, young lady?"

Serena reached up and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "Five years ago, I came to this city and received no warm welcome," she said. "I'll spare you the details, but life was by no means easy. Today, however, I think that there are many here who are genuinely enjoy my friendship. All it took was time."

"Well then," Cid said. He raised a glass of wine and the others joined him. "A little after-dinner toast, if I may. To the flow of time. May it always be so kind to our peoples." They all acknowledged the words and drank. Frey thought the wine was a bit too bitter for his tastes, and he only took a sip before replacing his glass.

Serena took his hand. "Come on," she said. "Let's dance."

"But-" Frey got no father because Serena pulled him away from the table. "But, I don't know how," he finally managed as they got to the dance floor.

"Relax, it's simple," she said. She took his hand and placed it at the small of her back, set her arm around his shoulders, and then took his other hand in hers. "Now, step like this," she said. He stumbled a bit, but within minutes was moving smoothly. "There, you see?" she said. "Nothing to it."

"We don't have to do anything fancy, do we?" Frey asked, a bit apprehensive.

"Of course not. Leave that to the showoffs." She leaned closer to him. "You've done pretty well for yourself tonight," she said to him. "I'm impressed."

He smiled. "Well, I did my best. For you," he added.

"I'm honored." She tightened her hold on him. "I'm going to remember this night for a long, long time," she whispered.

Little did she know how right she was.

Post by **Ghost Rider** » 2004-05-14 02:59pm

Nice description of the banquet and set up for a scene. Good grasp of FFIX's world.

Post by **Zaia** » 2004-05-14 04:02pm

Oh, now why'd you have to go and make it sound all ominous at the end; I was feeling warm and snuggly.

Very well done. Reminds me of my favourite part of FFVIII.

Post by **Kuja** » 2004-05-15 01:13am

Ghost Rider wrote:Good grasp of FFIX's world.

Personally, I think the world of FFIX is much darker than the game actually lets on. Sure, most of the character act buddy-buddy, but there's a legion of clues that there's a lot of unpleasant stuff going on behind the scenes. Both Steiner and Beatrix mention going to war, Artania warns Cid not to take his eye off Alexandria, the people of Treno live in what is essentially a shantytown and so on...

Singular Quartet · Post by **Singular Quartet** » 2004-05-15 10:28am

True enough. And considering the mess that is caused by the Elephant Queen in just a few weeks with the SMD (Summons of Mass Destruction) it's reasonable to beleive that all of those wars were both long and bloody.

Post by **Kuja** » 2004-05-16 01:06am

Chapter 13: The World Behind

The three of them ascended the steps with purpose in their gait. Theirs was no pleasure trip, although they hoped the result would be satisfying. They looked human enough, but something in the way they moved suggested that wasn't the case. One of the guards, perhaps sensing something suspicious, moved to block their way. One of the figures intercepted the guard, seized the front of his uniform, and hurled him over the side of the path with strength no human could match. The unfortunate man fell more than fifteen feet before landing on the pavement below. His armor would save his life, but could not stop him from losing consciousness. When he awoke, it would be to realize that he had been the lucky one after all.

Seeing the fate of their kinsman, the other guards quickly came to life. War hammers moved from their at ease positions to dangerous horizontal and diagonal attack stances as the group encircled the three men. The leader of the three raised a hand and they stopped.

"I will give you one chance," he said to the guards, his voice flat. "Get out of our way."

"Surrender," one of them said.

The unknown man sighed in irritation and stepped forward, opening his raised fist as he did so. A mist of pure blackness seemed to congeal out of the night and form itself around the hand. The man raised one finger, pointed at the guard closest to him, then quickly turned his hand in a full circle.

Had anyone been watching, they would have found the silence of the attack the most terrifying part. A thread of blackness extended from the man's outstretched finger to touch the guard he pointed to. When he spun his hand, it quickly followed, passing harmlessly through his two companions. Whenever it touched a guard, on the other hand, the man would suddenly stagger, clutch at his throat, and die in a most horrid fashion. Their skin would consume away, their eyes rot in their heads. Within seconds, eleven men had been transformed into desiccated skeletons. Each of them fell, weighed down by their useless armor. One man's skull rolled towards the three figures, coming to a rest before the leftmost one. That man gleefully raised one foot and ground the skull to powder.

"Come," said the leader, and the other two followed him, leaving the group of corpses behind without so much as a glance backwards. As they reached the massive doors, the leader stopped and pounded on them.

The garishly dressed doorman stepped out and critically examined the three men. "Have you your invitations, gentlemen?" he asked. The first of the three coughed pointedly, and the rightmost one of them stepped forward.

"Here is our invitation," he said. Before the man realized what was happening, the figure's arm shot forward, driving a dagger up under the servant's ribcage and puncturing his lung. The man gasped, coughed, and sputtered as he tried to breathe. The figure cruelly twisted the dagger, ensuring that the man's lung could no longer function, then withdrew it and shoved him backwards. He dropped to the stone, face already turning blue. The last thing the servant ever saw before he blacked out was his murderer bending over to wipe the blood off onto his coat.

-----------------------------

"You look tired."

Serena's voice brought Frey back to reality. He smiled and gently squeezed her hand to reassure her. "Not tired, just thinking."

"About what?"

"You're going home. I'm going back out into the world. I might be able to visit you from time to time, but," he took a breath, "I sure am going to miss being with you every day."

Serena returned his smile. "We'll always have the memories."

"And I'm grateful for that much."

Serena leaned forward and rested her head on his shoulder as they moved. "We certainly chose a wonderful way to end it," she said softly.

Frey instinctively tightened his arms around her. "That we did," he agreed.

That was when they heard it. It was a man's voice, raised to a scream that rose in pitch and suddenly ended in a gurgling noise before it could reach its highest point. Frey and Serena both reacted with years of experience, separating themselves without conscious thought, Frey's hand dropping to the handle of his rapier. All around them, the celebratory mood came to a halt, even the musicians letting their notes fade away in mid-chord. The crowd parted to afford Frey a particularly gruesome sight.

Three figures cloaked in black stood in the middle of the hall. The foremost of them held a man over his head. "That will teach you to disparage me, fool," the man snapped. With a step forward, he threw the body to the ground. The front of the noble's shirt was a bloody mess, as though he'd been torn up by some kind of animal. The three men strode forward, making a beeline for the Regent's table.

Captain Cage was the one who broke the spell that had settled over the hall. "Soldiers of Burmecia! Loyal men of Lindblum!" he shouted. "To me!" He sprang forward from where he'd been standing with Minister Golde and planted himself in the path of the three men. All around, the high-ranking military men of both cities cast away their heavy cloaks and robes and moved to join the captain at the head of the dance floor, Frey and Serena among them. Only half carried weapons, and ceremonial ones at that, but they outnumbered the mysterious intruders by more than seven to one. Surely, those odds would be more than sufficient. Surely.

The three men reached the opposite end of the dance floor and stopped. The dance floor itself quickly emptied, leaving the two sides eyeing each other across what could very easily become a killing ground. Frey looked at each man in turn, but they were so heavily hooded and cloaked that he failed to discern anything about their features. Cage stepped forward. "What do you want?" he demanded.

"We're here to see the Regent," the center man replied.

Cid shouldered aside two of the men in the impromptu defense line and took a step or two towards his adversaries. "Well, I'm here," he said with confidence. "Now, who are you?"

"Ah," the front man said. "My apologies. How could we have forgotten to introduce ourselves?" As one, the three of them reached up to undo their clasps and threw their cloaks to the ground.

Frey stepped forward, unable to stop himself. "Kelus!" he snapped, tuning the name into an epithet.

Kelus, situated at the right hand of the leader of the three, smiled back in a decidedly predatory fashion. "How agreeable to see you again, Frey," he said, clearly relishing every word.

Frey took another step forward, but suddenly found that Cid had laid a restraining hand on his chest. "It's Kelus," he hissed. "That's him!"

"Yes," Cid said. "And the one on the other side is Tacks."

"I thought you said he was dead."

Cid shrugged. "He looks well enough to me." Frey examined the man Cid indicated. Greasy dark brown hair cut in a haphazard fashion framed a ragged smile that Frey instantly knew was not sane. When he looked at the center of the three men, his reaction was the exact opposite. A blank face, devoid of expression, looked back. Icy blue eyes scrutinized him emotionlessly from beneath strands of solid black hair.

Frey's brow furrowed and he pointed at the man. "You..." he said. "I've seen you somewhere before."

The man nodded. "I am pleased you recognize me, Frey Amethyst. I, too, remember the combination of the Father of Wolves and the Divine Protector."

"Frey, what's he talking about?" Serena said.

The man continued. "I did find it quite ironic that a man who lived his life with a passionate hatred for fangs would be looked favorably upon by the patron saint of the wilds."

Frey couldn't help but stare. "What are you?" he finally managed.

The man chuckled, then laughed outright. Frey found it chilling. Not because it was tainted by madness or malice, but because it was so...so... so normal. It was a steady, even laugh that would not have sounded out of place in a hundred taverns from Alexandria to Lindblum. "Very good, Frey," he said when he had finished. "What. Not who, you ask, but what. Very good indeed. Very well, I shall show you exactly who and what I am." At the man's words, a wind began to blow in from the sea. The wind became stronger and stronger, picking up hair and clothes alike to blast them against their owners. Had Frey truly believed in such things, he would have sworn that the wind sounding like thousands of damned souls crying out in anguish. Without warning, the mystery man's cheek split open. No blood came from the wound, but instead, light poured out. Cracks of light appeared in the skin and clothes of all three men, as though their bodies were nothing more than shells that hid creatures made of a terrible light. The light grew and grew until Frey could barely look at them directly. Finally, he was forced to throw an arm up to shield his eyes from the light, the men having disappeared completely.

The light began to slowly fade, and Frey found himself beginning to make out details. An elongated ear. A clawed hand. A tail. A snout. Black armor decorated with various arcane insignias that appeared to be drawn in blood. Swords belted at the waist. Needle-shaped teeth. As the last traces of light faded away and the wind died, Frey found himself looking at three very different men. Three Burmecian men, to be exact. A series of gasps and muttered oaths and curses from the Burmecians behind him told Frey all he needed to know.

"Hello, my dear friends," said the renegade who could only be Allen Olivera. "It has been far, far too long."

--------------------

Allen! Serena's mind screamed. Allen! Allen! It's him! She felt a sudden urge to rush to his side, but immediately clamped down on it. The man before her was clearly no longer the Dragon Knight she'd fallen in love with. As he smoothly spoke to the Regent, introducing both of his fellow Knights, she studied him and became aware of just how much he had changed. Features that had always conspired to make him appear exotic and alluring now made him into a monster. His black hair, always highlighted by streaks of gold, was tangled and unkempt. His dark eyes, once mysterious and comforting, now resembled forbidding pools of blackness, as if they showed the evil nestled in his soul. A scar Serena did not remember cut across one of them. All over his body, Allen's fur was matted and otherwise messy, as though he no longer bothered to care for it.

Serena forced herself to break her gaze from her lost love and looked at the other two. Her shock returned with a vengeance as she recognized them both. To Allen's left was Biggs Chandrenos, one of his closest friends. Short for a Burmecian, Biggs made up for it by seeming to have been split open by the gods and packed with as much muscle as they could fit inside. Lean and whiplash-quick, he was fierce on the battlefield and possessed of a bloodthirstiness that had clearly driven his mind over the edge in the intervening years and changes. His brown hair, equally as ragged as Allen's, fell into gray eyes that sparkled with insanity. As if to silence any doubts, his smile was as hideous as it had been in the guise of Tacks.

Where a human named Kelus had stood was another once-familiar face. Wedge Bastion's expression was one of cool superiority. He was tall for a Burmecian, which meant that he towered over all the humans present. He had always used his height to fuel his smug attitude towards those he considered beneath his station. His lush red hair, surprisingly well cared for, tumbled down the back and sides of his head towards his shoulders. His handsome blue eyes, always an attractant for willing females, seemed to have lightened a shade or two. The overall effect was the opposite of the one produced by the changes in Biggs. Unlike Biggs' berserker bloodlust, Wedge looked like one who had severed his ties with anything relating to emotion, with the possible exception of arrogance. Serena could almost see his mind working, assessing each of his opponents and how best to kill each of them.

One was insane. One was too sane for safety. And one had retained enough control to keep himself in check, but was otherwise no longer a person to be accepted into any civilized community. Serena shuddered, and Allen saw her. A smile that chilled her to the marrow crossed his face. "Serena, my dear," he said kindly. "How wonderful to see you again."

"Don't speak to me," she hissed.

A hurt look replaced the smile. "Serena, why do you say such things to me?" he asked. "Am I not the man you love, the man you said you would spend the rest of your life with?"

"No," she said, biting her lip to hold back the tears that threatened. "You're not. Not any more."

He shrugged. "True enough. I'm something much, much more."

"Enough!" Cage snapped. "Murderers, traitors, and would-be assassins like you have no place here! I see that your exile from our home has taught you nothing! Now, begone!"

Allen threw his head back and laughed. Biggs began cackling madly, and after a moment, Wedge joined them. The three traitor Dragon Knights laughed long and loud at the words of the Captain before slowly calming themselves. "No, Leon," Wedge said smoothly. "You are the one who knows nothing."

"You know nothing of us, of what we have come to understand!" Biggs spouted.

"Treachery? Betrayal? You are correct, I do not understand such things," Cage said acidly. "If I did, I would become as low as the three of you! You turned your backs on your oaths, you lowly, mud-sucking, sons of worms!"

That struck a nerve. Biggs and Wedge both took a step forward, expressions of fury crossing their faces. Allen's arms shot out and stopped them both. "Calm yourselves, my friends," he said. "The good Captain Cage has a right to his opinion, as misguided as it may be. He believes that we are still answerable to our oaths when we have risen far beyond them to embrace a new dedication."

"Madness!"

"Peace is madness?" Allen said quizzically. Cage stopped and gaped. "You heard correctly, dear Leon. I want nothing more than for this continent we all love to be united in spirit and will. And now, I have both the means and the vision to do so." He raised his voice to address all those present. "I stand before you now a traitor and a murderer," he said clearly. "But I call upon all of you to witness this! Remember it well, for it will be recorded in the annals of history for centuries to come!" He drew his sword, a black blade intricately decorated with golden swirling patterns, and raised it above his head. Biggs and Wedge followed suit, their swords simple black with no decoration. "This day, we declare our purpose!" Allen shouted. "We shall unite Mist Continent under our banner, by force if necessary! Nothing shall stop us, for we are three who are truly graced by the hands of the gods! And when I am seated upon a throne greater than any that have come before it, we shall all know a peace like none that has come before! A peace that only we, with our vision of the divine, can bring to you!"

Daren snapped. "Brother, stop this insanity!" he cried out.

Allen's hideous smile returned. "Insanity?" he echoed. "Some would call the perpetual cycle of war and conflict insanity." He paused. "And I'm not your brother!"

Daren reacted as though he'd been slapped. "But, Allen-"

"I have cut the strings that once held me to the ground and now soar among the clouds of wisdom. You no longer have the right to call me brother!"

Cage stalked forward. "I have heard enough of this!" he said. "Allen Olivera, your madness ends here!" He set his rapier and charged.

---------------------------

Frey saw Cage leap forward and felt his heart seize. "No!" he shouted, but it was already too late. Cage charged straight for Allen, who did nothing to defend himself. It was Wedge who met the captain's rush, quickly stepping forward, setting himself, and swinging his sword like a bat. The black sword sliced through Cage's midsection without any apparent difficulty. Leon Cage came to a half mere feet in front of his target, the rapier slipping from his fingers as his hands went to the terrible wound in his side. As he fell to one knee, Wedge turned back to face him. "Brave of you, Leon," he said mockingly. "But, ultimately, a useless gesture."

Allen nodded and picked up where Wedge left off. "Think of it this way, captain," he said. "You are the first sacrifice in the war to come. The first soldier to lay his life down for the corrupt regimes of today. I'm sure I'll never forget your bravery, misplaced though it may be." As he spoke, Cage slowly crumpled to the ground before hundreds of horrified onlookers.

Frey grabbed Cid's arm, threw it down to his side, and stomped out onto the dance floor. He heard Serena call his name out, but ignored her as a red haze descended onto him. He walked right up to Wedge Bastion and stared into the knight's eyes, disturbingly similar to his own. "You," he said simply.

"Yes?" Wedge asked a smug grin on his face.

Frey spat every word. "You killed Krox. You killed Cage. You cover your deeds with words, but I see you for what you are. A killer."

"Well, I won't deny it," Wedge said. "But the question at hand is, I think, what are you going to do about it?"

"Simple. Kill you before you kill anyone else." Frey's hand darted towards the rapier.

"Frey, don't!" Daren cried out. Frey ignored him and grabbed the handle, but once again, his experience misled him and he put far too much effort into drawing the weapon. Wedge leaped over the clumsy slash he made, drew his sword in midair, and came down to impale his opponent. The move would have worked on almost anyone else, but Frey had fought alongside a Burmecian for five years and knew what to expect. He rolled forward and came to his feet as Wedge slammed into the spot where he'd been standing.

"Good," the Burmecian said. He bent and suddenly flew at Frey like a missile. Frey flung himself to the side as a slash that would have sliced him in half cut the air. Wedge turned to find Frey again rising to his feet. "Better."

"Now it's my turn," Frey said. He held the sword out at the same angle he'd used to kill the Alpha fang during the hunt. "I'll bet you'll find this really...shocking," he said. The rapier began to vibrate as the familiar blue sparks appeared around the blade. Suddenly, the blade began to emit gouts of steam and Frey looked down in surprise. "What-" the decorative sword exploded, unable to handle the energy of Frey's sword techniques. The backlash sent Frey flying through the air to crash into a suit of armor standing against the wall. It collapsed and he fell to the floor amid the pieces of metal.

"A true warrior defeated by a poor choice of weapon," Wedge said, sheathing his own sword. "How ironic."

"Are you going to finish him, Wedge?" Biggs asked. "Are you?"

Wedge watched as Frey groaned. "No. I think I'll let him live. Hear me, Frey Amethyst!" he said forcefully. "I'll let you live, this time! Live and contemplate your revenge! I'll be waiting!"

"I suppose that about wraps it up," Allen said. He strode forward to look Cid in the eye. "Never let it be said that we didn't give you an honorable warning," he said.

"And yet you tried to coerce me into shooting my own city?"

Allen chuckled. "Well, yes, there is that." He turned away from Cid and looked at Minister Golde. "Return to Burmecia," he said. "Let them know that war is coming, one the likes of which they cannot begin to imagine."

"It's you who cannot imagine what the future holds, Olivera!" Golde riposted.

"We shall see, won't we?" Allen said.

"Brother, please..." Daren entreated. Allen turned to look his sibling in the eye. Then, he held his hands out and walked over to Daren, enfolding him in a hug.

"I know you think me a monster, Daren," he said. "But one day, you'll understand. I promise." He released his brother.

Tears pooled in Daren's eyes. "I looked up to you for so long, Allen," he said, voice wavering. "I wish...I wish I still could."

"So be it," Allen said. Then, he turned to face one more person. "Serena," he said, again reaching out. "My beloved Serena," he stopped as Serena took a step back and bared her teeth.

"Don't touch me," she hissed. "Keep your filthy hands off of me."

"Serena-"

"No!" she shouted. "Do not look at me, do not touch me, do not even speak my name where I can hear it!" She pointed at him accusingly. "I would rather that you had died while I traveled," she said. "At least then I would never have had to look at this twisted shadow you have become!"

"I love you, Serena-"

"THE MAN I LOVED IS DEAD!" she screamed, tears of sorrow and hatred flowing freely. "KEEP AWAY FROM ME!"

Allen slowly let his arms drop. "So this is how it is to be," he said softly. "Very well. Biggs, Wedge! Let's go!" The three traitor knights went to the balcony. Biggs and Wedge leaped over it without a look back, but Allen hesitated. "Hear this, people of Lindblum!" he said. "This day, I leave you in peace! Treasure your corrupt and rotting kingdom while you can, for soon I shall return! And when I do, I shall bring with me a cleansing fire to sweep away the old world, and you will enter a new and glorious age the likes of which you cannot even begin to imagine! Treasure the time remaining!" He let himself fall. Dozens rushed to the balcony to spot the three figures, but to no avail. Serena fell to her knees, weeping. Daren came to her side. After hovering next to her for a moment, unsure of what to do, he also dropped to his knees and held her.

The two who had once treasured their closeness with Allen Olivera shared their grief over his new and terrible form. Both wondered where the nightmare would end.

Meanwhile, Frey Amethyst drew in another breath and groaned. His vision shook and blurred and he knew he was lucky he had crashed into the suit of armor. Had he slammed into the wall directly, he would have been dead by now. But despite that, despite his pain, despite Wedge's mockery, despite Serena's misery, despite everything, the image that filled his mind was that of Allen's sword.

I've seen that sword before, he thought.

Post by **Ghost Rider** » 2004-05-16 01:25am

Cool description of the new threat.

And you fit Biggs and Wedge

!

Post by **Kuja** » 2004-05-16 01:32am

Ghost Rider wrote:And you fit Biggs and Wedge !

Play FF6 - you see Biggs and Wedge.
Play FF7 - you see Biggs and Wedge.
Play CT - you see Biggs and Wedge. (and Piet!)
I looked up a script for FF8 and sure enough - there's Biggs and Wedge.

Well, where are Biggs and Wedge in FF9, huh?!

Now you know.

Post by **Zaia** » 2004-05-16 03:51pm

Oh, guess I was wrong about Biggs & Wedge in VIII then. Didn't remember them. Whoops.

Post by **Zaia** » 2004-05-18 01:32am

PS~Oh, the chapter was pretty good, by the way.

Singular Quartet · Post by **Singular Quartet** » 2004-05-18 05:27pm

Zaia wrote:Oh, guess I was wrong about Biggs & Wedge in VIII then. Didn't remember them. Whoops.

They were the two army guys you fight every once in a while. The first time, IIRC, is on the Comm tower in... Dolet? It's just before you fight the big boss that you can draw Siren off of.

Post by **Kuja** » 2004-05-21 12:30am

Chapter 14: A Fateful Night

"Can you stand?" Golde asked.

Frey tried, but his head promptly began to swim, badly enough that he had to give up. "Give me a few minutes."

Golde nodded. "Hold on, I'll get you something to drink. Here!" he said to a pair of nearby Burmecians. "You and you, see if you can get Mister Amethyst somewhere more comfortable." The two Burmecians attempted to lift Frey, but as soon as they did, he felt a splitting pain seize his skull and his groan convinced them to set him back down. He managed to drag himself over to lean against the wall, which he found far more appealing than the armor. As he waited for the pain to leave him, he cast his eyes over the hall. It was emptying with surprising quickness, the various nobles of Lindblum being ushered out by the waiters and other servants. A pale-faced man came running through the crowd and approached the Regent, hurriedly whispering into his ear. Whatever news he brought couldn't have been good; Cid immediately set his mouth in a grim line and returned the man's whispers, then reassuringly clapped him on the shoulder and sent him back the way he came.

Frey plucked at one of the Burmecians. "Hey, can you find out what that guy told the Regent?" he asked.

"Certainly," the younger man said, and promptly marched off towards Cid. As he went, something else caught Frey's eye. A group of five Burmecians had gathered around the fallen Captain Cage and were gently wrapping his body in a large black cloak. Before they covered his head, Frey saw one of the soldiers reach down and open Cage's eyes, first the left, then the right.

Frey tapped the other Burmecian. "Why did he do that?" he asked, curious.

"An old army superstition," the young man said. "A soldier needs to see where he's going to get to the afterlife. Otherwise, they become wandering spirits and drift in the Mist forever." Frey nodded. He'd heard dozens of such superstitions, and while he didn't believe in any of them, he was willing to respect the soldiers' wishes. As they tenderly lifted the captain's body, the image of Wedge Bastion running him through came unbidden to Frey's mind and he grimaced.

"Still in pain?" asked Golde as he came back. Frey took the glass of water he held and shook his head before downing half of it.

"Not that way," he said when he'd finished. "Let's try again." Frey gripped Golde's arm and hauled himself to his feet. He swayed a bit, but there was no splitting pain this time. "That's better."

"What was the look for?"

"Wedge."

Golde's face went blank as he led Frey towards the Regent's table. "I see."

Frey drank some more water. "I've seen people die before, Minister," he said. "But he's a murderer if I've ever seen one."

"He'll have to take a backseat to his vaunted leader," Cid said as they got to the table. "That was what my aide told me of. Eleven guards reduced to skeletons, our doorman stabbed to death, and one lucky man knocked unconscious when he was thrown from the path." Cid shook his head. "Someone is going to pay for this very dearly."

The Regent's table was rapidly turning into a war room. No one sat, but everyone stood around it, looking grim and determined. "With respect, Regent," Golde said. "Allen is a renegade of Burmecia and thus it is our responsibility to hunt him down."

Cid's face colored. "These murders occurred right here in Lindblum, at my banquet hall no less! Lindblum will have its revenge!"

Frey spoke up, his voice even and deadly. "I don't care who gets Allen," he said. "But Wedge is mine."

"You don't know what you're talking about," a voice said softly. Frey turned to see Serena standing at the other side of the table. He felt a sudden wild jealousy when he noticed that Daren held a comforting arm around her and she held his hand.

"And why not?" he challenged, his tone a bit harsh.

She refused to meet his eyes, instead looking at the table. "You don't know Wedge, Frey. I've seen him fight, and he can do much better than what he just showed us."

"Maybe he's rusty."

"I doubt it. Frey, he's toying with you. If you try to bring him down, he'll kill you."

"Damnit, Serena!" Incensed, Frey smashed his glass down onto the table. The noise startled Serena and she jumped as glass shattered and the water remaining splattered everywhere. Frey felt a sudden spike of pain and knew he'd cut himself, but didn't care. "That bastard stabbed Krox in the back! He damn near cut Cage in half without even hesitating! He's a blood-soaked killer and damn it, I'm going to bring him down! Even if I die doing it!" He clenched his fists as he spoke, blood running from his left.

"He's seen your abilities, Frey," Daren said reasonably. "He knows what to expect from you."

"He hasn't seen everything," Frey said confidently. "If he thinks he knows what to expect, I'll hand him a surprise or two."

Serena shook her head, her own temper rising. "Frey, this isn't some wandering psycho with a sword we're talking about. This is Wedge Bastion, one of the top Dragon Knights of Burmecia! He's a veteran of a dozen battles and he's got Allen and Biggs with him! He'll massacre you!"

"Maybe you're right, Serena. Maybe you're right. But at least I'll die knowing I was doing the right thing," he said calmly.

"Frey-"

"Give it up, Serena. Nothing you can say is going to change my mind."

"You...you..." Serena raged at him for a few moments before subsiding and leaning into Daren again. Frey felt another pang of jealousy.

Golde sighed. "Why? Why did this happen? Allen, Wedge, Biggs...all of them were loyal knights, and none of them were killers! Biggs was always a little on edge, but nothing like this!" He rubbed his eyes. "I just wish I knew."

"Maybe I can provide the answer," Frey said. All eyes turned to him. He gestured to one of the others at the table. "Give me that knife," he said. He took it and felt the tip to make sure it was sharp. "Your pardon, Regent," he said quickly and began carving something onto the tabletop. Several of those present gasped or made exclamations, but Cid waved them down. Frey worked for a few moments, and then stepped back. "There," he said. "What does that look like?"

Cid frowned. "Wind?"

"A current?"

"Breath?"

Frey shook his head and drew a blade around the swirling pattern. "It's the sword Allen was carrying."

"Is there something special about it?"

"Maybe." Frey crossed his arms, not realizing he was getting blood on his shirt. "I've seen that sword before. Well, not the sword itself, but a statue that held one just like it."

"Where?"

"Alexandria." Frey's gaze wandered into the past. "The statue was two men in mystical armor, and each held a sword. It's so old, people don't even remember who the men were, really. It's an old legend, or so I heard. Two knights named Ceyphus and Dromenephus were the closest friends one could imagine, almost brothers. They traveled around Alexandria, doing good, helping people, et cetera. Then they started to learn magic. Dromenephus had a natural inclination for White Magic, which stemmed from his desire to help and protect people. Ceyphus, though…" Frey absent-mindedly began tapping his arm. "Ceyphus began delving deeper and deeper into Black Magic. At first, it was because he wanted to use the elements to help, rather than hinder. As time passed, the darkness inside him began to manifest. He began using his magic to bend people to his will and lay the foundation of a plot to topple Alexandria. Dromenephus confronted him and they fought to a standstill." He took a deep breath. "Neither one trusted the other any more, and both knew that they had to kill the other to protect their own desires. To do it, both created a sword and imbued it with various magic spells to help them beef up their power. When they met again, they were still evenly matched, but this time, they wrecked an entire town during their battle. Horrified by the carnage, Dromenephus let himself be distracted, and Ceyphus drove his sword into his midsection. Unwilling to let Ceyphus get away, Dromenephus caught his arm and drove his own sword through Ceyphus' chest. Both of them died and were buried in tombs at the opposite ends of Alexandria."

"That's the legend?" Cid asked.

Frey shrugged. "Looks like it was more than legend, if you ask me. There was definitely something unnatural about that sword. I'd bet every piece of gil I have against a broken stick that Allen and his pals found Ceyphus' tomb. They took the sword and its power's been driving them insane ever since." He looked up and down the table. "That's what I believe, at any rate."

"It's as good an explanation as any, I suppose," Golde said. "The question is, what do we do now?" He glanced at Frey. "Find the tomb of Dromenephus and take his sword, then bring Allen down?"

"Like I know where to find it, Minister?" Frey said with a snort. "I told you, it was just a legend until a few minutes ago. I never took it seriously, and even if I did, the legend doesn't exactly give us a location. Besides, there's more than magic to a fight." He held up his left fist, blood still oozing from where he'd cut himself. "Put my sword in this hand, and I'll bring down Allen and his sycophants all at once."

"You're deluded," Serena said quietly.

"Yeah, maybe I am," he said.

"The question remains, what are we going to do about all this?" said one of the nobles who had stayed.

"Rest assured, Lindblum isn't going to take this sitting down," Cid said. "Tomorrow morning, I'll send out the Comet Halo." He smiled grimly. "No matter how dangerous this sword supposedly is, I'd like to see it stand up to an airship's cannons."

"As for us," Golde said. "I believe we need to get back to Burmecia and warn them. We'll raise a force of Dragon Knights to bring Allen down."

"I can send an airship-"

"With respect Regent, no. We Burmecians have always fought within the Mist. We are at home there. We know it far better than most. And if he attacks, he'll find us worthy opponents." Golde's face was determined. He turned. "Serena, Daren, will you come with us?"

The question took both of them by surprise. "Of course, Minister," Daren said. "I pledged to defend the envoy. Until you return home safely, my duty is not fulfilled."

Serena hesitated. "Yes," she finally said. "I want to see my family. And I want to help gather the Dragon Knights." Her eyes found Frey's. "What about you?" she asked.

"To Treno," he said promptly. "Even if it is a crazy old legend, that's as good a place as any to start looking for Dromenephus' tomb. Especially since Allen presumably found Ceyphus' near Burmecia, I can't think of a farther corner in Alexandria."

"I thought you were going to-"

"Hunt them down?" he said. "I am. But I want to see if I can't hedge my bets a little." He turned to face Cid. "If it's not too much trouble, I'd like to borrow a chocobo. I'm betting Allen and the others are on foot. I'll need all the speed I can get."

"Done," Cid said. "Then tomorrow morning, we all swing into action." His smile turned cold. "Allen had better get as big of a start as he can."

-----------------------

Frey lay atop the sheets of the bed. At Cid's request, he'd agreed to stay in the palace one more night. But even with the window wide open and a wonderfully cool breeze blowing in, the bed itself was a little too warm for his tastes. So, he'd thrown on his jeans and lay down on top of everything, arms behind his head to let the wind whisper over his bare torso. He'd tried to sleep, but images of Wedge Bastion kept him awake. Unconsciously, he flexed his hands and felt a spike of pain from his left. With a grunt of annoyance, he looked at the dressing he'd made out of his evening shirt. He couldn't help but smile. Tearing that annoying thing up had felt really, really good. He'd slathered a potion all over it and within a few more minutes, he'd be able to take the dressing off.

There was a sound out in the hall. Automatically, Frey's hand went to his sword, which lay on the floor beside the bed. As the doorknob began to turn, he mostly shut his eyes, leaving only a crack between his lids to look though. A blurry figure appeared in the doorframe, silhouetted by the light in the hall. Frey's breath caught in his throat as he realized who it was.

"Frey?" Serena called softly as she closed the door behind her.

He blinked a few times and stretched, pretending to have just awakened. "Y-yeah?"

She softly padded across the room. In the pale starlight, she looked like a ghost, and her silence only added to that impression. Frey blinked, looked at her again, and realized that she was still wearing the same clothes from earlier. "Did I wake you?" she asked, hesitant.

He pushed himself up on his elbows. "No," he said honestly. "I couldn't sleep." She reached the side of his bed and sat. Suddenly, he found his heart pounding in his chest. He'd slept in the same room as Serena before, even in the same bed when they'd had no choice...so why was his breath suddenly short, and why did it feel like electricity tingled all over his body? Calm down, he told himself.

"Neither could I," she said. "I needed to talk to someone." She slowly leaned down onto the bed and rested her head on the pillow next to Frey's, keeping her back to him.

"Why not Daren?" he asked, not really understanding why.

She shifted a bit. "I mean I needed to talk to you." Frey rolled onto his side, shucking the bandage as he did so. He reached out and gently rested a hand on Serena's side. She clasped it.

"What about?" he asked.

She was quiet for a long time. "I can't let you," she finally said.

"Can't let me what?"

"Go out and hunt down...them."

He slid closer to her, stretching out his left arm. She lifted her head and let him slip his arm underneath. "Serena," he said gently, "I have to."

"No you don't!" she cried out. She twisted in his arms until she lay flat on her back. Glistening green eyes looked up at him, and Frey realized just how worried she was. "Can't you just let it go?" she pleaded. "Can't you let the people with real responsibility handle this?"

"Serena, this isn't a game. I've seen two people killed. How many more? How many are they going to murder before someone finally stops them?"

"But why does that someone have to be you?" she said, curling her free hand into a fist and beating it on his chest once.

"It doesn't," he said. "If someone else gets them first, I'll be satisfied. But the more people out there hunting them down, the sooner we'll get them." He looked into her eyes. "Serena, why are you acting like this?" he asked. "We've thrown ourselves into more fights than I can count, and even if we were afraid, we knew what we had to do and we did it. So...why this?"

She unclenched her fist and slid her hand up his chest. "I'm afraid I'm going to lose you, Frey," she said quietly. "Permanently this time." He started to speak, but she shook her head. "All these years we've been together, I've always known I had someone to go home to. That's gone now. Frey, you're the only real friend I've had for five years, and I can't bear the thought of really losing you." She huddled closer to him, her head nuzzling his neck as she spoke. "If you died...Frey, I could never forgive myself. For letting you go. Because...you're my friend, Frey, and because...because...because, damn it, I love you!"

She pulled her head away and looked at him. Tears ran from her eyes and her jaw trembled. He curled his arm around her and gently cradled her head, bringing it back to him. He rested his chin on her temple and gave in to an impulse to kiss her crown. "I'm not going to die, Serena," he whispered. "I promise you, I'll see you again when this is all over." He sighed. "Gods, I wish it was over already." He tightened his hold. "But it's not yet. But I promise here and now, I'll make it through. "Because I love you too, Serena." He looked down at her, a soft smile forming on his lips.

"Thank you," she said, her voice unsure. She stretched her head up and rested it on his. He closed his eyes and inhaled the rich scent of her hair. "Are you really going to leave for Treno tomorrow morning?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said. "There's another reason I want to go. Cairn and Dock are both buried there, and I haven't...paid my respects in a long time. I want to go do that."

"I understand." She pulled her head back to look at him. For a long, silent moment, they both gazed into each other's eyes. After some time, Serena slowly moved her head a bit closer, then hesitated. Again, she tried to close the distance and stopped. Frey took a deep breath and leaned down to meet her. Their eyes slowly slid closed as their lips met in their first real kiss. Frey's left hand ran through her hair, feeling its length and smoothness. His other hand slid down her side, past her hips, to her leg. He felt her hands moving as well, exploring his back, gently dragging their claws across his skin and sending wild shivers down his spine.

After what seemed like hours, they finally broke apart and looked at each other again. Frey could feel her heart pounding as insistently as his own. She gave in to it and leaned forward again, kissing him briefly before moving along his jaw to his ear and giving it a nip. Her neck offered itself to him and he moved to it, kissing her at the base of her jaw, then slowly moving downwards towards her shoulder. He felt her breathing deepen and could sense its heat on his shoulder. She moaned softly and tightened her grip on him as his lips played across her fur. The sound seemed to trigger something inside of him and he quickly pulled his head back to look at her, eyes wide. "Serena," he said, breathless.

"What?"

Frey looked at her, desperately trying to find words. "You know where this is leading," he finally said. She nodded. "Any farther...and we might not be able to stop," he finally managed.

She leaned closer to him, closer, and even closer, until her lips finally brushed his ear. Voice husky and laced with desire, she whispered, "I don't want to stop."

Her words ignited a fire inside him. His pulse raced. His breath quickened. His hand closed in her hair and he pulled her to him. His lips met hers and pressed insistently, and she responded. A barrier, an unspoken agreement five years strong came down in an instant and they threw caution to the wind. The rules were torn asunder and they were happy to let a void take their place. Each knew it would be their last night while they truly were together, and both of them needed the other in a way they never had before.

They didn't stop.

Post by **Ghost Rider** » 2004-05-21 01:30am

Aw the two now go kiss-kiss.

Nice tidbits of what lies ahead.

Singular Quartet · Post by **Singular Quartet** » 2004-05-22 05:36pm

Do a little dance... make a little love...

Post by **Zaia** » 2004-05-27 09:23pm

Ok, you've been waiting for these, so here they are:

On the 2nd to last chapter (so far):

Overall I thought it was really excellent. One part of it, though, bothered me. This quote here:

Wedge watched as Frey groaned. "No. I think I'll let him live. Hear me, Frey Amethyst!" he said forcefully. "I'll let you live, this time! Live and contemplate your revenge! I'll be waiting!"

I found it to be too cliche for you. I was disappointed when this is how their physical encounter ended. Seemed too contrived. The rest of it is so good, though, it really is.

On the last chapter (so far):

Again, very, very good--it felt quite natural that Serena and Frey would get together, so I approve of that. I especially love how well you got Frey's jealous behaviour and feelings down, but you stopped giving his physical reactions and his inner dialogue about it at the most interesting part! Like when Serena runs her hands up Frey's chest--she hasn't told him she loves him yet, so his nerves should be screaming, his heart pounding and his mind racing, but you stopped giving us all that! I was getting all psyched for it, but it didn't come.

Since that's my favourite sort of thing because I'm a sap, I was a little put out, but that was the only spot in that chapter. You still get an A.

Post by **Kuja** » 2004-06-01 12:19am

Back from Phoenix, and not empty-handed.

Chapter 15: Memories Within the Mist

The silence was overwhelming. The only sounds that reached Frey's ears were two sets of heavy breathing, his and Chalk's, and the slapping of Chalk's feet against the ground as he ran. On occasion, he could hear insects buzz or birds chirp, but the vast majority of what reached his ears was silence. The Mist closed around him and Chalk like a blanket, obscuring vision beyond a few yards and dampening any noise. Frey felt cut off from the rest of the world, completely alone. He tried to enjoy the solitude, but the cloying feeling of the Mist kept him from doing so. With a grimace, he clamped down on his insecurity and forced himself to focus.

He wondered why he was so unsettled. He'd made more trips through the Mist than he could remember. Of course, for the past five years, Serena had always been with him...thinking of her, he unconsciously raised a hand to his chest and touched a bulge in his shirt just over his breastbone. As he did so, he felt Chalk begin to slow, panting. Frey grinned and scratched the chocobo's neck. "You want a break, boy?" he asked cheerfully. Chalk squawked. "Okay, we'll take a break."

Frey pulled on Chalk's reins to get him to stop, then vaulted off. His feet immediately landed almost ankle-deep in marshy land and he stared. Damn, he thought, I didn't realize we were at the edge of Qu Marsh already! Cid wasn't kidding when he said this guy's fast! He shook his head and took Chalk's bridle off and let the chocobo wander over to a pool of water and begin lapping up the water. Frey held the bridle in one hand and absent-mindedly walked around a bit to stretch his legs. Chocobo-riding wasn't the most physically demanding exercise, but it was still enough to slap the unwary with a good set of stiff legs.

He turned his gaze to the south and imagined he could see the spires of Lindblum rising from its plateau. Impossible, of course. Lindblum was now many miles away and the Mist blocked any view that might have been possible. The thought of it made Frey feel even more alone. He looked up into the sky, but all he could see was a hazy nimbus of light where the sun should have been. "This sucks," he said aloud. Then he shook his head roughly, as though he were trying to dislodge the bad attitude. He decided to think of something more pleasant.

--------------------

"You're really leaving already?" Corri said, her voice petulant.

Frey nodded. "I've got a chocobo lined up to get me out of here in a little while. I just wanted to say goodbye."

Corri looked at him, eyes moistening. "You say it like it's the last time," she whispered, her voice nearly lost to the air between them.

Frey set his hand down atop hers and squeezed. "It won't be. I'll see you again, Corri."

"Promise?"

He nodded. "Promise."

"Where's Serena?"

The question caught him off-guard and he leaned back. "She's already gone. She's going back to Burmecia with Daren and the others."

"Oh Frey, I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he said. "It's alright. "I got to talk to her just like I wanted to. And I have every intention of seeing her again, too."

Corri slowly smiled. "So, there you are."

He frowned. "What?"

"The Frey I know. Always ready for another adventure. Not to mention a little romance."

Frey burst out laughing. "Corri," he finally said when he was through, "that's exactly why I'm going to see you again. I wouldn't miss you for the world."

She winked. "Hey, drink your order before it gets warm," she said, tapping the glass in front of him."

He raised the glass and offered her a mock toast. "Yes, ma'am."

She shook her head as he drank. "Frey Amethyst, I swear you're going to make a widow out of me yet."

Frey snorted into his drink and had to keep himself from spraying it all over the bar. "Stop that!" he finally said as she laughed.

Her face suddenly became serious. "Hey, what's this?" she asked. Her hand slowly glided forward to touch a silver chain that protruded from the collar of his shirt. His hand caught hers and led it away.

"Just something," he said quietly. She didn't press, knowing he wouldn't budge. "Thanks for the drink, Corri," he said, standing. "I'll see you next time, right?"

"You bet, lover," she said. He grinned, winked, and turned and walked out the door. "You bet."

--------------------

A sudden sound jerked him out of his reverie. It sounded as though a giant serpent had slithered up behind him and started hissing, but when he spun around, all he saw was Chalk. Frey goggled in amazement as he realized that it was the chocobo making the sound. I never heard a chocobo hiss like that! As he watched, the source of Chalk's ire lazily lifted its head out of the water and squalled. Frey recognized the yawning mouth and tiny pink scales of an axolotl. The six-foot-long reptile continued to rise from the water, blinking its eyes irritably. Frey realized that Chalk must have awoken the creature from its midday nap. Chalk was backing off slowly, eyes narrow, hissing like a demon. The axolotl squalled again and heaved its upper body out of the water, snapping at the chocobo. Chalk leaped back with the kind of speed only his species could muster, and the axolotl's jaws clamped down on thin air. Chalk darted forward and clamped his beak down on the reptile's neck. The axolotl batted at the chocobo with its front legs, but to no effect. Chalk shook his head furiously, tearing a large chunk of meat from the reptile before spitting it out. The axolotl had had enough. Bleeding profusely from its wound, it turned back towards the pool and sank into the water. Within seconds, only a trail of blood marked the fact that it had ever been there.

Frey watched, astounded, as Chalk calmly strode to a different pool and began lapping at the water there. I never would have seen that coming, he thought. But then, Cid had given him a warning about how to handle the chocobo...

------------------

"How do you plan to get to Treno?" Cid asked as the two of them descended into the chocobo stables nestled next to the Dragon's Gate.

"Well, the direct way," Frey said. "Northwest as soon as I get out of the gate, over the Ceebell River, then I'll skirt the Chocobo Forest and make a beeline for South Gate. From there it'll be simple to get to Treno."

"I'm afraid to tell you, but that's a very bad idea, young man," Cid said.

Frey blinked. "Why?"

Cid ignored the question for a moment, speaking instead to one of the stable hands. "Have you got one ready?"

The young man nodded. "Yessir, we do, he's the fastest bird we've got." The young man waved towards one of the tethered chocobos. "His name's Chalk."

"Chalk, huh?" Frey said. He walked right up to the chocobo and stroked its beak. The bird cooed. Frey noticed that his feathers were a somewhat lighter shade of yellow than most chocobos he'd seen. "Yeah, I think that name's perfect for you."

"I think he likes you, Frey," Cid said.

"I'll go get his riding gear," the young man said.

Cid stepped forward to join Frey and Chalk. "A word of warning, Frey," he said. "Wild chocobos and our domesticated ones don't often get along well. If you take Chalk here through Chocobo Forest, you're more likely to start a fight than get through quickly."

"Chocobos fight?" Frey asked, puzzled.

"You mean you didn't know?" Cid said in surprise. Frey shook his head. "Most people think chocobos are harmless," the Regent said. "They couldn't be more wrong. They just get a bad impression because chocobos are usually gentle herbivores and they get along well with humans. But when they get angry, watch out." He gestured casually. "That beak you've got your hand on could take half your arm off if Chalk didn't like you."

Frey took his hand back and turned to look at Cid. "You're serious," he said.

Cid nodded. "You need to be careful when you're riding a chocobo. They might be quick enough to outrun most of the creatures hiding out there, but when they decide to pick a fight, there's no stopping them."

"So what do you think I should do?"

"Take the same route as the envoy did." Cid pointed out the nearby door. "Go straight north until you reach the entrance to Gizamaluke Grotto, then turn east and follow the mountains until you get to South Gate. It'll take longer and you'll go right by Qu Marsh, but it's much better than starting a turf war between chocobo gangs."

"Sounds good to me," Frey said as the stable hand came back with the riding gear and began putting it on the chocobo. "Thank you for everything, Regent," he said.

Cid waved it off. "It's nothing. Take care of yourself, Frey."

"Okay, he's ready," the stable hand said.

"Thanks, kid," Frey said as he grabbed the reins and swung himself up onto Chalk's back. Once he was settled, he reached down and clasped Cid's hand. "Tell your airship's crew I wish them the best of luck," he said.

"I will," Cid promised with a nod. Frey released his hand and snapped the reins. Chalk leaped forward and darted out the door and into the Mist. Frey bade Lindblum yet another fond farewell, then set his mind to the task ahead of him.

-------------------

"You look happy," he said. Chalk squawked and nudged Frey with his beak. "I guess you enjoyed that little break. Ready to get going again?" The chocobo held still as Frey put the bridle back into place and hopped up onto his back. As he spurred Chalk to move, a thought crossed his mind that brought a devious grin to his face.

Had he his choice, he would have bet on the axolotl winning the fight. He'd seen what the big reptiles could do when properly angered. No, he wouldn't have gambled on Chalk at all. The cute and friendly bird winning a battle with an angry reptile tough enough to take on two or three men before going down? No way!

It was the same between him and Wedge. The Dragon Knight was a veteran warrior and dangerous to those who confronted him. Frey was a small-time wanderer that emphasized his relationships over combat of any kind and actually worked to avoid fighting whenever he could. Frey's hand left the reins to touch the handle of his sword. Well, he'd certainly roused the axolotl from its slumber. Now he'd go for the throat and shock everyone when he walked away the victor. The smile broadened and suddenly, the Mist didn't feel so cloying.

But, a certain part of him argued, what would be there for him once he won? Where did his future lie? As much as he wanted to be with Serena, he knew that could never be reality. Would he go back to Lindblum, settle in with Corri, and happily wile away the rest of his life as a bartender? Would he go back to Treno and become a mercenary? Or did his destiny lie among the roadways and rivers of Alexandria? As though it would answer his questions, Frey reached into his shirt and took hold of the bulge there. The weight and feel of the object took his mind back to that morning...

------------------------

He awoke with the early morning sun pouring through the window. Outside, he could hear the seagulls cawing. But what fixed his attention was Serena, her head resting on his arm. She was still asleep, and Frey studied her for a few moments, thinking just how peaceful she looked. Then she stirred and slowly blinked her eyes open. For a short time, she just stared at Frey as her brain caught up with her body. Then, she smiled. "Good morning," she said softly.

"Good morning yourself," he said, bringing his hand up to brush back some of her hair.

"I guess I should be going," she said.

"Yeah," he replied.

There was a long pause. "The envoy will probably be leaving soon," she said.

"Yeah," he said again. Another silence passed before they slowly pulled together, as if drawn by some irresistible force. Frey relished the feeling of her in his arms, her body pressed against his. In the back of his mind, he somehow knew that this would never happen again, and he strove to make it last as long as possible.

"I'm going to miss you," she said.

"I'm gonna miss you too," he replied.

She pulled back and looked him in the face. "Close your eyes for a second," she said.

He blinked. "Why?"

"You'll see."

"Well, alright." He closed his eyes and felt Serena's movements. He could sense her arms moving around his neck, then felt something cold brush his skin. He heard a soft snick and her hands withdrew. He opened his eyes and looked down to see that Serena had placed her emerald pendant around his neck. "What's this for?" he asked, his free hand holding up for him to see better.

"Something to remember me by," she said. "So that wherever you go, no matter how much time passes, you'll always know that my love goes with you."

He dropped the pendant and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to him for a long kiss. "Thank you," he finally said. "I wish I had something to give you in return." A crooked smile spread across his features. "But then, I doubt you'd really need anything to remember me-"

"You!" she scowled in mock anger and playfully punched him in the chest. He raised his hands in surrender and she grabbed them, pushing him onto his back and rolling on top of him. "Let me tell you something," she said, an admonishing finger pointed at him. "You are not half the dashing rogue you think you are!"

He grinned up at her. "Yes I am. Just admit it and get it over with."

"You listen to me," she said, leaning in closer. "If you think that you're fooling me with that act-" she kissed him "-for one second-" she kissed him again "-you've got another thing coming!" She lowered her body down to press against his and kissed him fiercely. "The envoy really is going to be leaving soon," she said when they finally broke apart.

"Yeah," he said, his arms encircling her and roving up and down her back. "But not yet."

"No," she agreed with a smile. "Not just yet..."

-------------------------

Frey closed his hand around the pendant and sighed deeply. Nothing lasted forever, he told himself. Change touched everyone and everything in the world. But sometimes, it could be a real obstacle. Frey thought back over five years of travels. Serena invaded his thoughts and for a long time, he could think of nothing else. Then he shook himself. That part of his life was over and done with, whether he liked it or not. It was time to move on and find something else.

He delicately placed the pendant back under his shirt, returned his hand to the reins, and urged Chalk onward.

--------------------------

Despite his hurry, Frey couldn't help but stop and gaze when the great majesty of the Aerbis Mountains came into view. Massive, snow-capped peaks, the mountain range was what separated Lindblum from the other major powers of the Mist Continent. Somewhere up north from where he was, Frey knew, was the entrance to Gizamaluke Grotto. He squinted, but between the distance and the Mist, he couldn't see it. Chalk huffed and nibbled at the grass, as though he didn't give a hoot about any mountains or grottos.

It was in the moment of utter silence that followed that Frey's ears registered the noise. It sounded like some distant roaring, almost like waves crashing on a breach. He strained, but the sound did not become any more identifiable. It seemed to be coming from somewhere ahead of him...

A cold shock struck Frey and he suddenly snapped into motion. He hauled Chalk way from the bird's snack and set him to the fastest pace yet. Chalk seemed to soar over the ground as he ran, and yet Frey kept urging him on and on, faster and faster. Slowly, the sound became clearer. The unintelligible roar melted into voices of voices shouting, creatures bellowing, and the clash of steel on steel.

That was when a massive fireball suddenly seemed to erupt from the land ahead of him and shoot straight up into the sky. Frey narrowed his eyes. Something about the fire seemed familiar. It was certainly magical in nature, and almost equally certain to be a cry for aid. "Daren," he said aloud. Daren Olivera was calling for help.

The envoy was under attack.

Post by **Ghost Rider** » 2004-06-01 12:42am

Very nice set up....also like the passing Frey has.

and oooh battle next chapter.

Post by **Zaia** » 2004-06-01 08:33pm

Please tell me Frey didn't sleep with Corri after Serena left.

Post by **Kuja** » 2004-06-02 12:19am

Zaia wrote:Please tell me Frey didn't sleep with Corri after Serena left.

No, he didn't.

Post by **Kuja** » 2004-06-18 02:18pm

Chapter 16: The Battle of the Mist

The vice was a chittering creature in loose-fitting armor standing about five and a half feet tall. Serena's lance cut through the air and took its head off. Even as its body toppled, two more of the green-skinned creatures leapt up to fight her, their scimitars humming as they slashed the air. One of them shrieked. Serena didn't lose her concentration for even a moment. She kept her lance in motion, swinging it in a long, reaping circle that decapitated the shrieking vice. Before the other ragamuffin could avenge its brother, Serena spun and drove the sharp point of her lance into its midsection, just under its poorly fitting armor. The creature gagged and dropped its sword, then immediately collapsed when she withdrew her weapon. Before she could catch her breath, however, five more of the creatures surrounded her, scimitars at the ready.

The entire envoy was in trouble. The Burmecian soldiers had formed a loose circle around the minister and his attendants, but they had to be outnumbered by nearly four or five to one. To make things worse, the loss of Leon Cage meant that the defenders were unsure of themselves, and that kept their concentration broken. More fortunately, a pair of Dragon Knights had stepped in to replace the captain.

Serena didn't know where Daren had gotten to, but that was not her greatest concern at the moment. She stood on a small, somewhat uneven butte of rock, defending nearly six full meters of open space on her own. She held her lance in a ready position, waiting patiently for the vices to close in. They chattered and gibbered meaninglessly, but refused to close the noose they had created. Vices were the only race on the Mist Continent that had never settled down to form a nation. Instead, they preferred to travel in small packs, living as bandits. Serena had never seen a group this big before. She turned her gaze to the nearest vice. A rusting helmet sat atop its head, framing a pair of bright hazel eyes with reptilian pupils. A mouthful of sharp teeth were enclosed by a stupid grin that never seemed to leave its face. The vice, like all the others Serena had ever seen, wore ill-fitting armor and ragged clothing. From its knees down, brown-scaled legs ended in a set of two avian claws. A battered and dented scimitar rested in its right hand.

"So," Serena said aloud. "Are you going to come to me, or am I coming to you?"

The vices' chittering increased, and they looked unnerved. Serena took advantage of their lack of discipline, leaping towards the closest of them and cutting his legs out from under him. Keeping her momentum going, she spun and drove her lance into the next vice's neck. It struck bone and she stopped as it squealed. Acting on instinct, she yanked on the lance and felt the butt of it smash into the vice behind her. With that threat dealt with, she twirled, gracefully avoiding a clumsy blow from yet another vice and held her lance above her head to block the last vice's overhead slash. She kicked out, claws raking the vice's midsection. It fell back, and she ducked as the vice she'd avoided earlier tried again. As its scimitar passed over her head, she slammed her lance right through its rusty armor and into its ribcage. The last vice, jaw broken from her strike with the blunt end of the lance, chose to run.

Serena felt a brief twinge of pride, then buried it as she saw her next threat. Another vice, a chieftain by the look of him, sat atop a massive, charging serpion. The dragonish creature had its blue-scaled head down, ready to bite an unwary opponent's head off. Its massive, barbed tail was held high in the air to strike. Serena set herself as the creature came ever closer. Suddenly, a blue light slammed into both the serpion and the vice. They froze almost instantly, a coating of ice covering both of them. A moment later, they came unbalanced and toppled, shattering as they hit the ground. Serena turned to look at Daren, who stood only a few feet away. Bluish mist curled from his outstretched hand. "Nice trick," she said.

A brief smile tugged at his features. "Thanks."

"Down!" she suddenly shouted. She ducked, reaching out and yanking one his shirt as she did so. She acted just in time, for as his head dropped, a scimitar passed through the space where it had been a moment before. Serena snapped upright, her gaze quickly finding the vice who'd been stupid enough to hurl his only weapon at the enemy. Even as she watched, the vice suddenly looked down at his hands in what was almost comical panic. It turned and darted for open ground, but Daren rose, energy crackling around his hand.

"Nobody tries to take my head off and gets away scot-free," he said. A bolt of lightning suddenly leapt from his hand and hit the fleeing vice in the back. The vice's feet left the ground and its was carried through the air for a short distance before it came back down, twitching.

"How many left, do you think?" Serena said.

Daren shook his head. "Too many. And they're better organized than I've ever seen."

"Same here. I don't like this."

"Less talking, more fighting. Good luck, Serena!" he said as he crouched and leaped.

"To you too!" she said. She turned and scanned the line of battle. Almost instantly, she saw a problem. One young Burmecian with a spear was trying to fend off a trio of vices. Unlike the idiots Serena had been killing, these three were actually using their heads. They kept darting at the young soldier and stepping back when he swiped at them. Even from where she was, Serena could see him tiring. She set herself and leaped. The Mist wet her fur, cooling her as she practically flew through it. She reached the apex of her jump and came back down right towards the trio. "Look up, stupid!" she snarled as the came down. One of the vices did, looking up to see her just as her feet slammed into its face and took it off its feet. All of Serena's weight came down on the vice's skull, forcing it into a position it was not meant to go. Serena hear a wet snap and knew its neck was broken. The young soldier took advantage of her entry and leaped forward impaling one of the other vices on his spear and actually lifting it into the air before planting a foot on its chest and kicking it off. Serena stepped to the left with her right foot, crossing her legs, then spun and slammed the edge of her lance into the back of the last vice's neck. The soldier joined her, driving his own spear into the vice's stomach. The bandit dropped his scimitar and fell as they withdrew their weapons.

The young man smiled. "Thanks for the help."

She winked. "Anytime." She stepped into the middle of the group of soldiers as a new wave of vices ran at them. "Gentlemen, set yourselves!" she ordered. Without hesitating, the entire group fell to one knee and planted their spears in the ground, blades pointing out. Even the vices weren't stupid enough to run at a set of sharp spears like this and they came to a halt, chattering rapidly. Serena took advantage of their confusion. "Charge!" she yelled. She and all eight of the soldiers around her rose from their positions and stampeded towards the vices, who promptly responded by panicking. Like an ocean wave hitting a child's sand castle, the Burmecians slammed into the ragged group, driving their weapons home over and over. The vices turned to run, and the Burmecians finished those who tripped and fell.

Suddenly, a massive form ripped its way out of the fleeing vices. A lizardman, ten feet tall and holding a giant cleaver in each hand, stomped towards the Burmecians. It inhaled and bellowed fiercely, the cleavers slicing through the air with tremendous power. The soldiers faltered, but Serena stepped forward and planted herself in the creature's path. It halted and looked at her. Then, it held both cleavers out in front of it and began spinning them, its fingers moving with surprising dexterity. The steel on the weapons flashed in the weak sunlight as they moved faster and faster. Finally, the lizardman stopped showing off and set himself. Another bellow challenged Serena to fight. Serena calmly set her lance and, moving so fast that no eye could track her, darted forward. There was a sudden flash of white light and Serena reappeared several feet behind the massive creature. A gash had opened in its neck, and the lizardman slowly toppled to the ground as blood gushed out.

"Alright!" shouted one of the soldiers.

"Yeah!" another said.

A third burst into flame.

Serena felt her heart stop as the young man she'd saved earlier was burned to death in the space of a few seconds. A second soldier suddenly caught fire, and the rest panicked. Several tried to help their comrade, while others began frantically searching for the source of the deadly attacks. As a third man suddenly erupted into an inferno, Serena felt a cold chill creep through her. "Run!" she suddenly screamed. "Get out of here, now!" The remaining soldiers did so without any further prompting, abandoning the charred remains of their comrades.

"Wise of you," a silky voice said.

"Where are you?" she demanded. "Show yourself!"

"I'm right here," Allen said as he stepped out from behind a boulder.

"I had the feeling you were behind this," she said.

He chuckled. "What was the giveaway? The fact that the vices actually outnumbered you? Or the lizardmen?"

"Shut up!" she snarled. "This isn't a game, you bastard!"

Allen calmed himself. "Oh, so I'm a 'bastard' am I? I recall you singing a different tune five years ago."

Her eyes narrowed. "A lot has changed since then."

He sneered. "Whatever happened to 'Allen, I want to be with you forever?'"

She bared her teeth. "Stop that."

"Or 'Allen, do you really want to marry me?'"

Serena felt tears welling up as memories rushed forward from the back of her mind. "Stop it, dammit, stop!" she snarled. Her grip on her lance tightened.

"One more," Allen said, a smile blossoming on his face. "'Allen, I love-'" Serena sprang forward and thrust her lance towards his face. With lightning reflexes, he pulled his head back and let the point of the weapon come within scant inches of impaling him before reaching up and slapping it away. Serena let her momentum change, slowly twirling until she again faced Allen. He had moved as well, slowly backing away and to his right, hand descending to his sword. The two began circling each other, Serena's lance pointed at Allen's throat. "That wasn't very polite," he said.

"Go to hell."

He laughed. "I probably will, Serena. I probably will." He drew his sword. "But not today."

"What, no Wedge to bail you out? No Biggs to back you up? You're going to take me on by yourself?" Serena knew the barb was unnecessary, but she couldn't stop herself.

He drew his sword. "This is a personal matter," he said. "And I don't need help to take on a bitch like you."

They rushed each other simultaneously. Serena's lance clashed with Allen's sword. She quickly shifted her weight to her right foot and kicked out with her left. Allen dodged the blow by quickly spinning, then attempted to turn the spin into a strike to Serena's head. She foiled him by ducking and taking a few steps backwards. Allen came at her, sword held in both hands. She gave ground, her lance knocking his attacks to the left and right as they moved. His left hand came up, palm out, and a blackness suddenly manifested itself. Serena threw herself to the side as a tendril of blackness shot out. The tree it stuck instead suddenly withered and dried up, dying within moments. Remaining prone, Serena swept her lance, trying to take Allen's legs out from under him. He leaped backward as the lance whipped under him. He tried to stab down at her, but she brought her lance back and knocked his blade away as she stood.

They faced each other down, both breathing hard. "You've gotten better," Allen commented.

There were simply no words appropriate enough for Serena to express the depth of her revulsion towards him. Instead, only one thing escaped her mouth. "Come on."

--------------------

Daren dropped to one knee and the vice dashing towards him impaled itself on his lance. He shook the dying brigand off and stood. There were still a lot of vices. Too many. "Fall back!" he shouted. All along the ragged line, his fellow soldiers repeated his order and began to carefully backpedal. Daren turned and darted away from the front, the two soldiers on either side of him quickly moving to fill the gap. As he ran from the line, he looked up at the wall of rock that was the mountain range. At this distance, he realized that he could make out the entrance to Gizamaluke Grotto. They were nearly safe! He looked for Serena, but couldn't spot her.

Instead, he found Minister Golde among the civilians, most of whom seemed to look more and more unnerved as the line grew closer. "Minister Golde!"

"Yes?" Golde looked disheveled, but that didn't really surprise Daren. They were in the middle of a battlefield, after all.

"Can you get these people to the Grotto?"

"Can you cover us?"

"I'll try!"

Golde nodded grimly and turned, barking orders to the group. Daren turned as well, looking over the battle line with increasing concern. The vices continued to pour out of the Mist as though they were being created on the spot, and here and there were the bigger and more dangerous lizardmen fighting alongside them. The Burmecians fell back more and more quickly, the battle line threatening to overtake the fleeing civilians. Worse, he still had no idea Serena was. For one brief moment, he felt horror creep up at the thought that she had been killed, but he immediately clamped down on it. Whether Serena was dead or alive, he needed to deal with this situation now.

Even as he thought it, a new threat made itself known. With an unnaturally loud clash of steel, a knot of lizardmen slammed into the line. Their huge frames brutally knocked aside the soldiers in their way, and they turned to either side as they prepared to widen the gap they'd created. Daren refused to let that happen. He dropped his spear and thrust out both his hands, heels touching and fingers splayed. With a quick whisper, a ball of light appeared in the bowl he'd formed. Within moments, the ball grew and grew and tongues of flame erupted from it. Daren continued to pour energy into the attack until he was certain he could no longer contain it. Then, with another whisper, he launched it towards the lizardmen. The ball of fire shot forward with blinding speed, charring the grass beneath it as it went. One of the lizardmen saw it coming and howled a warning, but it was too late. The fiery attack slammed into the lizardmen and burned right through them to hammer the mob of vices trying to follow them up. Seeing this, the nearby soldiers let out a brief cheer before setting themselves and slamming back into the vices. Daren bent to pick up his spear, then rushed to join them.

Even as he reached the line, the ranks of the vices swelled and pressed against it, probing for weaknesses. The Burmecians held their spears before them, slashing left and right, occasionally striking gold as a vice failed to backpedal in time. They continued to cautiously give ground, drawing ever closer to the safety of the grotto.

----------------------

Serena thrust her spear out parallel to the ground and stopped Allen's overhead blow. Before he could recover, she twisted and delivered a smash to the side of his jaw with the blunt end of her lance. He dropped and rolled on the ground, coming to a rest face up and sword at the ready. "Nice trick. I wasn't expecting that."

She sneered. "You ought to stay down. It suits you."

He whistled. "Vicious. I didn't think you had that in you, Serena."

"There's a lot about me you don't know, Allen."

"And vice versa, my dear." Allen planted both feet and kicked into a backwards roll that brought him to his feet. Serena thrust forward, but Allen stopped her when he caught the end of her lance on his sword. Before she could back away, he grabbed her lance's shaft and pulled. Caught off guard, she stumbled right into a crushing blow that knocked her flat on her back. She felt dazed and shook her head, only to find Allen's sword at her throat. "Your skills have certainly improved, Serena," he said. "But you'll need more than skill to beat me. You'll need a miracle."

----------------------

"We're going to need a miracle."

Daren spun on the soldier who'd spoken. "That's enough!" he thundered. "We're going to survive, we're going to get to that grotto, and we're going to do it using our own ability!"

"Sir, look around," he soldier persisted. "There's only twenty of us left. And the vices are about to cut us off." True to the soldier's word, a large group of at least two dozen vices was quickly moving to get between them and the entrance.

"Then we'll just have to plow right through them!" Daren said. "Who's with me?"

"Anything's better than dying out here!" someone yelled.

"Hey, look at that!" someone else shouted. Daren saw one of the soldiers point off into the Mist.

"Look at what, the vices? We know they're there!" one of the others replied.

"No, that!" Daren narrowed his eyes, careful not to let the vices out of his field of vision. If they charged while he was gazing off into the distance…well, it certainly wouldn't be a very fitting end for a Dragon Knight. That was when the light caught his eye.

"What the hell?" he breathed. The light was a red-orange, and it seemed to be growing. It also rose and fell, as though whatever was creating it was unsteady. The light continued to grow, its misty sheen pouring over the armies. The vices grew still as they finally realized that something was wrong. Both groups quietly watched as the light continued to approach. As its luminosity increased, Daren had to shield his eyes somewhat. Finally, he had to consciously keep his jaw from dropping as he realized what the light was. "It's a miracle," he breathed.

The light was coming from a sword gripped by none other than Frey Amethyst. He charged out of the Mist on the back of a furious chocobo like some barbaric god brought to life. His sword looked as though its steel had been heated nearly to the point of becoming liquid. Then he leaned forward and hurled the sword towards the vices. The glowing weapon cartwheeled through the misty air and came down right in the center of the mob of vices, blade sticking into the ground. Then, it released a massive explosion that leveled the center of the group, stopping just short of the Burmecians. As the smoke cleared and Frey charged through, he leaned as far over in the saddle as he could and pulled his sword out of the ground.

Daren snapped himself back to attention. "Burmecians, charge!" he shouted. The soldiers didn't need any further encouragement. They leaped forward into the vices and attacked. Frey set his chocobo running along the back of the group, sword constantly at work. Between the renewed soldiers and Frey, the vices panicked and scattered into the Mist. The soldiers began to celebrate but Daren reined them in, reminded them that there was another group of vices now firmly planted between them and the grotto. Then, he turned to find Frey beside him.

"Can you handle them?" he asked.

"Yeah, I-"

"Good. I'll go find Serena. I'll see you in the grotto." Before Daren could reply, Frey urged his chocobo forward and away. He blinked. That was abrupt.

--------------------

The explosion broke Allen's concentration for one crucial second, and Serena used it to plant her feet on his midsection and push him and his blade away. His infernal armor prevented her from actually injuring him, but she at least managed to retrieve her spear and stand. "You weren't expecting that, were you?" she said. "Looks to me like something's gone wrong with your little plan."

Allen shrugged. "No matter. The vices were disposable anyway. And once I have the grotto, any such snags will be immaterial." He came at her again and their weapons clashed, neither gaining any kind of advantage until he managed to redirect one of her thrusts to the side before stepping in and slamming his elbow into her jaw. She collapsed a second time, but managed to twirl so that she at least could catch herself on her hands. Once again, his sword hovered right in front of her. "You see?" he said, a smirk on his face. For a moment, Serena's hope deserted her. Then, it came flooding back as a form materialized out of the Mist and she recognized it.

"Frey," she whispered.

"What?" asked Allen, his brow furrowing. Behind him, Frey sheathed his sword, then pulled his feet out of the stirrups and clinging to the chocobo's neck, perched himself atop the saddle.

Serena slowly smiled. "I said you're a dead man."

Allen's eyes snapped open and he spun as Frey howled and launched himself at the renegade. The flying human slammed into Allen and bowled him over. In his shock, Allen lost his grip on his sword. The two rolled across the ground, Frey's gauntlet clamped firmly around Allen's jaws to keep him from being bitten. They finally came to a rest with Frey on top of Allen. Frey slugged the Burmecian and leaped away before Allen could retaliate. As soon as Frey was off of him, Allen bolted to his feet, an angry fire in his eyes. "You'll pay for that, and dearly," he snarled.

Frey drew his sword. "Bring it on."

Allen turned to see where his own sword had fallen only to find Serena standing with one foot atop the blade. Her lance was pointed right at him. "Just try it," she taunted.

Allen looked from Serena to Frey and back to Serena. He flexed his fingers, but summoned up no magic. Finally, he took a step back. "Don't expect to win so easily next time," he snarled. Then he turned and leaped into the Mist, vanishing almost instantly. Frey and Serena stayed alert for a few moments, then finally eased. Without warning, a thread of jet-black liquid shot out of the Mist and curled around the hilt of Allen's sword. "I'll be taking this with me," his voice said, seeming to come from everywhere at once. The thread suddenly pulled taut and the sword leaped away into the Mist.

"Damn," Frey swore. He looked up at Serena. "Are you alright?"

She shrugged. "More or less." A best. "I didn't expect to be seeing you again so soon." A matching grin spread across both their faces. A deafening bellow suddenly shook the air, and the smiles vanished. "Lizardmen," Serena said.

"Reinforcements," Frey confirmed. He spun. "Chalk!" He whistled and the chocobo squawked, running over to him. Frey vaulted into the saddle and grabbed the reins. That was when a massive cleaver came hurtling out of the air and slammed into a nearby tree, burying itself almost completely. Frey kicked Chalk into high gear and bolted towards Serena. She caught his outstretched hand and swung herself onto Chalk to sit behind him. Her arms wrapped around Frey, her lance across his chest. "That's really uncomfortable, Serena," he said.

"Deal with it!" she snapped as she risked a glance back. A dozen or so lizardmen were charging out of the Mist, yet another group of vices behind them. And behind them were no less than three serpions. "Frey, can't we go any faster?"

"Chalk's been running all day! Give him a break!"

"We're going to be the ones getting a break if we get caught!" Frey didn't reply, but he leaned forward and squeezed Chalk's neck, whispering into his ear. Chalk put his head down and poured on the speed. Ahead of them, the entrance to the grotto loomed, growing ever larger. Serena said a quick prayer before looking back again. She instantly wished she hadn't. One of the serpions was moving at a full gallop and had almost closed the distance between itself and its prey. Huge, slavering jaws snapped at the chocobo, repeatedly closing on thin air. "Frey, faster!" she shouted.

"Come on, Chalk," she heard him growl. They had now entered the home stretch, a flat chunk of land between the rough, broken land of the Eunorus Plains and the Aerbis Mountains. A light suddenly blossomed ahead of them, a soft blue glow that seemed to chill Serena's bones. "Daren," she whispered.

Frey heard her. "Looks like he's got his eye on us." The light suddenly vanished, then reappeared in the form of a blast heading straight towards them. "Whoa!" Frey shouted, but Chalk nimbly leapt to the side as he ran. The ice blast shot right by them. Serena saw frost blossom on her clothes and felt her leg go numb. Chalk stumbled, but kept going. The blast of coldness struck the serpion that had nearly caught them, freezing it solid in the space of a second. With that threat removed, the rest of their pursuers were too far behind to do anything but herd them towards the grotto. Finally, Chalk was no longer running on marshy grass, but solid rock. A moment later, they were at the entrance to Gizamaluke Grotto. The surviving soldiers of the envoy surrounded them, quickly pulling them inside, to safety.

Or so they thought.

Singular Quartet · Post by **Singular Quartet** » 2004-06-18 09:43pm

My question is simple: If Frey threw his sword into the pack of vices, how did it reappear back in his hands?

Post by **Zaia** » 2004-06-18 10:28pm

Good, but...it was mostly action and not much romance or plot development, and action isn't really my thing, so I didn't get into it as much as usual. But it was still written well. And don't forget that you owe me a half-naked pic of yourself.

Oh, and SQ, where are you talking about, that Frey's sword does that? I missed that.